Today I read Timothy G. Gombis, "Paul," in T&T Clark Companion to the Doctrine of Sin, ed. Keith L. Johnson and David Lauber (London: T&T Clark, 2016), 97–109.
It is a helpful overview of sin in Paul, especially (of course) Romans. But this post concerns the interpretation of Romans 5:6–8 proposed by Gombis. I don't know if it's a new interpretation, but it was new to me. He introduces his interpretation by reminding readers that the term "sinners" in Galatians 2:15–21 is associated with Gentiles and not Jews.
What is evident here is the conviction that while the non-Jews in the Christian churches had a history of being 'sinners', the Jewish Christians were not. They come from among the historic people of God and so did not in habit a group of 'sinners'. This same assumptin underlies Paul's likely sarcastic passage in Romans: 'For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we were sinners Christ died for us' (Rom. 5:6–8). There may have been some in the Roman church who regarded themselves as above their non-Jewish sisters and brothers in Christ. They were not 'sinners' from among the gentiles. If this is the case, then Paul indicates that they do not partake of the benefits of Christ's death. Why would anyone die for a righteous person? Perhaps one would die for a 'good' person, but still, what would be the point? But God demonstrates his love in that Christ died for 'the weak', 'the ungodly' and 'sinners'. Everyone in the Roman community must own these identities or they surrender any claim to participation in the group of those for whom Christ died, whom he has also justified and reconciled to God (Rom. 5.9, 10) and whom he will finally save in the end (Rom. 5.10). (108–9)
Hmm, interesting—reading Rom 5:6–8 as a sarcastic comment. I'm not sure about it, but maybe. But it does seem to me that Gombis is underselling the possibility that a good man might inspire people to die on his behalf. Anyway, it's maybe not precisely on point, but when reading Gombis' question—"perhaps one would die for a 'good' person, but still, what would be the point?—I thought of this scene.
Bust of Charlemagne in the Aachen cathedral treasury. Aachen, Germany (Wikimedia Commons)
In ch. 35, Wilken treats Charlemagne, picking up the story of the Franks from ch. 27. He begins by listing Charlemagne as the fifth of the five great kings who shaped Christianity, after Caesar Augustus, Constantine, Theodosius, and Justinian.
On Charlemagne, The Rest Is History podcast has recently featured a a three-part series on the great king. I couldn't find the exact ones on YouTube, unless they're under different titles, but the three I'm thinking of are at Apple Podcasts here, here, and here. If you want video of Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook talking about Charlemagne, try the one below—it's the third in the series linked above. There's also this one, but the title doesn't correspond to any in the series linked above.
Einhard (c. 775–840, wikipedia) was a courtier of Charlemagne and wrote the authoritative biography (wikipedia). It's a brief work, only about 30 pages in the translation I'm looking at. Of course, it's available in all kinds of editions and translations; here's a recent(-ish) translation by Thomas Noble and published by Penn State. Or you can get an older one at the Medieval Sourcebook. There is a 1998 translation of Einhard's complete works by Paul Dutton. That translation by Noble is based on the Latin text edited by Louis Halphen, which is at archive.org (though, apparently, an earlier edition; Noble dates the edition he used to 1938), and the other standard edition in the MGH series is here. The Latin is also at the Latin Library. Wikipedia informed me that there is both an Einhard Foundation and an Einhard Society, both housed in Seligenstadt (wikipedia), a city founded by Einhard.
Wilkin quickly goes through Charlemagne's ancestry: Charles Martel ("the hammer"; c. 688–741; wikipedia) was merely a "mayor of the palace," though he was also the great power among the Franks while Merovingian dynasty of kings limped along, and Charles Martel was also the victor at the Battle of Tours in 732. He is the eponymous ancestor of the Carolingian dynasty.
One of Charles Martel's sons was Pepin the Short (c. 714–768; wikipedia), who was anointed king by Pope Stephen. "The anointing of the king was consciously modeled on an ancient ritual practiced by the kings of Israel" (Wilken p. 335). Wilkin mentions both the Donation of Pepin the Short, 754 (wikipedia)—granting land to the papacy—and the Donation of Constantine (wikipedia), for which see the text in Latin and English along with Valla's investigation (here).
