Statues and icons in Catholic/Orthodox churches

[patrick457]

I should add that the Eastern explanation of icons is actually somewhat closely tied in with the Eastern-Western debate about divine essence and divine energies.

In the East, the icon does not only represent the prototype but actually makes it present by participation in its uncreated energies or grace. The aim of the iconographer is thus to induce that presence in the icon, with divine assistance. The image achieves its full meaning by the principle of identity between the image and the prototype; identity achieved through likeness or hypostatic relation and “familiarity” wth the prototype are constitutive principles of the image. St. Theodore the Studite once pointed out how the icon and its prototype are identical in likeness and name, but are distinct from each other in essence. It is because of this relational connection that one can offer veneration to an icon, and the honor thus given to the image passes on to its prototype. The Iconodule Fathers ensured the realization of the principle of identity between image and prototype; there is a clear distinction between icon and idol.

The Iconoclast controversy is centered around the idea of theosis, the assimilation of the divine likeness through cooperation with God’s uncreated energies. So what Christ is by nature, the icon and the saints are by grace. According to the theorists, the icons represented not just the humanity of Christ, but His deified humanity. The Iconoclasts rejected the view of the icon as a bearer of divine energies or grace (charis), which was confused with the divine essence or substance (ousia); in so doing they restricted the possibility of participation in the divine energies by means of icon veneration. The Icondules, on the other hand, had a more charismatic approach, not recognizing a division of God’s creation into sacred and profane parts. The icon, the relic, the holy man and the monk are all channels through the world was permeated by the holy, so that man himself could “[become] by grace what God is by nature.” (So St. Athanasius.)

There are also the ideas of oikonomia and enigma, as per St. Nicephorus. ‘Economy’ signifies the servitude and humiliation of God through the Son of Man. In taking on flesh, the holy countenance is made visible and salvation is brought to humanity. If the flesh of the Son is the carrier of salvation, then this salvation is likewise carried through the image, through the visible. The concept of enigma, meanwhile, goes deeper into the definition of “visibility.” It brings the system of referral into the visual medium. The iconoclast considered the icon to be the same as what is represented and must therefore refuse it on the basis of conflict between the sacred and the profane. With the concept of enigma, Nicephorus had introduced a “semiotic” dimension into the ontology of the image. This means that the image of Christ is a “visible invisibility;” in other words it makes visible in this life what will be visible hereafter: God the Father. The image is a veil, the affirmation of the hidden, and likewise the only possibility to see “what no eye has seen.” In Byzantine thinking, looking and honoring are always coupled with anagogy toward the divine being. This essence is guarded by a strictly regulated artistic canon.

 

[patrick457]

There’s a book by saint John of Damascus on just this question. Here’s a link:

roca.org/OA/95/95b.htm

Back in the day there was a big fight in the Church over exactly this question. The Iconodoules, or ‘image venerators’ clashed with the Iconoclasts, or ‘image smashers.’ The icon smashers got the Byzantine Emperor on their side and for a considerablke time anyone who venerated icons was persecuted. Eventually the Iconodoules won out and their victory is still celebrated with a feast day as the Triumph of Orthodoxy.

Just after Nicaea II had spelled the victory for the Iconodules, Frankish theologians in the West were advocating a ‘middle way’: you can’t destroy images, but you can’t venerate them either. At best they’re just (in good ol’ Western fashion) teaching tools or decorations for the church.

Apparently, a very bad Latin translation of the acts of Nicaea II wound up before Charlemagne around the 790s. His scholars were horrified to find in it what they considered to be a sanction of idolatry. In response to this supposed heresy was drafted a now-lost work known as the Capitulare adversus synodum which criticized the decisions taken at Nicaea, which was forwarded to Pope Hadrian, who agreed with the conclusions at Nicaea. In short, Frankish theologians challenged the evidence adduced in support of icon veneration as an established and ancient Christian tradition, and insisted that the BIble never supported the making or the adoration of images. Hadrian then wrote a point-by-point refutation of the Capitulare. Far from simply accepting the pope’s answer, however, Charlemagne ordered a more detailed examination of the Roman and Byzantine arguments. His scholars wrote a slightly more comprehensive polished work, which became known as the Libri Carolini (Charles’ Books) or, Opus Caroli regis contra synodum (“The work of King Charles against the Synod”).

The whole incident is sometimes chalked up to a simple misunderstanding caused by the bad translation of the council’s decrees, but in fact the situation was more complicated, involving the political plane alongside the religious.