“Icon Veneration” by Peter Pashkov
Peter Alekseevich Pashkov is a lecturer at the Orthodox Saint Tikhon’s University for the Humanities in the Department of Ancient Languages and Ancient Christian Literature. Recently, his community for the Defense of Orthodoxy in the Russian Church published an article in defense of the iconodulia in the pre-Nicene Orthodox Catholic Church. Below is that article translated into English.
Translator’s Note: Portions of the text marked with [t] indicate additions made by Kaleb of Atlanta
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It is true that the Seventh Ecumenical Council orders Orthodox Christians to venerate icons: “Anathema to those who do not accept holy and honorable icons with love! Anathema to those who call sacred icons idols! Anathema to those who say that Christians resort to icons as to gods!” [1] At the same time, Orthodox Christians explain their veneration of sacred images (or icons) by the fact that, by paying homage to the images of Christ and his saints, they thereby express their reverence for the images themselves: “because the honor given to an icon relates to its prototype, and he who worships an icon worships the hypostasis of what is depicted on it.” [2] A conscious refusal to venerate sacred images (the so-called aniconism) and the perception of them as idols places a Christian outside the framework of Orthodoxy (as well as Roman Catholicism). Our opponents claim that early Christianity is thus outside the bounds of Orthodoxy, as understood by the “Church after the 11th century.” This accusation seems serious and, at first glance, even justified. Nevertheless, there is much to discuss here, and the final conclusions, it seems to us, are far from unambiguous.
I. Icon veneration in the 4th century
First, it is important to note that there is virtually no room for doubt about the widespread veneration of sacred images in the “Constantinian” era, that is, after the Edict of Milan in 313 and the Council of Nicaea in 325. This practice spread very quickly and far beyond the Greco-Roman regions of the Christian world. Here are a few examples:
i. In our video about the veneration of relics, we already mentioned Saint Gregory of Nyssa and his remarkable description of the icon of Martyr Theodore the Recruit placed over his relics. We will risk reminding you:
“Whoever goes up to any place like this, where we have gathered today, where the memory of the righteous one is celebrated and where his holy remains are, he will, first of all, console his soul with the magnificence of what appears to his eyes, seeing this house as a temple of God, brightly decorated and grandeur of construction, and the splendor of decorations, where the carver gave the wood the appearance of various animals, and the stonemason brought the stone slabs to the smoothness of silver. And the painter decorated it with artificial flowers, depicting on the icon the valiant deeds of the martyr, his firm standing at the trial, the torments, the bestial faces of the tormentors, their violent actions, the furnace burning with flame, the most blessed end of the ascetic, the outline of the human image of the founder of the asceticism, Christ; Having skillfully depicted all this for us in paints, as if in some explanatory book, he clearly told the exploits of the martyr and brightly decorated the temple, like a flowering meadow (for painting can also silently speak on the walls and bring the greatest benefit).” [3]
In fact, Saint Gregory describes a completely traditional Orthodox icon with scenes depicting the exploits of Martyr Theodore inscribed on the wall above the martyr’s relics. The “human image” of Christ is also placed on the “icon.” Further, the saint also speaks of prayer before the relics (and, accordingly, the icon), addressed “as if to the living martyr himself.” It is difficult to imagine a picture that more obviously coincides with the modern practice of Orthodox piety and church life.
ii. In order not to burden the reader, we will not unnecessarily multiply examples of the veneration of sacred images in the 4th century. At the same time, we cannot help but point out the plethora of evidence associated with the image of the Savior kept in Edessa. Of course, within the framework of the polemic, we cannot appeal to the stories about the Image-Not-Made-By-Hands (Acheiropoieta [t]) sent to the King of Osroene, Abgar, as evidence of the existence of sacred images in the 1st century. Nevertheless, at the end of the 4th century, the image of the face of Christ was definitely already in Edessa and served as an object of veneration. We know that in 384, when the Gallic pilgrim Egeria visited Edessa, the objects of veneration in this city were the relics of the Apostle Thomas and the “letter of Christ to King Abgar” (apocryphal, of course), and the image did not yet figure among the most important shrines [4]. But already in the “Teaching of Addai,” a Syrian early Christian monument of the late 4th century, the story of the image of Christ is present, although the image is not called Not-Made-By-Hands (the story claims that the icon was created by the court painter of Abgar):
“When Hannan, the keeper of the archives, saw that Jesus spake thus to him, by virtue of being the king’s painter, he took and painted a likeness of Jesus with choice paints and brought with him to Abgar the king, his master. And when Abgar the king saw the likeness, he received it with great joy, and placed it with great honor in one of his palatial houses. Hannan, the keeper of the archives, related to him everything which he had heard from Jesus, as His words were put by him in writing.” [5]
What does this message allow us to understand? That at the end of the 4th century (probably after 384) there was a sacred image of Christ in Edessa. It was ancient — in any case, it could not have been recently created, otherwise it could not be spoken of as a relic from the time of the earthly life of the Savior. It was not considered not made by human hands, but was treated “with great honor,” that is, it was venerated.
At the end of the 4th century, an ancient sacred image of Christ was already venerated in Edessa.
iii. In order to demonstrate the remarkable unanimity of the Eastern and Western Christian worlds in regard to the veneration of sacred images, let us draw attention to the account of Egeria, whom we have already mentioned, about the veneration of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem:
“Then a chair is placed for the bishop in Golgotha behind the Cross, which is now standing; the bishop duly takes his seat in the chair, and a table covered with a linen cloth is placed before him; the deacons stand round the table, and a silver-gilt casket is brought in which is the holy wood of the Cross. The casket is opened and (the wood) is taken out, and both the wood of the Cross and the title are placed upon the table. Now, when it has been put upon the table, the bishop, as he sits, holds the extremities of the sacred wood firmly in his hands, while the deacons who stand around guard it. It is guarded thus because the custom is that the people, both faithful and catechumens, come one by one and, bowing down at the table, kiss the Sacred Wood and pass through. … And as all the people pass by one by one, all bowing themselves, they touch the Cross and the title, first with their foreheads and then with their eyes; then they kiss the Cross and pass through, but none lays his hand upon it to touch it.” [6]
The picture described by Egeria literally coincides with what we can see in any modern Orthodox Church when Christians approach the holy relic to kiss it. There is even a reference to a kiss as a form of veneration. At the same time, she, a pilgrim from Gaul, is not at all surprised or shocked by what is happening. She does not find it necessary to somehow further explain the phenomenon of kissing the Cross to her readers. In other words, for her, the spectacle of worshiping and kissing the Cross is not some kind of pagan relic, not a bizarre Eastern custom, but something natural.
v. And even those texts of the 4th century that our opponents perceive as favorable to their position, in fact, only confirm our conclusion. First of all, this applies to the texts whose author is considered to be Saint Epiphanius of Cyprus. We do not claim now to resolve the issue of the authenticity of the corpus of his “iconoclastic” works. Even if some of them are iconoclastic forgeries, most researchers recognize the authenticity of the “Testament” of Saint Epiphanius, as well as the Greek version of his letter to John of Jerusalem. But what do they tell us?
