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Category: Icons (Page 9 of 12)

Christian Images Before Constantine

 

Book ReviewEarly Christian Attitudes toward Images by Steven Bigham (3 of 4)

attitudes_images

 

This blog posting is a continuation of my earlier reviews of Father Steven Bigham’s book.  Chapter 1 & Chapter 2.

In this posting I will be reviewing and interacting with Chapter 3: “The Early Christians and Images.”

New Testament Evidence

Bigham notes that the New Testament is totally silent with respect to Christian or non-idolatrous images (p. 81).  This silence can be understood in a number of ways.  One is to view it as indicative of early Christian iconophobia.  Another is that there were many things done and said by the Apostles that did not get entered into the written testimony of the New Testament (see John 20:30).  All this is to say that we should not be surprised about the limited and partial picture of the life of the first Christians as we have it in the New Testament.  The apostolic preaching, even though only partially contained in the New Testament, is nonetheless fully expressed in its essence.

Father Bigham notes that while the New Testament is silent with respect the use of non-idolatrous images, it is risky to argue from silence.  He writes:

We are not claiming that the apostolic Christians did in fact make or order images of Christ, Mary or anyone else or that they produced any symbolic designs.  We simply want to state that the silence of the New Testament on this question does not exclude the possibility of some kind of artistic activity (p. 82).

This leads him to note:

It is quite probable that the vast majority of 1st century Christians never thought about a Christian art.  They did not have the time or money to make or order images, even if they wanted to.  It is sufficient for our purposes that they did not show themselves hostile to a non-idolatrous art, and in fact, there is no evidence to indicate that they were hostile to such imagery (p. 83).

I would add another possible reason for the apparent silence on early Christian art.  As faithful Jews the first Christians drew on the religious art already present in their Jewish tradition (see my review of Chapter 2).

Floor Mosaic - Beth Alpha. Source

Abraham “sacrificing” Isaac

It is quite probable that the first Christians used the images of Abraham “sacrificing” Isaac, Moses at the Burning Bush, and the Three Youths on display in the synagogues as visual prophecy pointing to the coming of Christ.

 

 

 

Three Youths in Furnace – Dura Europos Synagogue

Another factor to consider is that as pious Jews they had a keen appreciation for the visual displays on Herod’s Temple (see Luke 21:5-6) and were thus accepting of images used in connection with worship of Yahweh. The disciples’ acceptance of Jewish religious images of the time would account for the absence of first generation Christians challenging Jewish images because there was nothing to challenge.

In his examination of biblical passages where the word “eikon” (image) is used, Bigham examines Mark 12:13-17 where Jesus debates the lawfulness of paying taxes to Caesar and asks for a coin with Caesar’s image.  Jesus’ attitude here contrasts with that of the more rigorist rabbis at the time who refused to even look at or handle such coins because they bore the idolatrous image of the Roman man-god (pp. 83-84).   While the image on the coin is quite removed from the context of worship, Jesus’ tolerant attitude is quite instructive.  The attitude of iconoclastic Protestants today is closer to the rigorist rabbis of Jesus’ time than the tolerant stance of Jesus and his followers (pp. 54-56).

 

Images in Early Christian Tradition

Icon – Mary in Hagia Sophia

One of the most well known Christian images is the portrait of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ Child.  There is an oral tradition that the original painter of the portrait was Luke the Physician.  The earliest written record we have of this claim is the History of the Church by Theodore the Reader who lived in the fifth century (Bigham p. 90).

Virgin with Child - Catacomb in Rome

Virgin with Child – Catacomb in Rome

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another ancient tradition relates that the king of Edessa, Abgar, was sick and sent his ambassador, Ananias, to carry a letter petitioning Jesus to come and heal him.  Jesus turned down the request but promised to send one of his disciples at a later date.

King Abgar V

King Abgar V

 

One version of the story relates that Ananias painted a picture of Jesus for the king and another that Jesus imprinted his features onto a wet cloth (Bigham p. 91).  Eusebius in his Church History 1.13 gives a detailed account of this encounter and informs the reader that he himself examined Abgar’s letter at the royal archives of Edessa.

 

 

 

 

Frescoe in Catacombs of Rome

Frescoe in Catacombs of Rome

 

Eusebius in Church History 7.18 describes how there could be found in Caesarea Philippi a statue depicting Jesus healing the woman with the issue of blood, a reference to the healing miracle recorded in the Gospels (Mark 5:25-34, Matthew 9:20-22, Luke 8:43-48).  In addition to the three dimensional statue, this same passage also contains a description of the custom among Christians of making images of Christ and the Apostles.

