From Msgr. Gaume's 'The Sign of the Cross'

IN the month of November of the year 1862, a young German Catholic of great distinction arrived in Paris to pursue his course in the College of France. Faithful, according to the traditional usage of his country, to make the Sign of the Cross before and after meals, he, on the first day, became the wonder of his school-companions. The next day, in virtue of the freedom of worship, he was the object of their mockeries. In one of his visits he begged us to tell him what we thought of the practice, of which his companions were trying to make him ashamed, and of the Sign of the Cross in general. The following letters are intended as an answer to those two questions.

December 6th.

THE Sign of the Cross is a treasure which enriches us; this is one of the reasons of its being. It enriches us, because it is an excellent prayer. This is, my dear friend, as you have not forgotten, the point of doctrine we have just established. Half the proof has already been given. It is in the antiquity, the universality, the perpetuity of the Sign of the Cross. In the midst of the shipwreck in which the idolatrous world allowed so many primitive revelations to be lost or damaged, we see the Sign of the Cross floating on the surface. What says this strange fact, new to you, incomprehensible to a great number, but most reasonable to the Christian accustomed to reflect? It speaks eloquently of the high utility of the Sign of the Cross for man, because it tells its powerful efficacy over the heart of God. From reasoning, let us proceed to facts. The Sign of the Cross is a prayer; a powerful, universal prayer. It is a prayer. What is a man who prays? He is one who confesses his indigence before God; his intellectual, moral, and material indigence. He is a beggar at the rich man’s door. Now, the beggar prays with his voice, but more eloquently by his pale and emaciated face, by his infirmities, his tattered clothes and his attitude. Thus prayed on the Cross the adorable Mendicant of Calvary. In that state, the Son of God was more than ever the object of the infinite complacency of His Father. He Himself tells us that that eloquent prayer, more in action than in words, was the powerful lever which drew all things to Him. (John, 12:33 )

What does a man do when he forms the Sign of the Cross, either with his hand, or by extending his arms? He impresses upon himself the image of the Divine Mendicant; he identifies himself with Him. It is Jacob clothing himself with the garments of Esau, that he may obtain the paternal benediction. What does he say to God? By this attitude of faith, humility, and devotedness, he says: “Behold in me your Christ, respice in faciem Christi tui;” a prayer more eloquent than all the words that could be spoken. “It ascends,” says St. Ambrose, “and the alms descend.” Ascendit deprecatio et descendit Dei miseratio. Such is the Sign of the Cross, even without a formula. It does not speak, yet it says all. It is a powerful prayer. When an agent of the authorities, a commissary of police, mayor, or gendarme, lays his hand upon a culprit, he says: “I arrest you in the name of the law.” In the words, “In the name of the law,” the guilty man sees the authority of his country, the strength of the army, the judges, the king himself; and he allows himself to be taken.

When, then, man, threatened by danger, assailed by doubts, persecuted by temptation, a prey to suffering and sickness, pronounces these words of solemn authority, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,” and while pronouncing them makes the sign by which the world has been redeemed, and Hell vanquished, how can you explain the continued resistance of evil? Has not man fulfilled all the conditions of success? Is not God, in some way, obliged to intervene, and by His intervention, to glorify His name and the power of His Christ? The particular efficacy of the Sign of the Cross has never been doubted, either by the Church, or by Christian generations. The gravest theologians teach even that the Sign of the Cross operates of itself, and independently of him who makes it. They give us several proofs: I will cite only two. The first is the custom of incessantly repeating the Sign of the Cross. “If it did not produce,” say they, “its effects of itself, Christians would have no reason for making use of it so frequently. What good would it do to have recourse to it, when a motion of the soul, or any good action whatsoever, would suffice to obtain or realize what they hope to obtain or realize by the Sign of the Cross?” (Gretzer, lib. iv. c. 62, p. 703. Gregorius de Valentia, Suarez, Bellarminus, Pyræus, et al.)

The second rests on facts celebrated in history and of incontestable authenticity: I will relate a few. The first, is that of Julian the Apostate. A deserter from the true God, that emperor becomes, by an inevitable conclusion, an adorer of the Demon. To learn the secrets of the future, he seeks throughout Greece for men in communication with the Evil Spirit. A sorcerer presents himself, who promises to satisfy his curiosity. Julian is conducted into a temple of the idols. The conjurations are pronounced, and the emperor sees himself surrounded by’ demons, whose appearance fills him with terror. By a gesture of thoughtless fear, he makes the Sign of the Cross, and the demons disappear. The sorcerer complains, and repeats his incantations. The demons reappear. Julian forgets himself again and, at the Sign of the Cross, the spirits of darkness again take flight.(Orat. I., contr. Julian. 4 Dial., lib. iii. c. 7.). This fact, related by St. Gregory Nazianzen, Theodoret, and other Fathers of the Church, caused great excitement in the East.