a.“What’s more, I heard some people murmuring against me: at the same time that I was hurrying to the holy place which is called Bethel, where I celebrated the synaxis with you out of ecclesiastical custom, I came to a village called Anablatha. As I was passing by there, I saw a lamp burning, and I asked what this place was, and I learned that it was a Church, and I entered and I prayed: I found there a veil hanging on the doors of that church, dyed and painted and having an image like Christ or one of his saints; I no longer recall whose image it was. So when I saw this, that they had hung an image of a person in a church of Christ against the authority of Scriptures, I ripped it down…” [7]
Certainly, this fragment speaks of St. Epiphanius’ rejection of sacred images. But on the other hand, we see that even in a small village, which is not particularly remarkable, the altar curtain (let us note, by the way, the fact of its presence) is sanctified by an image of Christ. Perhaps Saint Epiphanius was an opponent of icons, but at the end of the 4th century, he was doomed to find them even in the most remote corners of the Christian world, and this is perhaps more important for our study than the fact of criticism of this practice by the Cypriot saint.
b. From the “Testament” of St. Epiphanius:
“And in this matter, my beloved children, keep it in mind not to set up icons in Churches, or in the cemeteries of the saints, but always have God in your hearts through remembrance. Do not even have icons in private houses. For it is not permissible for the Christian to let his eyes wander or indulge in reveries.” [8]
This is probably the most indisputable of the fragments about icons attributed to Saint Epiphanius; there is no serious reason to doubt its authenticity. At the same time, several interesting features can be found here. Firstly, of course, the very fact of an attempt to prohibit the installation of new icons (and not even to remove existing ones, but only to prohibit new ones) in Churches, tombs, and homes only indicates that they were already there. Like modern Orthodox Christians, the Orthodox of the late 4th century kept icons at home and in Churches and prayed before them (why else would there be icons at home?).
Like modern Orthodox Christians, Christians of the late 4th century kept icons at home and in Churches and prayed before them.
Moreover, the motivation for removing icons from Churches is interesting. Saint Epiphanius no longer says that icons are idols, in contrast to the (supposed [t]) letter to John of Jerusalem, and does not consider them an “abomination.” His thoughts are of an ascetic nature: icons captivate the eye and are, therefore, bad. This can be compared with Saint Augustine’s attitude to Church music — the Latin saint, as is well known, considered Church singing dangerous for the soul since, carried away by the beauty of the melody, one can forget about the meaning of the chants [9]. Of course, such motivations are important and noble. But they can hardly have dogmatic significance.
vi. In fact, the full extent of the hopelessness of the struggle against sacred images in the Constantinian era can be shown by the example of the construction launched by the first Christian emperor:
“In his time Constantine Augustus built the following basilicas and adorned them: the Constantinian basilica, where he offered the following gifts: a ciborium of hammered silver, which has upon the front the Savior seated upon a chair, in height 5 feet, weighing 120 lbs., and also the 12 apostles, who weigh each ninety pounds and are 5 feet in height and wear crowns of purest silver; further, on the back, looking toward the apse are the Savior seated upon a throne in height 5 feet, of purest silver, weighing 140 lbs., and 4 angels of silver,” [10]
Summarizing the results of our observations, we can conclude that by the end of the 4th century, sacred images (primarily in the form of images of the Cross) were widespread throughout the Christian world to a greater or lesser extent. The Cross was kissed, people venerated it; icons were kept in homes, painted on Church curtains, and prayed before. Churches were decorated with statues of saints and of Christ Himself. Even texts of the era that were critical of these practices only prove how widespread and deep the veneration of icons had become in the 4th century. As soon as the Church found itself free and had the opportunity to build its own religious buildings and pious practices without fear of persecution, icon veneration flourished. Perhaps there were some prerequisites for this flourishing in an earlier era?
II. Sacred images in Judaism and early Christianity
Here we must make a small digression and quote an extensive passage from the work of Eliezer Lipa Sukenik, a distinguished Israeli archaeologist:
“The whole conception of the attitude of the Jews towards pictorial representations of living beings <…> needs to be revised. The letter of Ex. 20:4 and Deut. 5:8 may formally be read as a prohibition of all such images, and there has always been a school in Judaism which has interpreted it in this way. But it was evidently the intention of the Lawgiver, whose formulations here are not legally precise, to supplement this verse with the following and to prohibit solely the worship of images or the making of images for the purpose of worship. There has always been a less strict school in Judaism which has understood the matter in this way. Those who included in the canon the story of the decorations of Solomon’s temple (1 Samuel 6–7; 2 Chronicles 3–4) or of his throne (2 Chronicles 9), of the cherubim, bulls, and lions, could not find in it anything that could offend their religious feelings. Ezekiel’s vision of the rebuilt Temple includes the faces of cherubim, lions, and men as decorative motifs (Ezek. 41:18–20), and this fact also did not prevent the inclusion of this book in the canon. The famous Arch of Titus, which depicts the spoils of Herod’s Temple, shows us a seven-branched candelabrum decorated with sea horses in relief, etc. Animal images, both painted on the walls and in relief, are still a distinctive feature of Orthodox synagogues, although they have repeatedly aroused controversy. It may be assumed that in calmer times, when a more tolerant tendency prevailed, while crises and persecutions provoked a particularistic and rigorous reaction. … The only rational explanation for the situation in the ancient synagogues is that in Jewish history the visual arts have had their ups and downs: periods of greater indulgence were followed by reaction. The synagogues of Palestine provide us with particularly valuable evidence both of the tolerance that once prevailed there and of the subsequent reaction against this tolerance. …
As we have seen, synagogues that had been abandoned before a certain date, such as those of Jerash and Beth Alpha, escaped this fate. As for Chorazin, where most of the sculptures have been preserved in their original state, we have the unambiguous statement of Eusebius and Jerome that at the time they lived in Palestine it was already uninhabited; and so the fourth century can be considered the starting point for the reaction against sculpture. On the other hand, the mosaic of Beth Alpha, with its zodiac and seasons, as well as its depiction of the sacrifice of Isaac, was already laid out in the sixth century, and the latter date can be considered the end point of the reaction against this genre of art. The latter circumstance suggests that a factor which contributed to the final expulsion of human and animal motifs from the synagogues of Palestine may have been the influence of the iconoclastic movement which began among the Monophysite Christians of the Near East at about this time and which also left its traces in the broken church mosaics. The conquest of these lands by the Arabs, the bearers of a religion clearly hostile to the depiction of living beings, could, of course, only have strengthened this influence of the environment.” ( Sukenik EL Ancient Synagogues in Palestine and Greece. L., 1934. P. 63)
The whole concept of the Jewish attitude towards pictorial images of living beings needs to be revised.
In other words, the traditional narrative of the aniconism of the early Christians, based on the idea of the aniconism of the Jewish religion, is simply wrong. Intertestamental Judaism was not fundamentally hostile to the idea of sacred images, and Christians could not have taken this idea from Judaism.
