What do you think?
Rate this book


Hardcover
First published January 15, 1941
The piece I’ve chosen is the folio from the Vercelli Book containing the Old English poem The Dream of the Rood. This work is one of the earliest surviving Christian poems in English, preserved in a 10th-century manuscript compiled by an anonymous scribe. The poem offers a deeply poetic vision of Christ’s crucifixion, told from the perspective of the Cross itself. In a dreamlike vision, the narrator sees the Cross, first adorned in gold and jewels, then soaked in blood, speak of the Crucifixion as both trauma and triumph. Jesus is not portrayed as a passive sufferer but as a heroic warrior who boldly climbs onto the Cross to fulfill his mission.
I chose this work for several reasons. My own theological background tends to reject visual depictions of Christ as violations of the Second Commandment, so I was naturally drawn to a work that isn't rooted in image, but in language and imagination. I also chose it because of its emotional complexity and rich symbolism. It is both visually evocative and theologically provocative, rendering Jesus not only as Savior but as Lord, not only as human but as majestic and divine. But perhaps most compelling is the likelihood that the Vercelli Book, which includes homilies, saints’ lives, and devotional texts alongside this poem, was written for a monastic context that included, or was perhaps even primarily composed of, religious women (Miller). With that in mind, this poem offers an opportunity to explore how medieval Christian women may have seen Jesus, and how their roles and desires shaped the Christ who was offered to them in word and worship.
I’ve encountered this poem before in a Medieval Literature class at a different university and again in a British History course last semester. In both cases, the focus was on the poem’s warrior imagery, particularly how it aligns with Anglo-Saxon ideals of heroism and honor. However, as Miller argues, a more nuanced reading considers the devotional practices and emotional landscapes of early medieval women. If the Vercelli Book was indeed composed for or circulated among female religious communities, the poem’s depiction of Jesus takes on a deeper and more intimate meaning.
The Crucifixion in The Dream of the Rood is not only about power or conquest. It is also deeply intimate and tender. The Cross suffers alongside Christ, bound to him in solidarity. The opening vision of the Cross “changing garments” from gold to gore presents a paradox that would resonate with those practiced in affective piety, particularly women trained to see in Christ’s wounds both the ugliness of sin and the beauty of divine love. The gaze of the dreamer is devotional, not triumphal. He sees and is transformed by what he sees. That participatory act of watching, mourning, and being reshaped lies at the heart of female monastic spirituality.
For a female audience, this Jesus is not merely admirable. He is desirable. Not in a romantic or erotic sense, but in the sense that he embodies what medieval religious women longed to imitate: humility, devotion, and suffering offered for the sake of others. Elaine Scarry writes that beauty often awakens in us a desire for justice or restoration. The Jesus of The Dream of the Rood, wounded, radiant, and unshakably resolute, may have served that very function. His beauty is not superficial but sacrificial, and it invites spiritual imitation. He is both distant (as Lord) and near (as sufferer), and in that paradox lies a powerful invitation to devotion.
The voice of the Cross itself may have held special resonance for women, who were often cast socially as loyal supporters, intercessors, and silent sufferers. The Cross bears Christ’s body, shares in his agony, and is ultimately glorified. The parallels to female saints, martyrs, and nuns, frequently imagined as brides of Christ or vessels of his suffering, are unmistakable. The Cross, though genderless, functions as a model for feminine piety: faithful, suffering, and fruitful through union with Christ.
This week’s lecture highlighted how imagery of being “pierced” can indicate divine femininity or feminine aspects of the divine. In this poem, the Rood is pierced alongside Christ. While Christ may embody the masculine dimension of suffering, the active, public sacrifice. the Cross, in its quiet, enduring posture, could represent the feminine. And at the end of the poem, the Rood is glorified alongside Christ. In Christian tradition, both male and female are created in the image of God. This may have offered a way for female audiences to see themselves reflected in the suffering and glory of the Cross. At the same time, the Cross also gives up its own authority and submits fully to Christ. This could reflect how medieval Christians viewed the ideal posture of women: quiet submission, relinquishing power for the sake of divine union.
Evaluated through the lens of a likely female audience, The Dream of the Rood emerges as more than a nationalistic poem of heroic sacrifice. It becomes a site of imaginative devotion, a way for readers, especially women, to gaze upon Jesus and be reshaped by what they see. The warrior imagery, while clearly present, is mediated by tenderness and vulnerability. This is a Jesus who is strong not because he dominates others but because he willingly submits to suffering for the sake of love.
This Christ-image is theologically rich, but it also reflects the cultural dynamics of gender and power in the monastic world. While women in the medieval church were denied clerical authority, they were encouraged to cultivate deep affective relationships with Christ through meditation on his Passion. The Dream of the Rood offers a clear pathway for that kind of engagement. It presents a Jesus who is both divine and embodied, powerful and pierced, exalted and near. It trains its reader, perhaps a nun in quiet prayer, to see Christ not as abstract doctrine, but as a person to be gazed upon, wept over, and loved.
Yet this depiction is not without tension. While the poem exalts Christ’s sacrifice, it offers little space for the real, lived suffering of medieval women. It idealizes submission both of Christ and of the Cross which may reinforce a spiritual framework where female suffering is seen as virtuous or redemptive. Some readers may find this empowering. Others, especially in modern contexts, may find it troubling. Additionally, the glorification of Jesus as a bold warrior must be read in light of Anglo-Norman culture, which was steeped in violence, conquest, and masculine ideals of strength.
This week’s lecture emphasized how cultural depictions of Jesus often reflect societal norms. In this poem, Jesus assumes the role of a heroic warrior, an image that aligns with a culture shaped by warfare and conquest. Perhaps this version of Jesus departs from the gentler, more compassionate figure presented in the Gospels. Meanwhile, the Cross is quiet, reverent, and submissive traits traditionally associated with women. If this poem was written for or read by women, then its symbolism functions as catechesis. It teaches that men, like Jesus, are to be strong and sacrificial, while women, like the Cross, are to follow, support, and submit quietly and faithfully.
Still, The Dream of the Rood remains a masterwork of Christian imagination. It brings together Scripture, poetic vision, local culture, and personal devotion into a single act of witness. If it was indeed read by women, as scholarship suggests, it gave them not only a vision of Christ to adore but a pattern of holiness to follow one not marked by public power, but by quiet, costly faithfulness.