Canon 36 has its place in a list
of 80 other disciplinary, not theological, canons. Should we, therefore,
identify the motive behind it as merely disciplinary, without any theological
base? Those of an iconophobic bent tend to see behind the canon an iconophobic theology
based on the 2nd commandment, while iconodules are inclined to restrict the
canon’s scope to the realm of discipline. Two factors nonetheless seem to tip
the scales in favor of a limited, disciplinary motive: 1) positively, the canon
is part of a series of disciplinary canons, and 2) negatively, we have no
indications that the bishops wanted to condemn all kinds of images on the basis
of the 2nd commandment or anything else. If canon 36 is, in fact, a disciplinary
canon attempting to regulate but not condemn a well-established practice, then
the Council of Elvira does not deal with the basic theological question: the
legitimacy of Christian images. Another 400 years will have to go by before
that question is clearly and directly ask and answered.
We must recognize, however, that
for whatever reasons—reasons that we will never really knew—it seemed good to a
group of bishops in Spain around the year 300 to prohibit the painting of
certain picturas on church walls. It is fairly obvious that this
decision, and the reasons that motivated it, did not affect the Spanish Christians
of subsequent history because they continued to paint images on the walls of
Spanish churches. As far as we know, there has never been an iconoclastic
controversy in the Spanish Church. Canon 36 itself had no subsequent history either,
except in the collections of the council’s canons preserved here and there. We
also know that canon 36 was completely ignored in all other Churches until the
Reformation of the 16th century. Even during the Byzantine iconoclastic crisis,
the iconoclasts did not quote it in their argumentation. It is quite possible
that they did not know about it since few iconoclasts spoke Latin or had many
contacts with the West. Due to the great geographic distance between Spain and
Byzantium as well as the language barrier, it is not surprising that the
iconoclasts never heard about canon 36 of the Council of Elvira.
On the other hand, we cannot
really say that the canon was hidden or lost. Several councils of the 4th century
adopted certain of Elvira’s canons verbatim, but not canon 36. Various canonical
collections, however, reproduced it; the iconodules did not, therefore, try to
hide it. The canon slept peacefully in these collections, having no great
importance, like many other ancient canons that have lost their importance due
to a change in the historical setting that gave them birth. It really only came
onto the stage of history at the Protestant Reformation. Even though it had
existed since the beginning of the 4th century, the canon had no historical importance
until the 16th century. Since that time, iconoclasts and iconophobes have used
it as a weapon against iconodules both Catholic and Orthodox.
The scope of canon 36 remains
very limited in time and space, and very few Protestants of an iconophobic
outlook would feel themselves bound by the decision of the synod of Elvira. If
we understand that decision as an absolute interdiction of all images on church
walls. Only the most radical reformers of the 16th century, and their
successors, would advocate a total ban.
To conclude, then, we can say that
the Council of Elvira really did forbid picturas to be painted on the
wall of some Spanish churches, but for reasons that we will probably never know.
This interdiction, however, is evidence for a tradition of wall-paintings in
Spanish churches, going back we do not know how long. The vast majority of
Christians, however, both iconoclasts and iconodules, have not given this
council, or its canon 36, very much importance of authority. Nor have these
Christians felt themselves bound to banish all picturas from the walls
of their churches. As for the attitude of Spanish Christians toward
non-idolatrous images at the beginning of the 4th century, canon 36 is so
embroiled in ambiguity that it is practically impossible to arrive at any clear
and definitive conclusions. That it is an expression of a generalized
iconophobia in the Spanish Church, a repudiation of all figurative art, and a
blueprint for an imageless Christianity seems to be a very heavy load indeed to
put on the back of such a frail, little donkey. (Steven Bigham, The Image of
God the Father in Orthodox Theology and Iconography and Other Studies [Torrance,
Calif.: Oakwood Publications, 1995], 114-17)
Further Reading:
Answering
Fundamentalist Protestants and Roman Catholic/Eastern Orthodox on Images/Icons