III. The Cross as a Sign of Christ
We have already seen that Judaism of the “intertestamental” era, if it did not have a ready-made mass practice of making sacred images, then, firstly, it was not necessarily and fundamentally hostile to it, and secondly, it had within itself the prerequisites for its emergence. Already in the 3rd century, Jews were making sacred images. At the same time, they definitely arose among the first Christians (we will talk about this later). However, the very fact of the presence of sacred images does not yet imply icon veneration since icon veneration presupposes, in fact, not only the existence of an icon but also, in fact, its veneration; “For the honor which is paid to the image passes on to that which the image represents, and he who reveres the image reveres in it the subject represented.” [11]
Can we speak of a veneration of sacred images that would correspond to this principle before the 4th century? It seems so, although the first of such venerated images is, strictly speaking, not quite an icon. The primary form of the Christian sacred image is the Cross, painted, made of wood, or made as the sign of the Cross. Why can we speak of the veneration of the Cross as the primary form of icon veneration (or, more generally, of the veneration of a sacred image)?
In order to understand this, we need to understand the concept of a “sign” (signum, σημεῖον). A sign, according to the now classic definition of Yu. M. Lotman, “is a materially expressed replacement of objects, phenomena, concepts in the process of exchanging information in a group ” [12]. In other words, a sign is something that represents the designated object, indicates its presence, in a sense replaces it. An icon is in a sense such a sign: it indicates the presence of Christ and represents His presence in worship and prayer. In fact, this is why “the honor given to the icon ” and “refers to its prototype ”: the prototype is designated by the image, the image points to the prototype. But what was the Cross for the first Christians? We find the answer to this question in extremely early texts dating back to the beginning and middle of the 2nd century. Already the “Epistle of Barnabas” (written, as is known, no later than 130–132) contains an indication that the Cross “has grace”: “The Cross, like the letter “tau” was to have grace ” (σταυρὸς ἐν τῷ ταῦ ἤμελλεν ἔχειν τὴν χάριν)[13]. Why? Because, as Martyr Justin the Philosopher points out in his Apology (153), “the Cross, as the prophet predicted, is the greatest symbol of the power and authority of Christ.” [14] The Cross has grace as a symbol denoting the presence of the power and authority of Christ. Of course, the power and authority of Christ cannot be thought of separately from Christ Himself, and therefore the Cross is a sign of Christ Crucified, His representation, an indication of His presence. In fact, this is precisely why the Apostle Paul, who called upon “those who boast to boast in the Lord ” (1 Cor. 1:31), at the same time emphasized that “he does not wish to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ ” (Gal. 6:14). For the Apostle, boasting in the Cross and boasting in Christ meant the same thing. The Cross was a sign of Christ.
Further support for this idea is the fact that the first known depiction of the Cross is not simply the sign of the Cross, but the so-called “staurogram”. The staurogram (⳨) is present in some of the oldest New Testament papyri [15] in the word “Cross” (σταυρός). It was common practice for copyists to use special abbreviations for writing sacred names (nomina sacra): “Lord” (κύριος), “Christ” (Χριστός), “God” (θεός), “Jesus” (Ἰησοῦς) and, properly speaking, “Cross” (σταυρός). As a rule, words were abbreviated to the first and last letters (κς, χς); a line was drawn over the letters. The point, of course, was not to save the copyist time and effort, but to express reverence for the phenomena designated by the nomina sacra. However, when the word σταυρός was used as a nomen sacrum, it was not abbreviated to two letters — it was represented by the staurogram (⳨). The symbol (⳨) is made up of two Greek letters, tau (Τ) and rho (Ρ), but what is important here, as the researchers note, is the resulting image. The staurogram is a kind of stick figure drawing that visually represents a man hanging on a cross. The closed loop at the top is his head. As L. Hurtado, a professor at the University of Edinburgh, notes, “this means that historians of early Christian art must reconsider the generally accepted ideas about when we can date the earliest visual references to the crucified Jesus ” [16]. It should be said that the writing of the names “Jesus” and “Christ” as nomina sacra on a par with “Lord” and “God” is perceived by researchers as a sign that in early Christianity the Divinity of Christ the Savior was recognized [17]; but since this is so, then the writing of σταυρός as a “sacred word” allows us to speak of the veneration of the Cross as a sacred relic, as a “sign of Christ.”
IV. The Cross in Worship and Prayer
It seems that after all that has been said above, our initial thesis can be considered quite plausible: the Cross, already in the 2nd-3rd centuries, became precisely a “sacred image.” It denoted Christ and served as His sign. Due to this, we can also speak of a certain “veneration” of the Cross, evident from the spelling of the word σταυρός itself on a par with the words θεός, κύριος, or Χριστός as a nomen sacrum. But still, an icon is not just a sacred and revered image; it is an image that is used in prayer, worship, and personal piety. Did the Cross figure in this capacity in the spiritual life of the early Christians? Evidence of the prayerful use of the sign of the Cross can be divided into two categories — evidence of the sign of the cross and evidence of the veneration of the Cross itself.
i. The sign of the Cross. At first glance, it is not entirely obvious how the sign of the Cross is connected at all with the question of the veneration of sacred images, but it seems to us that considering the available evidence will enable us to understand why we consider these questions to be connected.
The earliest Latin-language evidence of the sign of the Vross belongs to Tertullian and is found in his treatise “De corona” (208–212):
“At every forward step and movement, at every going in and out, when we put on our clothes and shoes, when we bathe, when we sit at table, when we light the lamps, on couch, on seat, in all the ordinary actions of daily life, we trace upon the forehead the sign (signaculo).” [18]
Origen (1st half of the 3rd century) also reports on this practice in a similar way, and he refers to one of the earlier authors whose works have not reached us:
“A third, one of those who have come to faith in Christ, said that in the old-style letters, Tau resembles the form of the Cross (τοῦ σταυροῦ χαρακτῆρι), and that there is a prophecy here concerning the sign placed on the foreheads of Christians — which all believers make when beginning any activity at all, especially prayer or holy readings.” [19]
In other words, by the beginning of the 3rd century, by the time of the works of Tertullian and Origen, the sign of the Cross was already by no means a new and well-established custom. It was not new either for the author to whom Origen refers. The history of the sign of the Cross goes back to the depths of the 2nd century after the birth of Christ, to the immediate vicinity of the apostolic era.
