In a truly unique way, the Orthodox Church is rich in artistic forms of expression—whether literary, visual or musical—which lift the souls of the faithful towards God, sustain their profound prayer and fill their hearts with joy through the Good News of Christ. These forms of expression are imbued with their own profound dogmatic meaning. In other words, the arts express the faith of the Church.
The dogmatic content of these art forms is closely linked to what is known within the Church as Holy Tradition, that is, the existence of the Church throughout history, which takes place within the space and time of the Church as an event of the union of man with God 1.
This union, this bond between man and God, is usually referred to in the tradition of the Church as a ‘mystery’ or ‘mysteries’—events of the encounter between God and man, which take place in special contexts that defy rational explanation.
These are events of Revelation, the manifestation of God to humankind through various means and ways, at different times 2.
From this perspective, Holy Scripture represents the central axis of Tradition and, in this sense, is a source of inspiration for ecclesiastical art. However, the means by which these mysterious encounters between God and humankind are understood, discussed and depicted within the Orthodox Christian tradition constitute the subject matter of Christian art. It represents the highest expression of the saints’ spiritual experience, a means by which this can be conveyed to the faithful, drawing in particular on their refined intuition and deep faith, rather than necessarily on their rational faculties.
In the early centuries of Church history, remarkable images can be observed in the catacombs, on the tombs of martyrs and in other places—embryonic iconographic models that paved the way for the refined iconography of the period following the iconoclastic controversies 3. In contemporary scholarship, the views of certain 19th- and 20th-century scholars, who maintained that the early Church categorically rejected art—particularly the visual arts—appear to have been abandoned 4. On the contrary, it is evident from the history of the Church that, from the earliest times, Christian art has been a particularly expressive means of catechesis, spiritual formation and the glorification of God.
Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that in antiquity a number of members of the episcopate quite frequently displayed an attitude of caution and reserve towards the use of art, particularly the visual arts, in worship and in the lives of Christians in general. A similar phenomenon can also be observed in the case of church music. Although we have evidence that during the Old Testament period the Jews used musical instruments (the term ‘Psalter’ derives from the name of a musical instrument), in the Church, from the very earliest times, these were rejected on theological grounds 5. Clement of Alexandria states that ‘therefore, we use but a single instrument, namely the word in peace, with which we praise God, and we no longer use the psaltery, the ancient trumpet, the tympanum or the flute’6).
The same point is mentioned more than a century later by Saint Athanasius the Great, Saint Basil the Great, Saint John Chrysostom and Basil of Seleucia. According to them, for theological reasons, it is not appropriate to use musical instruments in the Church 7. Furthermore, Canon 75 of the Trullan Council (691–692) stipulates the following: ‘We decree that those who are in the church to sing should not resort to disorderly cries (disorderly cries, wailing) and to compel the nature of man to shout, nor to add anything beyond what is prescribed by the Churches, which is neither fitting nor proper, but with great reverenceand humility offer hymns to God Who watches over what is hidden, for the Holy Word taught the children of Israel to be devout (Leviticus XV, 31)’8
It is not explicitly stated here whether the music in the Church must be monodic or polyphonic. However, this canon very clearly prohibits the use of harmonies from the secular musical repertoire in the Church: “Let them not use disorderly cries (without order, wailing) and compel the nature to shout, nor add anything apart from what is ordained by the Church.” The interpretations of the canons in use today do not help us much in clarifying these words, probably because, for medieval people, the text was extremely clear. St Basil the Great, in his Letter 207, explains how his contemporaries sang in church: “Here, divided into two groups, the faithful sing the psalms in turn, thereby giving greater depth to their meditation on the words of Scripture and, at the same time, focusing their attention on a more steadfast guidance of their thoughts and feelings. Then they take turns: one is entrusted with the task of beginning the singing, and the others respond’9
Scholars studying musical forms from late Antiquity and early Christianity consider that the verb ‘to accompany’ (in Greek, three verbs are used in such cases – ὑπηχῶ, συνεπηχῶ, συνηχῶ) does not mean ‘to sing in another voice’, but rather ‘to hold the ison’, that is, to accompany with a low, steady voice beneath the main melodic line 10. St Basil the Great is even more explicit in the following words from his commentary on the First Psalm: ‘Thus, psalmody offers the greatest of gifts: love. For he conceived of singing together (συνωδία) as a kind of bond intended to support the unity of the faithful, uniting them (συναρμόζουσα) in harmony (συμφωνία) in one place’11
Saint John Chrysostom, a native of Antioch, states that “the psalmist sings alone, though the others accompany him, and the voice rises as if it were resounding from a single voice” (ὁ ψάλλων ψάλλει μόνος· κἂν πάντες ὑπηχῶσιν, ὡς ἐξ ἑνὸς στόματος ἡ φωνὴ φέρεται) 12. This eloquent testimony entirely rules out the idea of polyphonic singing. It is difficult to interpret the expression ‘as from a single voice’ (ὡς ἐξ ἑνὸς στόματος) in the sense of polyphony, where the voices are distributed across different harmonic levels.
If we read the words of Saint Basil the Great in this light, it becomes very clear that, when he speaks of ‘harmony’ and ‘symphony’, he is not referring to polyphony but, on the contrary, to singing in unison—an acoustic expression of accord, unity and communion, the gathering of the theandric assembly into a single Eucharistic community, the encounter between the divine and the human, between the created and the uncreated. The importance of singing in unison lies in its significance as an outward expression of community and communion. This, in turn, has a distinctly Eucharistic—that is, eschatological—character. This focus in church singing finds its counterpart in art.
Singing in unison is an acoustic expression of harmony, unity and communion… of the gathering of the theandric assembly into a single Eucharistic community, the encounter between the divine and the human, between the created and the uncreated. The importance of singing in unison lies in its significance as an outward expression of community and communion.
If we return to the sacred images, we shall observe that the local Council of Elvira, Spain, around the year 304, in Canon 36, decreed that no images of those who are honoured and before whom Christians worship should be placed in churches 13. Similarly, the words of Saint Clement of Alexandria advise Christians not to allow themselves to be unduly captivated by art, on the grounds that it ‘deceives and misleads’ and leads them to venerate the works of art themselves. Nevertheless, Clement of Alexandria does not reject art in itself, arguing that it must not deceive people by presenting itself as truth 14. Elsewhere, he explains that Christians are nevertheless permitted to use images which, on a symbolic level, can maintain a certain connection with the reality of the Gospel; for example, the image of a fisherman on the seashore might bring to mind an apostle or the newly baptised members of the Church 15.
