By Faith Tibble
The Crown of Thorns is one of the most iconic symbols in Christian art—worn by Jesus during his Passion and seen in countless paintings and sculptures. But how much do we really know about it? From its surprising origins to its political uses in the Middle Ages, here are five things you might not know about the Crown of Thorns.
1. It’s Not a Crown Made of Thorns
Very few, when walking through the halls of our most esteemed galleries and world-class museums, could miss the religious iconography. We glide by the subtle, the charming, the heartfelt, and the ostentatious. Depictions of Jesus during his earthly life continually catch our eye. They’ve been depicted for centuries, and hardly a room of European art fails to feature Jesus prominently.
More often than not—particularly as artists dwell on those torturous final days of Jesus’ life—we find depicted the Crown of Thorns. Sharp, painful, and blood-stained, they pierce the beaten brow of Jesus. They are bestowed on him during his abusive mockery and often remain steadfastly with him until his crucifixion.
It is ubiquitous. So much so that when not included in scenes of Jesus’ Passion, the painting seems to lack something. But this image of the cruel thorns is shockingly new to Christian art. It was also never meant to be a crown made of thorns.
The Gospels, originally written in Greek, describe the ornament that the Roman soldiers bestow on Jesus not as a “crown” made of “thorns,” but rather a wreath made out of acanthus.
It is vitally important to remember that the acanthus is a leafy, relentless weed that grows throughout the Mediterranean. And it is steeped in ancient religious connotations, particularly those signifying renewal and resurrection. This, rather than the later translation of “crown of thorns,” is what adorned Jesus’ head.
Indeed, the earliest depiction we have of the Crown of Thorns reflects this. On a mid-4th century sarcophagus found in an ancient cemetery in Rome, Jesus is depicted standing with a Roman soldier. Calmly and gently, the Roman soldier lifts over Jesus’ head an unmistakable wreath, complete with small flowers.
The ancient artists crafted a story that was only just being told in their world—one where Jesus was crowned not with agonizing thorns, but with a leafy wreath.
2. It’s a Military Decoration (Originally)
The Roman soldiers of Jesus’ mockery knew what they were doing. Jesus was no ordinary criminal, and these soldiers had no intention of letting a juicy bit of irony slide through their fingertips. Jesus was a messianic leader—one of a multitude of irritating rabble-rousers that the Romans in 1st-century Judaea had just about enough of. Messianic leaders were charismatic, self-appointed generals. They preached that they were sent by their god to single-handedly wipe out the oppressors of their people and usher forth a new regime—a new life—for their nation. They would raise a fighting force and attack their foe: the Romans.
This never amused the Romans. And the messianic leaders never made it very far.
And here was yet another in their custody. This Jesus was thought to be a Messiah. He said he could bring salvation to those who believed in him. He even, so the Romans probably heard, claimed that he could summon a fighting force of 12 legions of angelic soldiers—if he felt like it (Matthew 26:53).
But his best friends betrayed and deserted him. He had not been able to lead any soldiers into battle, and therefore had no way of saving his people from death and destruction.
So, the Roman soldiers, annoyed and with time to kill, draped their victim in a purple robe, put a reed in his hand, and wove for him a triumphal wreath, mocking him for the failed general that he was.
The Roman soldiers would not have seen a “king” in Jesus. Nor would they have known much of what he preached—radical ideas of peace, forgiveness, and everlasting life. They would have seen a man like any other of the messianic leaders they had recently struck down. The near-contemporary historian Josephus relates plenty of messianic uprisings in 1st-century Judaea, and Jesus would have been no different from the perspective of the Romans.
The mockery and crowning parody a ceremony—not to crown a king—but to award a general his wreath. It was a military decoration denoting a general’s heroic deeds that saved his army—and therefore his nation—from destruction. Deeds that Jesus, in the eyes of the Romans, could not perform.
3. It Helped Justify Medieval Kingship
There was an expectation among medieval subjects that their kings be perfect imitators of Christ. A high bar—but that was part of the job description. This meant that their kings, anointed by God through popes and archbishops, should act as Christ-like as possible, guided by Jesus’ earthly example. They missed the mark fairly regularly, but this so-called Christo-Mimesis was the aim.
The Ottonian and Salian kings—ruling from the beginning of the 10th century to the start of the 12th—had an even taller order. Christo-Mimesis did not just pertain to the way in which the kings ruled, but also how they got to the throne in the first place. This journey to the highest office specifically included imitation of Jesus’ humility, trials, and hardships during his earthly ministry. For Jesus, these hardships led to his ultimate crowning and enthronement in heaven.
In the same way, a future king, to prove his aptitude and worth to rule, also had to overcome his misfortune in a Christ-like fashion: by enduring torments with patience and humility.
No matter how many chronicles of a king insist that his life was truly one long quagmire of abuse that he humbly suffered through, not everyone would be convinced—especially if you couldn’t read. This is where the art of the Ottonian and Salian eras came to the kings’ aid.
The image of the coronation of the king was depicted constantly. So much hinged on the legitimacy of these medieval kings’ right to rule, that depicting their coronation and enthronement reminded everyone of their validity. He is typically portrayed seated on a cushioned throne, surrounded by bishops and attendants with their hands upturned towards him in adoration. The king holds a sceptre in one hand and an orb in the other. He is often in the process of being crowned. But what about their humiliation? In this exalted position, how was the king Christ’s greatest imitator?
