The Absurdity of Turning a Cross of Conquest into a Symbol of Spirituality
If Jesus is alive today, with billions of followers, would He wage a war? Would he lead a conquering army? Will He use a cross for his banner?
In Jesus’ time, the cross was a Roman instrument of torture and execution. If Jesus, in His own time, saw the cross glorified in gold and banners for His movement, he might be deeply disturbed. Will He likely oppose the use of the cross today as the symbol for the religion that bears His name?
For centuries, the cross has been paraded as a symbol of divine love and redemption. Yet its history—marked by crusades, colonization, and coercion—tells a different story. This article explores how the cross became a banner of empire rather than a beacon of peace, and why Deists reject it in favor of a more rational, nature-based spirituality.
From Execution Device to Military Emblem
In the three hundred years after Jesus’ death, Christians viewed the cross with dread. It was an instrument of state terror. It was only later, especially after Emperor Constantine’s so-called vision—“In this sign, conquer”—that the cross was adopted as a military emblem. With Constantine’s fusion of Christianity and empire, the cross shifted from being a symbol of martyrdom to one of domination.
The transformation was both theological and political. No longer was the kingdom of God “not of this world.” Now it marched alongside armies. And the cross—once an indictment of empire—now crowned its banners.
The Crusades: Bloodshed in the Name of the Cross
Nowhere is this transformation more visible than in the Crusades. Beginning in 1095, Christian knights from Europe launched a series of holy wars against Muslims, Jews, and even Eastern Christians. They were rallied by papal decrees that promised eternal reward for those who took up the cross—literally sewing the symbol into their garments and shields.
The First Crusade culminated in the 1099 siege of Jerusalem. Chroniclers recount how streets ran red with blood. The cross, now a holy war insignia, justified slaughter in the name of sanctified conquest.
Reformation Flags and Protestant Power
Even during the Protestant Reformation, when reformers challenged the corruption of the medieval Church, the cross remained a tool of political identity and religious nationalism. Martin Luther’s break with Rome may have centered on theological grievances, but it also aligned with the interests of German princes who adopted the cross as a symbol of resistance against papal authority—and, at times, justification for violence against Catholic states. At the time of Adolf Hitler, the cross, now appearing as the swastika, has become a symbol of racism and hatred.
With the rise of European colonialism, the cross traveled across oceans—not as a message of liberation, but often as a harbinger of conquest. Spanish and Portuguese conquistadors bore the cross into the Americas, Africa, and Asia. Priests accompanied soldiers, blessing their mission to “civilize” indigenous populations. Baptism often followed enslavement.
Why Deists Do Not Use the Cross
Deists, who believe in a Creator accessible through reason and nature rather than revelation and dogma, deliberately avoid the use of the cross as a spiritual symbol. For them, the cross does not represent the universal truths of nature, conscience, or cosmic order—but rather a particular religious narrative that has too often been used to exclude, divide, and dominate.
Deists honor the moral teachings of figures like Jesus, but they reject the theological framework that turned his execution into a cosmic transaction. The crucifixion story—central to orthodox Christianity—is viewed by many Deists as a tragic political event, not a divine necessity.
How Deists Transcend the Cross
Deists transcend the cross by shifting the spiritual focus away from symbols rooted in blood sacrifice, religious hierarchy, and institutional dogma—toward the universal and unmediated experience of the Divine in nature, reason, and moral conscience.
They embrace a Creator who reveals not through sacred texts or crucifixions, but through the intricate beauty and order of the universe. The sacred is not confined to a relic of execution, but is found in the rhythm of the cosmos, the unfolding of natural laws, and the quiet stirrings of moral insight.
Reclaiming a Better Way
Today, many still look to the cross as a sign of hope. But to do so honestly requires confronting its history. The cross was not always a gentle whisper of grace. It was painted on shields, emblazoned on flags, and hoisted on ships—not to bring peace, but to kill and declare ownership.
Understanding this dual legacy does not require the rejection of the cross by those who cherish it. But it does demand honesty. For Deists, however, the better path is not to reclaim the cross—but to transcend it.
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Why the Early Christians Avoided Using the Cross as a Symbol
In the first few centuries of Christianity, the cross—now the most recognized symbol of the Christian faith—was notably absent from early Christian art and public identity. This was not due to a lack of devotion, but rather a combination of cultural, emotional, and practical reasons rooted in the harsh realities of the time.
The cross was, in Roman society, a tool of brutal execution. It was reserved for the worst criminals and slaves, symbolizing shame, suffering, and public humiliation. For early Christians, who revered Jesus as the Son of God, openly displaying a cross could have seemed contradictory or even irreverent, especially while the wounds of his crucifixion were still fresh in cultural memory. It was emotionally painful and socially dangerous to venerate a symbol so closely tied to disgrace and torture.
Moreover, early Christians lived under the threat of persecution. Public displays of faith, especially ones tied to a condemned rebel’s death, invited scrutiny and punishment. It was not until the fourth century, after Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity, that the cross began to be embraced as a triumphant symbol of redemption and victory over death. What had once been a mark of shame became, through theological reflection and historical transformation, the central emblem of Christian faith.
Personally, even as a non-Christian, I don’t see the logic of venerating the cross. I see it instead as an insult to Jesus from a certain perspective—especially when viewed through historical and ethical lenses rather than later theological tradition. If I have a loved one die through a bullet wound inflicted by criminal, would it not be insane for me to retrieve the bullet, or make a symbol of it, and then to give it a very special place in my life?
Making the cross the central Christian symbol shifts the focus from his moral and spiritual teachings to his gruesome death. From a critical or Deistic viewpoint, the cross as a grim reminder of injustice—a state-sponsored murder of a peaceful teacher. Jesus, in His own words, seemed to desire to be remembered through communal fellowship, moral action, and faithful living, rather than through relics or the tragic symbol of his execution.