And then we have Charlemagne (748–814; wikipedia).
Charlemagne's conquest of Saxony, 772–804 (wikipedia). "By 784 Charlemagne's armies had reached the Elbe, and the Saxon leader, Widekund, submitted to baptism" (Wilken p. 336). Apparently this Widekund (there are various spellings of his name) has been regarded as blessed in the Roman Catholic Church (wikipedia).
Wilkin mentions an abbot at Fulda who said that Charlemagne converted the Saxons "partly by wars, partly by persuasion, partly even by gifts." This was Eigil (wikipedia) in his Life of Sturm (here; see the section labeled "200" in brackets [i.e., the page number]).
On the forced conversions, this 2016 article by Daniel König (pdf) interacts with the theory of Yitzhak Hen that Charlemagne adopted the idea from Islam; König is not convinced. At any rate, the idea of forcing people to convert seems to have been new. Alcuin of York, among others, was deeply uncomfortable with the practice, and Charlemagne later moderated it for other groups. Charlemagne issued a capitulary for the Saxons (wikipedia, translation; and here is the MGH edition from 1883).
This chapter also discusses the growing rift between east and west, particularly regarding icons (with Theodulf's refutation of the decisions at the Council of Nicaea 787) and the filioque (wikipedia).
In ways small and large the distinctive features of Western Christianity were becoming evident by the time of the Carolingians. Besides images and the filioque, one might mention Benedictine monasticism, Latin rather than the vernacular as the language of baptism and the Eucharist, unleavened bread in the Eucharist, private penance, celibacy of the clergy, a piety centered on the cross (as in the hymns of Fortunatus), the popel and the emperor as two seats of authority. (Wilken p. 339)
The last few pages of this chapter cover Charlemagne's building program at Aachen, his being crowned emperor in 800, and the Carolingian Renaissance.
One of the benefits of listening to Advisory Opinions (particularly, the latest episode) is learning about such court cases as the 1971 case United States ex rel. Gerald Mayo v. Satan and His Staff. Of course, there's a wikipedia page on the case, with a link to wikisource which gives the decision of the court. The decision is brief, dismissing the case on procedural grounds.
I wish I had known about this case a few months ago, so that I could have mentioned it somewhere in my book on Satan, which will be coming out in the summer from ACU Press. (More on that later.)
The wikipedia page for this case also links to another page, Lawsuits against Supernatural Beings, which summarizes a few actual cases—though none proceeded very far—against the devil and against God.
"The first mention of Christians in Spain appears in a writing of Tertullian of Carthage at the end of the second century" (Wilken p. 324). This is apparently the Adversus Judaeos 7.4.
It was Cyprian's Epistle 67 (here) that is addressed to two Spanish bishops. This fact suggests, as Wilken points out, that there is an ecclesiastical structure in place in Spain, and the Spanish church looks to Carthage for guidance rather than to Rome. There was a Council in Elvira in the early fourth century (wikipedia).
Hosius of Cordoba (c. 256–359, wikipedia) was a Spanish bishop who became an advisor to Constantine. He presided at the first ecumenical council at Nicaea in 325.
He sent a strongly worded letter to Emperor Constantius, preserved by Athanasius (History of the Arians 44, here), protesting against imperial interference in ecclesiastical matters.
Prudentius (c. 348 – c. 413, wikipedia) was a Spanish poet who wrote about spiritual warfare (Psychomachia, wikipedia), and he celebrated martyrs from Spain and elsewhere in his Crown of Martyrdom. There is a Loeb edition of his works.
In the fifth century, the Visigoths conquered Spain, established a capital at Toledo, and were Arian Christians, until King Reccared (wikipedia) converted to Catholicism in 586.
Isidore of Seville (c. 560–636, wikipedia) merits a brief mention.
Jews were targeted in some canons at the aforementioned Council of Elvira, and Reccared and his successors further limited Jewish freedom. Wilken doubts the extent to which these proclamations affected real-life Jews. But things seem to have improved for the Jews with the coming of Islam. "With the onset of Muslim rule the political and legal status of the Jews changed, and over the next several centuries Jewish intellectual and literary life flourished" (Wilken p. 326). Wilken notes that Maimonides (wikipedia) was born in Cordoba in 1135 (or, maybe, 1138; wikipedia comments). On the statue below, see here; it is located near the Cordoba Synagogue (wikipedia) in the Tiberias Square (Plaza de Tiberíades), named in honor of the city in Israel where Maimonides is buried. The synagogue is medieval, but what with the expulsion of Jews from Christian Spain in 1492 (wikipedia), it has not served as a synagogue for a long time, and it became a museum in 1985.