Saint Irenaeus of Lyon also speaks of images of holy persons, including Christ the Saviour, though in the context of various heretical communities. He mentions that the followers of the Gnostic Carpocrates had an icon of Christ 16, whilst the Simonians kept an icon of Simon Magus 17. Similar information can also be found in the writings of Eusebius of Caesarea, an expert on Christian antiquity. In a letter addressed to Empress Constantia, he expresses his reservations regarding images in the Church, fearing in particular the danger of idolatry. The text reveals a lack of a clear understanding of the relationship between the image and the prototype, which leads to a total rejection of any attempt to depict Christ the Saviour 18.
In this regard, early Christian authors are consistent in their attitude towards religious images (we have very little evidence regarding music from this period, apart from that mentioned previously 19), clearly following the Old Testament’s provisions on this matter, intended to protect the Jews from idolatry within the context of the pagan world 20.
The rejection of this form of expressing faith in the early centuries can be explained by certain ambiguities surrounding the concept of the image, the way in which it relates to reality, and the meanings it conveys and encompasses. Without formulating a clear theory on the image and the symbol, the Church could not address this issue without certain reservations, given the fierce polemic in early Christian thought against pagan idolatry and the dramatic struggle for emancipation from pagan society, which came at the cost of numerous acts of martyrdom. Indeed, a similar attitude towards sacred images can also be found in the Stoic Zeno, who rejected temples and representations of pagan gods, considering them unworthy of the majesty of the divine—a point noted and reiterated by Clement of Alexandria 21. It is no coincidence that the tradition concerning the image of Christ, not made by human hands, on the veil originates from Edessa, a small principality which adopted Christianity as its state religion as early as the reign of Abgar IX (170–214 AD). In this context, it appears that the polemic against paganism was not so intense, as it had already been overcome over the course of approximately a century. The well-known story, recorded in the Church’s hymnography, relates how King Abgar, wishing to be healed of his illness, sent his servant, Ananias, to invite the Saviour Christ to come to his court or, at the very least, to have His portrait painted. However, because of the crowd surrounding the Lord Jesus Christ, Ananias was unable to paint His likeness. Then, the Saviour Christ asked for water, washed His face and, after drying Himself with a clean handkerchief, gave it to Ananias. His image had been imprinted on the cloth, an image not made by human hands 22.
More than a century later, Saint Basil the Great did not develop a complete theology of icons, but he offered us some reflections on the value of art as such 23. The Cappadocian Father, in the characteristic spirit of his practical theology, considers that the role of Christian art is, above all, educational, and that its ultimate purpose is to be of benefit to humankind 24. The words of Saint John Chrysostom can be interpreted in the same vein; he states that art is good only if it is useful 25. According to Saint Basil the Great, the meaning of art within the context of the Church, like any human endeavour in this world, leads towards the supreme goal established by the Creator of the world: ‘likeness to God’ (ἡ πρὸς τὸν Θεὸν ὁμοίωσις), ‘becoming like God [through grace]’ (τὸν Θεὸν γενέσθαι) and ‘the perfection of those who ascend [towards God]’ (τῶν προκοπτόντων τελείωσις)26.
According to Saint Basil the Great, the purpose of art within the context of the Church, like any human endeavour in this world, leads towards the supreme goal established by the Creator of the world: ‘likeness to God’.
The arts are gifts bestowed upon humankind as fundamental capacities, and people are duty-bound to develop them throughout their lives.
Saint Gregory the Theologian goes even further, asserting that the value of art, in terms of its representations, is directly related to whether or not it leads to God. If it does not, then such art has the value of a magical deception and nothing more 27. The Cappadocian Father also states that the arts are a gift from God 28.
St Basil the Great observes that the artist (ὁ καλλιτέχνης) recognises beauty in details and is able to arrange them into the unity of a work of art. Through this ability, the artist imitates the Creator of the universe. All human arts should be regarded as originating from the Great Lord of the universe; whether it be agriculture or medicine, they always have their origin in the divine principle. The arts are gifts bestowed upon humankind as fundamental capacities, and people are duty-bound to develop them throughout their lives 29. However, according to Saint Basil, there cannot be a complete analogy between art and creation. Creation by God takes place like an idea that arises in the human mind (εἰς νοῦν βάλλειν/ἐννοεῖν) and is brought into being from nothing (ἐξ οὐκ ὄντων/ἐκ μὴ ὄντων), that is, without involving the existence of any pre-existing matter30. A similar view is set out by Saint Cyril of Alexandria in his work Dialogues on the Holy Trinity. According to him, the creation wrought by God is out of nothing and is of an absolute nature, whilst art (τέχνη) represents a change in the state of one thing into another and is often the result of learning—that is, the development and enhancement of human capacities—and is thus something dynamic rather than constant or given from the outset 31.
The Creator of the universe, however, does not judge His creation and its beauty by the human standard of ‘pleasure to the eyes’ (τέρψιν ὀφθαλμῶν), but, according to His own criteria, it is expressed in two very important aspects of creation. The first is that the beauty of His work lies in the fact that it is created with the deepest meaning, possessing an inner structure that contains the fundamental principles and causes of its existence. The second aspect shows that art proves useful to the purpose for which it was created 32. The world, which is a harmonious divine creation, is examined by all, and thus the wisdom of the Creator is revealed 33. Saint Basil the Great refers to the creation of art as a ‘natural image’ (εἰκὼν φυσική) and an ‘imitative image’ (μιμητικὴ εἰκών). The Saint emphasises that this must be as close as possible to the original image34 The very act of imitating the perfect reality of creation is astonishing. Saint Basil admires the artist’s talent for capturing human beauty in his work; yet, he also reflects on the opposite situation, when the artist fails to faithfully render the beauty of the original model, depicting various features asymmetrically and failing to reproduce the harmony of the ‘whole’ in its complete form 35.
