The Catholic Church holds that Christ died on a cross with a
crossbeam, as Christians have held from the beginning. The
Watchtower’s case for the
torture stake
rests almost entirely on the root meaning of one Greek word. But
words are not defined by their roots, and on this question we are
not left with words alone: there is evidence in the ground, in the
oldest manuscripts, and in a hostile pagan cartoon.
The Word Is Not the Argument
In classical Greek, centuries before Christ, stauros did mean an upright stake, a palisade post. That is its root. But meaning is fixed by use, not by etymology, and by the first century the word had long since become the ordinary term for the Roman execution instrument, whatever its shape. The same is true of the Latin crux. To argue from the older sense to the first-century object is the error of supposing that because “pen” once meant a feather, a modern writer must be holding a quill.1
The authorities cited for the stake do not carry the weight placed on them either. They are nineteenth-century works (Parsons’ The Non-Christian Cross of 1896 among them) written before the archaeological and papyrological evidence of the last century existed. No standard modern lexicon of New Testament Greek supports the claim that stauros in the Gospels means a bare pole.
The Sources Cited Say the Opposite
More awkwardly, the ancient authorities marshalled for the stake do not say what they are said to say. Livy is cited for crux meaning a bare stake, but Livy never describes its shape, and uses palus when he means a stake. Lucian’s Prometheus is quoted in support, yet that passage has the hands stretched out “from crag to crag,” each fastened separately, and Lucian elsewhere says the cross takes its name from the letter tau, which is T-shaped. Artemidorus compares the stauros to a ship’s mast, which has a crossyard.2
The pattern extends to pictures. For decades the New World Translation’s appendix reproduced a woodcut of a single-stake execution from Justus Lipsius, captioned “This is the manner in which Jesus was impaled.” Lipsius’s book in fact illustrates some sixteen forms of crucifixion, most with a crossbeam: the one image was lifted from a gallery that teaches the opposite, and the caption was altered in the 1984 edition.
What the Gospels Themselves Show
The evangelists do not pause to describe the shape, because their first readers knew what a Roman execution looked like. But three details, taken together, point one way.
The carrying. John says Christ went out “bearing his own cross” (John 19:17), and the Synoptics say Simon of Cyrene was made to carry it behind Him (Luke 23:26). The condemned man did not carry an entire cross; he carried the patibulum, the crossbeam, to a site where the uprights already stood. That is what every attested Roman crucifixion involved, and the verb John uses is the one pagan writers use for exactly that act.3
The inscription. Matthew records that Pilate’s charge was set “over his head” (Matt. 27:37). On a bare stake, with the hands nailed together above the head, there is no space above the head for a placard. The wording assumes an upright projecting above a crossbar.
The nails. Thomas speaks of seeing in Christ’s hands “the print of the nails,” plural (John 20:25). Watchtower illustrations show both hands pinned by a single nail above the head. Two outstretched hands, each nailed separately, account for the wording exactly; and the Society has itself conceded that Thomas could have meant a nail through each hand.4
The Evidence Outside the Text
In the ground. In 1968, in a burial cave at Giv’at ha-Mivtar in Jerusalem, archaeologists found the physical remains of a crucifixion victim, a man named Yehohanan, executed around A.D. 70. The examining anatomist found the heel bones transfixed by a spike and reconstructed the arms as stretched out and separately nailed; the later reassessment of the same remains withdrew the nail finding for the arms and judged them more likely tied — outstretched on either reading. It is the most direct evidence available of how Rome crucified in the Gospel period, and it shows outstretched arms rather than hands pinned overhead.5
In the manuscripts. In the oldest surviving copies of the Gospels, papyri of roughly A.D. 175–250, the scribes abbreviated stauros with a device now called the staurogram: the Greek letters tau and rho superimposed, the tau forming upright and crossbar, the loop of the rho suggesting the head of the crucified. These men lived while crucifixion was still practiced and knew what the word meant. Their own shorthand for it was a picture of a cross.6
In a hostile cartoon. The oldest surviving depiction of the crucifixion is the Alexamenos graffito, scratched into a wall on the Palatine Hill around the turn of the third century. It is not a Christian image but a pagan mockery: a crucified figure with a donkey’s head, arms spread wide on a crossbeam, captioned “Alexamenos worships God.” A hostile witness, drawing in order to ridicule, drew a cross. The shape was simply what everyone understood crucifixion to be.7
The Earliest Christians
The deeper claim is that the cross entered Christianity later, as part of an apostasy. But the earliest Christian writers, long before Constantine, already describe the stauros as two-beamed, and describe it as something received rather than newly proposed.