Muslims conquered the territory of Spain in the early eighth century (wikipedia), having crossed over from North Africa, separated by the Strait of Gibraltar by only a few miles (wikipedia). Charles Martel (wikipedia) defended the Franks from succumbing to the expanding territorial ambitions of the Muslims. The decisive engagement was the Battle of Tours in 732 (wikipedia); on this battle, see the recent episode of The Rest Is History podcast (YouTube); for the passage from Gibbon quoted at the beginning of the episode by Dominic Sandbrook (and quoted also by Wilken), see here (= vol. 5, ch. 52.2). Muslims remember this battle location as "the Plain of the Martyrs" (wikipedia).
Over the course of several centuries the descendants of the Umayyads forged a distinctive and brilliant Islamic culture in a land far to the west of the heartland of Islam. By all accounts the Spanish Umayyads were remarkable rulers gifted with intelligence, imagination, and longevity. And they were great builders. Muslim Cordoba was a sparkling jewel of a city in contrast to the drab landscape of western Europe. (Wilken p. 327)
Wilken describes the magnificent mosque in Cordoba (construction began in 756), converted to a Christian cathedral in 1236 (wikipedia). The mosque is "the most majestic and enduring artifact of the grandeur of the Umayyad Kingdom of Spain" (Wilken p. 328). This mosque is also praised on another episode of The Rest Is History from a couple years ago, covering in one swoop the history of Muslim Spain.
Paul Albar (c. 800–861, wikipedia). Wilken cites the testimony of Paul Albar regarding the attraction of Arabic culture and literature for the Christian community of Spain. And for an example of the attractions of Islam, leading to the conversions of Christian to Islam, Wilken cites Gomez (or Comes) ibn Antonian ibn Julian. My googling has suggested that this fellow is not well known but when he is mentioned by modern scholars he is usually referred to as Ibn Antonian. Fortunately, an open-access book by Jessica Coope (Michigan, 2020) tells his story in ch. 3 (pp. 77–78), with citation of primary sources. I believe those primary sources are the Muslim historians noted at Wikipedia here, here, and here. This Ibn Antonian lived under the ninth-century Umayyad ruler Muhammad I of Cordoba (wikipedia). The story goes that he converted to Islam in order to advance his career, but the Muslim members of the king's court fomented suspicions about him that his conversion was a sham and he secretly maintained Christian practices.
In contrast, there were the Martyrs of Cordoba (wikipedia). These are Christians that deliberately provoked Muslim rulers in order to achieve martyrdom. The first was the monk Isaac, who was decapitated on June 3, 851. (Or, at least, Wilken says Isaac was the first. Wikipedia thinks there was an earlier one, Perfectus. But, according to Jessica Coope [p. 19], Isaac was the first one to deliberately seek martyrdom. Perfectus, on the other hand, had first been approached by Muslims.) He soon had imitators. The movement was recorded by Eulogius (wikipedia), who himself eventually became one of the martyrs. There were 48 martyrs in the decade.
While Latin continued to be the language of Christianity in al-Andalus, some Christians learned Arabic well. Wilken tells about the Englishman Robert of Ketton (twelfth century, wikipedia), who came to Spain because of his interest in science. Peter the Venerable in France persuaded Robert to work with others on translating the Quran into Latin. The result was Lex Mahumet pseudoprophetae (wikipedia). This translation was later criticized as too free. Mark of Toledo (turn of the thirteenth century, wikipedia) produced a more literal translation of the Quran.
What these critics did not realize is that Ketton knew precisely what he was doing. He was not simply translating the Arabic of the Qur'an, he was interpreting what he found in the text with the help of Muslim commentators on the Qur'an. When his translation is compared with what Muslims saw in the text he is remarkably on target, often reproducing in Latin what Muslim scholars were writing in Arabic. (Wilken p. 332)
In this concluding evaluation of Robert's paraphrase of the Quran, Wilken is, I believe, relying on a seminal journal article from 1998 by Thomas E. Burman, who also has a book on the topic.
