The following notes come from:
Leslie Brubaker and John Haldon, Byzantine and the Iconoclast
Era c. 680-850 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011)
A number of sources maintain that the iconoclasts were opposed to the
cult of relics. Theophanes, for example, claims of Leo III that: ‘Not only was
the impious man in error concerning the relative worship of the holy icons, but
also concerning the intercession of the all-pure Theotokos and all the saints, and
he abominated their relics like his mentors, the Arabs’. [The Chronicle of
Theophanes Confessor, trans. C. Mango and R. Scott [Oxford, 1997], 561] (p.
39)
. . . the discussion about the devotion to be accorded sacred images was
a crucial element of early iconoclast discussion . . .there is no reason to
doubt that the fourth-century Epiphanios of Salamis was an opponent of
religious imagery, precisely because of the perceived danger of contamination by
example from pagan traditions, with which the church was still grappling. (p.
47)
Before c. 700, references to sacred portraits are not very
common, and when they appear they are usually incidental to the main narrative.
Evidence is ‘scattered and spotty’ before the mid-sixth century; we shall
therefore only briefly rehearse the evidence for that period.
Texts written before the mid-sixth century mention images, and sometimes
even sacred portraits, that are no longer preserved, and, if Gregory of Nyssa’s
mid-fourth-century claim that a narrative image drove him to tears may be
extended to portraits, suggest that people could respond to them with emotion (Gregory
wrote that he could not walk by an image of the sacrifice of Isaac ‘without
shedding tears, so clearly did art present the story to one’s eyes;’ PG 46:472)
No miracles, however, are ascribed to sacred portraits in any texts of this
period: the passage from Gregory of Nazianzos that has sometimes been said to
describe an icon precipitating the repentance of a whore depends not on Gregory
but in an iconophile reworking of the words. The only uncontested passage that mentions
‘adoring’ images—Augustine’s early fifth-century remark ‘sepulcrorum et
pictuarum adoratores’ (PL 32:1342)—is unspecific about both the form
of worship and the type of image; interestingly, however, it links images with
tombs and may thus intimate a connection between the sacred portrait and the
cult of relics, at least in the west. Holy portraits were certainly honoured,
and may even have been venerated in isolated instances but this does not seem
to have been a characteristic of the period. Around the year 300, for example,
Eusebios observed that the statue of Christ and the woman with the issue of
blood at Paneas was erected ‘to honour them’; (History of the Church VII,
18; ed. Loeb II [London, 1932], 174-7) and Philostorgios, writing in the first half
of the fifth century adds no more: the statue is respected, but not the object
of any special veneration. There is little evidence for the growth of a cult,
the idea of a ‘transparent’ religious image remains foreign. The famous statement
that underpins this concept—‘the honour shown to the image is transmitted to
its prototype’—dates from this period: it is written by Basil of Caesarea in the
mid-fourth-century. (PG 32:149) But Basil was writing about imperial images,
not portraits of holy men and women; it is the later iconophiles—John of
Damascus in the id-eighth century, (Against those who attack divine images,
I, 21, 51) quickly followed by the authors of the Acts of the 787 council (Mansi
xiii, 325)—who, on rediscovering the concept, make it central to the orthodox
understanding of the holy portrait. Only in the third quarter of the sixth
century, and then in isolation, is anything approaching the idea that a sacred
portrait might be a conduit to the person represented in a preserved Greek source:
that is in an epigram of an image of the archangel Michael attributed to Agathias
(c. 531-c. 580) which has its own particular problems . . .(pp. 53-54)
An epigram preserved in the Greek Anthology, where it is
attributed to Agathias (c. 531-c. 580), reads:
Greatly daring was the wax that formed the image of the invisible Prince
of the Angles, incorporeal in the essence of his form. But yet it is not
without grace; for a man looking at the image directs his mind to a higher
contemplation. No longer has he a confused veneration, but imprinting the image
in himself he fears as if he were present. The eyes stir up the depths of the
spirit, and art (techne) can convey by colours the prayers of the soul.
