In the last chapter of Scripture, the Book of Revelation speaks of the Tree of Life. This closes a circle that began in Eden and is a recurring theme throughout the arc of Scripture. In Revelation, the tree that once stood in the heart of the garden now stands in the heart of heaven, its leaves “for the healing of the nations†(Rev. 22:2). At St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, this image now lives in our nave—in the form of our newly installed Rood.
Rood is the old English word for cross. This form of cross is rich, both theologically and liturgically. This Rood offers us a chance to reflect on the entirety of Scripture, pointing both to God’s redemptive work on the cross and to a recurring image throughout Scripture: the Tree of Life.
The Tree of Life
The Tree of Life first appears in Genesis 2. It is planted by God in the middle of Eden alongside the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam and Eve were invited to eat from every tree—even the Tree of Life—except for the one that would lead them to the upward fall. After Adam and Eve turned away from God and ate the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they were exiled from the garden. God set cherubim and a flaming sword to guard the path to the Tree of Life, sealing it off from sinful humanity until, in the fullness of time, God would make a way back.
Ezekiel’s Vision
The first glimmer of God’s way back comes in the prophet Ezekiel’s vision. At the end of his wild, apocalyptic prophecies, Ezekiel sees a river flowing from the temple. This river—the water of life—runs all the way to the Dead Sea and, in a reprise of Genesis 1, transforms it, making salt water fresh and dead water teem with life. Trees grow along the riverbanks, their fruit abundant, and their leaves given for healing (Ezek. 47).
This is the river that flows again in Revelation. But before we arrive there, we must pass by another tree, another river, and another wound.
At the Foot of the Cross
Stretching out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross, Jesus gives himself to his most beloved disciples and, by extension, to the world. He also gives his disciples to one another to love and care for.
Traditionally, the Rood uses the form of the Stabat Mater, which shows this vignette from the 19th chapter of the Gospel of John. Jesus hangs on the cross, with his mother and his beloved disciple standing nearby. From the cross, Jesus gives them to one another: “Woman, behold your son. …  Behold your mother.†This moment marks the creation of a new and salvific kind of family—the church, born through the self-giving love of Christ. As we pray in our morning Prayer for Mission: “Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace†(BCP, 101).
So it is apt that in many churches in the Western tradition, the Rood either perches above a Rood Screen that separates the nave from the chancel or hangs above the altar rail. Here is where Christ comes forth from the Godhead in self-giving love for the world, and where we are given to one another, as Jesus gave Mary and John to each other. Here, as we receive Christ’s Body and Blood week after week, the church is born and reborn.
If you look closely at St. Paul’s Rood, you’ll notice the wound in Jesus’ side where he was pierced by the spear. Our carver, John Spraker, shaped it carefully with the wood grain so that it rhymes with the petals of the fleur-de-lis at the ends of the cross. The organic forms of the fleur-de-lis evoke the lily that is present in many artistic renditions of the angel Gabriel’s appearance to Mary at the Annunciation, and suggest broad, opening leaves. The fleur-de-lis echo the healing leaves of the Tree of Life in Ezekiel and Revelation—and they draw our attention to the wound in Christ’s side, the source from which the water and blood flowed.
The River of Life
When the soldier pierced Jesus’ side (John 19:34), “immediately blood and water came out.†The church has long seen this as both a symbol of the sacraments—Baptism and Eucharist—and the river of life. Just as the river in Ezekiel flows from the temple, this river flows from Christ, who is the true temple.
In Revelation 22, John is taken in vision to the heavenly city. There, the river of the water of life flows from the throne of God and the Lamb, and on both sides of the river stands the Tree of Life. Its fruit is abundant and in season, and its leaves are for the healing of the nations. The wounds of war, hatred, injustice, and fear are not healed through military might, but rather through the surpassing power of God’s mercy and grace. This broken world is to be healed by the leaves of the Tree of Life that is watered by the river of life flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb.
A Cross That Heals
The Rood in our nave is not just decoration. It proclaims the Greatest News of all. The Rood stands not only as a sign of suffering but of redemption. It is not a tree of death, but the Tree of Life.
As God reopens the long-blocked way to the Tree of Life, the old creation is not destroyed. It is not abolished. Rather, it is fulfilled. Through God’s mercy and grace, creation is not thrown away and replaced. Rather, God’s original intention is perfected and creation is made new from top to bottom.
And this is the good news for you and for me: even as the world is made new, we will never be thrown away. God’s plan has always been that we would never be cast aside, but rather made new through his mercy and grace. God invites you, when you are ready—come to the waters—the river of the water of life. Come be fed by the fruits and healed by the leaves of the Tree of Life. The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.†And let the one who hears say, “Come.†And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price (Rev. 22:17).

In 2019, after a tragic death in the parish, St. Paul’s began commissioning a hanging cross. We did not know the tradition of the Rood at that time and learned much through a patient process of research and prayer. Our parishioners engaged with this conversation over several years through rector’s forums and written materials.
We were profoundly blessed to work with liturgical artist Davis d’Ambly, whose vision for our Rood incorporates elements from our historic chapel, fits seamlessly in our existing Neo-Gothic nave, and offers a deeply beautiful focal point for our devotion. John Spraker prayerfully carved the figures, which each stand about three feet tall, and all the decorative elements.
Our Rood is carved from walnut and incorporates local wood and symbols from our historic chapel: Alpha and Omega on the front and “Holy * Holy * Holy†on the back, so during the Sanctus our choir and altar party can raise our eyes to the cross and join our voices with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. We installed the Rood in fall 2024. We have learned through this time how vital were the prayers that undergirded the conception and creation of the Rood, and how much those accumulated prayers infuse our nave as we worship and pray in the space.
The Rev. Kristine Blaess, DMin, is rector at St. Paul’s Church, Murfreesboro, Tennessee. She spent her first decade of ordained ministry in rural Idaho serving congregations in majority LDS communities. Her doctoral work emerged from her desire to help congregations flourish as their leaders grow ever deeper as disciples and disciplers of Jesus Christ.