Wilken's ch. 33 turns our attention to the Christians in Egypt and North Africa in the early days of Muslim rule.
After the fall of Syria to the Muslims, including Jerusalem in 638, Egypt also quickly came under Muslim rule. The Egyptian Muslims chose to locate their capital at a fortress called Babylon (wikipedia). They named their new city Fustat (wikipedia).
Pope Benjamin I of Alexandria (c. 590–662; wikipedia).
In this context, the title "pope" refers to the bishop of Alexandria in the Coptic Orthodox Church (wikipedia). Here Wilken describes the significance of Benjamin, with reference also to the one-time Greek Orthodox patriarch of Alexandria and prefect of the region, named Cyrus of Alexandria (wikipedia), who wanted to bring the Coptic Christians into line with the imperial church.
Though he [Benjamin] is a major figure in Coptic history, revered with the likes of Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria, he is hardly known in the West. His name does not merit an entry in the major encyclopedias of Christian history. Yet he guided Egyptian Christians through three major upheavals, the Persian occupation of Egypt in 618–629, the repressive years under Cyrus, the Byzantine governor, and the early years of transition to Muslim rule. (Wilken p. 317)
Wilken describes a sermon by Benjamin on the wedding at Cana (John 2:1–11). The sermon has been translated and is available here (pdf).
Benjamin also had the cathedral of Saint Mark in Alexandria (wikipedia) repaired after damage suffered during the Muslim conquest. "So he moved quickly to rebuild it and claim Saint Mark as the founder of the Coptic Church, and to assert that as patriarch, or bishop of Alexandria, he was in a direct line of succession from the apostle" (Wilken p. 318).
The relations between Christians and their Muslim rulers was at first fine. "The Muslims had little interest in having Christians convert to Islam; they were needed to run the government, to provide financial support, and to till the fields" (Wilken p. 318). But later the Muslim governor took a direct interest in some Christian affairs, especially the election of the patriarch of Alexandria.
The Christian writer quoted by Wilken (pp. 318–19) as lamenting the loss of the Coptic language was apparently (according to this article, p. 426) an eleventh-century writer posing as the seventh-century Samuel the Confessor (wikipedia). But this lament was written in Arabic, as was also the History of the Patriarchs of the Coptic Church in Alexandria (wikipedia). "In the monasteries, however, the monks continued to chant the psalms in Coptic, a practice that continues to this day" (Wilken p. 319).
Now, to North Africa.
The last few pages of this chapter cover events west of Egypt. Wilken first reviews the history of Latin-speaking Christianity in this area, especially Carthage (Scillitan martyrs, Latin Bible, Tertullian, Cyprian, Augustine, Donatists, the Vandals). One of the points Wilken makes is that the expression of Christianity in North Africa differed from that in Egypt in that there was no indigenous Christian culture that took on the native language of the area. In Egypt, there was (and is) the Coptic Church, but in North Africa there was the Latin-speaking church and not much else.
The Vandals, who were Arian Christians, conquered North Africa in the 430s (wikipedia). Catholic Christian culture waned somewhat, but Wilken mentions a leader, Fulgentius of Ruspe (wikipedia), who was persecuted by the Arian rulers but also wrote some things that survive. "Fulgentius was not a major figure in Christian history, and his writings lack originality, but he is a pointed reminder that the venerable Latin Christian tradition of the North African Church was alive in the dark and perilous years of Vandal rule" (Wilken p. 321).
Justinian reconquered North Africa for the Romans/Byzantines. At one point, Maximus the Confessor fled to Carthage.
Then the Muslims came. The decisive engagement was the Battle of Sbeitla (wikipedia) in 647, but it wasn't until 698 that Carthage was taken (wikipedia). And that pretty much spelled the end for Christianity in North Africa (wikipedia).