What significance did the first Christians attach to the sign of the Cross? This is clearly stated in the liturgical monument of the ancient Church — the so-called “Apostolic Tradition” (earlier, it was mistakenly attributed to Saint Hippolytus of Rome). According to researchers, the instruction on the sign of the Cross in this work dates back to the 3rd century:
“Always take care to make the sign of the cross on your forehead with reverence. For this sign of the Passion is clear and established against the devil, if you make it with faith, not to be seen by men, but through knowledge, presenting it as an armor. For when the tempter sees the power coming from the heart of man, clearly manifested in the likeness of the ablution, he will flee, trembling.” [20]
Thus, the sign of the Cross is a “sign against the devil.” The depiction of the Cross with the hand on the forehead had, according to the early Christians, an apotropaic function — it could drive away demons. In other words, the power of Christ acted through the depiction of the Cross (it is obvious that demons can only be driven out by the power of God). The Cross not only pointed to Christ, but also represented Him; demons gave the depicted Cross the same honor as they did God — and before God, demons “believe and tremble ” (James 2:19), and they ran from the Cross, “trembling,” Christians of the 2nd-3rd centuries depicted the Cross on their foreheads, hoping in this way to partake of the power of Christ and drive away demons. All this means that:
a. the image of the Cross was sacred to them, and they revered it,
b. They thus honored Christ and believed that by doing so, they would become partakers of Christ.
ii. Veneration of the Cross as an object:
One of the earliest testimonies to the veneration of the Cross as a wooden object we find in the same Tertullian, in his apology “Ad Nationes” (after 197):
“He who calls us devotees of the Cross (crucis antistites) shall be our fellow devotee (consacerdos). In its essence the Cross is a wooden symbol. You also honor (colitis) an image of wood, but for you that wood represents the human form, while for us the wood speaks for itself. Forget about the actual shape as long as the essence is wood; same for the form as long as the wood represents the form of a god. But if a distinction is to be made, what is the difference between a wooden cross on the one hand and a shapeless wooden strip representing Pallas Athena or Pharian Ceres on the other hand? Any piece of wood planted upright in the ground is part of a Cross and indeed the larger part of a Cross. But we Christians are credited with an entire Cross complete with a transverse beam and a projecting seat (sedilis excessu). You are all the more to be condemned because you present a deformed and roughhewn chunk of wood while others consecrate (consecrauerunt) a full and finished offering.” [21]
So Christians “consecrate” the wood of the Cross; they are “devotees of the Cross” — a charge Tertullian does not deny! In the context of all we already know about Christian attitudes toward the Cross, this should not be surprising. After all, if they treated a Cross made with a finger on their forehead with such reverence, should not a Cross made of wood be held in greater esteem?
Christians at the beginning of the 3rd century considered wooden images of the Cross to be sacred.
Another testimony about the veneration of the Cross by Christians we encounter again in a polemical context. The Book of John, the sacred scripture of the Gnostic ethnoreligion of the Mandaeans, a people-community whose presence in Mesopotamia has been recorded since the 3rd century, contains a polemic against the veneration of the Cross by Christians:
“They nail the Cross to the wall, then stand up and bow to the piece of wood. Let me warn you, my brothers, against the God that the carpenter made.” [22]
This description helps us to understand why Christians were, for Tertullian’s opponents, “devotees of the Cross” — they literally venerated this wooden image. This is a third-century practice, and perhaps even earlier (if criticism of it had already become widespread by Tertullian’s time). But what was the theology behind this veneration?
In the Syrian Martyrdom of Saints Hyperichius (Hipparchus), Philotheus, Jacob (James [t]), Habib, Julian, Romanus, and Paregonius, who suffered in 307–308, it is said:
“In the house of this Hyperichius, they had a conveniently arranged locked room. On its eastern wall, they depicted the Cross. In this room, they worshiped the Lord Jesus Christ seven times a day before the image of the Cross, turning their faces to the East… When Hyperichius and Philotheus began to assert that in this way, they worshiped the Most High Creator of the world, Jacob asked: ‘Do you really think that this wooden Cross was the Creator of the world? For we see that you serve it.’ Hyperichius [answered] him: ‘We worship the One who hung on the Cross.’” [23]
Although the Martyrdom was “in all probability composed by a direct eyewitness” [24], it also contains traces of editing that took place in the period after the Council of Nicaea (the words of the Nicene Creed were put into the mouths of the martyrs). Nevertheless, the veneration of the Cross occupies an important place in the actual sequence of events of the Martyrdom, so the message about the very presence of the image of the Cross and the veneration before it can be considered entirely authentic and dating back to the “pre-Constantine” era. [25] The theological justification given to the practice of veneration before the Cross coincides with the theology of the icon of the Seventh Ecumenical Council: the martyrs venerate Christ before the Cross, that is, the honor given to the Cross as an image of the Savior’s sacrifice pertains to the “reveres in it the subject represented.” A similar testimony is contained in the “History of John, the son of Zebedee,” a Syrian apocrypha from the turn of the 4th-5th centuries:
“And when they had ceased speaking, Saint John sprang up, stood up, and made a sign to them with his hand that they should be silent; and he took out the Cross which was about his neck, and looked at it, and put it to his eyes, and kissed it. Then he wept, and stretched out his right hand, and made the sign of the Cross over the whole assembly, and placed the Cross on the highest row of seats, which was the easternmost of all, and set the lamps before it.
And they cried out with a loud voice and said, ‘O servant of Jesus, explain to us what this is that you have done to us.’ And the saint gave them a sign and they were silent; and he began to speak and said, ‘Beloved children, who have been conquered by the Gospel! This is the Cross of the Son of God, who was ever with His Father. He created these heavens and these stars which are in the heavens, and on Him depend all His creatures. And I have made this Cross a stronghold for you, that Satan may not come and gather his demons and instill in you sleep or carelessness of mind.’ And they cried out, ‘This night is a day for us, for now, life has come near us.’ And they consoled one another.
And when they were silent, all the people fled; and when they fled, they turned their backs to the West and fell prostrate before the Cross, facing the East, and wept, and said: ‘We adore Thee, Son of God, hanged on the tree.’ And the procurator lay prostrate before the Cross.” [26]
Despite the work's relatively late origin, most of the statements we see here are already known from the texts we cited above: they bow before the Cross, the Cross is a defense against the devil, and they bless with the Cross to protect against demonic temptations. At the same time, the worship of the Cross is the worship of Christ Himself Crucified—we encountered this idea in the legend of the Samosata Martyrs.
“…they fell prostrate before the Cross, turning to the East, and wept, and said: ‘We worship Thee, Son of God, hanged on a tree.’…”
Let us try to summarize what has been said about the Cross. For Christians of the 2nd-3rd centuries, the Cross was a sacred image, a sign of Christ’s power, pointing to Christ Himself. The Cross and the sign of the cross “had grace”; through them, according to the saints of that era, the power of God acted, casting out demons. This set of ideas already presupposes icon veneration and contains it as a necessary consequence. But in the 3rd century, it seems, the veneration of the Cross in the direct, “iconic” sense also appeared — people bowed before the image of the Cross, perceiving this veneration as worship of Christ Himself, Whom this sacred sign represented. This can be considered the beginning of icon veneration proper.
V. Other sacred images in the pre-Nicene period
Even the most stubborn opponent of icon veneration cannot fail to admit that early Christianity was not iconoclastic. Already at the beginning of the 3rd century, frescoes depicting Christ in the symbolic image of the Good Shepherd, as well as the Virgin Mary with the Child, appeared in the catacombs. Moreover, in the famous Church in Dura-Europos (233–256), there are already frescoes with direct biblical scenes: Christ saves the drowning Peter and heals the paralytic; probably, there is also a depiction of the Annunciation. [27] Both symbolic and biblical images existed and were familiar to early Christians. Radical aniconism, evidence of which we find in the texts of some ancient authors (we will talk about this below), did not reflect the reality of the life of the ancient Church, at least from the beginning of the 3rd century.