Eusebius wrote:

Nor is it strange that those of the Gentiles who of old, were benefited by our Saviour, should have done such things, since we have learned also that the likenesses of his apostles Paul and Peter, and of Christ himself, are preserved in paintings, the ancients being accustomed, as it is likely, according to a habit of the Gentiles, to pay this kind of honor indiscriminately to those regarded by them as deliverers (Church History 7.18; emphasis added)

These accounts by Eusebius point to images as part of early Christianity.  It is not clear from these accounts that images could be found in places of Christian worship.  The chief significance of these accounts is that they refute the notion that early Christianity was aniconic or universally hostile to icons.

Protestants learning of these early accounts may be dubious about the relatively late date of the written records and skeptical of the reliability of Christian oral tradition. First, the historical gap between the events and the written records is not all that huge from the standpoint of mainstream historiography.  Second, the hostile attitude towards Christian oral tradition reflects a bias inherent in the Protestant theological principle sola Scriptura.

Sola Scriptura is intrinsically biased.  It forces Protestants to ignore Scripture passages about the faithful passing on of the Apostles’ teaching whether in oral or written forms from generation to generation (2 Thessalonians 2:15; 2 Timothy 1:13-14, 2:2). Oral Tradition, of necessity, prevailed during the early decades before any New Testament Scripture were written down (much less widely copied and distributed). Phillip did not hop into the Ethiopian eunuch’s chariot with a bound New Testament in hand.  Instead he explained Isaiah drawing on the oral Tradition he received from the Apostles in Jerusalem.  The Apostles preached the Gospel, baptized converts, planted Churches, devised liturgies and ordained priests to serve the Church without a handbook to instruct them (Acts 13-14).  It would be centuries before a recognized New Testament comprised of 27 books came into existence.  The 27 book New Testament we know today reflects the dynamic development of Christian Tradition over several centuries.  The Protestant bias against oral Tradition is largely an emotional reaction to medieval Roman Catholicism. There is good reason to suspect that Protestant iconoclasm was rooted in a similar reaction. We exhort our Protestant readers: Read your Bibles with a mind open to Oral Tradition!

A more rational approach would be to have an open mind and heart to early church history.  Fr. Bigham notes:

Let us be clear here: in studying these traditions, we are not necessarily claiming that they are historical, but we are not claiming, either, that they are void of historical content.  It is, in fact, impossible to establish or disprove their historicity (p. 89).

More recently, however, ethnographic, anthropological, biblical and historical studies have given researchers a more open mind about the possibility of gathering historical information from oral traditions that were written down at a considerable period of time after the events or people described (p. 89).

As part of his survey of early Christian sources, Steven Bigham examines two major figures who held to a rigorist interpretation of the Second Commandment.  He notes that Tertullian handled the self-contradictory implications of his rigorist position by creating a listing of items exempt from the Second Commandment, e.g., the golden cherubim over the Ark and the bronze serpent (pp. 125-126).  Another early Christian writer is Clement of Alexandria who resorted to allegorizing in order to account for the construction of cherubim and other images in the Old Testament Tabernacle (pp. 132-140).

The scope of Steven Bigham’s research in Chapter 3 is wide ranging.  In addition to Christian sources, he surveys sources of dubious theological provenance that point to early use of images among quasi-Christian groups (see pp. 94-111).  This makes Bigham’s book a valuable resource for anyone interested in researching early Christian attitudes towards image.

 

Map of Elvira and early Spain

Map of Elvira and early Spain

The Council of Elvira

In recent debates between Protestants and Orthodox Christians over the legitimacy of icons the Council of Elvira has been cited not a few times by those who oppose icons.  This particular council took place in Spain during a period of relative peace during Diocletian’s rule, either 295-302 or 306-314.  Canon 36 reads:

Placuit picturas in ecclesia esse non debere, ne quod colitur et adoratur in parietibus depingatur.

It has seemed good that images should not be in churches so that what is venerated and worshiped not be painted on the walls.

This text is significant because the word “picturas” is a clear reference to non-idolatrous, figurative representations (p. 162).  Bigham notes that the meaning of Canon 36 is not as clear as iconoclasts presume.  First, it is not clear what was being depicted on church walls.  Were these abstract symbols or portraits of God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit?  Second, we know nothing of the circumstances giving rise to this canon.  Were the bishops afraid that these images could become subject to profanation by pagans, or were the bishops concerned about superstitious attitudes by members of their flock? (see p. 163).

The Council of Elvira was not a major council.  The canons of this council were adopted by other councils but interestingly not Canon 36 (p. 165).  Canon 36’s limited influence can be seen in the fact that Frankish Church in its opposition to the Seventh Ecumenical Council did not invoke the Council of Elvira.  This is further supported by the fact that paintings on church walls were encouraged among the Franks.  This leads Bigham to suspect that Canon 36 was a corrective action intended for a particular time and place; it was not intended as a universal prescription.  In any event, two conclusions can be deduced from Canon 36: (1) it provides strong evidence that some form of paintings was put on church walls, and (2) it provides ambiguous support for the iconoclastic position. The biggest problem for the iconoclast is that Canon 36 does not support the argument that early Christianity was universally hostile to icons.  At best it can be claimed that some early Christians were opposed to images.

