This is the second part of an article. Read part 1 here.

Hill of Crosses

My wife and I were holidaying in Lithuania. Together with another couple, we were driving a rented car from Kaunas to Klaipeda. Half way through, we drove to the well-known Hill of Crosses, outside the northern city of Šiauliai. We arrived at the place, in open country, under a threatening grey sky at about three in the afternoon.

The author’s wife, Irma, placing a cross with her parents’ particulars among the crosses on the Hill of Crosses in Lithuania.

There, in a large area on top of a mount, hundreds of thousands of crosses – small, large, life-size, wooden, ceramic, metallic – were placed during the last 150 years. It is believed that, initially, the first crosses were placed by mourning relatives of victims of revolts against the Russian regime of the time. The area was bulldozed twice during their occupation as religion was forbidden. But the Lithuanians persevered and continued to sneak to the place and plant crosses despite KGB agents’ patrol.

The crucified body of Christ on these crosses defies weather and time... and atheism.

My wife added another small cross to the lot, with her parents’ names and the dates of their birth and death on the back.

A sculpture of a crucified female saint venerated at the church of St John of Almedina, in Coimbra, Portugal.

We walked among these crosses, placed hanging near and upon each other, and reflected on the strong faith in Man, especially when oppressed by powerful abusing authoritarian regimes.

Crucifixes in Barcelona

Catalan sculptor Frederick Marès (1893-1991) spent much of his life collecting sculptures, statues, paintings and all sort of curiosities, among them cigarette cards, pipes, fans, holy water ceramic containers, photos, toys and umbrellas.

In his 1944 testament, he declared that his collection be bequeathed to the city of Barcelona. Today, it is housed in the Museu Frederick Marès, a former palace of the Inquisition behind the cathedral in the Gothic district.

Besides hundreds of small crosses and crucifixes which fill Room 10, among the religious sculptures in the collection there are many old life-size crucifixes too. For both believer and sceptic, these works of art are a showcase for comparisons, beautifully spectacular, an expression of faith, awe-inspiring treasures.

The intensity of the suffering Jesus went through on these crosses is impressively moving.

Crucified St Wilgefortis. Photo: Wikipedia

A crucified female saint

Accustomed to the association of crucifixion with Christ, little do we think about a cross having someone else on it. However, we know that St Andrew was crucified on a cross that was tilted in the shape of an ‘X’. We also know that St Peter was crucified head down – a scene witnessed by Seneca the Younger.

However, few perhaps know – at least, I never heard – that there are female saints who experienced death on a cross, too.

During a visit to the church of St John of Almedina, in Coimbra, Portugal, I noticed a very unusual crucified woman – whose name I could not trace. In the meantime, while surfing the internet, I encountered at least another crucified female saint − St Wilgefortis, who was crucified after refusing to marry a pagan king. She is represented with a beard which, allegedly grew after she prayed to avoid the attention of the king.

The fibreglass crucifix by Gianni Bonnici behind the main altar of Santa Luċija parish church.

Crux Invicta and other crucifixes

Reflecting on crucifixion, I recall that, once, driving up to Rabat, an Italian friend of mine asked me to stop in front of the place where nature sculpted a dead Christ on the main trunk of a ‘pine’ tree. She must have spent some 10 minutes praying beside the incredible next-to-life effigy.

In our churches and chapels, we have some beautiful and devotional crucifixes too.

In a chapel in Gozo’s Capuchin’s Friary, there is a ‘miraculous’ crucifix, artistically made in Messina, which was donated, allegedly, by Gozitan Canon Giovanni Francesco Agius De Soldanis, on November 1, 1746. Although the figure of Christ is very true to life, the dripping blood all over his body – from wounds sustained by the nails, from his head by the crown of thorns, from his shoulders by the weight of the cross, from his chest and knees – is surrealistic.

The miraculous crucifix venerated at Ta’ Ġieżu church, in Valletta. Photo retrieved from Ta’ Ġieżu Crucifix – Faith, History, Iconography, Conservation, Arċikonfraternità tas-Santissimu Kurċifiss, Malta 2020

A similar crucifix which enjoys no less devotion is venerated in the church of the Franciscan Friars Minor, in Valletta. It was sculpted out of wood by Frate Innocenzo, in the mid-17th century. It is sensual, realistic and stunningly beautiful.

And, in our parish church, dedicated to Pope St Pius X, in Santa Luċija, we have an extremely large crucifix, too. It was made of bronze-colour fibreglass by Maltese renowned sculptor Gianni Bonnici who also sculpted the Madonna on the right hand side of the altar.

I recall the day when the cross – made out of two large tree-trunks with tar surrounding the lower part of the standing one –, was lowered into the ground, just behind the main altar, where it dominates against the apse and over every celebration.

The crucifix high up on the main altar at the Mater Dei Hospital chapel.

Mater Dei Hospital chapel crucifix

During my first long stay at Mater Dei Hospital, I found time to pay a visit to its modern all-glass chapel, wherein there is an old life-size wooden polychrome 16th-century crucifix above the tabernacle, behind the main altar, brought to Malta by the Knights. It enjoys great devotion, especially from patients. Its Christ is impressive and striking; the death on His face is so realistic and moving.

There I prayed: “For a non-believer, it represents just a dead man on a cross. For the Christian, it is evidence of love, eternal love… Jesus who died to redeem humanity.”