However, our opponent does not deny the fact that early Christians had images of the sacred. He denies that these images were sacred to them—that early Christians venerated them. Using the example of the Cross and the sign of the cross, we have seen that here, too, the opponent is mistaken: such veneration existed. But can we talk about the veneration of any other images?
The first evidence that suggests that sacred images may have existed among the early Christians (they may have existed, this kind of indirect evidence does not give strict results) is critical evidence, coming, however, from unorthodox authors. The Acts of John (dated to the middle of the 2nd century), written under significant Gnostic influence, includes the following episode:
“And so a large crowd gathered for John. And while he was talking with those present, Lycomedes, who had a friend — a talented painter, ran to him and said to him: ‘You see, I myself have broken out to you. Go quickly to my home and whomever I show you, paint him so that he does not know.’ The artist, having handed someone the tools and paints he needed, said to Lycomedes: ‘Show him to me, and do not worry about the rest.’ And Lycomedes, having shown John to the artist, brought him closer and, having locked him in one of the rooms from where the apostle of Christ was visible, himself remained with the blessed one, enjoying faith and knowledge of our God. And most of all, he rejoiced because he would have him in his portrait.
So the artist, having made a sketch on the first day, went away. And the next day he painted it with wax paints and so gave the portrait to the joyful Lycomedes. Having placed it in his room, he decorated it with a wreath so that later John, understanding, said to him: ‘My beloved child, what are you doing, coming from the bath to your room alone? Do I not pray with you and the other brothers? Or are you hiding from us?’ Speaking thus and joking with him, he enters the room and sees a portrait of an old man decorated with a wreath, with lamps on either side and altars in front of him. And, calling him, he said: ‘Lycomedes, what does this portrait mean to you? Which of your gods is painted here? For I see that you still live in a pagan manner.’ Lycomedes answered him: ‘I have only one God — He who raised me from death together with my spouse. And if, besides God, people can be called gods — our benefactors, then it is you, painted in the picture, whom I decorate with a wreath, kiss, and honor as the one who became a good guide for me.’
John, who had never seen his own face, said to him: ‘You are making fun of me, child. Is this my appearance? (In the name) of your Lord, how is it that you convince me that this portrait resembles me?’ Then Lycomedes brought him a mirror. And seeing himself in the mirror and looking at the portrait, he said: ‘As long as my Lord Jesus Christ lives, the portrait resembles me! But not me, child, but my physical ghost.’” [28]
Certainly, this text contains a criticism of the practice of venerating sacred images; at the same time, the criticism could not have arisen without the practice itself. The Acts of John had a strong Gnostic tendency. It speaks of the crucifixion of Christ in the following way: “And it is not I who am on the cross, whom you do not now see, but only hear a voice. They considered me to be what I am not, for I am not what I am for the majority, but what they call me is base and unworthy of me. Therefore, if the place of rest is invisible and ineffable, then all the more can I, its Lord, neither be seen *nor spoken*. And *not* a uniform crowd around the Cross is a lower nature. And those whom you see on the Cross, since they do not have a uniform appearance, are not yet all gathered — the members of the one who came down.” [29] This is an openly docetic text, denying the reality of the crucifixion and the very incarnation of Christ. Its author also implicitly criticizes the veneration of the Cross: “And when Wisdom is in harmony, then there is right and left: powers, authorities, principles, demons, actions, punishments, wraths, slanders, Satan and the root of hell, from which the nature of everything that is becoming originated. So this Cross, which established everything by the Word and separated everything that has birth and the lower, and then poured itself into everything, is not the wooden Cross that you will see when you come down from here.” [30] Of course, a Docetist Gnostic will also criticize images of saints. But if he puts into the mouth of the apostle a condemnation of such an image and its veneration (veneration with flowers, candles, performing a prayer before it), this may mean that such veneration already existed among Christians (as opposed to the Docetist Gnostics).
The second example is somewhat more obvious. In one of his later works, written after his conversion to Montanism, Tertullian criticizes the practice of accepting repentant adulterers into church communion. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church, which allowed this practice, cited the book The Shepherd of Hermas to justify the possibility of such repentance, and so Tertullian caustically remarks:
“But I would yield my ground to you, if the scripture of ‘the Shepherd,’ which is the only one which favors adulterers, had deserved to find a place in the Divine canon; if it had not been habitually judged by every council of Churches (even of your own) among apocryphal and false (writings); itself adulterous, and hence a patroness of its comrades; from which in other respects, too, you derive initiation; to which, perchance, that “Shepherd,” will play the patron whom you depict upon your chalice, (depict, I say, as) himself withal a prostitutor of the Christian sacrament, (and hence) worthily both the idol of drunkenness and the brize of adultery by which the chalice will quickly be followed…” [31]
From this reasoning, if we leave aside Tertullian’s rigorism, we learn that the hierarchs of the Catholic Church in the first half of the 3rd century decorated the Eucharistic cup with an image of the Shepherd. There is no need to guess what they wanted to say: it was an image of Christ in the form of the Good Shepherd. The cup of the Body and Blood of Christ was distinguished from other cups by the image of Christ. And, of course, the functions of such an image are no longer purely ornamental — it was directly included in the most important Christian worship and is associated with the Eucharist.
Finally, St. Methodius of Olympus speaks directly about the veneration of God through sacred images (images of angels) in the 3rd century:
“For instance, then, the images of our kings here, even though they be not formed of the more precious materials — gold or silver — are honored by all. For men do not, while they treat with respect those of the far more precious material, slight those of a less valuable, but honor every image in the world, even though it be of chalk or bronze. And one who speaks against either of them is not acquitted as if he had only spoken against clay, nor condemned for having despised gold, but for having been disrespectful towards the king and lord himself. The images of God’s angels, which are fashioned of gold, the principalities and powers, we make to His honor and glory.” [32]
VI. A few words about the opponent’s argumentation
i. In a number of cases, the opponent simply handles the quotations incorrectly. Probably, sometimes the translation he used lets him down, but sometimes the situation cannot be explained by anything other than inattention or dishonesty. Let us give two examples.
a. The opponent quotes Tertullian: “If He forbids any images to be made, then all the more so — casts of His image. The author of truth does not like perversions; any sculpture in His eyes is a fake” [33] (On Spectacles, Chapter 23).
It would seem that (this is [t]) “the end of all saints and Orthodoxy,” a direct denial of any image of God! But one only has to look at the text itself, and it becomes obvious that the respected opponent is not treating us very fairly. Here is what Tertullian writes (we highlight in bold the place that corresponds — in another translation — to the quote of our opponent):
“Do you also think that the use of masks is approved by God? I ask: if all kinds of idols and likenesses are forbidden to us, will He not punish us even more severely for the fact that we disfigure His image? No! The author of truth cannot approve of anything false. He considers as a kind of adultery everything that we change in His creation. Condemning every kind of pretense, will He pardon the comedian who fakes his voice, his age, his sex, pretends to be in love or angry, sheds false tears or sighs falsely?” [34]
This fragment has nothing to do with images — icons — depicting God; it speaks of actors and how they unworthily change themselves and the image of God in themselves. But alas, the opponent took the quote out of context (or copied it from a ready-made selection of quotes against icons — then he did not take anything out of context, but somehow he is woefully incompetent).