As a minor council the Council of Elvira faded from view until the iconoclast controversy erupted during the Protestant Reformation some one thousand years later.  There is a certain irony in the fact that an obscure regional council would be so widely “accepted” and cited by Protestants given that many Protestants treat the early councils with disdain or disregard.

 

The Mind of the Church

Opponents of icons claim that their opposition to icons are not just their opinion but reflect the mind of the early Church.  Of their research of ancient Christian sources Bigham notes: “They also give equal authority to all the witnesses called to testify without any regard for the value of each witnesses’ testimony.  The result is, therefore, a potpourri of witnesses….” (p. 171; emphasis added)  Bigham’s review of early sources shows that if anything the early attitudes towards Christian images was mixed and that iconoclasm was not a majority position.

In assessing early Christian sources Bigham notes that these can divided into three groupings: (1) individual opinion, (2) theologoumenon – a respected opinion accepted by some but not by all, or (3) dogma – an opinion held by the Church universal.  The last usually emerges during times of conflict and controversy.  This points to the dynamic nature of Christian Tradition.  Steven Bigham writes:

We have argued that Christian art passed through several stages in the course of its historical development: from indirect symbols, signs and images to direct images of historical persons and events.  We have also stated that Christian art was a tradition that the Church adopted and adapted to its own needs (p. 169).

The dynamic nature of Christian Tradition can be seen in Christology.  Early Christianity prior to Constantine shared a common Faith transmitted through its bishops.  Irenaeus attested to the common faith shared by Christians across the Roman Empire.

Having received this preaching and this faith, as I have said, the Church, although scattered in the whole world, carefully preserves it, as if living in one house.  She believes these things [everywhere] alike, as if she had but one heart and one soul, and preaches them harmoniously, teaches them, and hands them down, as if she had but one mouth.

The articulation of official theological dogmas stated in precise language would not emerge until the Ecumenical Councils beginning with Nicea I in 325.  Over the next several centuries controversies would lead to rulings by Ecumenical Councils settling these matters decisively. One thing inquirers will find in Orthodoxy that is strikingly absent in Protestantism is the understanding of the Holy Spirit being active in the early Church.  Many Protestants believe that the early Church fell into error and spiritual darkness shortly after the passing of the Apostles.  In Orthodoxy pneumatology is integrated with ecclesiology, but in Protestantism pneumatology is for the most part independent of ecclesiology. So as one ponders the Ecumenical Councils it is important to see the Holy Spirit guiding Christ’s Church into all truth (John 16:13).  This dynamic development of Tradition can be seen in the early simple confessions of Jesus as the Son of God to the Nicene Creed’s Christology articulated using precise and nuanced language.

Interestingly, it was not until the seventh century that the use of images in Christian worship became a major theological issue warranting a conciliar response.  Bigham notes about the timing of the Church’s dogmatic stance on icons:

The Church formulated its attitude toward non-idolatrous images, and expressed that attitude, not in the pre-Constantinian period, but some four centuries later.  In the fire of a crisis, during which the iconoclasts openly repudiated the tradition of Christian images, calling icons idols and veneration idolatry, the Church, and not just certain Christians, affirmed the legitimacy of this tradition by appealing to history and theology: to history, by claiming that images were made in the apostolic era; to theology, by stating that since the invisible God became visible in Christ, it is right to paint his earthly image.  A tradition with a small “t” became part of holy Tradition with a capital “T”; it has become part of orthodoxy itself.  (p. 172)

Thus, the Seventh Ecumenical Council’s affirmation of icons is not something added on but an affirmation of an implicitly accepted custom widespread among early Christians.  Protestant iconoclasts suffering from historical amnesia have reached the mistaken conclusion that icons are a later addition.  It then becomes something of a shock when they encounter historic Orthodoxy which claims to have kept the Apostolic Faith without change for the past two millennia and which defends images (icons) as part of the historic Christian Faith.

 

Assessment

Father Steven Bigham deserves credit for his unflinching examination of the early evidence relating to images in early Christianity.  Reading this chapter will expose the reader to a wide range of sources: orthodox, heterodox, heretical, and even pagan.  He is to be commended for working with evidence that is at times sparse, ambiguous, and at times of dubious provenance.  While it is difficult to argue for the full fledge veneration of icons early on, the evidence Bigham surveyed pretty much refutes the notion of universal hostility to images among early Christians.  The significance of Chapter 3 is that it significantly weakens the historical basis for the iconoclastic position.  If true, this leaves Protestant iconoclasts clinging to theological bias as the sole ground for their opposition to Orthodox icons.