The Epistle of Barnabas, from the A.D. 130s, within about forty years of John’s Gospel, already treats the cross as tau-shaped. Justin Martyr, around 150, describes it plainly as one upright with a second beam fitted across it, the ends projecting “like horns.” Irenaeus, about 180, is more precise still: the cross “has five extremities, two in length, two in breadth, and one in the middle, on which the person rests who is fixed by the nails.” Five points (upright, crossbar, and a projecting top) describe the traditional cross exactly, and a bare stake not at all.8
The Watchtower Once Taught the Cross
For more than fifty years the organization used the cross-and-crown emblem and taught that Christ died on a cross; Rutherford in 1921 called it “the greatest pivotal truth of the divine arrangement.” The torture-stake teaching came later, and it came from a prior conviction that the cross was pagan rather than from any new evidence about the first century; there was none to be had, since the archaeology and the papyri lay decades in the future. The movement’s own principle was that new light never extinguishes older light but adds to it. An outright reversal is not addition, and it raises a fair question about how a reader is to know that today’s teaching will not be reversed in turn.9
The Reply in Brief
The stake rests on an etymology and on nineteenth-century authorities written before the evidence existed. Against it stand the Gospels’ own details: a crossbeam carried, an inscription above the head, nails in the plural in the hands; a first-century crucifixion victim recovered from the ground with his arms stretched out; the shorthand the earliest scribes invented for the word, which is a picture of a cross; a pagan mocking a Christian by drawing one; and the Fathers of the second century describing five extremities and beams fitted crosswise.
None of this is a Catholic tradition asserted against the evidence. It is the evidence, and it converges from directions that could not have been coordinated: Jewish archaeology, Christian scribes, and a hostile Roman graffito all describing the same shape.
This is the short answer. The full treatment adds the semantic history of stauros and crux with the primary sources, what Roman writers say about the mechanics of crucifixion, the argument from Deuteronomy 21:23 and “hanged upon a tree,” and full documentation for everything asserted here. It is available as a Word document at the end of this page.
Endnotes
- On the semantic development of stauros, see the standard lexica (Bauer–Danker–Arndt–Gingrich; Liddell–Scott), which give “cross” as the New Testament sense while noting the earlier sense of upright stake. The Watchtower’s cited authorities (John Denham Parsons, The Non-Christian Cross (1896); the Imperial Bible-Dictionary; Hermann Fulda) all predate the twentieth-century evidence. ↩
- Livy uses palus where a stake is meant and nowhere describes the shape of the crux. Lucian, Prometheus 1–2, has the hands fastened separately from crag to crag; and in Trial in the Court of Vowels 12 he derives the instrument’s name from the letter tau. Artemidorus, Oneirocritica 2.53, likens the stauros to a ship’s mast, which carries a crossyard. ↩
- John 19:17; Luke 23:26; Matthew 27:32; Mark 15:21. On the patibulum as the beam carried by the condemned, see Plautus, Miles Gloriosus 359–360, and the discussion in Martin Hengel, Crucifixion in the Ancient World. ↩
- Matthew 27:37 for the placement of the titulus; John 20:25 for the plural “nails.” The concession is the Society’s own: “That could have meant a nail through each hand, or the plural ‘nails’ might have reference to nail prints in ‘his hands and his feet’” (The Watchtower, August 15, 1987, “Where Were His Legs?”, pp. 28–29). ↩
- The Giv’at ha-Mivtar ossuary of Yehohanan, excavated 1968; see V. Tzaferis, “Jewish Tombs at and near Giv’at ha-Mivtar,” Israel Exploration Journal 20 (1970), with N. Haas’s anatomical study in the same volume, and the reassessment by J. Zias and E. Sekeles, IEJ 35 (1985). ↩
- The staurogram appears in P66, P45 and P75, of roughly A.D. 175–250. See Larry W. Hurtado, The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), ch. 4. ↩
- The Alexamenos graffito, Palatine Hill, Rome, usually dated c. A.D. 200, now in the Palatine Antiquarium. ↩
- Epistle of Barnabas 9 and 12 (A.D. 130s), on the tau; Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho 40 and 91, and First Apology 55 (c. 150), on the transverse beam and the projecting ends; Irenaeus, Against Heresies 2.24.4 (c. 180), on the five extremities. Texts in William A. Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. 1. ↩
- On the cross-and-crown emblem, which appeared on the cover of The Watch Tower until 1931, and on the introduction of the torture-stake teaching under J. F. Rutherford. The principle that new light adds to older light rather than extinguishing it is the Society’s own. ↩