The Holy Fathers refer to God either as the Trinity, or as the Son and the Word from the Father in the Holy Spirit, using epithets which, in Greek, are commonly associated with artists and creators in the realm of art. Saint Clement of Alexandria calls Him ‘artisan’ (τεχνίτης) 36; whilst Saint Cyril of Alexandria prefers the expression ‘the perfect Architect of all things, God, Who has adorned all things’ (ὁ πάντων ἀριστοτέχνης Θεὸς τόδε τὸ πᾶν διεκόσμησεν) 37. Saint Gregory the Theologian says of the Word that He is ‘like an artist who has woven creation with wisdom’ (ὡς καλλιτέχνης καὶ πλέκειν σοφῶς κτίσιν) 38. Saint Gregory Palamas revives the use of the term ‘artisan/creator’ (δημιουργός) 39, since, in his time, this term was no longer burdened by Platonic connotations. All these names given to God are intended to emphasise that He is the sustainer of creation, providence, the order of the world and of humankind, for He is the God Who truly exists and the One Who is (ὁ ὤν – Exodus 3:14).
It is interesting to note that the Church Fathers also highlighted the opposite situation, in which the corruption caused by sin is associated with a form of ‘bad art/art lacking in mastery’. God is, on the one hand, the first artist, the Creator of all that exists, and, on the other hand, a lover of mankind, for, out of mercy, He creatively engages with history, giving it a beginning and sustaining creation with His unceasing grace-filled power. In contrast to this, the enemy provokes and produces ‘demonic art’ (κακοτεχνία διαβολική), in order to hinder human salvation 40. This point also appears to be indicated by Saint Ignatius Theophorus, who, in his epistle to Saint Polycarp of Smyrna, warns the recipient that the works of destruction, that is, sin, have their origin in the influence that the devil exerts over those created in the image and likeness of God 41.
Saint Gregory the Theologian also states that ‘the artist gains a deeper understanding’ through truthful images, suggesting that the realistic rendering of the natural features of the prototype is, in essence, an act of honouring the Creator of the universe 42. A similar point is highlighted in the panegyric, the funeral oration delivered by Saint Gregory for his father, in which he speaks of the decoration of a church built during his father’s lifetime. Elsewhere, he mentions that ‘images of creatures’ (πλάσματα)43 were placed in the church, which are in no way inferior to natural beings. In other words, the artist who created these images, through his mastery, came close—even if only slightly—to the perfection of what the Creator of the universe had created. Thus, art, in the context of the Church, takes on a soteriological and eschatological meaning 44. According to Saint Gregory, this principle does not apply to the statues placed in the city 45, but, on the other hand, we see that he does not reject secular art, noting that the bronze sculptures commissioned by Governor Nemesius to adorn the city are remarkable works, which he compares to the image he himself must create through his oratory 46. Of course, this passage may also be interpreted in the context of his natural modesty regarding himself.
In conservative Antioch, at the end of the 4th century, Saint John Chrysostom bears witness to the widespread use of icons amongst Christians. In his eulogy in honour of the city’s archbishop, Meletius, Saint John says that the laity loved him so much that they painted his image and constantly invoked his name. After his death, the icons bearing his likeness, which were widespread throughout the city, brought them great comfort 47. The same author reports that, also in Antioch, many kept icons of the martyrs not only in churches, but even in their own homes 48.
The Christological debates, from the fifth to the seventh century, significantly influenced the Church’s conception of art, particularly with regard to the understanding of holy icons. The Christological formulations adopted by the Ecumenical Councils of the 4th, 5th and 6th centuries led to a shift towards a more Christologically precise representation in Christian iconography. The Seventh Ecumenical Council is regarded by most Church historians as a milestone in Christological disputes, as its decrees provide a theological solution concerning the representation of the icon of Christ. However, prior to this council, the so-called Quinisext Ecumenical Council of Trullo, held in the Trullo Hall in Constantinople (692), addressed this issue in three of its canons. This council, being a continuation and completion of the Fifth and Sixth Councils, falls within the scope of Christological issues, a point also highlighted by the canons in question. The first is Canon 73, which regulates the veneration of the Holy Cross on soteriological grounds. Since salvation came through it, the Holy Cross must not be desecrated or disregarded, nor placed in unsuitable locations 49. The second is Canon 82, which deals directly with the representation and veneration of the icon of Christ. It states:
‘In some depictions of the venerable icons, the Lamb is depicted as being pointed out by the Forerunner (Saint John the Baptist), which (the Lamb) is understood as a figure of grace, having previously revealed to us through the Law (the Law of the Old Testament) the True Lamb, Christ our God. In venerating, therefore, the ancient images and shadows as signs (symbols) and prefigurations of the truth, handed down to the Church, we honour first and foremost grace and truth, receiving them as the fulfilment of the Law. For this reason, so that what is perfect may be revealed to all through the art of colour, we decree that, from now on, Christ, our God, the Lamb Who has taken away the sin of the world, shall also be depicted in icons in His human form in place of the ancient lamb, so that, by this we may understand the greatness of God the Word, we may also be led to remember His incarnation, His Passion and His saving death, and the redemption of the world, which was accomplished through this’50
Through this synodal decision, it can be said that the Church is reorienting its sacred art, shifting the emphasis from symbols and abstract representations towards the real persons who took part in the events of the Gospels and in the entire salvific history of the Church on earth. From the evidence of ecclesiastical archaeology, we know that symbolic representations of Christ continued to be used at least until the 7th century and even beyond. However, following this Synod, the emphasis clearly shifted in a different direction. Indeed, linked to these two canons is Canon 100 of the same council, which prohibits vulgar pagan representations 51. Thus concludes the process of the Christianisation of art, which began with the earliest depictions in the catacombs of Rome and the floral motifs discovered in the church at Dura-Europos 52.
The most puritanical and reserved prejudices against Christian art from the early period of the Church resurfaced during the iconoclastic period of the 8th and 9th centuries 53.
This specific resurgence took place against the backdrop of a tense polemic with Islam and the significant influence of Eastern elements amongst the Constantinopolitan elite. A number of emperors of Syrian and Armenian origin were raised and educated in a context marked by intense disputes between Christians and Muslims, where the issue of whether to permit or prohibit sacred images within the church occupied a central place. The iconoclastic movement unfolded in two major phases, and until the definitive restoration of the veneration of icons in 843, it gave rise to a profound theological debate concerning holy icons. This dispute directly influenced the entire conception of art and the relationship to creation itself within the Orthodox Church. In this context, Saint John of Damascus stands out as the first to develop a theory of art centred on the significance and iconography of sacred images.
An important element of Saint John of Damascus’s arguments in defence of holy icons, their use in liturgical worship and, more generally, Christian art, is the idea that matter can be a legitimate means of salvation for the faithful. In opposition to the iconoclasts’ tendency to underestimate the role of matter in the religious life of Christians, Saint John of Damascus draws on an argument from the ancient tradition of the Church. He points out that such an understanding of matter is not something new, but can also be observed in the ancient heresy of the Manichaeans: ‘Do not say that matter is evil, for it is not dishonourable. For nothing that God has made is evil or dishonourable. This is Manichaean thinking’54”.