(Greek Anthology I, 34)
All other epigrams about images attributed to Agathias in the Anthology
are either purely descriptive or concern ex voto imagery, but the
passage on Michael clearly recognises the portrait’s potential for conveying
prayer to heaven and seems to hint that it simulated Michael’s real presence. (Greek
Anthology I, 35-89) Yet angels were believed by the Byzantines to be ‘formless,
bodiless and immaterial’, and thus presented particular problems of representation,
well elucidated by Peers in a recent study (G. Peers, Subtle Bodies, representing
angels in Byzantium): a picture could never represent Michael ‘as if he
were present’ because angels were incorporeal. What Agathias seems to mean here
is not that the image simulates real presence in the way that later images of
saints could, but that the encaustic painting of the archangel Michael allowed
the viewer to move from ’confused veneration’ of an immaterial being to an emotional
response made possible by the bestowal of human form on the angel (‘imprinting
the image in himself’). Through art and colours—that is, through the presentation
of Michael in the guise of a man—the archangel is made sufficiently familiar to
the viewed that prayers to ‘him’ become possible. Angels present an exceptional
situation, and while Agathias’s response to the portrait of Michael is extremely
interesting (if personal and idiosyncratic) we cannot generalise about the absorption
of real presence into an image on the basis of this text. (p. 776)
Concerning Leo IIII:
The conclusions that may be drawn from the reliable evidence examined so
far can be summarised as follows:
(i) in the year 726 the emperor Leo III is reported to have interpreted
the violent earthquake and volcano on the Aegean islands of Therea and Therasia
as a demonstration of divine wrath consequent upon the spread of idolatrous
practices in the Roman world. As a result, he began to consider the issue of
the public display of images of Christ, the Theotokos and the saints, and the proskynesis
by which they had by now come to be honored; and may have begun to speak
publicly on the issue. There seems little reason to doubt the authentic basis
of these reports, however much they may have been distorted, emended or
supplemented to fit in with later iconophile propaganda and perceptions. From
the Horos of the Council of 754 it is clear that the major sin of which
the Romans were held to be guilty, and for which they had been published, was
that of idolatry. It is equally apparent that the interpretation of the eruption
as a sign of God’s wrath can only have been based upon Leo’s understanding of
the Old Testament account in which the Chosen People are published by God for their
lapse into idolatry—Leo’s clear evocation in the introduction to the Ekloge of
741 of the Old Testament as a source and model for his divinely invested imperial
authority is justification enough for this assumption.
(ii) at about the same time the patriarch Germanos received reports that
the bishop of Nakoleia had been commenting critically on images and proskynesis;
he received an account of the bishop’s arguments, and also an account of the
affair asking for guidance from the metropolitan bishop responsible, John of
Synnada; the bishop of Nakoleia then came to Constantinople in person to present
his side of the story. A discussion ensued in which the bishop accepted both
the patriarch’s reprimand and theological argument. Germanos wrote to Constantine’s
metropolitan, John of Synnada, explaining the situation and setting out his own
arguments. Germanos stressed that the matter should be handled unobtrusively
and that no local synod need be convoked. A copy of this letter was sent also
to the bishop of Nakoleia. Upon returning to his own see, however, he refused
to hand over this copy of the letter to John (or concede the arguments made by
Germanos), so that Germanos wrote a second letter, this time sternly reprimanding
Constantine and demanding that he accept church discipline. He was deposed from
his position until he was prepared to obey his superiors. The only reference to
the role of emperors lay in Germanos’ remark that they had themselves erected
an image of the cross with prophets and saints.
(iii) in 730 Leo probably required leading clergy, in particular the
patriarch Germanos and the pope, Gregory II, to subscribe in writing to his new
policy (perhaps to remove images from positions in which they might receive the
wrong sort of devotion). While the reports in Theophanes and Nikephoros
regarding Germanos, and in the Liber Pontificalis about the iussiones
sent to Gregory II, are problematic, there can be little doubt that they reflect
a tradition that Leo III did take some action in respect of the way in which
images were to be treated, and that this action affected in the ecclesiastical hierarchy.
(iv) by 731 pope Gregory III was (probably, not certainly) preparing to
convoke a synod at Rome, in which some discussion about (imperial) policy
towards images at Constantinople may have taken place.
(v) some time after his abdication, resulting from a conflict with Leo
III (probably over the issue of icons, but only according to later tradition:
no contemporary source asserts this), and fomo a private residence, Germanos
wrote a letter to his erstwhile friend Thomas, bishop of Klaudioupolis,
accusing him of betraying Germanos and of removing icons in his see. The letter
makes it clear that, by the time it was written, this movement had attained considerable
proportions throughout the empire, and that Germanos had been unable to offer
any effective or successful resistance to it. (pp. 121-23)
The Council of 754:
The synod held in 754 regarded itself as of ecumenical standing, and may
have been accepted by such by the eastern patriarchates. The evidence is
ambiguous. It is not clear whether representatives from the three patriarchates
of Jerusalem, Antioch, and Alexandria were present or not, although those from
Rome do appear to have been absent, thus permitting the Council of 787 to claim
that the 754 meeting was unlawful and without authority. In contrast, however, several
western bishops attended—those of Sicily, Dalmatia, and Hellas are mentioned specifically
in the much later chronicle of Michael the Syrian, but his source tradition, complex
though it is, derived from a number of sources which were themselves closer to
the events in question. (Mich. Syr., ii, 520) But neither is there any evidence
that its status was challenged from Rome until much later. The position adopted
by the imperial church was summed up in its Horos, or definition, which
can be reconstructed from the writings of those who later condemned, both in
the Acts of the seventh council of 787, and in other writings, for example,
those of the patriarch Nikephoros I. (See Krannich et al. [Die
ikonoklastische Synode von Hiereia 754] 2000) (pp. 189-90)
Since its significance for the iconoclast position is crucial, we
reproduce here certain key extracts from the text, which were read out in sections
at the Council of 787, but without the refutation that originally followed each
section. (The translation is based on Mango 1986 [The sources of social
power, vol. 1: a history of power from the beginnings to A.D. 1760],
165-8, with notes):
[Mansi, xiii, 240C] After examining these matters with much care and
deliberation . . . we have found that the illicit craft of the painter was
injurious to the crucial doctrine of our salvation, i.e., the incarnation of
Christ, and that it subverted the six ecumenical councils that had been
convened by God, . . .