([t] The ancient Church’s opposition to masks as a means of changing one’s visage is demonstrated further in Canon 62 of the Sixth Ecumenical Council:
“…decreeing that no man from this time forth shall be dressed as a woman, nor any woman in the garb suitable to men. Nor shall he assume comic, satyric, or tragic masks;”
There’s no need to presume that Tertullian was referring to painted images when there exists explicit canonical mention that masks are prohibited while there exists no explicit mention that images of the Savior or the Saints are forbidden. [t])
b. Another example is found in our opponent’s citation of Book VII of Origen’s Against Celsus:
“Celsus says that Christians cannot bear temples, altars or images … It is impossible to simultaneously know God and address prayers to images.”
We will discuss Origen’s argument in more detail below (and about the argument), but for now, we will note that the translation used by our opponent (probably a translation from English?) makes the text look much more “iconoclastic” than it actually is. Indeed, our opponent’s Origen attributes to Christians an aversion to “images.” However, the original says that Christians do not accept ἀγάλματα. Theoretically, this word can mean “image” in general, but its main meaning is statues, and specifically statues of pagan gods. In other words, according to Origen, it is not images that Christians are opposed to, but rather cult statues.
ii. Our opponent refers to the statements of a number of authors of the first centuries (in particular, Origen, Arnobius, and Minucius Felix), who claimed that Christians had “neither temples, nor altars, nor images, nor incense.” However, we know quite definitely that in the third century, when many of these authors wrote, Christians had both temples and altars. In fact, the two oldest surviving Christian Churches serve as living proof that the words of these writers cannot be taken literally.
We have already spoken about Churches — wasn’t the temple in Dura-Europos a Church? During excavations in 2005 in Megiddo, a Church was discovered that was built in the 230s and abandoned in 305 due to persecution. A mosaic was found in it that reads: “The God-loving Aceptus brought this table (τράπεζαν) to God Jesus Christ for commemoration.” “Table” (or more precisely, “holy table” ἱερὰ τράπεζα) is still the Greek name for the altar on which the Eucharist is celebrated in Orthodox Churches. In other words, Aceptus, probably a wealthy man, donated the Holy See to the Church at Megiddo, and obviously a particularly decorated one at that, otherwise there would have been no point in bringing it as a gift to the temple, let alone leaving an expensive mosaic inscription about it. For this, he was to be remembered at the service. Consequently, the Christians in Origen’s time had both temples and altars. Unless Arnobius, Minucius Felix and Origen were engaging in wishful thinking (i.e., claiming that Christians had no temples and altars simply because they wished they had none), we must conclude that we are simply misunderstanding them. Christians did not have temples like the pagans; Christians did not have altars like the pagans, with bloody sacrifices and slaughtered animals. Accordingly, the only images Christians did not have were those of the pagans.
iii. This consideration brings us closer to the next point of our argument. The opponent cites a number of texts in which early Christian apologists criticize the worship of images — but they do so almost always in the context of polemics with paganism. Let us suppose that Clement of Alexandria does act as an aniconist when he writes that “works of art cannot be considered sacred and divine” since “they forever remain lifeless, material and do not contain anything holy.” [35] However, he voices this reasoning in the context of polemics with the pagan idea of the divine; we do not know and cannot know what Clement would have said about the image of the incarnate Christ (one can assume that he would have condemned it too, due to his Platonic inclinations — but only assume).
Early Christian apologists criticize image worship almost exclusively in the context of polemics with paganism (but do not say a word about Christian iconodulia [t]).
The validity of our observation is demonstrated by the second ardent aniconist from the opponent’s florilegium. Tertullian, of course, says that “every picture or image depicting anything should be considered an idol.” [36] But this categorical statement, if taken literally, of course, contradicts the reality of Church life at the beginning of the 3rd century — both the temple in Dura-Europos and the Roman catacombs are full of “pictures and images” of various kinds. Surely the Roman Christian community was not entirely idolatrous? The point here, however, is that the treatise “On Idolatry,” quoted by the opponent, belongs to the number of Tertullian’s “Montanist” works. But in a somewhat earlier work — the treatise “Against Marcion” — the North African apologist reasons somewhat more subtly:
“In the same way, when He forbids the making of the likeness of everything that is in heaven, on earth, and in the water, He also explains the reasons [that limit the means of idolatry]. For He adds: “Do not bow down to them, nor serve them.” Now, the image of the brazen serpent, which the Lord subsequently commanded Moses to make, does not refer to what falls under the definition of idolatry but to the healing of those who were afflicted by serpents. And I say nothing about the image of this remedy. So also, the golden Cherubim and Seraphim (served) to give symbolism to the Ark, being, undoubtedly, a simple ornament. They, being intended for something high, had reasons entirely different from the requirements of idolatry, because of which the making of an image is prohibited; they obviously do not oppose the law that prohibits an image, not having that property of images because of which they are prohibited.” [37]
Moreover, further in the text of the work, Tertullian also argues that sacrifices, condemned by God when they are offered to false deities, become a matter of virtue when they are offered to the true Lord:
“We have spoken of the institution of sacrifices in accordance with reason, namely, that which tears away from the idols, redirecting to God, those rites which, if He rejected again, saying: “Why do I need the multitude of your sacrifices?” — (then He rejected it because) He wanted it to be understood that He did not demand them for Himself personally. For “I will not drink,” He says, “the blood of bulls” (cf. Is. 1:11), — for in another place He declares: “The Eternal God neither hungers nor thirsts” … For even if He condescended to the offerings of Abel and willingly inhaled (the smell of) Noah’s burnt offering, then what (was) the pleasure in the entrails of rams or in the smoke of burning sacrifices? But the simple and God-fearing soul of those who offered Him what they received from Him, both food and sweet fragrance, acquired favor in the sight of God, who demands not what was done, but what was done for the sake of which it was done, namely, (that it happen) because of the worship of God. If a dependent person brings a rich man or a king who needs nothing, however, some insignificant gift, will the rich man and the king be upset by the quantity and quality of the offering, or will he be pleased by the expression of devotion?” [38]
So, if the “late Tertullian” finds it possible to call “any picture” an idol, then in the more sensible period of his work, he quite clearly articulates the key consideration — in fact, it is not “pictures” that are prohibited, but idolatry; not images, but the worship of false gods (or material objects as gods). The prohibition does not apply at all to images made by the will of the true God.
iv. In fact, Tertullian’s logic in the book “Against Marcion” corresponds to the reasoning of Saint John of Damascus in his apology for the veneration of icons:
“For it must be known, beloved, that in every deed truth and falsehood are sought, and the purpose of him who does it, whether it be good or bad . For although in the Gospel are depicted God, and an angel, and man, and heaven, and earth, and water, and fire, and air, and the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and light, and darkness, and Satan, and the demon, and serpents, and scorpions, and death, and hell, and virtues, and vices, and everything both good and bad; yet, since everything said about them is true and has as its purpose the glory of God and the saints glorified by Him, also our salvation and the overthrow and shame of the devil and his demons, then we worship, and embrace, and kiss, and greet with eyes, and lips, and heart; Likewise, [we give honor] to the whole Old and New Testament and to the words of the holy and excellent Fathers. But the shameful, disgusting, and unclean writings of the damned: both Manichaeans, and Greeks, and other heresies, as containing that which is false and vain, and as invented for the glory of the devil and his demons and for their joy, we reject with contempt and cast away from ourselves, even though they contain [in themselves] the name of God.