It is no coincidence that St John of Damascus’s work against those who reject the holy icons frequently appears in manuscripts alongside his treatise against the Manichaeans. It is highly likely that both works were written within a short period of time, during the author’s early years, when he was deeply concerned about the heresy of iconoclasm.
Matter, says Saint John of Damascus, plays an important role in our salvation. In the beginning, God created the world, and then He gave the Tabernacle—things which are material, but which were recognised as good and sanctified through His creative work. When the time was fulfilled, God became incarnate and, in doing so, sanctified not only humankind but all matter, for He received not only a soul but also a body. If communion with God were merely intellectual, through thought alone, we would not have candles, sermons, prayers spoken aloud, wine, the Holy Blood of Christ and Bread—His Body—in our churches; that is to say, all the material means through which we receive grace for our salvation 55. Our salvation, the author concludes, is accomplished in matter, for we too are matter. ‘And the Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us’ (John 1:14)56.
Was not the Holy Cross matter, or the Hill of Golgotha, or the Holy Sepulchre? asks Saint John. ‘Is not the wood of the thrice-praised and blessed Cross matter? Is not the revered and holy mountain, the Place of the Skull, matter? Is not the life-giving and life-bearing stone, the Holy Sepulchre, the source of our Resurrection, matter? Is not the ink and the Most Holy Book of the Gospels matter? Is not the life-giving table, which gives us the Bread of Life, a material thing? Are not the gold and silver, from which crosses, discs and chalices are made, material things? But, above all these, are not the Body and Blood of our Lord material things? Either he rejects the veneration and worship of all these, or he admits, in accordance with ecclesiastical tradition, the veneration of icons, which are sanctified by the name of God and of God’s friends and, for this reason, imbued with the Grace of the Holy Spirit57
This concept, according to which divine Grace can permeate material objects and can be transmitted through contact with them, is fundamental to Christian teaching and, according to some contemporary theologians, was accepted by both sides in the dispute concerning the veneration of holy icons, as it is directly linked to the Church’s teaching on the Holy Sacraments and on creation. However, this is not a wholly acceptable assertion, given that one of the principal ideologues of the iconoclastic movement, Emperor Constantine V Copronymus, in his reflections, expressed himself in a clearly unorthodox manner regarding the Holy Eucharist, stating that the bread we receive is an image of the body of Christ, which conveys the form of His body and becomes a 58 symbol. On the other hand, the Orthodox profess the real presence of the Body of Christ in the Holy Eucharist, entrusted to human hands and intended for those worthy to receive it. In this regard, Saint John of Damascus writes unequivocally: ‘The bread and wine are not an image of the Body and Blood of Christ (God forbid!), but the very Body of the Lord, deified, for the Lord Himself says: ‘This is My Body’, and not a symbol of the Body nor a symbol of the Blood, but Blood. And, before this, (He addresses) the Jews: ‘Unless you eat the Body of the Son of Man and drink His Blood, you will have no life within you. For the Body is true food and My Blood is true drink’; and also: ‘Whoever eats Me will live’59
This concept, according to which divine Grace can enter into material objects and, through contact with them, Grace can be transmitted, is fundamental to Christian teaching.
We worship material objects not for their own sake, but because they are vessels of God’s work (ἐνέργεια) and means of our salvation, that is to say, God, through His good pleasure (κατ’εὐδοκίαν), brings about this salvation in them. Saint John of Damascus says: ‘I honour these and such things, and I worship before them, and every holy place of God, and everything that bears the name of God—not because of their own nature, but because they are vessels of the divine work, and through them, and in them, God has been pleased to bring about our salvation. For I honour angels and men and all matter as being partakers in the divine work and serving my salvation, and I worship them because of God’s work’60
Saint John of Damascus puts forward his strongest argument in favour of the right of Christians to depict Christ, the Mother of God and the Saints. “We Orthodox Christians,” he says, “do not depict the unseen Divinity, Who is the beginning of all that exists, yet is without beginning, uncreated, incorruptible, immortal, eternal, and beyond the grasp of the human mind. However, we depict God, Who has personally revealed Himself before us, having taken on our nature, the human nature. We depict His body, which is seen 61. As for God, whom we cannot perceive with our senses, we have no image in which to depict Him. ‘How is that which is unseen to be depicted in an icon? How can that which is weightless, without size, indefinable and formless be depicted? How can the Bodiless One be coloured? How can form be given to the Formless One?”, says Saint John in his first treatise against those who reject the veneration of holy icons, and he adds: “It is clear that when you see the One without a body, Who became man for your sake, then you will leave a trace of the human form”62
‘We, Orthodox Christians, do not depict the unseen Divinity, Who is the beginning of all that exists. However, we depict God, Who has personally revealed Himself before us, taking on our nature, the human nature. We depict His body, which is visible. As for God, Whom we cannot perceive with our senses, we have no image in which to depict Him.”
We venerate the icon of Christ as God incarnate 63. It is not wrong to depict the saints as well, for their holiness is also expressed in their bodies. Man is composed of two parts: soul and body. Whilst human nature was affected by sin due to our ancestors’ transgression of the commandment, now that the Godhead has been united substantially and without mixture with human nature, it has been glorified and has become immortal. That is why we paint the saints and venerate their relics 64. What we have in mind is the living witness of the Church, their likeness to God. Quoting the words of Saint John the Evangelist: ‘We shall be like Him’ (1 John 3:2), St John of Damascus says: ‘Just as iron, united with fire—not by its own nature, but through union, ignition and participation—becomes fire, so too does deification—not by nature, but through participation—become God. I am not speaking of the body of the incarnate Son, for this, through the hypostatic union and communion with the divine nature, has come to be unchangeably God; it is not anointed with the divine work, as the prophets are, but with the presence of the One Who anoints. Through deification, the saints too become gods. [The Psalmist says of them]: ‘God stands in the assembly of the gods; he judges amongst the gods’ (Psalm LXXXI, 1), when God stands in the midst of the gods to discern their worthiness (as Gregory the Theologian explains)65.
