I was in Assisi last week when news of Archbishop Viganò’s dossier broke, swelling the tsunami of scandal that raged all summer. The geography alone was fortuitous because it meant I could go and pray before the San Damiano Crucifix.
This is not really a crucifix but an icon dating from the early 12th century written on the broad, flat panels of a Latin cross. Surrounding the figure of the Crucified are other painted images. There is a cockerel to reminds us of Peter’s denial and a shadowy figure of a fox or a cat, symbolising deceitful, cunning acts of treachery, placed there as reminder that Christ died to overcome the evils of both public and secret sin. All such have been present in the Church since the beginning. The cross stands on a solid mass of rock, said to represent the Church. Below it, almost obscured by the constant kissing by pilgrims, are the images of saints who, in their turn, appear to be supporting the rock of the Church. The merits of Christ’s Passion and those of the saints will never leave the Church.