Therefore, in the matter of images, we must seek both the truth and the purpose of those who make them. And if it is true and right, and if the images are made for the glory of God and His saints, and for the emulation of virtue, and the avoidance of vice, and the salvation of souls, then we must accept them with joy and honor them as images, and imitations, and likenesses, and books for the illiterate, and worship them, and kiss them, and greet them with eyes, and lips, and heart, as the likeness of the incarnate God, or His Mother, or the saints, participants in the sufferings and glory of Christ, and victors, and destroyers of the devil, and demons, and their error.” [39]
Indeed, the veneration of the icon of Christ is not idolatry precisely because Christians who venerate this icon do not — worship — any — idols. They do not worship Zeus, nor Krishna, nor Quetzalcoatl. The image of the Cross or Crucifixion is created for the glory of Christ; by bowing before the Crucifixion or Cross, as the Samosata martyrs did, a Christian relates his worship not to a tree, but to the Divine-Human Person who accepted terrible expiatory torments for our sins. To consider such a bowing of the head before the Cross by a reverent Christian to be sinful is possible only from a legalistic, completely pharisaical spirit, which considers “pictures” to be something like ritual filth that stains a person, regardless of his heart’s mood and intentions.
The veneration of the icon of Christ is not idolatry because Christians who venerate this icon do not worship any idols.
v. Finally, it would not be superfluous to say a few words about our opponent’s criticism of the Seventh Ecumenical Council.
Our opponent reports that at the iconoclastic Council of Hieria in 754, there was “almost the entire Byzantine episcopate, numbering 338 people.” This is true. However, what makes the Council Ecumenical is not the number of Byzantine bishops, but the representation of the Universal Church. The Council of Hieria in no way represented the opinion of the Universal Church, since it was an assembly exclusively of Byzantine bishops, without the participation of representatives of Rome or the Christian East: “How is it Great and Ecumenical when the primates of the other Churches did not accept it or agree with it, but on the contrary, anathematized it? It did not have as its accomplice in this matter the then Pope of Rome, or the priests who replaced him, his representatives, or his encyclical letter, as is required by law from such councils. Nor were the Eastern patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and the Holy City of one mind with it, nor were their fellow-celebrants the bishops.” [40]
Accusations against the Seventh Ecumenical Council of 787 of being “politicized” are frankly ridiculous in the context of such a benevolent attitude towards the meeting of 754, where the Patriarch was not present at all, and Emperor Constantine V completely dominated. The sources said the same about the patriarchs of the iconoclastic era: “In these same unfortunate days, the impious Anastasius seized the episcopacy with an impious hand, by military force, and not by the decision of God’s piety — and he gave everything of the Church to the royal court.” [41] At the council of 754 itself, the emperor personally led the ordination of the iconoclastic Patriarch Constantine. This is how the sources speak about it: “[The Emperor] took him into the Church, not by the will of God and the priests, but by his own malice, and when they both ascended the pulpit, the unholy Constantine is clothed in the vile diploid and omophorion from the hands of Emperor Constantine… and the tyrant himself had previously proclaimed “He is Worthy!” Oh, the unworthiness! The shield-bearer — the establisher of the priesthood, spending his time in wars and murders — the priest, and the one who illegally cohabited with three wives became the ordainer of priests! Who has ever heard such a thing, or seen, or proclaimed it? Truly no one.” [42] Can one accuse iconodules of being politicized after this? At least Empress Irene did not dress the Patriarch in sacred vestments right in the middle of the church!
As for the West and the Western part of the Church, it was not the Western part of the Church that rejected the Seventh Ecumenical Council, but the episcopate of the Frankish kingdom, which was also under the strongest influence of political power. The Roman bishop, who traditionally acted as the representative of Latin Christianity at the Ecumenical Councils, was always the first defender of icon veneration, beginning with the time of Emperor Leo the Isaurian, and did not reject the Council of 787. The words once spoken by Pope Pelagius about the schismatics who did not accept the Fifth Ecumenical Council are applicable to the Frankish iconoclasts:
“I ask: was there, as [the schismatics] themselves think, at any of those Ecumenical (generalibus) Councils which we honor, any “Patriarch of Histria and Venice?” Or perhaps he sent legates? If they cannot show this in any way and have no evidence, then let them understand that they themselves not only are not the Ecumenical Church (generalis Ecclesia), but they cannot even be called part of the Ecumenical Church, unless they are numbered among the members of Christ, reunited with the Apostolic Sees and freed from their dry branches.” [43]
Conclusion
Let us try to briefly outline the results of our apologetic research.
In our opinion, already in the 2nd century, one can observe a special reverent attitude towards the Cross as a sign, a symbol of Christ’s power and authority. This perception of the Cross has its support in the Holy Scripture: in the Apostle Paul the Cross appears as a symbol representing Christ and even as if “replacing” Him in his statements.
Already at the beginning of the 3rd century, we find direct evidence of the veneration of the depicted Cross: in the form of the sign of the cross (that is, the image of the Cross with the hand on the forehead of a Christian), the Cross was a sign of the presence of Christ, terrible for demons, and as a wooden sign the Cross was “sacred” for Christians. Among Gnostic sects and pagan polemicists, Christians already in the 3rd century, apparently, could be criticized for worshiping the Cross. At the end of the pre-Nicene era, at the turn of the 3rd-4th centuries, not only the practice of venerating the Cross is recorded, but also, probably, its theological justification: venerating the Cross is, in fact, worship of Christ Crucified. This explanation actually represents a brief outline of the future veneration of icons.
Iconographic images proper (apart from the Cross — although it, in its primary form, was depicted using the “staurogram,” a pictogram of the Crucifixion) also appeared among Christians no later than the first half of the 3rd century. It is more difficult to talk about the veneration of such images, but it is still impossible not to note that the criticism from early Christian apologists was almost exclusively directed at images of false gods.
The veneration of icons, as proclaimed by the Seventh Ecumenical Council, is a reverent and pious Christian custom, which can only be condemned from the point of view of legalistic ritualism.
[1] DVS. Vol. 7. P. 293.
[2] Ibid. P. 285.
[3] Gregory of Nyssa, Saint. Eulogy to the Great Martyr Theodore Tyrone // Works of Saint Gregory of Nyssa. Moscow, 1871. Part 8. Pp. 201–203
Russian link: https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Grigorij_Nisskij/pohvalnoe_slovo_Feodoru/
Other English translations render:
“Should a person come to a place similar to our assemble today where the memory of the just and the rest of the saints is present, first consider this house’s great dignity to which souls are lead. God’s temple is brightly adorned with magnificence and is embellished with decorations, pictures of animals which masons have fashioned with delicate silver figures. It exhibits images of flowers made in the likeness of the martyr’s virtues, his struggles, sufferings, the various savage actions of tyrants, assaults, that fiery furnace, the athlete’s blessed consummation and the human form of Christ presiding over all these events. They are like a book skillfully interpreting by means of colors which express the martyr’s struggles and glorify the temple with resplendent beauty. The pictures located on the walls are eloquent by their silence and offer significant testimony; the pavement on which people tread is combined with small stones and is significant to mention in itself.”