After the fall of Carthage many Christians from North Africa fled by sea to Italy, Spain, and islands of the Mediterranean. Their exodus deprived the local communities of the cream of Christian society, its educated and elite members. This may explain the lack of written sources after the conquest. A great silence descends on Christianity in Africa. Whatever the reason for the silence, the lack of Christian writings and the paucity of other evidence on the internal life of the churches has fueled speculation that Christianity in North Africa went into steep decline from the beginning of Muslim rule. (Wilken p. 322)
Wilken immediately pushes back on that narrative, and he is able to cite some hints of a continuing Christian presence, but it is much less impressive than in the days of Cyprian and Augustine. "By the eleventh century the bishop of Carthage could not muster two other bishops to make up the required number of three to ordain a bishop" (Wilken p. 323). His final comment in this chapter: "Unlike the Middle East and Egypt, today there is no indigenous Christian community in North Africa that can trace its history back to the time of Tertullian, Cyprian, Augustine, and Fulgentius of Ruspe" (Wilken p. 323).
Wilken's ch. 32 is on early Arabic-speaking Christians in the Middle East. Near the end of the chapter, Wilken offers this evaluation.
The Christian scholars and thinkers who wrote in Arabic were engaged in a major intellectual project that stretched over three hundred years, from the middle of the eighth century up to the Crusades at the end of the eleventh century. They were faced with the challenge of making Christian faith intelligible in the emerging Arabic Muslim culture. What made their situation unique is that the language they translated Christian writings into and the idiom they explained Christian beliefs and practices in was the language of another religion with universal ambitions. (Wilken p. 315)
This issue of translating Christianity into the language of Islam (if I may thus loosely characterize what Wilken describes) is the subject of a recent book, which has been recognized for an award by Christianity Today, which is how the book came to my attention. But from my brief perusal of the book on Google, it seems to be about very recent Arabic translations of Christian Scripture.
Back to Wilken: he first discusses the language situation for Christians in Muslim lands. Not everyone adopted Arabic, of course. Wilken focuses his chapter on the Middle East and especially Mesopotamia (Baghdad), where Christians did come to write important Arabic works. But in other Arabic speaking lands, Christians did not necessarily adopt the dominant language. In Spain (the subject of ch. 34), some Christians embraced Arabic, others held onto Latin. Arabic was never adopted by the Christians of Armenia or Ethiopia. And in Egypt (a subject in ch. 33), Christians early on retained Coptic but eventually adopted Arabic. We have no substantial Arabic literature from Egyptian Christians until the late tenth century (see wikipedia). An early example of a Christian in Egypt writing in Arabic is Severus ibn al-Muqaffa (d. 987), Coptic Orthodox patriarch of Hermopolis (wikipedia).
For the rest of the chapter, Wilken discusses three prominent Christians in the Middle East (see below: John, Timothy, Theodore) who wrote their major works in three different languages (Greek, Syriac, Arabic), and then he discusses the Arabic Bible, and concludes with a brief nod to Christian philosophers writing in Arabic.
John of Damascus (655–750; wikipedia; Wilken pp. 308–9). He has come up in the previous two chapters, as well. He lived at Mar Saba Monastery in the Judean Desert east of Bethlehem.
His major work: Fount of Knowledge, the first summa theologica in Christian history. It is written in Greek. The 1958 translation in the Fathers of the Church series is available for borrowing at archive.org. The third part of the Fount of Knowledge, called On the Orthodox Faith, has more recently been translated in the Popular Patristics series issued by St. Vladimir's Seminary Press.
The second part of the Fount of Knowledge is on "Heresies," and John treats 103 different heresies (including defunct Jewish sects, like Sadducees, etc.). The 101st heresy he treats is Islam, which he calls "Ishmaelites," and he interacts with specific passages from the Quran. Wilken notes that John comments on Muhammad, but this is not the earliest preserved Christian appraisal of Muslim prophet (which is documented at wikipedia).
Timothy I (728–823, wikipedia, Wilken pp. 309–10), patriarch of the Church of the East. Timothy was mentioned in an earlier chapter by Wilken due to his interest in evangelism in places like China. (A book on this topic was also recognized in the recent Christianity Today book awards.) All of his works are in Syriac. He lived in Baghdad, founded in 762 to be the home of the Abbasid caliphate. At the request of the caliph, Timothy translated a portion of Aristotle from Greek into Arabic.
In 781, Timothy had a discussion in Baghdad with al-Mahdi (wikipedia), the third Abbasid caliph.