The depiction of the Crown of Thorns during this time connects the dots. With almost no artistic precedent, and after not seeing the Crown and Mockery together for nearly 700 years, Jesus is suddenly shown seated on a cushioned throne, flanked by soldiers spitting on him. Their hands upturned in (mock) adoration. One puts a reed, or faux-sceptre, in Jesus’ hand and the other bestows a crown made of thorns on his head.
Sound familiar? This image is intentionally similar to the depiction of the king’s own coronation. It serves a double purpose. It parallels the king’s necessary life of humiliation neatly with that of Jesus’ deepest earthly humiliation. Simultaneously, it makes the king’s coronation look exactly like Christ’s. Christo-Mimesis indeed.
4. Louis IX of France Gave It the Life It Has in Art Today
The first depiction we have of the Crown of Thorns is from the mid-4th century. This was a time when much of Christian art was first starting to express itself. But while many other facets of Jesus’ ministry and death took off—reinvented and developed over centuries—the Crown of Thorns was left behind. There are smatterings of the mockery and obscure depictions of the crown, but they are few, and they are not seen together again until the 11th century. Even then, when the Crown and Mockery scenes are reunited, and the Crown finally has actual thorns, it’s still not popular. It merely fulfilled a very specific purpose: to legitimise the medieval kings.
Louis IX of France changed everything. He gave the Crown of Thorns prominence and exploded its popularity. Baldwin II of Constantinople was short on cash, and Louis IX had plenty to play with. He purchased the relic of the Crown of Thorns (or what is believed to be the actual crown that adorned Jesus during his mockery) from Baldwin II in 1238.
But Louis IX did not just bring it back to Paris and hide it away. Instead, he used it to great effect. Barefoot, in rags, and deprived of his jewels, the King of France walked slowly through the streets of Paris, holding the Crown of Thorns aloft for all his subjects to see. He humbled himself before this relic, demonstrating his own humility and (yes, you guessed it) his Christo-Mimesis. The relic was temporarily deposited in Saint-Denis until its new home was constructed.
Louis IX built one of the most astounding architectural feats of the time to house his new acquisition. The Sainte-Chapelle, completed around 1248, with its soaring stained glass, seemed weightless and ethereal. The artistic program within cements Louis IX’s claim as Christ’s representative on Earth. The stained glass shows scenes of enthronements, coronations of the kings of old—particularly from the Old Testament—setting Paris up as the new Jerusalem.
The program culminates in the centre above the altar. There we see images of Jesus’ Passion, and directly above where the relic of the Crown of Thorns would have been situated is Jesus, seated, surrounded by soldiers, mocked and crowned with thorns.
Louis IX’s fantastic reliquary did the trick. The Crown of Thorns, from this moment onward, finds its place in Passion iconography and becomes inseparable from Jesus in the lead-up to his death. If it were not for Louis IX making the Crown so prominent in his own journey of kingly legitimacy, we would not see the Crown as we do today: as a centrepiece of European art.
5. It Was One of the Last Things to Be Depicted in Passion Art
The earliest Christian art of the 4th and 5th centuries has a lot going for it. The stories depicted on sarcophagi and mosaics are vivid and exceptional. The characters have movement and personality. While it is sometimes difficult for a modern audience to discern what’s happening in this early imagery, there is a glaring omission that even a novice would not fail to notice. Where’s the torment, suffering, and death? Isn’t that a huge part of Jesus’ story?
It is, yes. Jesus’ Passion—or the time leading up to his death and his subsequent resurrection—is crucial to Christians and their theology. But the earliest Christian art shies away from indicating that Jesus went through any sort of ordeal on Earth. While Christianity was still relatively nascent, everyday Christians were unsure whether they should be embarrassed by their God’s obvious suffering. Instead, the imagery largely focuses on his miracles. And it is unquestioningly triumphant.
But as Christianity becomes more mainstream, as doctrine finds stronger footing, so too did the artists. Jesus’ suffering was no longer an uncomfortable truth, but rather something to be admired and praised. And depicted.
Elements of his Passion began cropping up: the flogging he received by the Roman soldiers, his betrayal and arrest, even his death by crucifixion. Curiously, one element we do not see is the Crown of Thorns. It is not until the 11th century that a crown made of thorns is finally attempted. Why does it take nearly 700 years for the Crown of Thorns to become something recognisable to a modern audience?
The answer is complex, but it partly has to do with medieval theologians’ preference to fixate on the Mockery rather than the Crown. The Mockery took centre stage ideologically. It was an epitomic example of the patience and endurance required to defeat adversaries. The Crown, on the other hand, did not garner quite as much airtime.
It was not until later—when the Crown of Thorns became associated with the most powerful men in the medieval kingdoms—that the ornament finally had its day in the sun.
Faith Tibble is a graduate of Temple and Haifa Universities. A former Latin instructor in Philadelphia, she moved to Israel to study archaeology before gaining her PhD in Medieval Art History. Her recent book, The Crown of Thorns: Humble Gods and Humiliated Kings, was published by Bloomsbury in March 2025. You can also follow Faith on Instagram and X/Twitter.
Top Image: Christ Crowned with Thorns, by Hieronymus Bosch
Subscribe to Medievalverse
