Guest Post by Ben Larson
What do you think of when you think of Christian art? You probably picture enormous cathedrals, sculptures and paintings by Michaelangelo, and crucifixes. LOTS of crucifixes. And crosses. And stuff built in the shape of crosses.
Somewhere along the way the cross became the chief artistic representation of Christianity. It connotes power: omnipotent power over death, spiritual power over sin, and for centuries the political power of the church. It’s become the Christian’s Skull and Crossbones. It sends a message: this is God’s house, so don’t mess with us. We have a monopoly on truth. God is on our side. We’re RIGHT.
I think the cross’s connotation might have a lot to do with the way the cross became a symbol in the first place. The legend of the cross’s cultural ascension goes like this: before the Battle of Milvian Bridge in AD 312, the Roman Emperor Constantine had a vision of a cross in the sky, accompanied by the words “By this, win!” He told all of his soldiers to put crosses on their shields, and from then on they won every battle. Sounds like a symbol of power, doesn’t it? Right from the very beginning!
You probably know the rest of the story: under Constantine Christianity became the official religion of the empire, making the church a political institution for the first time in its history. Finally, Christians could live out their faith without the fear of persecution.
Fast forward to today: the cross has become a global symbol of Christianity, which might make you think it’s always been that way. But, in fact, Christianity was around for over two centuries before Constantine chose to elevate the cross. When I found that out I got REALLY curious: what was the great symbol for Christianity before Constantine, when Christians were being persecuted? The answer might surprise you: The Good Shepherd.
The catacombs below Rome contain the oldest Christian art in existence, and by far the most common theme is The Good Shepherd, a picture we find in both the Old (Psalm 23) and New Testament (John 10). That shocked me. I would have chosen something else to represent God if I was being persecuted. Maybe the “strong tower” from Proverbs 18:10. Maybe the warrior from Exodus 15:3, Isaiah 42:13, and Zephaniah 3:17. Maybe the victorious Judge and King from Revelation 19.
But not a shepherd. Shepherds lead. Shepherds guide. I would want to believe that God was working on his plan for delivering me and destroying my enemies. I wouldn’t want to believe that God had led my bruised, broken body to be eaten by lions in the Roman Coliseum. What kind of Good Shepherd does that?
I’m an American. I want to win. To be on the winning team, a soldier in the winning army. I don’t want to suffer, and I REALLY don’t want to think that God wants me to.
But maybe my picture of God is wrong. Maybe Christianity isn’t a badge I put on my weapons to make them more effective. Maybe it isn’t a political institution protecting me from suffering, error and doubt. Maybe it isn’t the secret sauce I put on my life to make it successful.
Maybe true Christianity has always been a quiet, faithful obedience to the Shepherd’s voice. And maybe we artists should recapture that in the way we represent it.
Photo credit: 3.bp.blogspot.com
I like the observations, and historical perspective. I’m mainly thinking of the statements about suffering related to the symbolism connected to the cross. The cross is not necessarily a symbolism of suffering for every Christian (yes, I acknowledge the reality “take up your cross and follow me.”)
When Jesus bore the cross, it was transformed from a symbol of oppression and suffering into the ultimate symbol of hope and freedom. No longer is the cross the Christian’s doom, but his rescue. The Good Shepherd accomplished that rescue in the cross. In that central event in history, both the Good Shepherd and the Cross are united as symbols of those who follow Jesus.
Hi Dave, thanks for sharing your thoughts. You’re absolutely right: the cross has definitely come to represent many different things for many different people. In my post I only took a narrow view, focusing in on what I think has become its dominant cultural connotation.
As for the cross being a symbol of rescue, I think I understand what you mean: it now represents spiritual salvation in our culture. But remember that for the first two centuries of Christianity, the cross WAS a literal symbol of doom: Christians were being executed with them! I doubt that Peter saw the cross as a symbol of rescue when he was being hung upside down on one.
And even today, the cross isn’t a positive symbol for all people. This is from a Facebook comment I received from one of my missionary friends: “In Kosovo, Albanians despise the symbol of the cross because it’s the sign of the Serbian Orthodox Church, who they were in a bloody, violent war against less than two decades ago.”
My point is not that the cross is evil or that symbolism can’t shift or vary across cultures, but rather that cultural connotation MATTERS. We have to remember that our symbols don’t always mean to others what they mean to us, and that’s something that artists should take into consideration as we decide how to represent our faith.
Thanks,
Ben