Professor Butter Beard’s 12th Century Reliquary Cross
On top of my night table, next to the four books I am currently reading, there sits a small carved wooden box. Inside are some of my personal treasures: my father’s silver ID bracelet with an inscription from my mother, one of my mother’s brooches in the shape of a sheave of wheat, my high school National Honor’s Society pin, three clay fish created by George Bowden on the occasion of his ninetieth birthday, and a collection of Metropolitan Museum metal admission tags and collectable pins. My own personal reliquary treasure chest.
It has been well studied and confirmed that twelfth-century churchmen and nobility in central France (among many other areas of Europe) prided themselves on their devotion to the sacred sites of the Holy Land. Relics, the physical remains of a holy site or holy person, or objects with which they had contact, became more than just mementos brought home from long pilgrimages or the Crusades. They were reported to have healing powers and the ability to bestow honor and privilege upon the possessor. Enshrined within elaborately crafted reliquaries, these relics were sought after by monasteries for private devotion and cathedrals to decorate their sanctuaries and draw devoted pilgrims to worship before them.
One of my favorite examples is this reliquary cross crafted in Limoges, France, in the twelfth century. Housed now in The Cloisters museum in upper Manhattan, this double-armed cross is made from silver gilt, crystal, beaded and twisted wire and embossed rosettes on a wooden core. It is bejeweled on both sides with more than sixty individual glass cabochons (faux colored gemstones) and heavily engraved with inscriptions intended to identify the sacred relics placed within the rock crystal in the rectangular plaque set between the two upper cross arms. It is believed that within this crystal is a fragment from the wooden cross used to crucify Jesus Christ, which was allegedly found in the fourth century by Helena, mother of Constantine the Great.
The embedded blue glass cabochons meant to emulate sapphires and turquoise gems inspired these winter blueberry muffins. The berries, frozen immediately upon return from the summer farmer’s market, wake up and dance with the zest of oranges, lemons and limes. Try these on a snowy Saturday morning and I bet they will inspire a bit of devotion within you as well.