Icon Worship Research Articles

THE MĒSU-TREE AND THE ANIMAL INSIDE: THEOMORPHISM AND THERIOMORPHISM IN DANIEL 4

The present article offers an analysis of Daniel 4. It argues that the literary origins of the tree imagery in the biblical text most probably lie in Mesopotamian conceptions of the mēsu-tree, the tree that supplies the flesh of the gods, the material of their statuary presence. The presence of the imagery in Ezekiel 31 suggests that the Mesopotamian concept was incorporated into exilic and post-exilic redefinitions of the legitimate channels of the iconic worship of YHWH. Within a priestly redefinition of YHWH's iconic presence in Judah, Adam's physical resemblance to YHWH provided in humanity the only legitimate alternative to idol worship. Daniel 4 and its context exhibit similar ideological concerns and construct a similar solution to the ongoing iconic dilemma: humanity functions as the only legitimate equivalent of ancient Near Eastern cultic statues, as the replacement of YHWH's cultic statue of the First Temple no longer extant. The iconic connotation of the tree imagery requires a reassessment of the animal deforma¬tion of the tree, albeit a late addition to the original stratum of the narrative. Commonly interpreted through the lens of ancient Near Eastern depictions of human heroes with animal traits or life-habits, Nebuchadnezzar's loss of his dendromorphism can only mean in the terms of the parable the deformation of a theomorphic state. Within the parameters of this ideological context and of the tree parable, by losing his theomorphism and becoming theriomorphic, Nebuchadnezzar ceases to be object of worship and becomes worshipper. Moreover, in his deformation he also destroys the only legitimate object of iconic worship: himself. The context of Daniel 4, namely Daniel 3 and Daniel 5, suggests that in its deformed state humanity is only left to mistakenly worship idols.

Traditional Veneration of Icons in the Russian Orthodox Church

The veneration of icons in the Orthodox church is an integral part of the Russian liturgical tradition. It is possible to study icons only as a sacred work of art intended for prayer. Therefore this article's goal is to show the forms of veneration of icons in the temple as its major environment. In the tradition of Russian Orthodox piety icon worship is expressed in various forms. The major form of veneration of icons is expressed in believers standing in front of them in prayer. In the services of the Russian Orthodox Church it is customary to worship icons with prayer and Akathist services. One of the Holy Fathers said: “Do, do the external, for the external belongs to us, and the internal to God. And for the external the Lord shall give us also the internal” (Pestov 2000: 542). Such external forms of the veneration of icons are expressed in bowing before them, kissing, censing, lighting candles and decorating holy images. All these signs of veneration precede the prayer and create a special mood.

Shiva as 'cosmic dancer': On Pallava origins for the Nataraja bronze

This paper explores the origins of the Nataraja cult in the state of Tamil Nadu in southern India. The trajectory of the dancing Shiva is traced: from the processional worship of metal icons outside the sanctum to the cultic elevation of the Nataraja bronze into the sanctum at Chidambaram. Archaeometallurgical, iconographic and literary evidence discussed shows that the Nataraja bronze, depicting Shiva's anandatandava or 'dance of bliss', was a Pallava innovation (seventh to mid-ninth century), rather than tenth-century Chola as widely believed. That this formulation was informed of 'cosmic' or metaphysical connotations is also argued on the basis of the testimony of the hymns of Tamil saints.

The Studia Philonica Annual, Volume 13: In the Spirit of Faith: Studies in Philo and Early Christianity in Honor of David Hay (review)