The saints are not gods by nature, but by participation (κατὰ μετοχήν). Their lives are lived for the glory of God, and they offer us an example of sanctification. Depicting the Incarnate Word is, at the same time, a sanctification of the gaze and a remembrance of the actual historical events that took place at that time. It is natural for human beings to keep the memory of such events alive, and this can also serve an educational purpose. For ordinary believers, an icon can sometimes leave a stronger impression than the Gospel text read during the service. The reason is that our engagement with a painted image is direct, whilst that with a written text is indirect 66.
However, if we venerate the icon of Jesus Christ as God incarnate, we should also venerate the icon of His Mother, the Most Holy Mother of God, for she became the Mother of God through her purity and holiness, unsurpassed by any other woman in history. We venerate the icons of the saints because they are friends of God and resemble His holiness. Saint John of Damascus, quoting the words of Saint Basil the Great, explains why we venerate the saints: ‘the veneration given to the image extends to the prototype’ (ἡ γὰρ τῆς εἰκόνος τιμή πρὸς τὸ πρωτότυπον διαβαίνει)63. Thus, when we venerate the saints, we venerate God.
Of course, the role of Holy Tradition is essential for Saint John of Damascus. In response to the iconoclasts’ argument—that there is no evidence of the veneration of icons in Holy Scripture—Saint John of Damascus quotes the words of Saint Basil the Great: ‘[The Apostles] handed down the laws of the Church not only in writing, but also through unwritten traditions. Here is what the divine Basil says in the twenty-seventh of the thirty chapters addressed to Amphilochius on the Holy Spirit, in the following words: ‘Of the dogmas preserved in the Church, some we have from written teaching, whilst others we have received from the tradition of the Apostles. Both have the same authority for the faith. And anyone with even the slightest understanding of ecclesiastical matters will raise no objections (to this statement). For if we were to try to set aside customs (which have no written basis), as though they were of little significance, we would be mistaken, thereby doing a disservice to the Gospel67
Saint John of Damascus also asks: ‘How do we know the holy place of Golgotha? How do we know the tomb of life? Have not the children received this in an unwritten form from their parents? That the Lord was crucified at Golgotha and was buried in the tomb which Joseph hewed out of the rock is written (in the Scriptures); but that these are the very places we now worship at, we know from unwritten tradition. And there are still many more of this kind. Where does the threefold immersion at Baptism come from? Where does the act of bowing towards the east come from? Where does the tradition concerning the Sacraments come from? That is why the divine Apostle Paul says: ‘Therefore, brothers, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions which you have been taught, whether by word of mouth or by our letter’ (2 Thessalonians 2:15). So, if there are so many unwritten practices in the Church that have been handed down and preserved to this day, why are you questioning the use of icons?’68
Finally, Saint John of Damascus made a systematic effort to define what an ‘image’ (εἰκών) actually is and how it relates to reality. In response to the objections of the iconoclasts, who claimed that Christ’s divine nature cannot be rendered through colours and outlines, but only His human nature, or that holiness cannot be represented in this way, St John of Damascus, in his First and Third Discourses against those who reject the veneration of holy icons, formulates a systematic definition of the concept of ‘icon’ (εἰκών). The image is not identical to the prototype and differs from it in certain respects, but when we have the image before us, we understand that it refers to the prototype and resembles it in every respect. Drawing on the concept of ‘image’ from the early patristic tradition—which is linked to the doctrine of man and discussed at greater length in connection with the Church’s Christological teaching—Saint John of Damascus offers the following definition: ‘An image is a likeness that conveys the essential characteristics of the prototype, in accordance with it, yet also bearing a certain difference from it, for the image does not resemble the original in every respect. In fact, the living, natural and unchanging image of the invisible God is the Son, Who bears within Himself the entire being of the Father, being identical to Him in all things, but differing from Him only in terms of causality. The natural cause is the Father, and the One caused is the Son, for it is not the Father who is from the Son, but the Son who is from the Father. The Son derives His existence from Him, though not after Him. This is precisely what is meant by the fact that the Father begot Him’69”.
St John of Damascus gives a similar definition in his third homily: “An icon is a likeness, a model, an image of someone, which reveals within it the one who is depicted. Generally speaking, however, the icon does not resemble the original—that is, the one depicted—in every respect. The icon is one thing and the original is another, and generally a distinction can be observed between them, for the one is not the other and the other is not the one. For example: an icon of a human being, although it depicts the form of the body, does not possess the faculties of the soul, for it neither lives, nor thinks, nor speaks, nor feels, nor moves. In the same way, the Son, although He is the natural image of the Father, nevertheless has something distinct 70 from Him, for He is the Son, and not the Father71”.
We create images of various events and personalities because, by our very nature, we are limited by time and space, which often makes interaction through images necessary. As Saint John of Damascus says, the image was conceived to lead man towards knowledge and to reveal to him phenomena that would otherwise remain hidden from him. In the case of holy icons, the benefit to humankind lies in their participation in the fulfilment of the plan of salvation 72.
Saint John of Damascus also classifies the different types of icons. The first type of icon is the natural one (ἡ εἰκὼν φυσική), which is unchanging, just as the Son is the unchanging image of the Father, yet He Himself is not the Father. The second type of icon is the thought that exists within God (ἡ παράστασις ἐν τῷ Θεῷ), that is, His eternal counsel, which is always the same, through which He will bring all things into being. The third kind of image is that made by God ‘by imitation’ (κατὰ μίμησιν), that is to say, man. For how can that which is created be of the same nature as the Creator? The fourth kind of icon is the pictorial one (ἡ εἰκὼν ζωγραφικῆς), which attributes forms, figures and likenesses to the unseen and incorporeal. This is because we cannot see the unseen with our own eyes. The fifth type of icon is that which depicts and foreshadows future events, such as the prefigurations of the Virgin and the Mother of God in the Old Testament. The sixth type of icon is that intended to commemorate past events or virtue 73. However, if we wish to depict a nature that we cannot perceive with our senses, we seek its transformations (μετασχηματισμοί). In this way, the prophets of the Old Testament beheld God and the angels 74. However, the first icon was made by God Himself. He begot His Son, the natural icon, and created man, an icon made in His image 75.