 Robert Arakaki

Early Jewish Attitudes Toward Images

Book Review: Early Christian Attitudes toward Images by Steven Bigham (2 of 4)

This blog posting is a continuation of an earlier review of Fr. Steven Bigham’s book.  In this posting I will be reviewing and interacting with Bigham’s arguments in Chapter 2.

Chapter 2 examines early Jewish attitudes toward images.  This is important because modern Protestant iconoclasm assumes that the early Christians inherited from the Jews a hostile attitude towards images.  However, if it can be shown that there existed an open attitude toward images among early Jews then the basis for the hostility theory becomes problematic.

Steven Bigham notes that a distinction needs to be drawn between figurative art and pagan idols.  He presents Jean-Baptiste Frey’s theory that an alternation took place between a rigorist and less rigorous interpretations of the Second Commandment (pp. 22-23). This challenges the implicit assumption that Jewish opposition to images to be fixed and unchanging.  This new approach allows for more flexible readings of the biblical, rabbinical, and historical data.  It is suggested that a liberal attitude towards images existed from the period of monarchy to the exile, then a rigorist attitude from the restoration to the Hellenistic period.  Later, an accepting attitude was found among the Amoraïm, the successors to the Pharisees.

Biblical Evidences

In sub-section 3 (pp. 22-32), Bigham reviews the biblical evidence for the use of art and images in Israelite worship: Exodus, Numbers, 1 Kings, Ezekiel, and Ecclesiasticus.  In considering the Old Testament evidence, Bigham excludes passages relating to pagan idolatry and examines passages pertaining to Israelite worship (p. 26).

The Tabernacle in Exodus

Tabernacle in Exodus

Tabernacle in Exodus

Bigham finds it significant that Exodus which contained the Second Commandment (Exodus 20:2-6) also contained divine instructions for the construction of the golden cherubim over the Ark of the Testimony (Exodus 25:1-22), as well as the manufacture of curtains embroidered with cherubim (Exodus 26:1, 31).  Bigham notes,

Placed so close to God himself and so intimately linked with the worship of the true God, the cherubim could never be separated from that worship and become themselves the object of misdirected, idolatrous worship.  The cherubim on the Ark of the Testimony are a real problem for the advocates of rigorism, because God himself ordered Moses to have them made.  The untenable contradiction in the divine commands disappears if we assume a relative interpretation of the 2nd Commandment that allows for non-idolatrous, liturgical images (p. 26).

All too often Protestant iconoclasm has equated idolatry with images, but this is too simplistic a definition.  In his examination of the passage on the bronze serpent, Bigham notes that a sculpted image can be used in a non-idolatrous way.  In response to the poisonous snakes sent to punish the Israelites, God ordered the making of a bronze serpent as a means of healing (Numbers 21:4-9).  Later, King Hezekiah destroyed the serpent because the Israelites had begun to misuse it (2 Kings 18:1-4).  Bigham notes:

This episode shows how an object, an image, normally not considered to be a idol, can become one.  Idolatry is determined by a person’s intention and attitude toward an image, and not by the image itself (p. 27; emphasis added).

What Bigham has done here is to clarify the difference between religious art and idolatry.  Furthermore, he has resolved an apparent contradiction in the Old Testament.  His contextual understanding of the Old Testament passages avoids the difficulties caused by the more rigorist interpretations of the Second Commandment which would clash with subsequent passages that mandate the making of religious art.

In doing so, Bigham has rendered a tremendous service to Reformed-Orthodox dialogue.  In any conversation on the Second Commandment and the proper role of images in worship, it is important that a balanced and biblically based definition of idolatry be established at the outset.  If the two sides start from disparate definitions, the conversation will go nowhere.  One question for the Reformed Christians and Evangelicals to consider is whether Bigham’s understanding is both biblical and balanced.  If not, then they should put forward an alternative definition for the Orthodox to consider.

Solomon’s Temple

solomon_s_cherubim

 

Bigham describes Solomon’s Temple in 1 Kings to be “a veritable art gallery and a nightmare for the advocates of the rigorist interpretation” (p. 28).  King Solomon did not just replicate the Mosaic Tabernacle, but expanded and elaborated on the religious art work in connection with the worship of Yahweh. He had two enormous cherubim sculpted out of wood and overlaid with gold (1 Kings 6:23-28).

 

Interior of Solomon's Temple

Interior of Solomon’s Temple

Solomon also had cherubim, palm trees, and open flowers carved on all the Temple walls and on the door to the Holy of Holies (1 Kings 6:29-31).  Solomon made a molten sea which was placed over twelve statues of bulls (1 Kings 7:23-26).  Furthermore, Solomon ordered the making of movable stands on which were carvings not just of cherubim, but also of lions and bulls (1 Kings 7:27-37).

