[The Tallaght cross]
A friend of mine was in Tallaght recently and she brought me a little cross about 6 inches tall, calling it the Tallaght cross. I had never heard of it. It’s a bit different. Can you tell me what the meaning of it is? Thank you, Fr Donagh. [Lily]
Dear Lily,
Just to let other people know what we’re talking about, here’s a drawing of it:
I make it in different sizes. The one you got is 7½ inches tall. The original, in the garden, is 10 feet tall. This drawing is the logo of our Retreat Centre.
We are accustomed to seeing the figure of the dead or dying Christ on the cross, but the more ancient tradition showed a plain cross. The figure on the cross is a statement that ‘Christ has died,’ while the plain cross says ‘Christ is risen.’ We say ‘Christ has died, Christ is risen,’ but it is difficult to show both affirmations at once. In this ‘Tallaght Cross’ the figure is cut out from its background, and thereby becomes all the more visible: it is at once absent and present, it is present by its absence. Some people have called it ‘the Absent Presence’.
The veiling of the cross during Holy Week is a throw-back to the earlier tradition of a plain cross. It was meant to help us concentrate on the death of Christ by discouraging us from leaping too quickly to his resurrection. Of course this custom loses its meaning when the cross has a figure on it, but habits die slowly, especially when people forget the original meaning.
To come back to ‘the absent presence’: isn't this a contradiction in terms? Common sense would tell us that something (or someone) is either absent or present, but surely not both simultaneously. What sense does this make?
Think of it this way: what does full presence feel like? It feels like absence. This requires a bit of explanation, and I hope you’ll forgive me for quoting myself. The following few paragraphs are from a recent book, A Hundred Roads to Here: Introductions to Meditation.
“Fulfilment is the end of desire, but we are often so attached to the excitement of desire that we refuse fulfilment, and generate a further desire so as not to be without desire. At that point, desire is for desire itself: a longing for what is not yet fulfilled, not yet present.
Think of all the things you once desired but which are now invisible to you because you no longer desire them – since you possess them. The new piece of furniture is fully present in reality, but absent now from your desires.
Your real nature is present at all times, but it doesn't seem to satisfy you. So you return to the ego’s world of friction, desire, looking for more, longing for what is not given…. If you think about your real nature, you think of it as a new excitement: something better than anything you have ever experienced. But that cloud of desire for it is the very thing that hides it from you.
Best is to return to the unexciting emptiness of the present, reassuring yourself, if you need to, that it is enough. Say with ”
The figure on the cross is quite stylised: a circle for the head, a crescent for the outstretched arms, and an elongated shape to represent the body. When you look again you notice that it also represents the chalice and the host. This connects Christ’s death with his self-giving at the Last Supper, or rather it sees them as one. If we think of sacrifice in terms of animal sacrifice, then slaughter is the essence of it, because an animal is incapable of offering itself consciously. But Christ offered himself consciously (Heb 7:27; 9:14; 10:12; Eph 5:2). His self-giving at the Last Supper was as complete as his self-giving on Calvary (the expression ‘body and blood’ meant the whole self). Calvary was the evidence and measure of his self-giving, which was without measure.
This simple cross makes it clear that the self-giving of Jesus at the Last Supper – and in every Mass – is the same as his self-giving on Calvary. “Christ Jesus… emptied himself taking the form of a slave… and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7-8).
St Thomas Aquinas was once asked where he got his wisdom. “At the foot of the cross of Christ,” he replied. This simple cross reminds us of the wisdom of our ancient faith. “Christ crucified is the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24).
The cross itself is much simpler, as you see, than all the explanations!
Donagh