It is therefore evident that, in addition to depicting the God-Man, Jesus Christ, the Church has accepted that man, the Mother of God and the saints should also be depicted in churches, for the curse of sin no longer weighs upon them. The shadow of sin and the passions no longer rests upon his face, and their icon is no longer marred by sin and its consequences, the corruption of the body. According to Saint Theodore the Studite, the prohibition: ‘You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything!’ (Exodus 20:4) was issued before the restoration of the image of God in man through the coming of Christ. The Incarnation of the Divine Word radically changes man’76 situation. Therefore, the depiction of man is possible because of his renewed nature. Here, Saint Theodore the Studite appears to have followed Saint Athanasius the Great in his judgement, who, in one of his earliest works, expresses the same thoughts: ‘The Word of God came in person, so that He, as the image of the Father, might restore man, who was created in His own image. Since the image painted on wood had become obscured due to external defilement, it was necessary for the One to whom this image belonged to come again, so that the image (εἰκών) might be renewed upon this material. ‘That is why the All-Holy Son of the Father came.’ To defend the use of icons in worship, Saint Theodore the Studite puts forward the following arguments: firstly, he approaches the issue from a thoroughly Christological perspective. He puts forward an argument asserting that there is compatibility between Christ’s various natural attributes. Some belong to the nature that can be described, whilst others belong to the nature that cannot be understood. The presence of both in the person of the Saviour does not lead to a fusion of the natures. Saint Theodore says: ‘Christ is the Same according to hypostasis, having in both His natures His own unmixed limits’77).
In response to the iconoclasts’ criticisms of the Orthodox, namely that they divide Christ into two distinct natures, depicting the human nature as separate from the divine, or that they claim to depict the Godhead together with humanity, which, of course, is absurd, Saint Theodore states that: ‘It is not the nature that is depicted, but the hypostasis, for how could nature be depicted without being contemplated in the hypostasis… Christ is depicted according to His hypostasis, even though He cannot be depicted according to His divinity, [because] the natures of which He is composed are not [depicted]’78
Thus, the theological foundation of Christian art proves to be profoundly Christological. Christ, according to the logic of the Chalcedonian Creed (451 AD), is the One in whose image man was created by the counsel from all eternity. The Word of God became incarnate precisely to restore man as the most marvellous of His creatures. It seems that this is precisely where man’s impulse to create art lies. This is deeply linked to his divine image, and his yearning for beauty represents a visible manifestation of this divine attribute.
This understanding is also found in the words of Saint Patriarch Photius in his homily at the consecration of a new church, dedicated to the Annunciation of the Most Holy Mother of God, in the imperial palace, delivered sometime in the years 866–867. In his words, the believer, approaching the church, is deeply impressed and even amazed by its external appearance, adorned with beautiful forms; yet, upon stepping inside, is overwhelmed by an even greater sense of wonder at what he sees. The feeling, says the patriarch, is as though one has arrived in Heaven, and he goes on to describe the marvellous decorations dedicated to the Most Holy Mother of God, which take the believer’s breath away 79. A similarly moving description can be found in the mosaic depicting the Mother of God in the Church of ‘Hagia Sophia’ in Constantinople, in another of the Patriarch’s sermons. This was probably delivered on 29 March 867, on the day of the Great Council 80. From the historical records available to us, we know that the mosaic was severely damaged by an earthquake in 866 and had to be restored. Patriarch Photius states in this homily that, previously, many emperors (that is, the iconoclasts) had not cared for the adornments of the churches with piety: ‘from which the wise teachings of the knowledge of God blossom and spring forth, just as those which spring from a chosen and healthy root of the God-loving soul of the [saints, depicted in icons], from which we too, as from ripe fruit, extract the juice of spiritual salvation, ultimately gaining great wisdom in many matters’81
Patriarch Photius asserts that pious dogmas are received not only through the word (λόγος) and hearing (ἀκοή), but also through sight (ὄψις), and that their understanding is a complex process82 From the words of this exceptionally profound and devoted primate of the patriarchal throne of Constantinople, it becomes clear that divine Grace is not transmitted solely through listening to the word of God with the ears, but also through the eyes, through the contemplation of the marvellous works of art dedicated to the holy persons, which, with their grace-filled gifts, particularly nourish the souls of those seeking salvation. This concept, of course, is closely linked to the divine blessing at the beginning of creation, for, in the account of creation in the Book of Genesis, at every stage of creation, God affirms that it is good—that is to say, beautiful, blessed and imbued with the divine work.
Nevertheless, in the Byzantine Orthodox tradition, there remains a vivid sense of the inadequacy of human powers to adequately express the inner spiritual world of a holy person, let alone that of the Lord or the Mother of God. In this regard, a remarkable example is the epigram by Constantine of Rhodes, who was born towards the end of the 9th century. In Book 15 of the Anthologia Palatina, the collection of epigrams by Leo the Philosopher, he includes several of his poems dedicated to works of art (15.15–17). One of these is a description of an icon of the Mother of God. In it, the author not only expresses his emotion and spiritual devotion to the Mother of God, but also observes that people have managed to depict her with the means at their disposal and in a way that is easy to understand:
If anyone were to wish to paint you, O Virgin,
They would need stars, not colours,
To depict you in light, The Gates of Light,
But they will not conform to mortal thoughts.
With what nature and the art of painting have given us,
We can only outline you in this way.
This attitude, which I would call ‘apophatic’, must not be overlooked when understanding ecclesiastical art in an Orthodox context. It is motivated by the Orthodox approach to the knowledge of God and, consequently, to the dogma of the faith itself. That which remains hidden beyond the limits of human understanding represents the mystical and inaccessible aspect of dogma. Here we see it understood within the context of iconographic art.
In conclusion, it can be said that, in fact, the Christian concept of art is a direct consequence of the biblical view of creation. The very act of creating all that exists out of nothing, through the creative power of divine Grace, represents a specific expression of God’s mercy and compassion. Man, having been created as the crown of creation, in the image and likeness of God, possesses distinctive faculties, not only to master creation, to rule over it and to represent God within it, but also to glorify God through His gifts, thereby perfecting the whole of creation. This perfection can also be understood, in the context of Christian art, as an expression of the care and protection of the beauty of God’s creation. Thus, Christian art is both a means for the salvation of the faithful, educating them and offering them God’s blessed gifts, and, conversely, an expression of the care shown by artists and musicians—holy and enlightened by God—for the preservation and perfection of creation, marred by original sin. Thus, it plays a blessed, salvific and therapeutic role in the liturgical service of the Church.
The Christian concept of art is a direct consequence of the biblical view of creation.
- 1
See Ribolov, S. ‘Sacred Tradition – the Existence of the Church in Historical Time’. Theological Thought, 1–4 (2008), pp. 174–204.