The caliph asked, for example, how someone so learned could say that God married a woman and begot a son. Timothy replied that no Christian would say that. But, said the caliph, did you not say that Christ is the son of God? True, Timothy answered, but how this could be is beyond our grasp; we can only speak in analogies. As light is born of the sun and the word of the soul, so Christ who is Word is born of God before all worlds. (Wilken p. 310)
A translation of this exchange by A. Mingana and introduced by J. Rendel Harris is available at tertullian.org. A recent essay on the dialogue is here. "The debate was very cordial, and each side knew a great deal about the other. The caliph could cite the Scriptures and argue about how texts were to be interpreted, and the patriarch knew the Qur'an and used passages fromt eh Muslim sacred book to buttress his arguments" (Wilken, p. 310).
As Timothy wrote in Syriac, Wilken also mentions other Christians who were still writing in Syriac: Ishodad of Merv, Michael the Syrian (twelfth century, Antioch), Bar Hebraeus (thirteenth century, Aleppo). "Each writer bears witness to the vitality of Syriac as a Christian language long after the Muslim conquest" (p. 310).
Theodore Abu Qurrah (755–825, wikipedia, Wilken pp. 311–12), bishop of Harran. His major writings are in Arabic.
Wilken describes a treatise by Theodore on the veneration of images. This treatise has been translated by Sidney Griffith. It was written at the request of a member of the church at Edessa, which possessed a well-known icon of Christ "made without hands" (wikipedia). "Theodore's aim in the treatise was to convince wavering and conflicted Christians that the traditional practice of venerating images is supported by the Christian Scriptures and can be defended against Muslim critics on the basis of their holy book" (Wilken p. 312).
Arabic Bible (Wilken pp. 312–14). Principal places of translation: monasteries at Mar Saba and Mar Chariton and Saint Catherine.
Anthony David of Baghdad. (See the article by Griffith.) The colophon of two manuscripts copied at Mar Saba in 885–886. One manuscript contains patristic works. Wilken (pp. 312–13) quotes the colophon.
Stephen of Ramla at Mar Chariton. (See the article by Griffith.) We again have two manuscripts with Stephen's name in the colophon, one in the British Museum and dated to 877, others at Saint Catherine's and dated to 897. One is a translation of the four Gospels from Greek to Arabic. The other manuscript contains Christian treatises.
Christian philosophers writing in Arabic. Wilken singles out Hunayn ibn Ishaq (808–873, wikipedia), who became a court physician to Caliph al-Mutawakkil. "While at the court he oversaw a workshop of translators, but he wrote original philosophical works in defense of Christianity, a treatise of proofs for the existence of God, and another on criteria for determining whether a religion is true" (Wilken p. 315).
Wilken's ch. 31 covers "Images and the Making of Byzantium." It's mostly on the iconoclasm controversies in the eighth and ninth centuries (wikipedia). Of course, these were periods in which the Byzantine empire was greatly reduced in extent and power and threatened by Muslims, so Wilken covers some of that ground, as well.
Siege of Constantinople (674–678, wikipedia) by the Muslims for a period of four years. The Greeks were able to overcome partly by "Greek Fire" (wikipedia). This was not the first siege of Constantinople, even in the same century. Fifty years earlier the city had been besieged by the Persians and Avars (wikipedia).
Wilken prepares for talking about iconoclasm by tracing some early Greek Christian thoughts about images. Images were brought up in a couple of canons of the Council in Trullo (692, wikipedia), a.k.a., the Quinisext Council, called by the emperor, Justinian II. It met in a hall covered by a dome (trullus) in the imperial palace (wikipedia) of Constantinople, and it was intended to complete the work of the fifth and sixth ecumenical councils. Though the assembly considered itself to be an ecumenical council, it was basically an eastern council, as Wilken (pp. 298–99) shows.
The acts of the Council in Trullo are available in several editions, but a most convenient edition, printing the acts in Greek, Latin, and English, appeared in 1995.
The council discussed all kinds of issues, and one who looks through the canons (as I have done, in that 1995 edition) will be struck by how much they talk about marriage and sex. Wilken mentions this topic as the first major thing addressed by the council (canon 3, pp. 69–74 in the 1995 edition), and they stressed that the eastern practice allowed for marriage of priests, whereas the western practice preferred a celibate priesthood (which would become canon law in the west in the twelfth century). But in the East, a married bishop could not live with his wife (canon 12, pp. 82–83).
