More usually, historical research on Christian iconography concentrates on the two periods of the Iconoclastic Controversy during the 8th and 9th centuries. In contrast, as the title of Robin Jensen’s monograph, From Idols to Icons: The Emergence of Christian Devotional Images in Late Antiquity, reflects, she returns to the earlier period and interrogates the standard view that early Christianity, following the Hebrew tradition, singularly condemned any attempt to portray the divine visually. The history is more complex, says Jensen. Both the condemnation and grudging concession of the use of imagery, and also its welcome acceptance and necessity were present simultaneously.
In chapter 1, Jensen shows that images themselves were not the target of early Christian condemnation. Rather, those that were in use in the pagan world were images of gods that were false, and they could become conduits for evil forces. This latter concern of Christian leaders also included wariness about how the faithful might interpret images. They wanted to ensure that they did not mistake the imaginative creations of artists for the divine being itself. But this was not a unique worry. Rather, the classically schooled theologians of the period claimed an intellectual affinity with the renowned and respected philosophers of antiquity.
From the pagan world, Jensen turns to the assertions of aniconism in the Jewish tradition in chapter 2. The evidence clearly demonstrates not only that images were not entirely condemned in the Hebrew Bible, but also that the text itself is replete with anthropomorphic imagery of the Most High, in which God’s interaction with his creation entails face-to-face encounters, the seeing of God’s shadowed form (Moses permitted to see only God’s back), and God’s transferred presence in creatures (the Psalmist’s eagle) or nature (the burning bush, the pillar of cloud). Thus, conceptual imaginings of God included human likenesses; and, for this reason, the endeavor to depict them should not be surprising.
The significance of the Christian incarnation is traced in Chapter 3, in which the indescribable and invisible creator, who previously has manifested only aspects of its being, now becomes fully enfleshed in the world. If God is present in a person who lives in the world, then this divine presence possesses human features. Thus, God becoming human is a clear affirmation of the material world, which leads to questions of imaging the “human form divine.” How is Jesus, as the incarnation of God, to be depicted? What constitutes an authentic image of “God amongst us”? Which features and what forms are permissible when portraying the “true likeness” of the one proclaimed as the Christ? It is these questions that the bishops and theologians raised and attempted to answer; and it is their responses that both generated, and assisted to resolve, the later iconoclastic disputes.
They believed that idols, unlike Christian images, were images of the wrong gods—of false or non-existent deities (chapter 4). In contrast, as Christians, they worshipped the true and living God. Their iconography, present from the early Christian period, primarily comprised symbols and identification markers that exhibited their pledge of loyalty to Christ in images that were narrative rather than portraitive.
But this was set to change, as chapter 5 illustrates. Images that narrate may be distinguished from representations of persons. In the former, a story progresses; in the latter, a person’s face invites the viewer into a direct encounter. Here the dangers of confusing artifacts with the divine resurfaced, as did questions about how to portray a long-deceased saint or martyr; and, decidedly more difficult, how to image Jesus as the Christ, the savior, who died and was raised.
Although, currently, it is not difficult to differentiate between an icon of Christ and one of St Paul or St Peter; nevertheless, the depictions of the early centuries show the changing portrayals of Jesus, from beardless and youthful to bearded and authoritative. Reasons for the changes are recounted in chapter 6. After Christianity’s adoption by the Roman Empire, similarities between its religious imagery and authoritative imperial statuary, especially of the emperors, are noticeable, and the influence of the defining christological doctrines of the ecumenical councils also informs future portrayals. Significant too is the forging of a more sophisticated theology in which what is symbolized points to and implicitly contains the reality to which it points. Thus, the portrait of Christ is a symbol that directs the viewer to the divine, and the divine is present in the symbolic representation.
The claims of miraculous and healing powers for images are explored in chapter 7. This sense of sacred power present in the material world was supported by the doctrinal emphasis upon the incarnation that was central to the conciliar period in Late Antiquity. In addition, the “discoveries” of holy relics, and the increasingly ornate physical enactment of Christian religious rites, facilitated these claims.
In the final chapter (8), which constitutes the theoretical matrix of the book, Jensen summarizes the arguments, and reflects upon, and critically extends, the dominant scholarly views of the transition “from Idols to Icons.” Amongst these, the need of the poor and the unschooled to learn from pictures has remained an obdurate reason cited by scholars for the production and use of holy images. However, as Jensen queries, do the literate no longer appreciate art; and would the poor (often less educated) be able to afford to commission or purchase such artifacts? Her reply argues that sacred imagery was present in the longer biblical tradition and salient in early Christianity, and that the church’s teachers and theologians of the Late Antique period invested considerable scholarly energy to investigate their purpose and role, and to locate them within Christian practice. In this respect, Jensen’s inclusion of Augustine of Hippo’s exploration of visual knowledge and his sober assessment of the purpose of holy images and their permitted use is especially welcome as a reminder that the debate about sacred iconography was not a wholly Eastern ecclesiastical affair. Augustine’s influence and that of the Neo-Platonists invited a reassessment of the stark divide between spirit and flesh, form and matter; and allied with the teachings of the Syrian monk of the 6th Century, Pseudo-Dionysius, ensured that sacred images were granted their place in devotional practices that chart the path of ascent to God.
This richly illustrated and subtly argued account of “the emergence of Christian devotional images in Late Antiquity” commends itself, and the author’s commitment to, and, indeed, affection for, her subject illuminates the text as it does the images.
Frank England is an honorary research associate at the University of Cape Town, South Africa.
Frank England
Date Of Review:
August 30, 2023
