The first cleary identifiable examples of Christian pictorial art date from the beginning of the 3rd century. Although rare exceptions have sometimes been dated to the second century, the lack of earlier evidence has led art historians to conclude either that earlier artifacts with discernable Christian iconography have been lost or–more likely–simply were not produced. Because the latter conclusion has warranted some explanation, generations of historians have theorized about why this should be the case, especially in light of the large number of pained and sculpted images that adored 4th- and 5th-century church walls, liturgical vessels, vestments, reliquaries, coffins for burial, and items used for private devotion. Among the most common proposals is that 1st- and 2nd-century Christians were adamantly opposed to all pictorial art on the basis of biblical injunctions against graven images or that they regarded material possessions as being of little value while they awaited the expected imminent return of Christ. (Robert M. Jensen, “Figural Images in Christian Thought and Practice before ca. 500,” in A Companion to Byzantine Iconoclasm, ed. Mike Humphreys [Brill’s Companion to the Christian Tradition 99; Leiden: Brill, 2022], 109)
At the beginning of the 4th century (ca. 305) a church council held in Elvira, Spain, produced a number of canons, one in particular that seems to have targeted the existence and role of saints’ portraits. The intention, precise date, and correct translation of this canon are disputed, but it appears to have focused on the inappropriate veneration of images and not on the mages themselves. The Latin reads: Placuit pictures in ecclesia esse non debere, ne quod colitur et adoratur in parietibus depingatur, which is most correctly translated as “There shall be np pictures in churches, lest what is reverenced and adored be depicted on the walls.” Because it is doubtful that narrative images would have comprised images that were either too sacred to be depicted or attracted veneration, it seems most likely that the images in question were frontal portraits of saints or of Christ that might become the objects of homage or prayer. Yet because the precise meaning of “picturas” is ambiguous, it is possible that the canon may have prohibited any kind of figurative art on church walls. (Ibid., 134-36)
[The 7th century theologian] Leonitos of Neapolis (and maybe Stephen of Bostra) [distinguished] λατρεια to God and using προσκυνησις more generally, though perhaps this should be better put in terms of a distinction in the meaning and purpose of προσκυνησις, understood as the act of bowing down, prostration, an element of Byzantine court ritual, readily incorporated in the ritual of the Byzantine Church (along with much else), the distinction being between προσκυνησις expressing λατρεια due only to God, and προσκυνησις expressing τιμη, respect and honour–which would be paid to our fellow human beings, saints, and to saints through their icons. (Andrew Louth, “The Theological Arguments About Images in the 8th Century,” in A Companion to Byzantine Iconoclasm, ed. Mike Humphreys [Brill’s Companion to the Christian Tradition 99; Leiden: Brill, 2022], 404)
Theodore the Stoudite
The iconoclast asks how the two natures of Christ are retained in the icon, if Christ and his image are of different natures. Theodore replies that the case of the icon is different from the union of the two natures in Christ. They cannot be categorized in the same way, for not even the human nature is present in the icon, let alone the divine nature, but only their relationship (προς τι). Divinity cannot be present in the icon through a union of natures, but by a relative participation (σχετικη μεταληψις). He reaffirms this by saying the image of Christ is called “Christ” because of the meaning of th name, not because it has the nature of divinity and humanity. When Christ is said to be man and God it is said synonymously, but when it is said of his image it is said homonymously. It is neither the uncircumscribable divinity nor the circumscribable humanity that is seen in Christ’s icon, but the hypostasis of the Son of God who took flesh. Theodore underscores the distinction between hypostasis and nature by stating that every icon is a portrait of a hypostasis, not of a nature. Although Christ assumed human nature in general, he assumed it as seen in an individual and therefore he must have been circumscribed. He was hypostatically distinct from other individuals, otherwise he would not have been seen or recognized. (Ken Parry, “The Theological Argument about Images in the 9th Century,” in A Companion to Byzantine Iconoclasm, ed. Mike Humphreys [Brill’s Companion to the Christian Tradition 99; Leiden: Brill, 2022], 429)
Venerating the Icon
In seeking to define veneration Theodore distinguishes between different types. He begins with worship or adoration (λατρεια) which is given to God alone, followed by veneration (προσκυνησις) given to rulers, as well as children to parents. We may give honour required by the law (νομος), or out of fear (φοβος) or from desire (ποθος), and although veneration appears to take the form (ισοτυπος), it differs in intention (διανοησις). The outward gesture may look the same, but the inward intention is different. It is important to know this as well as the diversity of veneration (διαφορα προσκυνσεως), so that when we venerate the prototype through the image, we give the appropriate adoration due to God alone. There are suitable kinds of veneration given to others who are depicted in icons, such as the Mother of God and the saints. The icon of Christ receives the honour of relative veneration (σκετικη προσκυνησις), while the Theotokos and the saints receive the veneration due to them, according to the differing veneration. Theodore operates with this distinction but does not propose a special veneration due to the Mother of God, as happened in the Latin tradition with hyperdulia. When it comes to venerating icons, it is not so much a matter of degree as of kind; iconophiles insist that λατρεια differs from προσκυνησις. . . . Theodore has stated that the veneration is not divided between the prototype and its image, and that Christ himself receives the absolute worship of adoration (λατευτη προσκυνησις), whereas his icon recipes the relative veneration of honour. (Ibid., 438-39)
Patriarch Nikephoros, Three Refutations against Constantine V
Nikephoros distinguishes different types of veneration (προσκυνησις) using similar terms to Theodore, which suggests a well-established taxonomy. There is veneration which is due to God considered as worship or adoration (λατρεια), followed by four types of veneration or honor (τιμητικη). 1) There is honor which is given by law (νομος) to those in a higher position to us, such as emperors and other rulers. (2) There is honor which we are compelled to give in fear (φοβος) of a tyrant. 3) There is honor which we give by desire (ποθος) and faith in the saints and through them To God. It is this honor which is given to the angels, holy persons, churches, and sacred vessels. 4) There is honor which is relative (σχετικη) and given in greeting and which we give to others out of friendship and love. In addition, fear and desire are characteristics of that divine worship which is reserved for God alone. When it comes to icons, they are worthy of veneration because they perpetuate the memory of those they represent, and the veneration given to them is that of honor, not of worship. Accordingly, the honor passes to the prototype, so that in not accepting that icons participate in their prototypes by means of the honor they receive, the iconoclasts destroy all notion of worship and veneration. (Ibid., 451)
