An Ontological Justification for Icons
With the kind permission of Dr Anna Zhyrkova, here is an excerpt from her chapter, “John of Damascus’ Philosophy of the Individual and the Theology of Icons” in The Cambridge Intellectual History of Byzantium, ed. A. Kaldellis & N. Siniossoglou (Cambridge University Press, 2017), 431–46.
During the seventh and eighth centuries, the Byzantine empire underwent dramatic political and socioeconomic changes. Previously the dominant political entity, it suffered a tremendous loss of territory and political power. While under threat from the caliphate and the Bulgar khanate, it failed to retain political and spiritual connections to Rome, and its economic and administrative systems experienced numerous transformations. Even as it faced the external menace of Islam, internally it was coping with the sociopolitical consequences of the Christological controversies. However, rather than treating this period as analogous to the western Dark Ages, we might consider it an age of redefinition—one which helped shape the new cultural reality of Byzantine Orthodoxy. In the larger context of those changes, the Iconoclastic controversy may count as just one of numerous problems marking the empire’s transformation. Still, the controversy was of immense theological importance, resulting in the establishment of a systematic theology of icons and even, one might say, of Orthodoxy as such. As Robin Cormack has pointed out, only after Iconoclasm did icons become a symbol and sign of Orthodoxy and the distinguishing feature of the eastern Church’s doctrine.
The core tenets of the theology of icons were delivered in the works of John of Damascus. The significance of his work on this subject for the eastern tradition cannot be exaggerated, but a careful reader of his theological treatises will discover that his theological conceptions are grounded in novel philosophical insights into the questions of the individual and individuality. While this part of his work is frequently ignored by scholars, it was widely recognized by leading medieval philosophers in the west. When discussing individuality and individuation—one of the most important issues of medieval philosophy—Duns Scotus, Henry of Ghent, Godfrey of Fontaines, and others named John of Damascus in the same breath as such undisputed authorities as Porphyry and Avicenna. Thus, even if our focus is on his theology of icons, this element of John’s thought should not be neglected. For instead of concentrating on the obscure question of the nature of images, John proposes an ontological justification for icons: that they themselves are consequences of the essential unity of divinity and humanity in one unique individual—the Incarnate Logos.
The roots of the Iconoclastic controversy had emerged long before John came on the scene. The cult of icons, which now seems natural to and inseparable from the Orthodox faith itself and the numerous cultures it shaped, went through a long, difficult process of growth and rejection before obtaining doctrinal justification and becoming an inextricable part of Orthodoxy. Both the controversy itself and the reasons for it continue to puzzle historians, even after extensive study. Facile accounts attribute it to the influence of foreign ideas, such as Jewish and Muslim attitudes toward images, “Caesaropapism,” the Christological controversies, the tradition of cultic veneration of images, social differences between the oriental population and traditional urban culture, and so on. These do not withstand critique based on the available evidence. We can say with certainty only that Iconoclasm was a complex phenomenon, whose proper understanding still eludes us.
The emperor Leo III (717–741) supposedly initiated the first phase of Iconoclasm in the mid-720s, though the exact nature of his policy remains controversial and is hard to extract from iconophile polemic. As an official policy, it was reversed by the empress-regnant Eirene (780–797), who summoned the Ecumenical Council of 787 at Nicaea, reestablishing the traditional status of religious imagery and proclaiming the veneration of icons as an article of faith. The second phase of Iconoclasm was shorter: in 815, Leo V (813–820) reembraced it, but in 842 the Synod of Constantinople convoked by the empress-regent Theodora restored the cult of holy icons, and this was commemorated later as the Feast of Orthodoxy and the final defeat of Iconoclasm. If one reflects on the Iconoclastic controversy, relating it to the otherwise consistently ongoing iconophile tradition of the eastern Church, Iconoclasm seems to be no more than a passing hiatus. Yet it led to the crystallization of Orthodox theology and the self-identification of the eastern Church itself.
The theological arguments used by both sides early on in the controversy are not directly known to us. Possible lines of argumentation might be deduced from the letters of the prominent defender of icons and witness of the outburst of the controversy, Germanos, patriarch of Constantinople. In his writings one can find the centuries-old accusation of breaching Mosaic Law through worshiping artifacts, together with the Old Testament prohibition against images and arguments based on the impossibility of depicting invisible and spiritual realities such as the Godhead. Germanos’ defense was already essentially familiar, too. He denies that Christians ever worshiped created things: true worship is reserved for God alone. He also denies that there can be images of an invisible God, and stresses that images of Christ and the saints are meant to encourage people to follow them and praise God. His defense is based on the fact that Christ, like the Virgin and the other saints, can be pictured “in terms of the flesh.” The patriarch also points out that one should not accept the arguments directed against images by Jews and Muslims, who aim to destroy the Church. Icons belong to the ecclesiastical tradition and have never in fact been condemned by the Church.
Thus, when shortly after 730 John of Damascus came to the defense of icons, the question of images was not considered a Christological problem and there was no theology of icons sensu stricto. John saw that giving up icons was no small thing and would have immense theological consequences. It was John who turned the discussion of whether the use and veneration of religious imagery was in accordance with the Bible and Church tradition into a doctrinal issue of Christological and soteriological essence. And it was John who built the foundations of the theology of icons as we know it today.