 

The laudatory tone with which Solomon’s construction of the Temple for Yahweh was presented and the absence of any criticism makes 1 Kings quite problematic for those who hold to the iconoclastic position.

Solomon’s throne likewise was a huge work of art comprised of ascending steps with sculpted lions on both sides of each step leading to the throne (1 Kings 10:18-20).  While less holy than the Temple, the throne was nonetheless the seat of the Lord’s anointed.  This biblical passage points to an acceptance of images beyond the Temple into “secular” domains.

The favorable attitude among Jews continued into the post-exilic period.  Bigham found in I Maccabees 1:22 and 4:57 evidence that the front of the Second Temple (520-515 BC) had been decorated with gold.

Ezekiel’s vision of the restored Temple continues the favorable attitude towards the use of images.  As a prophecy it is significant because it extends the orthodoxy of religious images from the Mosaic Tabernacle of the past into the future worship of the Messianic Age, i.e., the Christian era.  What is astounding is the profusion of images in Ezekiel’s future temple.

As far as the nearby wall of the inner and outer courts and along upon the wall all around within and without were depicted cherubim and palm trees, between cherub and cherub.  Each cherub had two faces, the face of a man toward a palm tree on one side, and the face of a lion toward a palm tree on the other side.  Thus it was depicted throughout the house all around.  From the floor to the threshold, the cherubim and the palm trees were interspersed upon the walls (Ezekiel 41:17-20; OSB).

Taken together, the combined witness of passages across the Old Testament–from the time of Moses, the royal kingdom, and the prophetic tradition–presents an immense challenge to those who hold to the rigorist interpretation of the Second Commandment which disallows any and all forms of images in connection with the worship of Yahweh.

Non-Religious Images

In sub-section 5 (pp. 34-41), Bigham notes that additional evidence in support of Jewish tolerance or acceptance of images can be found in coins decorated with symbols like wreaths, horns of plenty, palms, cups and amphorae.  It seems that these were accepted by Jewish authorities and rabbis.  Similarly, Bigham found in Josephus’ The Antiquity of the Jews evidence that a certain prominent Jew, Hyrcanus, built a castle decorated with animals engraved on its walls (Bigham p. 37).

Jewish Sacrophagus - Beth Shearim,

Angel on Jewish Sacrophagus – Beth Shearim

 

 

 

 

Detail of Sarcophagus at Beth Shearim, Israel. Source

 

Carving of Lioness on Hyrcanus Palace

Carving of Lioness on Hyrcanus Palace 

 

Josephus and Philo

In sub-section 6 (pp. 41-66), Bigham examines the evidence used to support the notion that first century Judaism prohibited “images of animate beings” on the basis of the Jewish Law.  Two early sources, Josephus and Philo, have been used to bolster the claim that first century Judaism was by and large iconophobic.  Bigham notes that behind this iconophobia was hostility to symbols of Roman rule.  In other words the first century rigorist reading of the Second Commandment may be rooted just as much in politics as in religion (p. 44).  Josephus in his Antiquities XVIII, III, 1, explained that Jewish opposition to the Romans display of the emperor’s image on military standards was due to the Second Commandment. However, Bigham notes:

We can also see Josephus’s motivation for painting the incident in religious, rather than its obvious political colors: The Roman authorities for whom Josephus wrote would be less offended by an insult to the emperor’s image based on the Jews’ well-known sensitivity in religious matters.  In any case, Josephus’s presentation of the Law – “our law forbids us the very making of images” – is simply wrong since previous and subsequent Jewish history shows that such images were made and accepted under certain conditions (p. 45).

 

Recent Archaeological Discoveries

Dura Europos Synagogue. Source

Dura Europos Synagogue. Source

In sub-section 7 (pp. 66-78), Father Bigham devotes several pages (pp. 66-70) to the archaeologists’ discovery of the Jewish synagogue in Dura Europos in 1932. Its complete burial allowed it to be preserved virtually intact. Due to the widespread assumption at the time that early Judaism was aniconic, the building was initially mistaken for a Greek temple.

 

Image of Baby Moses - Dura Europos Synagogue

Image of Baby Moses – Dura Europos Synagogue. Source

The Dura Europos synagogue has profoundly challenged many misconceptions of early Jewish worship.  The Dura Europos synagogue was not an isolated exception; other ancient synagogues had figurative arts (p. 67).