- 2
See Tenekedjiev, L. ‘The Number of Sacraments in the Church’. – In: idem, Dogma and Terminology in the Orthodox Christian Tradition. Supplement to the journal Theological Thought, vol. XIX, Sofia: UI, 2014, pp. 101–111.
- 3
See Uspensky, L. The Theology of the Icon. Trans. Vl. Genov, Sofia: Omophor, 2001, pp. 51–63.
- 4
See detailed bibliographical references and a discussion on this topic in: Uspensky, L. The Theology of the Icon, pp. 39–50; Theod. St. Nikolaou, The Significance of the Icon in the Mystery of the Oikonomia. Patristic Testimonies. Trans. Kon. Nikolakopoulou, Thessaloniki: Pournara, 1992, pp. 15–19.
- 5
See Ribolov, S. ‘Eastern Church Chant – A Legacy of the Holy Fathers’, FThS 2 (2016), pp. 7–14. It should be noted that this is the case in the so-called Byzantine tradition, whilst in other Christian traditions (Latin, Coptic, Ethiopian) instruments are used, albeit within a limited range.
- 6
Clement of Alexandria, The Pedagogue, 2.4.41, ed. Cl. Mondésert and H. Irénée Maroy Matray (SC 108, p. 90).
- 7
Athanasius of Alexandria, On Psalms 45–47 (PG 27, 213C–221D); Basil of Caesarea, On Psalm 29:2 (PG 29, 308C–309B); John Chrysostom, Against the Jews (PG 48, 853); Basil of Seleucia, Oration 39.4 (PG 85, 437B).
- 8
See Ralles, G.A. – M. Potlis, Constitution of the Divine and Sacred Canons, vol. II, Athens 1852, 478 and the notes: pp. 479–480.
- 9
Ep. 207.3 (St Basil, Letters, vol. II, ed. Yves Courtonne, Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1961, p. 186).
- 10
See Stamoulis, Chr. Nature and Love and Other Essays, Thessaloniki: Palimpseston, 1999, p. 173.
- 11
Basilius Caesariensis, In Psalmos I.2 (PG 29, 212D).
- 12
John Chrysostom, Homily 37 on the First Epistle to the Corinthians (PG 61, 315).
- 13
There should be no painted images in the church, nor should anything that is venerated and worshipped be depicted on the walls. – See Josep Vilella, ‘Placuit picturas in Ecclesia esse non debere: The Prohibition of c. 36 of the Pseudo-Iliberitan Code’, Veleia, 34 (2017), 147–162.
- 14
Clement of Alexandria, The Protrepticus 4.57.5–6, ed. Cl. Mondésert (SC 2, 121–122). Cf. The Pedagogue, 3.11.53.4–5, ed. Cl. Mondésert, Ch. Matray (SC 158, p. 114).
- 15
Clement of Alexandria, The Pedagogue, 3.11.59.2 (SC 158, p. 124).
- 16
Irenaeus of Lyon, Against Heresies, 1.25.6, ed. Ad. Rousseau, L. Doutreleau (SC 264, p. 342).
- 17
Irenaeus of Lyon, Against Heresies, 1.23.4 (SC 264, p. 320).
- 18
Eusebius, Epistle to the Augustan Constantia (PG 21, 1545A–1549A).
- 19
See Ignatov, L. Dynamics in the Interpretation of Church Chant in the 4th–6th Centuries – Axiology and Praxiology, Varna: Holy Metropolis of Varna and Veliko Preslav, 2021, p. 41 ff.
- 20
Exodus 20:4 ff.; chapter 23; Leviticus 26:1; Deuteronomy 4:16 ff.; 5:8 ff.; 27:15.
- 21
Clement of Alexandria, The Stromata V.11.76, ed. A. van der Noek (SC 278, p. 150).
- 22
See Menaion of August, containing the service proper to that month, together with the addition of the typikon, Athens: Apostolic Ministry, pp. 168–170.
- 23
Letter 360 in his collection is devoted to some extent to this subject, but the truth is that it probably belongs to another author. (See CPG, vol. II, p. 162).
- 24
See Epistle 2.3 (St Basil, Letters, vol. I, ed. Yves Courtonne, Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1957, p. 9).
- 25
John Chrysostom, Commentary on the Gospel of St Matthew, 52.3 (PG 58, 522).
- 26
Basilius Caesariensis, Liber de Spiritu Sancto, 9 (PG 32, 199BC).
- 27
Gregory of Nazianzus, Oratio IV. Contra Julianum I, 97 (35, 629BC); Poemata moralia, 10 (37, 917A–920A); Poemata historica, Ad alios 7 (PG 37, 1563A–1564A).
- 28
Gregory of Nazianzus, Oratio XXVIII.25 (PG 36, 60C).
- 29
Basilius Caesariensis, Homiliae IX in Hexaemeron, 4.1 (PG 29, 80B); Regulae fusius tractatae. Interrogatio, LV (PG 31, 1044BC).
- 30
Basilius Caesariensis, De Spirito Sancto, 3 (PG 32, 76CD). cf. Mayendorff, John, *Byzantine Theology. Historical Perspectives and Dogmatic Themes. Sofia: Galiko, 1995, pp. 167–168.
- 31
Cyrillus of Alexandria, Thesaurus on the Holy and Consubstantial Trinity, 15 (PG 75, 256AB).
- 32
Basilius Caesariensis, Homiliae IX in Hexaemeron, 3.10 (PG 29, 76C–77A).
- 33
Basilius Caesariensis, Homiliae IX in Hexaemeron, 1.7 (PG 29, 17B).
- 34
Basilius Caesariensis, Homily XXIV: Against the Sabellians, Arius and the Anomaeans, 4 (PG 31, 608A); Against Eunomius, 1.18 (PG 29, 552C); cf. De Spiritu Sancto, 18 (PG 32, 119BC).
- 35
Basilius Caesariensis, De Invidia, 5 (PG 31, 381AB). Cf. Ad adolescentes, 8 (PG 31, 585C).
- 36
Clement of Alexandria, The Stromata IV.18.116 (SC 463, p. 248).
- 37
Cyril of Alexandria, Festal Letters (I–IV), 1 and 6 (SC 372, pp. 168, 350, 368).
- 38
Gregory of Nazianzus, Poemata moralia, 10 (PG 37, 688A).
- 39
Gregory Palamas, To Gabras, 14 (Gregory Palamas, Writings, ed. G. Mantzaridis, N. Matsoukas, V. Psiftogas, vol. II, p. 341).
- 40
Nilus, Epistolarium, Book III, Letter 33 (PG 79, 396A).