The gathered bishops stressed in other canons their distinction from Rome (wikipedia) and other eastern groups (e.g., Armenians, wikipedia), such as on the practice of fasting on Saturdays during Lent (see canons 55–56, cf. canon 99).
The Council in Trullo claimed to speak for the Church at large, but as one reads through its canons it is apparent that it is describing a distinctly Byzantine Christian world that was emerging in the years after the hammering it had taken from the Arabs. And it is this feature that gives the council its historical significance: it offers us a glimpse of the form of Christian life that would define the Greek East and later the Slavic Christian world, what came to be called Eastern Orthodoxy. (Wilken p. 299)
Back to images. Wilken mentions two particular canons, one on crosses and the other on depictions of Christ. Here are the relevant canons, copied from the 1995 edition.
73. That the sign of the cross must not be set into the floor.
The life-giving cross has shown us salvation, and we ought with all diligence to render fitting honour to that through which we have been saved from the ancient fall. Wherefore, paying reverence to it in mind and word and sentiment, we command that signs of the cross which have been set into the floor by certain persons should be erased completely, in order that the trophy of our victory may not be insulted by the trampling feet of those who walk upon it. We decree, therefore, that those who henceforth set the sign of the cross into the floor should be excommunicated. (p. 155)
82. That artists are not to protray the Forerunner pointing to a lamb.
In some depictions of the venerable images, the Forerunner is portrayed pointing his finger to a lamb, and this has been accepted as a representation of grace, prefiguring for us through the law the true Lamb, Christ our God. Venerating, then, these ancient representations and foreshadowings as symbols and prefigurations of truth handed down by the Church, nevertheless, we prefer grace and truth, which we have received as fulfilment of the law. Therefore, in order that what is perfect, even in paintings, may be portrayed before the eyes of all, we decree that henceforth the figure of the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, Christ our God, should be set forth in images in human form, instead of the ancient lamb; for in this way we apprehend the depth of the humanity of the Word of God, and are led to the remembrance of his life in the flesh, his passion and his saving death, and of the redemption which thereby came to the world. (pp. 162–64)
As for canon 73, Christians should reverence images of the cross, which means not putting them in the floor. And for canon 82, Christ should not be depicted as a lamb. Wilken (p. 300) gives the example of such a depiction as the Basilica of San Vitale in Ravenna. The Wikipedia page has a not-very-close picture of the image of Christ as a lamb on the ceiling of this church building. A better shot is provided by this website or in the video produced by the tourism board of Ravenna.
Another example known to me is from a ninth-century Tours Bible—so, a western product (see images here, fol. 339v).
As I was reading through the canons, I noticed another one that has something to do with images, though Wilken does not mention this one.
100. "That those things which incite pleasures are not to be portrayed on panels."
Wisdom commands, Let your eyes look directly forward and Keep you heart with all vigilance (Prov 4:25, 23); for the sensations of the body all to easily influence the soul. Therefore, we command that henceforth absolutely no pictures should be drawn which enchant the eyes, be they on panels or set forth in any other wise, corrupting the mind and inciting the flames of shameful pleasures. If anyone dares to do this, he shall be excommunicated. (pp. 180–81)
Wilken points out some ways in which even earlier the significance of images had been noted. He quotes a passage that he attributes to Basil of Caesarea, encouraging artists to work well in depicting the recent martyr Balaam—apparently a typo for Barlaam. Basil's work on Barlaam is labeled homily 17. I can't find a translation, except a partial one here, which also contains a reference to Migne's text (PG 31.484–489), apparently the most recent edition. The same website also labels the attribution of the sermon to Basil "dubious." The same martyr was also praised by John Chrysostom in an undisputed sermon.