During the seventh and eighth centuries, the Byzantine empire underwent dramatic political and socioeconomic changes. Previously the dominant political entity, it suffered a tremendous loss of territory and political power. While under threat from the caliphate and the Bulgar khanate, it failed to retain political and spiritual connections to Rome, and its economic and administrative systems experienced numerous transformations. Even as it faced the external menace of Islam, internally it was coping with the sociopolitical consequences of the Christological controversies. However, rather than treating this period as analogous to the western Dark Ages, we might consider it an age of redefinition—one which helped shape the new cultural reality of Byzantine Orthodoxy. In the larger context of those changes, the Iconoclastic controversy may count as just one of numerous problems marking the empire’s transformation. Still, the controversy was of immense theological importance, resulting in the establishment of a systematic theology of icons and even, one might say, of Orthodoxy as such. As Robin Cormack has pointed out, only after Iconoclasm did icons become a symbol and sign of Orthodoxy and the distinguishing feature of the eastern Church’s doctrine.
The core tenets of the theology of icons were delivered in the works of John of Damascus. The significance of his work on this subject for the eastern tradition cannot be exaggerated, but a careful reader of his theological treatises will discover that his theological conceptions are grounded in novel philosophical insights into the questions of the individual and individuality. While this part of his work is frequently ignored by scholars, it was widely recognized by leading medieval philosophers in the west. When discussing individuality and individuation—one of the most important issues of medieval philosophy—Duns Scotus, Henry of Ghent, Godfrey of Fontaines, and others named John of Damascus in the same breath as such undisputed authorities as Porphyry and Avicenna. Thus, even if our focus is on his theology of icons, this element of John’s thought should not be neglected. For instead of concentrating on the obscure question of the nature of images, John proposes an ontological justification for icons: that they themselves are consequences of the essential unity of divinity and humanity in one unique individual—the Incarnate Logos.
The roots of the Iconoclastic controversy had emerged long before John came on the scene. The cult of icons, which now seems natural to and inseparable from the Orthodox faith itself and the numerous cultures it shaped, went through a long, difficult process of growth and rejection before obtaining doctrinal justification and becoming an inextricable part of Orthodoxy. Both the controversy itself and the reasons for it continue to puzzle historians, even after extensive study. Facile accounts attribute it to the influence of foreign ideas, such as Jewish and Muslim attitudes toward images, “Caesaropapism,” the Christological controversies, the tradition of cultic veneration of images, social differences between the oriental population and traditional urban culture, and so on. These do not withstand critique based on the available evidence. We can say with certainty only that Iconoclasm was a complex phenomenon, whose proper understanding still eludes us.
The emperor Leo III (717–741) supposedly initiated the first phase of Iconoclasm in the mid-720s, though the exact nature of his policy remains controversial and is hard to extract from iconophile polemic. As an official policy, it was reversed by the empress-regnant Eirene (780–797), who summoned the Ecumenical Council of 787 at Nicaea, reestablishing the traditional status of religious imagery and proclaiming the veneration of icons as an article of faith. The second phase of Iconoclasm was shorter: in 815, Leo V (813–820) reembraced it, but in 842 the Synod of Constantinople convoked by the empress-regent Theodora restored the cult of holy icons, and this was commemorated later as the Feast of Orthodoxy and the final defeat of Iconoclasm. If one reflects on the Iconoclastic controversy, relating it to the otherwise consistently ongoing iconophile tradition of the eastern Church, Iconoclasm seems to be no more than a passing hiatus. Yet it led to the crystallization of Orthodox theology and the self-identification of the eastern Church itself.
The theological arguments used by both sides early on in the controversy are not directly known to us. Possible lines of argumentation might be deduced from the letters of the prominent defender of icons and witness of the outburst of the controversy, Germanos, patriarch of Constantinople. In his writings one can find the centuries-old accusation of breaching Mosaic Law through worshiping artifacts, together with the Old Testament prohibition against images and arguments based on the impossibility of depicting invisible and spiritual realities such as the Godhead. Germanos’ defense was already essentially familiar, too. He denies that Christians ever worshiped created things: true worship is reserved for God alone. He also denies that there can be images of an invisible God, and stresses that images of Christ and the saints are meant to encourage people to follow them and praise God. His defense is based on the fact that Christ, like the Virgin and the other saints, can be pictured “in terms of the flesh.” The patriarch also points out that one should not accept the arguments directed against images by Jews and Muslims, who aim to destroy the Church. Icons belong to the ecclesiastical tradition and have never in fact been condemned by the Church.
Thus, when shortly after 730 John of Damascus came to the defense of icons, the question of images was not considered a Christological problem and there was no theology of icons sensu stricto. John saw that giving up icons was no small thing and would have immense theological consequences. It was John who turned the discussion of whether the use and veneration of religious imagery was in accordance with the Bible and Church tradition into a doctrinal issue of Christological and soteriological essence. And it was John who built the foundations of the theology of icons as we know it today.
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