This is the so called 'Cross of Gero'

The Cross of Gero might look like any other Crucifix that you would find hanging in a church, on the walls of Catholic classrooms or hospitals, or even on the end of your granny's rosary beads. Today we freely portray the agonising suffering and death of Christ in the most graphic of representations.

As we can see, the Cross of Gero is an exceptionally beautiful depiction of the crucifixion, but in a religious icon so numerous one should expect pearls. What is of interest is its place in history. The development of the depictions of the crucifixion in art has taken a new path since the Cross of Gero.

In its day this sculptured crucifix was an innovation. Carved of oak, it was probably the first fully three-dimensional, 'in the round' and life-size depiction of the crucifixion. But, more importantly than that, it was the first real portrayal of a suffering Christ. It was an innovation that set a precedent for the proliferation of passion images throughout the west.

Called the 'Cross of Gero', this crucifix is named after the man who commissioned it, the Archbishop Gero; who was (as well as being a high-ranking clergyman) chancellor of the Holy Roman Empire and a leading figure in the Ottonian court.

Gero was Archbishop of Cologne from 965 to 976 AD and it is assumed that the cross was crafted at that time. Ottonian art is better known for manuscript illuminations, metalwork and even ivory relief, rather than wood sculptures. However, during the Ottonian period (mid Tenth Century to the beginning of the Eleventh Century) Germany, centred at the city of Cologne, was the leading nation of Europe, politically as well as artistically and thus we can expect the best craftsmen in all trades to have gravitated to it. Nor should we be surprised by any Byzantine influence in the arts, considering political ties. Otto II had married a Byzantine princess and it is said that it was Gero himself who travelled to Constantinople to negotiate the marriage.

Of the earliest depictions of Christ actually on the cross, we have two examples from the Fifth Century. Both are set in relief and are from Rome; one is carved in stone on a sarcophagus and the other carved in wood on the doors of the Church of Santa Sabina. From the Sixth Century Jesus was depicted on the cross in an image of virtual triumph (it is almost as if it is he that is holding up the cross rather than the cross supporting him). Therein, this Christus Triumphans is robed from neck to feet (sometimes with the arms bare) and he stands firmly, his feet apart and head held strong looking straight forward.

By the Ninth Century the Christus Patiens with closed eyes, head bowed, sagged body and loin cloth became common enough an icon. While a noticeable influence on and forerunner to our subject, these images representing the dead Christ lacked any semblance of pain, torment or hardship and instead portray a stylised body asleep in peaceful serenity. Since the time of the Cross of Gero and into the Medieval period the Christus Patiens itself had become more expressive and emotional (as can be seen in Cimabue's wondrous and stylised example). However, what is truly amazing is how an Ottonian artist had translated the Christus Patiens into not only a three-dimensional form, but into something so dramatically moving. The real-size face having been strained in agony is now collapsed in death.



Though no examples remain, there is existing evidence of metal crucifixes in the round from the Carolingian period. Those crosses, it is assumed, have nothing of the scale of the cross of Gero. Nor (if depictions of the crucifixion in Carolingian manuscripts are anything to go by) were they images of suffering. This was a new thing and, though not completely removed from the existing tradition, the beginning of a new tradition. Its influence from its home in the then virtual capital of Medieval Europe can be seen by the vast number of monumental crucifixes of that period. Years ahead of its time this cross is a forerunner to a great tradition that is artistic, visual, literal, musical and even spiritual.

Here we can see a contrast in that there is an obvious difference in the spiritualities and religious devotion of Christianity from East to West. This difference finds its obvious expression in the visual arts. The foremost image of Christ in Byzantine art is that of the Pantocrator, usually a severe- looking image of the judging Christ complete with book in hand and stern imposing looks. The primary Christian icon in the west, since the cross of Gero, has been the crucifix. This is a divergence from the traditions of the east where a concern for a conservative adherence to 'orthodox' gives little rise to growth, innovation or development, be it artistic or theological. Not just artistic, this fundamentally spiritual difference even strikes at the head of how religious adherers perceive their worship. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition they refer to the 'divine Liturgy', whereas in the West the Eucharistic celebration is called the 'Holy Sacrifice of the Mass'; one a public duty based on unity with the state (synonymous with the Kingdom of God), the other a re-presenting of Christ of the cross. Thus we can see the connection between theology, spirituality, worship and art.

Also ahead of its time, the Cross of Gero has a carved cavity in the back of its head. This cross, as well as being a visual focal point for a ceremonial setting, had a liturgical function. In this case it was for the reservation of the Sacred Hosts that was left over from the Christian service. Reflecting the Western concern of seeing the Eucharistic celebration as predominantly a mystical re-presence of Christ's self-giving sacrifice on the cross, this sculpture is virtually an icon of the Mass itself.

To understand the acceptance this image received (and, indeed, its subsequent proliferation) it is worth taking a look at the predominant theological thinking of the time. Against early Christological controversies (mainly Arianism) the official Church (both East and West) had stood firm to an essential balance in its understanding of the mystery of Christ, at once God and human being. For Augustine (the dominant theological authority in the West until Thomas Aquinas) Christ is the Mediator between God and man. That is to say that as the Word incarnate, both God and man, Jesus leads us to eternity through temporal realities; identifying completely with our human condition, Jesus Christ gives us hope for eternal life by mediating divinity to us. In this system of thought Jesus is fully human, suffers unto death, but being God he so takes the essence of life, God, to death. Therein, according to St Augustine, Jesus' death is the extreme to which God would go to call man back to himself as well as man's most complete response to God. And that's the appeal of the cross of Gero: it gloriously shows the extent to which God would go to be with the believer and pull him or her out of their misery while allowing the believer to identify with Jesus/God personally.

The greatest of all Medieval scholars, St Thomas Aquinas, witting a couple of hundred years after the crafting of this cross (but reflecting back on the Christian tradition), noticed that all Christian spiritualities are ways of presenting and interrelating two fundamental pathos, that of Christian joy and that of Christian sorrow. He explained that the Liturgy (the ceremonies and rites of the Christian Church) is the congruent setting for the contemplation of these mysteries. The 'spiritualis laetitia mentis' (spiritual joy of mind) is caused by contemplation of and meditation on the divine goodness and mercy to which one is moved principally by prayerful consideration of the suffering and death of the man/God Jesus Christ. To express this and help others experience this joy of God's empathy with man, the Christian artist in the Western tradition has, starting with the Cross of Gero, employed images of the suffering Christ. This is the image of mercy. Looking at the face of this Crucifix the believer can easy recall the betrayal, the denial, the severe physical as well as mental anguish and be consoled in their own misery, for this is how their God wrought their salvation.

This spiritual insight into the Medieval mindset enlightens us to a cultural predisposition found in Western man. One is hard-pressed, in any other culture, to find images (whether literal or visual) that romanticises suffering in such a way. And, visually speaking, the earliest known image of the suffering servant found in Western art is the Cross of Gero.