The second is better known in the West. We have it from Pope Saint Gregory. The illustrious pontiff commences his relation by the following words.

Let us relate another fact. We read, in the Ecclesiastical History of Nicephorus, that under the emperor Mauritius, Chosroes II, king of Persia, sent an embassy to Constantinople, and that all the Persians who composed it had the Sign of the Cross marked on their foreheads. The emperor asked them why it was that they bore a sign in which they did not believe.

After these facts naturally follows the reflection of the great Bishop of Hippo, which seems decisive in favor of the teachings of theologians.

That we may remain within the limits of orthodoxy, we must, however, add that the Sign of the Cross does not operate of itself, purely and simply, but in as much as is useful for our salvation and that of others. It is the same with it as with certain other practices, such as, for example, exorcisms, to which no divine promise attaches effects infallible and unconditional. I add, that the piety of him who makes the Sign of the Cross contributes to its efficacy. This sign is a silent invocation of Jesus Crucified; consequently, it is so much the more efficacious as it is made with greater fervor. Again, the invocation with the heart or the mouth is so much the more likely to obtain its effect, as the Christian who makes it is more virtuous and more agreeable to the Lord.

It is a universal prayer. In one sense the Sign of the Cross may say, like our Savior Himself: “All power has been given to me in Heaven and on Earth.” Here, more than anywhere else, we must, my dear Frederic, reason with facts. They are so numerous that the only difficulty is to choose among them. All, and each in its manner, proclaim on one side the faith of our ancestors, and on the other, the empire of the Sign of the Cross over the visible and invisible worlds. It provides for all the wants of both soul and body. For his soul, man has need of lights; the Sign of the Cross obtains them. St. Porphyius, Bishop of Gaza, is obliged to dispute with a Manichean woman. In order to dispel, by the clearness of his reasoning, the darkness with which the unfortunate woman is surrounded, he makes the Sign of the Cross, and light shines on that darkened intellect. Julian, the crowned sophist, provokes a controversy with Cæsarius, brother of St. Gregory Nazianzen. The generous athlete enters the lists armed with the Sign of the Cross. To an enemy perfect in that art of warfare, and skilful in his manner of reasoning, he opposes the standard of the Word, and the spirit of lies is caught in his own snares.(S. Greg. Nazian. In laud. Cæsar). St. Cyril of Jerusalem, so powerful in words and deeds, orders recourse to be had to the Sign of the Cross every time that he is to engage in combat with the pagans, and he assures them that they shall be reduced to silence.(Catech., xiii.).

In the temporal order, no less than in the spiritual, divine lights are necessary to man; they also are obtained by the Sign of the Cross. The emperors of the East, the successors of Constantine, when they had to speak before the Senate, always began by the Sign of the Cross.(Coripp. Deland. Justin. Jun.). As we have already seen, St. Louis, before discussing in council the affairs of his kingdom, always conformed himself to this most ancient and religious practice. If, after the example of the greatest princes who have governed the world, the emperors and kings of the nineteenth century should have recourse to the Sign of the Cross, do you think that affairs should be in a worse state than they are? As for me, I am as convinced as I am of my own existence, that they would be much better. Are not those who govern now as much in need of light as those who governed in former times? Do they pretend to find it elsewhere than in Him who is its source? Do they know of a means more certain to invoke Him with success? Do not all ages bear witness to its efficacy? Does not the Church, which ought to be their oracle, continue to proclaim it? Is there a council, a conclave, or a religious assembly that is not begun with the Sign of the Cross? Do the Catholic priests, faithful inheritors of tradition, ever speak from the pulpit without being armed with this sign of strength and light? In this they observe the precept of the ancient Fathers. “Make the Sign of the Cross,” says St. Cyril of Jerusalem, “and you shall speak; Fac hoc signum et loqueris.” (Catech. illuminat., iv).