[241E] . . . while upholding Nestorius who divided into two sons the one
Son and Logos of God who became man for our sake;
[244D] yea, and Arius too, and Dioscorus and Eutyches and Severus who
taught the confusion and mixture of Christ’s two natures.
[245D] Wherefore we have considered it proper to demonstrate in detail
by the present Definition the error of those who make and reverence [images]. .
. .
[248E] How senseless is the notion of the painter from sordid love of
gain pursues the unattainable, namely to fashion with his impure hands things
that are delivered by the heart and confessed by the mouth!
[252A-B] (For) This man makes an image and calls it Christ: now the name
‘Christ’ means both God and man. Hence he has either included according to his
vain fancy the uncircumscribable Godhead in the circumscription of created
flesh, or he has confused that unconfusable union . . . and in so doing has
applied two blasphemies to the Godhead, namely through the circumscription and
the confusion. Both deserve the same condemnation in that they have erred
together with Arius, Dioscorus, Eutyches and the heresy of the Acephali.
[256A-B] When they are condemned by the right-minded for having
attempted to delineate the incomprehensible and uncircumscribable divine nature
of Christ, they resort forsooth to another base excuse, namely that ‘We paint
the images of the flesh alone, which we have seen and touched and with which we
have lived;’ which is an impiety and in an invention of the evil genius of
Nestorius . . .
[257E] Granted, therefore, that at the Passion the Godhead remained
inseparable from [Christ’s body and soul] how is it that these senseless men .
. . divide the flesh that had been fused with the Godhead and [itself] deified,
and attempt to pain a picture as if it were that of a mere man? In so doing,
they fall into another abyss of lawlessness, namely by severing the flesh from
the divinity, and by attributing to the flesh a separate hypostasis and a
different person which they claim to represent, for thereby they add a fourth
person to the Trinity. . . .
[264C] The only true image of Christ is the bread and wine of the
eucharist, as he Himself incidded.
[268B-C] On the other hand, the images of false and evil name have no foundation
in the tradition of Christ, the apostles and the Fathers, nor is there a holy
prayer that might sanctify an image, and so transform it from the common to a
state of holiness; nay, it remains common and devoid of honour, just as the
painter has made it.
[277C-E] How indeed do they dare depict through the gross art of the pagans
the all-praised Mother of God who was overshadowed by the plenitude of
divinity, through whom an unapproachable light did shine for us, who is higher
than the heavens and holier than the cherubims? Or [the saints] who will reign
with Christ, and side beside Him to judge the word, and share in His glory (of
whom Scripture says that the world was not worthy of them)-are they not ashamed
to depict them through pagan art? For it is not lawful to Christians who
believe in the resurrection to adopt the customs of demon-worshipping gentiles,
and to insult by means of inglorious and dead matter the saints who will be
adorned with so much glory. Indeed, we do not accept from aliens the proof of
our faith: yea, when the demons addressed Jesus as God, he rebuked them,
because He deemed it unworthy that demons should bear testimony concerning him.
[328-C] Let no man dare to pursue henceforth this impious and unholy
practice. Anyone who presumes from now on to manufacture an icon, or to worship
it, or to set it up in a church, or in a private house, or to hide it, if he be
a bishop or a presbyter or a deacon, he shall be deposed; if he be a monk or a
layman, he shall be anathematised and deemed guilty under imperial law as a foe
of God’s commands and an enemy of the doctrines of the Fathers.
[329D-E] This we also decree, that no man who has charge of a church of
God or a pious establishment shall, on pretext of diminishing this error of icon
[-worship], lay his hands on holy vessels consecrated to God for the purpose of
altering them if they happen to have pictures on them.
[332B-E] or on altar-cloths or other veils or any other objects consecrated
to the holy ministry lest these be put to waste. If, however, a man receives
from God such ability, and wishes to alter the aforesaid vessels or
alter-cloths, he shall not presume to do so without the consent and knowledge
of the most-holy and blessed ecumenical patriarch and permission of our most
pious and Christ-loving emperors, lest under this pretext the devil dishonour
God’s churches nor shall any dignitary or any of his subordinates, i.e. a
member of the laity under the same pretext lay his hands on the holy churches
and sack them, as he has been done in the past by certain individual acting in
a disorderly manner. (pp. 194-96)
Further Reading:
Answering
Fundamentalist Protestants and Roman Catholic/Eastern Orthodox on Images/Icons