[4] Egeria. Pilgrimage to the Holy Places of the End of the 4th Century // Orthodox Palestinian Collection. St. Petersburg, 1889. Issue 20. P. 127.
[5] The Teachings of Addai // Meshcherskaya E. N. The Legend of Abgar — an Early Syrian Literary Monument. Moscow, 1984. P. 186.
[6] Egeria. Pilgrimage to the Holy Places of the End of the 4th Century // Orthodox Palestinian Collection. St. Petersburg, 1889. Issue 20. Pp.
In English: https://www.ccel.org/m/mcclure/etheria/etheria.htm
[7] Nicephorus patriarcha . Refutatio, 203 // CCSG. Vol. 33. P. 325–326; rus. lane D. V. Smirnova: https://virtusetgloria.org/trasnlations/epiph/contr_imag/contr_imag_01.html.
[8] Concilium Nicaenum a. 787. Actio VI // ACO II. Vol. 3 (3). P. 706; Russian translation by D. V. Smirnov: https://virtusetgloria.org/trasnlations/epiph/contr_imag/contr_imag_02.html
[9] “In this mood, the safer way seemed to me the one I remember was once related to me concerning Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, who required the readers of the psalm to use so slight an inflection of the voice that it was more like speaking than singing. However, when I call to mind the tears I shed at the songs of thy Church at the outset of my recovered faith, and how even now I am moved, not by the singing but by what is sung (when they are sung with a clear and skillfully modulated voice), I then come to acknowledge the great utility of this custom. Thus I vacillate between dangerous pleasure and healthful exercise. I am inclined — though I pronounce no irrevocable opinion on the subject — to approve of the use of singing in the Church, so that by the delights of the ear the weaker minds may be stimulated to a devotional mood.” (Saint Augustine, Confessions, Chapter 33: Paragraph 50)
In English (Page 146): https://www.ling.upenn.edu/courses/hum100/augustinconf.pdf
[10] Liber Pontificalis / Ed. L. Duchesne. R., 1886. Vol. 1. P. 172
In English (Page 47): https://ia801309.us.archive.org/11/items/bookofpopesliber00loom/bookofpopesliber00loom.pdf
[11] The Decree of the Seventh Ecumenical Council: https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3819.htm
[12] Lotman Yu. M. Semiotics of Cinema and Problems of Cinema Esthetics. Tallinn, 1973. Pp. 2–3
[13] Epistula Barnabae // The Apostolic Fathers / Ed. BD Ehrman. Camb. (MA), L., 2003. Vol. 2. P. 44.
In English: https://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/barnabas-lightfoot.html
[14] Martyr Justin the Philosopher . First Apology, 55 // Works. M., 1995. P. 86.
In English: https://www.ccel.org/ccel/richardson/fathers.x.ii.iii.html
[15] Bodmer Papyrus 75, beginning. III century, in particular.
[16] Hurtado L. Earliest Christian Graphic Symbols and Earliest Textual References to Christian Symbols // Texts and Artefacts: Selected Essays on Textual Criticism and Early Christian Manuscripts. L., 2017. P. 94
[17] Hurtado L. The Origin of the Nomina Sacra // Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. Grand Rapids (MI), 2003, pp. 625–27
[18] Tertullianus. De Corona, 3 // PL. 2. Col. 80
In English: https://ccel.org/ccel/tertullian/corona/anf03.iv.vi.iii.html
[19] Origenes. Selecta in Ezech., 9 // PG. 13. Col. 801.
In English (Page 537): https://www.roger-pearse.com/weblog/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/Origen-Homilies_on_Ezekiel-ed_Hooker-2014.pdf
[20] Apostolic Tradition, 42 // Bradshaw PF Apostolic Tradition: A New Commentary. Colledgeville (MN), 2023. P. 114; see also the introduction to the publication.
[21] Tertullianus. Ad Nations, I 11–12 // PL. 1. Col. 577–578
In English: https://roger-pearse.com/tertullian/articles/howe_adnationes1.htm
In English: https://roger-pearse.com/tertullian/articles/howe_adnationes1.htm
[22] Lidzbarski M. Das Johannesbuch der Mandäer. Giessen, 1915. Bd. 2. S. 108.
[23] Acta Martyrum Samosatae // Assemani S. Acta Sanctorym Martyrum Occidentalium et Orientalium. R., 1748. Ps. 2. P. 125.
[24] Duval R. Syriac Literature. Piscataway, 2013. P. 101.
[25] Peterson E. Das Kreuz und das Gebet nach Osten // Frühkirche, Judentum und Gnosis: Studien und Untersuchungen. Freiburg, 1959. S. 15–16
[26] The history of John, the son Zebedee // Wright W.Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles. L., 1871. Vol. 2. P. 32
[27] Serra DE The baptistery at Dura-Europos: the wall paintings in the context of Syrian baptismal theology // Ephemerides Liturgicae. 2006. Vol. 120. P. 67.
[28] Vinogradov A. Yu. Apocryphal “Acts of John”. Part I // Bible and Christian Antiquity. 2020. №1 (5). P. 75–76.
[29] Ibid. P. 91.
[30] Ibid. P. 90–91.
In Enlglish (Page 146): http://www.documentacatholicaomnia.eu/03d/0160-0220,_Tertullianus,_De_Pudicitia_[Schaff],_EN.pdf
[31] Tertullianus. De Pudicitia, 10 // PL. 2. Col. 1000.
[32] Methodius of Olympus, Hieromartyr. On Free Will // Works of St. Gregory the Wonderworker and St. Methodius, Bishop and Martyr. Moscow, 1996. Page 271 (2nd page).
[33] The translation cited by the opponent can be found here: https://www.tertullian.org/russian/de_spectaculis_rus.htm.
[34] Tertullian. On Spectacles, 23 // Selected Works. Moscow, 1994. Page 290.
[35] Clement of Alexandria. Stromata, VII 28.4. St. Petersburg, 2003. Vol. 3: Book 6–7. Page 211
[36] Tertullian. On Idolatry, 3. Selected Works. Moscow, 1994. Page 251
[37] Tertullian. Against Marcion, II 22. St. Petersburg, 2010. P. 172
[38] Ibid. Pp. 172–173.
[39] St. John of Damascus. Three Defensive Words Against Those Who Criticize the Holy Icons, I 25. St. Petersburg, 1893. Pp. 21–22
[40] Seventh Ecumenical Council. Act VI // DVS. T. 7. P. 208.
[41] Vita Stephani Iunioris // PG. 100. Col. 1085.
[42] Vita Stephani Iunioris // PG. 100. Col. 1112.
[43] Pelagius I papa. Epistula 24, Iohanni patricio caburtario // Pelagii I Papae epistulae quae supersunt. Montserrat, 1956. P. 73–74
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26 Jul at 3:40 pmGrigory Trofimov
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