The True Cross

 The "True Cross" refers to the cross upon which Jesus of Nazareth was crucified. Although it would have been of ordinary wood, Classical and Medieval and Renaissance legends decided it had to be something more than that.

The Golden Legend by Jacob de Voragine has several different origin stories for the wood of the Cross. In one, the Cross was made from the wood of three trees which grew from three seeds that had been planted by Seth in the mouth of his father's, Adam's, corpse. Seth had taken the seeds from the "Tree of Mercy" (which is not part of the Biblical story).

Another version related by Voragine explains that the wood came from a cutting from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, also planted by Seth on Adam's grave.

From either of these origins, an elaborate provenance was created to get the wood from Eden to Golgotha. The wood was made into the rod of Moses, which was planted by King David in Jerusalem, from which grew a tree that enabled Solomon to carve a beam for his temple. Eventually, the tree was cut down for wood that was used to build a bridge used by the Queen of Sheba to visit Solomon. The Queen had a vision that a piece of wood from the bridge would lead to the replacing of God's covenant with the Jews (this would be Jesus and his message). Solomon, thinking this a tragedy, had the wood buried. It was exhumed years later and some was used to make the True Cross.

How did it come to be discovered after the crucifixion? For that, we must talk about a remarkable woman, the Empress Helena of Constantinople, which we will do next.

The Golden Legend, Part 2

A copy sold by Christies in 2002 for $688,000

About 1260, the Archbishop of Genoa, Jacobus de Voragine, wrote a collection of hagiographies (saints' lives) which he called Legenda sanctorum ["Legends of the saints"]. It turned out to be extremely popular, quickly taking on the name by which it is known today: Legenda aurea ["The Golden Legend"]. Over 800 hand-made copies exist from the era prior to the printing press.

The term "legend" at the time was able to convey the idea of truth as well as fiction in this kind of work, and rightfully so. Jacobus was not concerned with creating a well-documented and historically accurate account of saints. He was interested in producing inspiration and enlightenment, and that cannot be left to the facts.

And so we have our major reports of saints such as St. George whose faith enabled him to slay the Dragon, and St. Christopher whose name means Christ-bearer and whose major feat in life was to bear a child across a river who turned out to be Jesus Christ in disguise. The 20th century acknowledges that these saints are likely never to have existed, but for Jacobus their example for Christians is far more important than determining whether they actually lived. He not only told the stories of their lives and major exploits (in great detail), he frequently analyzed their names, explaining their symbolic significance. Jacobus knew Latin, and would have been aware that his interpretations of Latin names was frequently more creative than etymological, but that didn't matter to him as much as holding the saints up as exemplars for proper behavior. He did not, however, take an "anything goes" approach: in his life of St. Margaret, when she is swallowed by a dragon whose belly breaks open due to her prayer, he labels the incident "apocryphal."

Which is not to say that he made everything up on his own. Scholars believe that he was drawing much of his knowledge from previous texts that they can identify. In fact, the 16th century—a time of church reform and re-examination of long-held beliefs and practices—saw a rejection of many of the stories of the Legend because of their fanciful nature. Still, it was an extremely popular work for the masses. William Caxton's English edition in 1483 went to several printings between then and 1527, attesting to its enduring attraction for readers. Although the chapters tend to start sounding the same after a time, it is still studied today as an example of medieval tastes and beliefs.

The Golden Legend, Part 1

The post about Julian the Hospitaller mentioned its source in the Legenda Aurea ["The Golden Legend"] of Jacobus de Voragine. It was about time to get around to one of the most popular works of the Middle Ages.

Originally called Legenda sanctorum ["Legends of the saints"], it was written by Jacobus de Voragine (c.1230 - 1298). Born in Varazze on the northwest coast of Italy,* Jacobus became a Dominican and teacher in 1244. He was active in several roles in the Order, including being offered to be made archbishop of Genoa, a position he initially refused. In 1292 he finally agreed, and was invited to Rome by Pope Nicholas IV. Unfortunately, when he reached Rome the pope was very ill and unable to perform the ceremony. It took a little while to find a replacement, during which time the cardinals chose to consecrate Jacobus in his new title. As Archbishop of Genoa, he worked to reconcile the conflict between the Guelphs and Ghibellines. He also repaired churches and monasteries, enforced discipline in the clergy, and made an Italian translation of the Bible (now lost).

He also wrote extensively: sermons on saints, a book on the Gospels, a book on all aspects of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a defense of Dominicans, and a summary of the virtues and life of Dominican William Perrault. His most enduring contribution to posterity was the collection of saints' tales now called The Golden Legend, which will be a good topic for tomorrow.

He died of natural causes, and was beatified by Pope Pius VII in 1816.

*"de Voragine" is the Latin for "from Varazze."

Saint Oedipus?

St. Julian killing his parents.
Oil on panel, c.1488, by Antonio della Corna

Everyone knows the story of Oedipus. Not to be outdone, early Christianity has its own story of a similar patricidal tragedy. The popular 13th century Legenda Aurea ["Golden Legend"] of Jacobus de Voragine is the source of many saints' legends—sometimes the only source, and therefore suspect—and it is where we learn the story of St. Julian the Hospitaller.

At his birth (early in the first century CE), his father saw pagan witches lay a curse on his son that would cause him to kill his parents some day. His father realized that killing his son was the best plan to avoid his and his wife's own future demise, but the baby's mother would not allow it. Unfortunately, the boy Julian frequently saw his mother crying while he was growing up, and one day at the age of ten she told him why. Learning that his fate was to kill his parents, and swearing that he would never do so, he left home. After 50 days of walking, he had reached Galicia in northwest Spain. He eventually married.

Twenty years later, his parents decided to go looking for him. Arriving in Galicia, they visited the altar of St. James to pray. Coming out, they met a woman and asked her if she could take in a pair of travelers who had nowhere to stay. She agreed, and took them home. Explaining that her husband, Julian, was out hunting, they discovered that they had met their own daughter-in-law. Delighted to have found each other, she put them into her own bed to sleep.

In the words of the Legend,

And on the morn the wife of Julian went to the church, and her husband came home whiles she was at church, and entered into his chamber for to awake his wife. And he saw twain in his bed, and had weened that it had been a man that had lain with his wife, and slew them both with his sword, and after, went out and saw his wife coming from church.
Then he was much abashed and demanded of his wife who they were that lay in his bed, then she said that they were his father and his mother, which had long sought him, and she had laid them in his bed. [link]

The horribly distraught Julian was comforted by his wife, who implored him to keep faith in God. To atone, Julian built several hospitals for the comfort of strangers.

He is the patron saint of hunters and of innkeepers. His feast day is 12 February.