- 41
Ignatius to Polycarp, 5.1 (The Apostolic Fathers, ed. K. Lake, Harvard University Press, 1965, p. 247).
- 42
Gregory of Nazianzus, Poemata moralia, 33 (PG 37, 932A); Poemata historica, de se ipso 17 (PG 37, 1262A).
- 43
It is not clear from the text whether these are sculptures, bas-reliefs or frescoes.
- 44
Gregory of Nazianzus, Oratio XVIII, 39 (PG 35, 1037A). Cf. Mayendorff, J. Op. cit., 172–173.
- 45
Gregory of Nazianzus, Oratio XXVIII, 14 (PG 37, 328B); Epistle CXLI (37, 241C).
- 46
Gregory of Nazianzus, Poemata historica, ad alios, 7 (PG 37, 1551A–1552A).
- 47
John Chrysostom, On St Meletius of Antioch (PG 50, 516).
- 48
John Chrysostom, On the Holy Martyrs, 3 (PG 50, 712).
- 49
Ralles, G.A. – M. Potlis, Constitution of the Divine and Sacred Canons, Vol. II, p. 474.
- 50
Ralles, G.A. – M. Potlis, Constitution of the Divine and Sacred Canons, Vol. II, p. 492.
- 51
Ralles, G.A. – M. Potlis, Constitution of the Divine and Sacred Canons, Vol. II, p. 545.
- 52
See cited in: Uspensky, L. The Theology of the Icon. Trans. Vl. Genov, Sofia: Omophor, 2001, pp. 51–63.
- 53
The iconoclasts reject holy icons, fearing idolatry, but at the root of this view lies an underestimation, or even a neglect, of the role of the material or tangible element in the spiritual life of Christians, and the acceptance of its spiritual dimension as being completely independent. For this reason, they emphasise the rational and spiritual connection between man and God. In their view, the virtues and stature of the saints can be highlighted only through words, without recourse to visual expressions such as colours or forms (see Tselengidis, I. D. The Theology of the Icon and its Anthropological Significance. Thessaloniki: Pournara, 1984, pp. 121–127).
- 54
John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Slander the Holy Icons, 1.16 (text and translation-introduction and commentary by N. Matsouka, Thessaloniki: ), 190–192.
- 55
John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Slander the Holy Icons, 1, 26, pp. 218–220.
- 56
John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Slander the Holy Icons, 2, 14, p. 276.
- 57
John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Slander the Holy Icons, 1, 16, p. 190: Cf. John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Slander the Holy Icons, 2, 14, p. 278.
- 58
Alexander, P. The Patriarch Nicephorus of Constantinople: Ecclesiastical Policy and Icon Veneration in the Byzantine Empire. Oxford University Press, 1958, p. 5.
- 59
John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, Book IV, 13 (86), ed. N. Matsouka, Thessaloniki: Pournara, 1976, p. 370. When the priest says, before the troparia of the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts: ‘The most holy Presanctified Gifts, to you, O Saints!”, the Orthodox Christian regards the mystical sacrifice offered at the Eucharistic assembly as an offering of the very Body and Blood of Christ itself, and as a living reality, not a symbol. We see this same living reality in the relics of the saints and in the holy icons. (see Ἱερατικόν. Athens: Apostolic Ministry, 1998, p. 217. Cf. John of Damascus, Three Discourses Against Those Who Deny the Holy Icons, pp. 186, 130. In the Liturgy of St Basil and St John Chrysostom it is said – ‘the holy things to the holy ones’. See also Ἔκδοσις ἀκριβὴς Ὀρθοδόξου πίστεως, Vol. IV, 89, p. 392).
- 60
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3, 34, p. 356.
- 61
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 4, p. 174.
- 62
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 8, p. 178.
- 63a63b
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 21, p. 202.
- 64
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3, 10, p. 324.
- 65
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 19, p. 198: Saint John of Damascus quotes from Homily 40 by Saint Gregory the Theologian (PG 36, 365B). See also Ἔκδοσις ἀκριβὴς Ὀρθοδόξου πίστεως, Book IV, 16 (89), p. 392.
- 66
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 13; 1, 17, pp. 184–186, 194–196 ff. Cf. John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 38; 1, 47, pp. 223, 225.
- 67
See Basilius Caesariensis, De Spirito Sancto, 27 (PG 32, 188B).
- 68
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1, 23, pp. 206–208.
- 69
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1.9, pp. 180–182.
- 70
Τι παραλλαγμένον from the verb παραλλάττω, which conveys the idea of a change in order.
- 71
Cf. John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3.16, pp. 330–332.
- 72
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3.17, p. 332.
- 73
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3, 18–23, pp. 332–341.
- 74
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3:24–5, p. 342. See John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 1:9–13, pp. 182–186.
- 75
John of Damascus, Against the Slanderers, 3.26, p. 344. See also Accurate Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, Book IV, 16 (89), p. 390.
- 76
Theodore the Studite, Anti-Iconoclastic Discourses against the Iconoclasts, Book I, 5. Introduction, Commentary and Notes by K. Ioannis Dalkos, Athens: Indiktos, 2006, p. 66.
- 77
Theodore the Studite, Anti-Iconoclastic Discourses Against the Iconoclasts, Book I, 3, p. 62.
- 78
Theodore the Studite, Anti-Iconoclastic Discourses against the Iconoclasts, Book III, 34, p. 206.
- 79
The second sermon of His Most Holy Patriarch Photios of Constantinople, delivered as an expression of thethe church known as the ‘Royal Church’. – In: of our holy father Photios, Patriarch of Constantinople, Eighty-three Sermons and Homilies. Ed. S. Aristarchus, Vol. II, Constantinople 1900, pp. 428–439.
- 80
It is worth noting that the Triumph of Orthodoxy, or the Restoration of the Holy Icons (ἀναστύλωσις τῶν ἱερῶν εἰκόνων), which is celebrated on the first Sunday of Great Lent, took place on 19 February 842. The patriarch certainly symbolically linked the restoration of the icon of the Mother of God to this event.
- 81
The sermon delivered by His Holiness Photius, Patriarch of Constantinople, from the pulpit of the Great Churchon Great Saturday. – In: Of our holy Father Photios, Patriarch of Constantinople, Eighty-three Sermons and Homilies. Ed. S. Aristarchus, Vol. II, Constantinople 1900, pp. 295–296.
- 82
Ibid., pp. 304–305.