Reviewed by: The Studia Philonica Annual, Volume 13: In the Spirit of Faith: Studies in Philo and Early Christianity in Honor of David Hay Lester L. Grabbe The Studia Philonica Annual, Volume 13: In the Spirit of Faith: Studies in Philo and Early Christianity in Honor of David Hay, edited by David T. Runia and Gregory E. Sterling. Brown Judaic Studies 332. Providence, RI: Brown University Press, 2001. 304 pp. $37.95. The Studia Philonica Annual focuses on Philo of Alexandria but takes in all aspects of “Hellenistic Judaism.” This particular volume is a Festschrift in honor of David M. Hay. Much of Hay’s work has been on Philo, though he is probably best known to a wider audience for his 1973 book, Glory at the Right Hand: Ps. 110 in the Early Church, and for his 2000 commentary on Colossians (both Nashville: Abingdon). The essays in this volume cover Philo and Hellenistic Judaism and early Christianity. There is no particular theme to the volume, but one motif that emerges in several essays is the somewhat complicated relationship between Philo’s love of Greek thought and culture and his conviction of the superiority of Judaism and the Jews. Ellen Birnbaum (“Philo on the Greeks: A Jewish Perspective on Culture and Society in First-Century Alexandria”) shows how complex and difficult it is to assess Philo’s views, probably because the Alexandrian opponents of the Jews were from the Greek community. Although Philo makes some critical comments about Greeks, he clearly admires them (the majority of references are in fact positive or neutral; however, he thinks the Jews are superior). He never refers to his opponents as “Greeks” but as “Alexandrians” and “Egyptians” (it is unlikely that any of the opponents were actually native Egyptians). Although Philo’s exact connotation may be unclear, I am not sure that Birnbaum’s counsel to simply use his terminology is the solution. James R. Royse (“Philo’s Division of his Works into Books”) notes that some ancient writers apparently did not divide up their writings into books (e.g., Herodotus, Thucydides), though others did (e.g., Polybius). There are a number of indications that Philo followed the practice of dividing his writings into books. Royse focuses in particular on the Quaestiones et solutiones in Genesim and Quaestiones et solutiones in Exodum. Peder Borgen (“Application of and Commitment to the Laws of Moses: Observations on Philo’s Treatise On the Embassy to Gaius”) argues that the treatise on Gaius has much in common with his expository writings, showing how the law functioned in communal life. One of the aims of the Embassy is to show the strength of the Jewish commitment in opposing Gaius’s statue in the temple. David T. Runia (“Philo’s Reading of the Psalms”) looks at all the passages where Philo quotes or alludes to the Psalms (c. 30 in all). Although he does not often exploit the full spiritual potential of the Psalms, Philo can when he wants to. That he does not do so more frequently is probably because his allegorical spiritualizing of the Pentateuch renders this use of the Psalms unnecessary. Karl-Gustav Sandelin (“Philo’s Ambivalence towards Statues”) illustrates the ambiguity of Philo’s attitude. On the one hand, he detests “idolatry,” which he interprets as the worship of icons and polytheism, and speaks out against it. Yet a number of [End Page 154] passages show an appreciation of and even fascination with artists and even the divine statues of the surrounding Greco-Roman world. David Winston (“Philo of Alexandria and Ibn al-‘Arabi”) compares the medieval Sufi mystic with Philo, showing some remarkable parallels. These seem to come from their mystical view of reality rather than any organic connection. Thomas H. Tobin, S.J. (“The Jewish Context of Rom 5:12–14”) examines Paul’s contrast of Adam and Christ by looking at how Adam’s sin was interpreted in early Jewish texts. This context shows that Paul was not trying to develop a “doctrine of original sin”; rather his concern was the relationship of Jews and Gentiles and grace for both apart from the Law. Since Adam was prior to the Law of Moses...

The Empress Theodora: Partner of Justinian, and: Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium (review)

Reviewed by: The Empress Theodora: Partner of Justinian, and: Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium Mary A. Valante (bio) The Empress Theodora: Partner of Justinian by James Allan Evans. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2002, 172 pp., $29.95. Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium by Judith Herrin. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2002, 320 pp., $29.95. Very little has been written about Byzantine empresses recently. For example, despite the appeal of Theodora, due to the scandalous way she is presented in the primary sources, no monograph has been written about her in English for more than 20 years. That said, Evans's work is by far the more satisfying of the two. Despite what is implied by the title, Herrin's monograph is not an investigation of the roles of Byzantine empresses; instead, it is about three empresses in the eighth and ninth centuries, two of whom reigned and one who did not, and especially their contributions to the debate on iconoclasm which was raging in the East at the time. Herrin identifies the military and church as the most important concerns of Byzantine emperors during this period. She focuses on iconoclasm and the Church because, she says, female rulers, like their male counterparts could order generals to lead armies, but they had little ability to influence the Church unless they insisted on taking such powers for themselves. Since there is in fact a long tradition of women influencing the Church—founding churches and monasteries, becoming powerful [End Page 218] abbesses, influencing important secular or ecclesiastical men—this supposition cannot be maintained. However, the impact of at least two of the empresses in question on iconoclasm in the East is clearly demonstrated, even if it was well known before this work. Like Herrin, Evans argues that Theodora's most important contribution was ecclesiastical. His grasp of the sources is impeccable, as demonstrated by his refusal to fall into the traps of other scholars—reviling Theodora as did the contemporary historian Procopius or elevating her to the emperor's co-ruler. Instead, here is a balanced portrait of a lowborn woman with questionable background who rose to power and influence during a crucial period of history. He is always careful to analyze the agendas of the primary source authors. For example, the famous Nika revolt—for which Theodora is often credited with saving Justinian's throne—is downplayed, as is Theodora's supposed influence on foreign policy. The empresses Herrin discusses are Irene, Euphrosyne, and a ninth-century Theodora, not the same one discussed by Evans. Irene was married to the iconoclast emperor Leo IV, who died in 780. Irene then took over rule of the empire on behalf of her nine-year-old son, Constantine. At first she was his regent and co-ruler, and when Constantine came of age Irene refused to allow him to rule. He was able to displace her, though after two years he was forced to bring her back to court. A few years later she overthrew her own son, had him blinded, and once again began to reign, this time alone. Interestingly, it is not these power struggles that Herrin sees as Irene's most valuable contribution to the definition of empress. Instead, it is her involvement in the Seventh Ecumenical Council that Herrin views as Irene's most lasting contribution. Because the Council declared iconoclasm a heresy and restored the worship of icons to the Eastern Church, Irene effectively overthrew the policies of her three male predecessors. The next empress, Euphrosyne, is the least well known of the three, and for good reason. Herrin herself admits that there is very little mention of her in any of the sources for the period. Euphrosyne is Irene's granddaughter who marries into a later dynasty to help legitimize it. But she never rules in her own right, is never regent, and her role in the anti-iconoclast movement is very unclear. Her stepson, the next emperor, is another iconoclast who marries a woman named Theodora. Theodora's mother is usually credited with teaching a love of icons to the next generation, but Herrin argues that Euphrosyne did so first. However, there...