What I have said of kings, my dear friend, must be said of all those who are charged with teaching others. Is not the Incarnate Word the God of science and of all sciences, the Professor of professors, the Master of masters? If the Sign of the Cross presided over all the lessons that are now given, over all the books that are now printed, do you think we would be inundated, as we are, with errors, sophistry, false ideas, and incoherent systems, whose incontestable result is to cause the modern world to sink again into that intellectual darkness from which Christianity has drawn it? For his soul, man needs strength: the Sign of the Cross is the fruitful source of it. Look at your illustrious ancestors, the martyrs. From what did they seek the courage to triumph in their heroic combats? From the Sign of the Cross. Generals of armies, centurions, soldiers, magistrates, senators, patricians, and plebeians, children and aged men, matrons and .young virgins, all were careful, when descending into the arena, to cover themselves with this invincible armor: insuperabili christianorurn armatura. Come with me; I will name a few to you. In Cæsarea, see that generous martyr, who walks to the place of execution surrounded by an immense concourse of people. It is the centurion Gordius. See him, calm and collected, arming his forehead with the Sign of the Cross. (S. Basil, Orat. in S. Gord). What is that town in Armenia, situated in the midst of snows, and on the borders of a frozen lake? It is Sebaste. Behold, coming here in the evening, forty men, bound with cords, and stripped of their garments, who are being dragged to the midst of the lake, condemned to pass the night there. Who are they? Forty veterans of the army of Licinius. A superhuman force of resistance is so much the more necessary, because on the shore, warm baths are prepared for those who will apostatize. They make the Sign of the Cross, and an heroic death comes to crown their courage. (SS. Martyr.).

We have seen the young Agnes as a living Sign of the Cross amidst the flames. Behold other Christian virgins, born like her in the Golden Age of the martyrs. The first is St. Thecla, illustrious by her birth, more illustrious by her faith. The executioners have seized upon her; they conduct her to the funeral pile; she mounts it with a firm step, makes the Sign of the Cross, and remains calm and tranquil in the midst of the flames. At the same moment, the rain descends in torrents, the flames are extinguished; and, like the children of Babylon, the young heroine comes forth from the fire without one hair of her head being injured. (Ado, in Martyrol., Sept. 23).

The second is St. Euphemia, no less celebrated than the first. Upon the orders of the judge, the instruments of torture are made ready in an instant. The young virgin is about to be stretched on the wheel: she makes the Sign of the Cross, and advances towards the frightful engine, bristling with iron spikes; she gazes on it without any terror, and by that glance, causes it to fly into fragments. (Apud. Sur. t. v. at Baron. Martyrol., Sept. 16). Look again. We stand in one of the Roman prætoriums, so often crimsoned with the blood of our fathers, so often the witnesses of their sublime answers and their heroic constancy. It is during the persecutions of Decius; you know that sanguinary emperor, that execrable animal, as Lactantius calls him: execrabile animal Decius. Before the judge stands a band of Christians. The accuser comes, according to custom, to charge them with all sorts of crimes. They are already condemned; they know it. What do they do? Raising their eyes to Heaven they make the Sign of the Cross, and say to the proconsul, “You shall see that we are neither cowardly nor faint-hearted.” (Apud. sur. Apr. 13). Were I to continue this list, I should have to cause the innumerable army of martyrs to pass before you in review. There is not one of those valorous soldiers of the Crucified who, in going to combat, did not bear the standard of his King. Let it suffice to name a few. St. Julian and St. Pontian, St. Constant and St. Crescent, St. Isidore, St. Nazarius and St. Celsus, St. Maximinus, St. Alexander, St. Sophia and her three daughters, St. Paul and St. Juliana, St. Cyprian and St. Justina. (See their Acts.). Taken from all countries and all conditions, they bear witness that it was a universal custom among the martyrs to arm themselves with that sign of strength, before entering the lists with men, with beasts, or with the elements.

But better still; fearing that the weight of the chains would prevent them from forming the Sign of the Cross, they ask the Christians, their brethren, or the priests, their fathers, to arm them with the victorious sign. Corribonus, converted to the faith by the martyr St. Eleutherius, goes himself into the amphitheatre to seek the crown of martyrdom. “Pray for me,” says he to his father in Jesus Christ, “and arm me with the Sign of the Cross, the same with which you have armed Felix the general.” ( Apud. sur., Apr. 18). Glyceria, the noble daughter of a father thrice consul, is seized and cast into a narrow prison. The first act she performs, on seeing herself in the hands of her enemies, is to beg the holy priest, Philocratus, to make the Sign of the Cross on her forehead. The priest grants her desire, saying, “May this sign of the Crucified fulfill all your desires.” (Apud. sur., Apr. 18, t. iii. et Baron. t. ii.). They are all accomplished. The young heroine descends into the amphitheatre. At the moment she is about to gather the palm of victory, she turns towards the Christians, who mingle with the crowd, and says with all the spirit of a warrior about to die for his flag: “Brethren, sisters, children, fathers, and all you who hold to me the place of a mother, beware; watch over yourselves, and consider well who is the Emperor whose mark and sign is engraved on our foreheads.”(Ibid.). You have heard it; in the Sign of the Cross all the martyrs sought for strength. And would they have looked for strength from a nonentity? Would the great Emperor, for whom they died, have allowed them to remain in an incurable illusion? If any one believes this, let him give his proofs.( pp. 51-57)

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