 

 

 

Moses and Burning Bush - Dura Europos. Source

Moses and Burning Bush – Dura Europos. Source

 

Floor Mosaic - Beth Alpha. Source

The Binding of Isaac – Beth Alpha. Source

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mosaic at Beth Alpha

Mosaic at Beth Alpha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This leads Bigham to write:

… it seems increasingly clear that Judaism led the way in developing figurative art and that Christianity followed, at least at the beginning.  We have already seen that this hypothesis is upheld by many scholars.  Even in areas other than art, we see the same phenomenon: early Christianity often modeled itself on its Jewish parent.  “For the ancestry of most elements of early church worship, we must look to the synagogue rather than the home … (C. Filson)” (Bigham p. 68)

These archaeological evidences present serious problems for those who hold to the hostility theory, especially on the assumption that early Judaism was uniformly aniconic and iconophobic (Bigham p. 89).  However, if first century Judaism accepted religious art, then it makes sense that the early Christianity reflected its Jewish roots.  It can then be argued that it is the iconoclastic hostility theory that represents an alien intrusion into Christian history.  The hostility theory was easy to uphold when the evidence was buried in the ground but when archaeological discoveries over the past century unearth these evidences that theory lost its foundation.

Religious Art in Early Jewish Synagogues

In addition to the startling discoveries at Dura Europos, there are other evidence of religious art in Jewish synagogues.

Zodiac - Synagogue Mosaic on Mt. Carmel

Zodiac – Synagogue Mosaic on Mt. Carmel. Source

 

 The zodiac mosaic at Beth Alpha was not an isolated example.  Other similar zodiacs have been found in Israel, e.g., Hammath Tiberias on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, Naaran near Jericho, Sepphoris slightly north of Nazareth, En Gedi by the Dead Sea, and Huseifa near Mt. Carmel.

 

 

Religious Art in Medieval Judaism

Torah Shrine - Butzian Synagogue in Cracow, Poland

Torah Shrine – Butzian Synagogue in Cracow, Poland

 

An examination of religious art in medieval Judaism shows an attitude more accepting of religious art than that found in the Reformed tradition.  One example is the carving of images on the ark in the Butzian Synagogue in Cracow, Poland. 

 

Findings and Conclusion

Fr. Steven Bigham has conducted a wide ranging review of evidence about early Jewish attitudes toward images.  The evidences include both biblical and extra-biblical sources, as well as secular literary sources and archaeological evidences.  Bigham notes that the evidence is not conclusive, but it does call into question the assumption that early Judaism was uniformly and rigidly opposed to images.  Early Jewish acceptance of images even in the context of synagogue worship lays the historical basis for the acceptance of images in early Christian worship.

Robert Arakaki

Clearing the Way for Reformed-Orthodox Dialogue on Icons

 

Book Review: Early Christian Attitudes toward Images by Steven Bigham (1 of 4)

attitudes_imagesIn recent years icons have become a matter of public debate among Protestants and Evangelicals, and Orthodox Christians.  Where in the past Protestants thought of icons as an Orthodox peculiarity or a quaint dispute quickly passed over in church history class, they are coming to grips with the fact that icons present a serious theological challenge to their theology.  In addition to the discovery that a rereading of Scripture from a different angle can lead to a solid biblical basis for icons, they must also grapple with the implications that ripple out from the historic role of icons in the early Church.   Cardinal John Henry Newman’s quip: “”To be deep in history is to cease to be Protestant” might be more true than most have considered!  [See my articles: “How an Icon Brought a Calvinist to Orthodoxy” and “The Biblical Basis for Icons.”]

In the recent dialogue between Protestants and Orthodox over icons both sides have appealed to evidence from early Christianity.  One of the challenges in this conversation has been unfamiliarity with early Christian sources on the part of some participants.  Oftentimes it seems that those opposed to icons find some surprising evidence from early sources that appear to refute the Christian use of icons.  What is needed is a comprehensive overview of early Christian sources on the use of images in worship.  Steven Bigham’s Early Christian Attitudes toward Images (2004) seems to fit the bill.

The purpose of this review is to assess Bigham’s book in terms of its usefulness to the Reformed-Orthodox dialogue on the use of icons in Christian worship.  I plan to review Bigham’s book in four installments.

Overview

Given the highly charged nature of the topic it is important that we put out certain facts on the table at the outset.  Father Steven Bigham, Ph.D., is an Orthodox priest serving the Carpatho-Russian diocese in Montreal, Canada.  The book is published by the Orthodox Research Institute.  In his preface Bigham gives the book’s objective: “Eliminate once and for all the idea that the Christians of the first centuries were iconophobic.”  Thus, Bigham’s book is an unabashed Orthodox apologia for icons.

While many of our readers hold strong theological convictions, I am confident that they are likewise committed to the use of critical reason and evidence based approach to forming of their faith convictions.  In other words, we are not trapped by partisan categories; rather through an evidence-based approach one can come to a critically informed position on icons one way or the other.  The primary criterion driving this review is historical.  That is, how comprehensive is Bigham’s survey of the evidence from early the Christian period?  How balanced is Bigham’s assessment of the evidence?  How significant a contribution can the book make to the Reformed-Orthodox dialogue?