Wilken then cites Gregory of Nyssa's comment that every time he sees an artistic rendering of the Akedah, it brings him to tears. This is a comment Gregory of Nyssa makes in a minor treatise called De deitate filii et spiritus sancti et in Abraham. I haven't found an English translation of this work, but I did find an English translation of the relevant passage in an open access journal article, which cites the passage from Migne's edition (PG 46.572c–d). But there is a more recent and authoritative edition of the works of Gregory of Nyssa, the series Gregorii Nysseni Opera (GNO), and archive.org makes available to relevant volume: GNO 10.2. The relevant comment comes near the end of the treatise in the GNO edition on pp. 138–39: εἶδον πολλάκις ἐπὶ γραφῆς εἰκόνα τοῦ πάθους καὶ οὐκ ἀδακρυτὶ τὴν θέαν παρῆλθον, ἐναργῶς τῆς τέχνης ὑπ᾽ ὄψιν ἀγοήσης τὴν ἱστορίαν, "I have often seen an image of the suffering in a picture (γραφή) and I pass by the sight not without tears, what with the art bringing the story distinctly under the eye."
By the way, this is the same work with another famous comment from Gregory, noted here by Roger Pearse, about the way discussions of trinitarian theology were so commonly heard on the street. That passage is at GNO 10.2, p. 121.
It was Epiphanius who said "When images are put up the customs of the pagans do the rest" (Panarion 27.6.10). Here is the fuller context, in the translation by Frank Williams. Epiphanius is talking about the Carpocratians:
They have images painted with colors—some, moreover, have images made of gold, silver and other material—which they say are portraits of Jesus, and made by Pontius Pilate! That is, the portraits of the actual Jesus while he was dwelling among men! They possess images like these in secret, and of certain philosophers besides—Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, and the rest—and they also place other portraits of Jesus with these philosophers. And after setting them up they worship them and celebrate heathen mysteries. For once they have erected these images, theygo on to follow the customs of the heathen. But what are <the> customs of the heathen but sacrifices and the rest? (Panarion 27.6.9–10; trans. Williams, p. 114)
As Williams notes, Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.25 also treats the Carpocratians, and at §6 he mentions their images, with some of the same comments that Epiphanius makes here.
Finally we get to the iconoclasm controversy, and I'll just put down a few notes.
Emperor Leo III (d. 741, wikipedia), in response to a volcanic eruption on the island of Thera: "The emperor thought the empire had been abandoned by God because the people had fallen into idolatry through venerating images. But there was no official prohibition and no systematic destruction of images" (p. 302).
Constantine V (emperor 741–775, wikipedia) was more opposed to images.
Council of Hieria in 754 (wikipedia). Wikipedia says there were 338 bishops in attendance, and they opposed icons.
John of Damascus (d. 750) had been a defender of the veneration of icons. He wrote Against Those Who Denounce the Sacred Images. Three treatises by John on the topic have been translated by Andrew Louth for the Popular Patristics series.
His signal contribution was to show that the prohibition of icons challenged the Christian belief in the Incarnation, that God who is before time and beyond space became man in the person of Jesus Christ and lived at a particular time and place in history. Because the divine Word, the eternal Son of God, had taken on human flesh, writes John, it is possible, indeed necessary, to "draw his image and show it to anyone willing to gaze at it." ... John readily granted that the Scriptures forbid the making of images of God, but the command against making graven images was given in ancient times to the Jewish people before the coming of Christ. Because God clothed himself in human form and became visible, says John, "you may draw his likeness." (Wilken pp. 302–3)
Leo IV (emperor 775–780, wikipedia) did not leave much of a mark, at least, not in the telling of Wilken. His widow was Irene or Athens (c. 750–803, wikipedia), and she was regent until her son, Constantine VI, came of age. Irene was less iconoclastic than the imperial family had been. Wilken makes it sound like she forced out Paul IV, the iconoclastic patriarch of Constantinople (wikipedia), though Wikipedia does it present Paul's retirement in those terms. Paul was replaced by Tarasios (wikipedia), who presided at the seventh ecumenical councils, Nicaea II (787, wikipedia), which condemned iconoclasm.
Theodore of Studium (759–826, wikipedia) was a pro-icon leader during the second wave of the iconoclasm controversy in the ninth century (wikipedia), which came to an end at the Council of Constantinople (843, wikipedia).
At the end of the chapter, Wilken says that the decisions at Nicaea II were not well-received in Charlemagne's court, and Theodulf of Orléans—whom I know more for his edition of the Vulgate—"prepared a lengthy refutation of the acts of the Council of Nicaea."
