Finding Hope in a World of Death: The Cross as the Tree of Life
- Elizabeth Zelasko
- Sep 26
- 4 min read
"For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." 1 Corinthians 1:18
Centuries of missionary work have spread the message of Jesus Christ, making the crucified Christ one of the most widely recognized symbols of faith in God. Human beings have a remarkable capacity to be moved by images. Yet, we also carry an equally remarkable tendency — likely a survival instinct passed down since our earliest ancestors — to grow so accustomed to what we see that we begin to tune it out: “Yes, that’s there. I’m here. I can move on with my day.” But it's dangerous to become overly familiar with the Cross because we risk forgetting just how unsettling and powerful it truly is.
In Pacino’s Tree of Life, we find a profound contradiction. A man who appears utterly defeated is revealed instead as a source of life. From the wood of the Cross blossom scenes from his life; they are like branches, heavy with fruit, bending under the weight of abundance. Death gives way to life, and the Cross, a gruesome death, becomes the Tree of Life itself.
Created at a time when around 15% of the population could read, this image served as a guide for the Clarissan sisters in Florence, supporting their prayer and deepening their understanding of the holy mysteries of the Rosary. Today, although the literacy rate worldwide is closer to 90%, this image can still deepen our understanding of the life of Christ and the purpose of the Cross. While it would take me way longer than 1,000 words to describe every scene rendered and its meaning, here is the general layout.
Drawing on the Book of Revelation, Christ crucified is the Tree of Life. Twelve branches are grafted into the Cross, bearing illustrated roundels depicting the joyful, sorrowful and glorious mysteries of Christ’s life. In Scripture, twelve is a number of fullness and completion: the twelve tribes of Israel, the twelve apostles chosen by Christ, the twelve baskets of bread left over after the feeding of the multitudes, and in Revelation, the Tree of Life itself bearing twelve kinds of fruit for the healing of the nations.
At the base of Pacino’s cross, the drama of Genesis plays out with Adam and Eve, while Moses, St. Francis, St. Clare and St. John the Evangelist stand nearby. Above, Christ and Mary are enthroned in the heavenly court, surrounded by angels, saints and prophets. Just below them, a pelican pierces its breast to feed its young with its own blood — a medieval emblem of Christ’s sacrificial love. Though this is a deceptively large panel, it almost reads as a miniature painting due to the incredibly small details covering the entire work. Clearly influenced by Giotto, Pacino nevertheless brings his own unmistakable gift for composition and storytelling into his artistry. Had he lived today, one might even imagine that he would have thoroughly enjoyed reading graphic novels!
So, why spend time talking about this old piece of art? Why pause and meditate with it?
I came across this piece towards the end of my meandering around the Accademia Gallery in Florence. It lives under the same roof as the David statue and works by Michelangelo — art I spent hours sitting with. I drank fully and slowly from all the beauty, and when I was full, but not yet done with the museum, this piece stopped me in my tracks. While perhaps not as objectively lovely as David, Pacino’s Tree of Life is like Scripture set before our eyes. Each branch, each figure, each detail draws us more deeply into the mysteries of salvation — from Genesis in the garden, through Christ’s Passion, to the glory of heaven. To meditate on this work is to let the truths of our faith pass not just through the ears but through the eyes and the heart. It is like swallowing the entire Bible in one gulp! A difficult task for an artist to render, indeed. I felt pierced through again by the Cross, and captivated by the story of our Savior. In a world that increasingly reveals itself as a valley of tears, to be reminded that from death comes life, from sacrifice comes abundance, and in Christ all things are fulfilled, should give us a level of deep, abiding joy.
I invite you to step into this image and see yourself within it. After resting in the truth of salvation history — and your own salvation woven into it — let this Tree of Life inspire you to look at your life in the same light.
Recently, I was listening to a Catholic podcast that encouraged me to reflect on my own personal mysteries: my joyful mysteries, the sorrowful moments of my life and the glorious ones. If created into an icon, which images from your life would be painted into roundels? Where do you see Christ bringing forth fruit from even the hardest memories?
To see our own stories through the light of the Cross paints a picture of victory rather than defeat! As St. Paul writes, "For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." (1 Corinthians 1:18). And again in 1 Corinthians 15:54, “When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: 'Death is swallowed up in victory.'”
With so much death in the news lately, praise be to God that death does not hold the final say. Praise be to God that his “power is perfected in human weakness.” That is the good news we need to keep our eyes on.
