When modern readers consider the story of the death and resurrection of Jesus, we often imagine the story of the cross ending on Jesus' death. And yet many expressions of Christian lore have stories of this cross– sometimes called the true cross. For example, in the Roman Catholic tradition, the cross was allegedly discovered by Saint Helena... and promptly used to create magical artifacts, or "relics".
And yet few stories are as fascinating and compelling as the story of the Walking Cross, as found in the Gospel of Peter. In this noncanonical gospel, the cross itself is found emerging from the tomb. Consider the the passage below:
(34) Now when the morning of the Sabbath dawned, a crowd from Jerusalem and the surrounding countryside went that they might see the grave that had been sealed. (35) But during the night before the Lord's day dawned, while the soldiers were watching two by two as guards, there was a great voice in heaven. (36) And they saw the heavens being opened, and two men descended from there, having much radiance, and they approached the tomb. (37) But that stone which had been placed at the door rolled away by itself, and made way in part, and the tomb was opened, and both the young men went in.
(38) Then those soldiers seeing it woke up the centurion and the elders, because they were there too, keeping guard. (39) And while they were explaining to them what they saw, again they saw three men coming out of the tomb, with the two supporting the one, and a cross following them. (40) And the heads of the two reached as far as heaven, but that of the one being led by them reached beyond the heavens.
(41) And they heard a voice from the heavens, saying, "Have you proclaimed to those who sleep?"
(42) And a response was heard from the cross: "Yes!"
What is happening here? Let's explore this bewildering portion of a uniquely fascinating text.
That Which The Guards Saw
Now, later on in the passage, Mary Magdalene ended up seeing Jesus outside of the tomb in a passage very evocative of John 20. And yet, the guards– the Romans– did not see Jesus in the personal and intimate way that Mary saw him. They instead saw three humanoid figures:
- Two men who reached "as far as the heavens"
- One man being supported by the other two who "reached beyond the heavens"
Additionally, the group was followed by a cross– surely the cross.
We might assume that the man reaching beyond heavens, the third man, was Jesus. On the one hand, this is not an image of a fully restored Jesus; he requires the support of those under him. On the other hand– while the scope of Jesus' supporters was merely over the material realm, Jesus' reach was beyond that, into the heavens themselves.
This imagery tells us that, for the writers of this gospel, Jesus absolutely represents a figure who requires the help of us trapped here in the world– and yet he himself transcends it. Reaching beyond the heavens, above that which traps us.
And then there was the walking Cross.
That Which The Guards Heard
When these figures emerge, a voice from the heavens asks:
"Have you proclaimed to those who sleep?"
The language of Jesus' mission to awake the sleepers is incredible evocative and resonant with many early Christian texts, especially noncanonical ones. Some early Christians considered us to be living inside a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. One which Christ has come to wake us from.
The Romans, who helped to perpetuate the nightmare, and the ones who bear witness to this question. And who responds to it?
And a response was heard from the cross: "Yes!"
It is the cross, following behind, from who we hear a reply. Whether one interprets "those who sleep" as a sort of gnostic ignorance or as a harrowing of hell, it is the cross– not Christ, whose reach is into the very heavens from which the question emerges– from whom the answer comes.
What Happened On the Cross?
Why would the cross be the one to respond? Perhaps we should reflect on the Gospel of Peter's unique interpretation of the crucifixion:
(10) And they brought two wrongdoers and crucified the Lord in the middle of them, but he was silent as if having no pain.
...
(19) And the Lord cried out, saying, "My Power, the Power, you've left me!" And when he said this, it was taken up.
In this noncanonical gospel, the cross is not a place of defeat for Jesus. In fact, he does not seem to feel pain at all– at least until "my Power, the Power" has been taken away from him, in which suddenly he experiences the pain of the experience and dies.
In this story, the cross reveals to the world that Jesus was no mere human who felt pain, but rather was the incarnation of divine Power itself. And when that Power left, the cross revealed that it was the Power– not Jesus– who was ultimately the divine salvific figure.
So, reflecting back on the figure whose reach was beyond the heavens– was that Jesus? It certainly wasn't the Jesus devoid of divine Power. No, this figure was one whose authority had increased even beyond what it was when he was alive, into something greater– something reaching into the heavens, themselves.
The cross, for the Gospel of Peter, is a call to action. A call to wake up, to arise from sleep, to see that there is a power beyond this material world, which is in the world but not of the world, and which would rescue us. It is this cross which boldly problems: Yes!