The book is divided into four chapters.  Chapter 1 deals with the “hostility theory” which holds that the early Christians were hostile toward images.  Chapter 2 deals with early Jewish attitudes toward images.  Chapter 3 deals with the early Christian attitudes towards images, that is, the pre-Constantinian period.  Chapter 4 deals with Eusebius of Caesarea who witnessed the beginning of Constantinian era.

The Hostility Theory

The argument against icons has taken several forms.  One major line of attack has been biblical, giving special attention to the Second Commandment.  Another has been a historical argument against icons.  The “hostility theory” proposes: (1) that first century Judaism was aniconic or iconoclastic, (2) the early Church reflecting its Jewish roots was likewise aniconic or iconoclastic, and (3) the incorporation of images can be attributed to Christianity’s assimilation into Roman society under Emperor Constantine.  For the reader’s convenience Bigham presents a lengthy excerpt that exemplifies the hostility theory (see pp. 2-3).

Bigham conducted a  literature review that shows much of the hostility theory can be traced to nineteenth century liberal Protestantism.  The contention here is that the modern historians invented the early Christians hostility towards images.  In his assessment Bigham notes that the theory assumes the absence of images in first century Judaism and that this theory has been weakened by recent archaeological findings of images used in connection with Jewish religious life.

When the hostility theory was being developed, our knowledge of ancient Judaism was much more limited than it is today.  The artistic monuments we know today were all still underground.  It is easy to see why no one questioned the notion that Judaism was monolithically iconophobic, but throughout the 20th century, our accepted ideas about the attitudes and the practices of ancient Judaism have gone through a radical revision and this especially as a result of recent archaeological discoveries.  Once again, artistic monuments, this time Jewish ones, have challenged the advocates of the hostility theory to reconcile the supposed Jewish aniconia and iconophobia with the Jewish artistic monuments found in the archaeological digs (Bigham p. 6).

Bigham examines the recent archaeological finding in Chapter 2.  But issue before us here is the way the hostility theory is framed.  It is important to keep in mind that much of the recent Protestant opposition to icons has been influenced by nineteenth century Christian liberalism and is thus markedly different from the iconoclasm of the seventh and eighth centuries, and from the iconoclasm in Calvin’s Institutes.  By deconstructing modern Protestant iconoclasm Bigham has made a substantial contribution to Reformed-Orthodox dialogue.  His analysis enables us to become critically aware of the issues and assumptions that unite us and divide us.  All too often it has been the hidden assumptions that have derailed inter-faith dialogue.  This creates a window of opportunity for two different theological tradition to converse with each other with understanding and empathy.

Image versus Idol

Another important task Bigham carries out in Chapter 1 is drawing the distinction between image and idol.  The term “image” covers a wide range of meaning.  Image can mean: (1) image of pagan deities, (2) religious art in the Mosaic Tabernacle and later Jewish temples, (3) decorative art in Jewish life, and (4) religious art used in Christian worship.   This distinction is important for how we understand the prohibition in the Second Commandment.  An awareness of these conceptual categories helps in the assessment of historical and archaeological evidences.

One frequent problem I’ve noticed is the tendency by some to interpret the Second Commandment as a blanket prohibition against any and all images.  These critics then take early sources that denounce the use of images in pagan worship and apply them to the use of images in worship in Christian worship.  The issue here is not pagan religions, but worship in the Jewish and Christian traditions.  Leaving out irrelevant ancient sources critical of pagan idolatry reduces the amount considerably leaving us to consider relevant evidences.  And even when those who oppose icons do find ancient sources critical of the use of images in Christian worship they must show that these are not isolated individual instances but part of a broader consensus opposed to the use of images in Christian worship.  So far they have failed to do this.

Differing Understandings of Tradition

Another frequent problem in the dialogue between Orthodox and Protestant dialogue is the disparate understandings of Tradition.  Some Protestants assume that for Orthodox Christians Tradition is static, allowing no room for development.  This is not the case.  Bigham counters that stereotype noting:

Few defenders of the idea of Tradition claim that nothing has changed since the beginning of the Church, and everyone recognizes that all the changes that have taken place have not necessarily been for the good.  . . . .  A healthy doctrine of Holy Tradition makes a place for changes, and even corruption and restoration, throughout history while still affirming an essential continuity and purity.  This concept is otherwise known as indefectibility: the gates of hell will not prevail against the Church.  This theoretical framework, indefectibility, takes change and evolution into account but denies that there has been or can be a rupture or corruption of Holy Tradition itself (p. 15).

This description of Tradition as dynamic and organic with an element of continuity and fidelity is helpful for both Orthodox and Reformed Christians.  It recognizes Orthodoxy being situated in the messiness of human history.  It allows for Orthodox Christology existing alongside early heresies like Docetism, Arianism, and Apollinarianism without undermining the notion of theological orthodoxy.  The presence of early Christological heresies does not mean the early Church did not believe in Christ’s divinity or in the Trinity.  The Church had always held to these beliefs, but was forced by these heresies to articulate her beliefs with precision using “invented” terms like: Trinity, homoousions (consubstantial), and creatio ex nihilo (creation out of nothing).  The Reformed tradition’s understanding of the Trinity and Christology imply an acceptance of historical development in early Christianity.  A rigid and static approach to Christian tradition would require the jettisoning of important theological terms like: Trinity, hypostasis (person), ousia (being), and homoousios (of the same Essence).  No serious Protestant would dare take this position!

Most Protestant and Reformed approaches to this messy historic traditioning process all too often default to ahistoric propositional reductionism. The propositional reductionisms in their confessions fail miserably to deal rigorously with how the Church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit applied the implications of Christological dogmas. Thus, Protestant ecclesiology and its understanding of history seem void of any consideration of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the early Church and in lives of the church fathers. This tendency can be seen not only in the icon debate, but also with respect to the formation of the biblical canon.  The Holy Scripture so revered by Protestants and Reformed Christians is the result of several centuries’ long process in which the Church guided by the Holy Spirit determined which writings can be deemed divinely inspired and authoritative.  But when we read Reformed confessional documents we find only ahistoric assertions about the nature and makeup of the Bible.  It is as if the Bible miraculously appeared out heaven and landed in the early Church in leather bound version with all 66 books neatly listed with little or no human involvement in the making and shaping of the biblical canon.

The Orthodox affirmation of the historical development of Tradition is based on Christ’s promise that he would send the Holy Spirit who would guide the Church into all truth (John 16:13).  The historical development of Tradition is like a tiny young sapling that grows over time into a big mature tree (Matthew 13:31-32).  Bigham writes about the growth and development of the role of art in Christian Tradition:

Nevertheless, once adopted, Christian art became such an important support to the proclamation of the Gospel that its conscious rejection had very serious repercussions.  With time, the Church invested so much energy in its sacred art that a simple custom became an essential witness to the preaching of the Gospel.  Once again, images are not necessary as are baptism, the eucharist, the doctrines of the Trinity or the divinity of Christ, etc. without which we cannot even conceive of Christianity as we know it now.  Images became essential, in item and through the blood of the martyrs, because their rejection implied a weakening or even a denial of the Incarnation itself (p. 18).

Bigham here presents Tradition as concentric circles.  There is the essential core consisting of the Gospel, the Trinity, and the Eucharist, and an outer layer of practices like the use of incense, holy images, and church buildings.  While the outer layer is ‘less’ important, the organic nature of Orthodox Tradition is such that it is practically impossible to separate the various constituent elements.  Over time as the liturgical life of the Church flourished and as the early controversies led to a deeper appreciation of the Incarnation the role of images in Christian worship underwent a profound change.

It is important that any Protestant critique of Orthodoxy have an appreciation of Orthodoxy’s complex and nuanced approach to Tradition.  Failure to do so will result in the projecting of popular stereotypes on a venerable theological tradition. In short, a Protestant apologist presuming that for Orthodoxy Tradition is static will end up setting up a straw man argument.  This is shoddy apologetics and hinders Reformed-Orthodox dialogue.

Icons and Apostolicity

Both those favor icons and those who oppose them argue from apostolic continuity. Those who oppose icons argue that they represent a lost apostolic Tradition, that the early Christians did not use images in worship, and that the introduction of images into Christian worship represent a rupture that require a return to the original apostolic Tradition.  Those favoring icons likewise argue from Tradition asserting there was no break in apostolic Tradition, that there exists a fundamental continuity between the early Christians and Orthodox veneration of icons.  For theologically conservative Christians, both Protestant and Orthodox, apostolicity is essential to authentic Christianity.  This gives them common ground as opposed to modernism. For theological liberals fidelity to apostolic tradition is less crucial than evolutionary adaptation to society.  If Reformed theology rests on a flawed historiography then Reformed Christians need to seriously reconsider the implications of icons for apostolicity and authentic Christianity.

Conclusion

The work done by Father Steven Bigham in Chapter 1 will make a valuable contribution to Reformed-Orthodox dialogue.  The care and attention which he gives to the issues underlying the recent icon controversy will assist both sides.  The Reformed-Orthodox dialogue on icons is far from over and has only just begun.  This book is recommended for both Reformed and Orthodox Christians.

Robert Arakaki

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