High Anxiety: Masculinity in Crisis in Early Modern France ed. by Kathleen P. Long (review)

REVIEWS 235 Princeton University Press, 2001) xi + 304 pp., ill., maps. Judith Herrin graces us with an informative and entertaining account of the rule of three Byzantine empresses, Women in Purple. Irene, Euphrosyne, and Theodora ruled the eastern Mediterranean Christian empire of Byzantium in the eighth and ninth centuries A.D. In addition to the dubious honor of being women rulers in an age when few females yielded such power, all three left lasting contributions to universal art and culture by preserving and protecting the veneration of religious icons in the Eastern Christian Church. The policy against the worship of icons had its beginnings in the seventh century. Throughout the 720s and 730s the Saracens were attacking the outreaches of Byzantium with the ultimate goal of entrenching themselves in the capital city of Constantinople. After a series of defeats at the hands of the Arabs , the Byzantine emperor Leo III, believing that his Arab enemies were granted victory because of their strict stand against the worship of images, issued an edict banning the worship of all icons in his own empire. In 787, at Empress Irene’s initiative, the worship of icons was reinstated. Surviving numerous plots designed to dethrone her, Irene is the first woman ruler of Byzantium, a precedent that served Euphrosyne and Theodora well. Her ascent to power is an accomplishment in itself considering that Irene insists on being declared empress at a time when the concept of a Byzantine woman ruler was inconceivable. Empress Euphrosyne’s most notable contribution was as mentor to her daughter in law, Theodora. Euphrosyne made sure that the final bridal candidates , Theodora included, were all iconophiles., and she continued to aid the cause of the iconophiles from behind the scenes as advisor to the young Theodora . Euphrosyne’s inclusion in this trilogy serves more as a link between the generations than as portrait of an innovator. The definitive restoration of icon worship takes place in March 843 as a result of Empress Theodora’s efforts. Success was not an easy task as she needed to gain the support of the church, the army, the nobles, and the public at large. As a result of her efforts in the restoration of icons, she is canonized as a saint in the Easter Christian Church. The famous Menologion of Basil of ca. 1000 attests to this, portraying Theodora with a halo and holding a small round icon. The restoration of icons is more than a story on successful policy making in the Middle Ages or a captivating account of the cultural legacy of an long gone empire. In the context of the times, the policy of restoration can also be viewed as a triumph for the status of women in Byzantine society. Outside of the nunnery it was very rare for a woman to attain a position of power or influence; even communities of nuns were dependent upon an ordained priest. Relegated outside the corridors of power, political or religious, women found fulfillment in the adoration of icons in the privacy of their own homes, so perhaps it is no coincidence that women rulers had a special role in the restoration of icons. MIHAELA LUIZA FLORESCU, Cerritos College, Norwalk, CA High Anxiety: Masculinity in Crisis in Early Modern France, ed. Kathleen P. Long (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University Press 2002) xviii+ 238 pp. The authors of the eleven essays that comprise the anthology High Anxiety: Masculinity in Crisis in Early Modern France, edited by Kathleen P. Long, REVIEWS 236 argue that the social and political upheaval in the period following the French Wars of Religions resulted in an anxiety about masculinity. These authors attempt to tease out the developments of masculinity and the male norm in sixteenth - and seventeenth-century France that would eventually result in the transformation of such institutions such as marriage, monarchy, the market, and the church, in the period leading up to and after the Revolution. The authors, who are primarily scholars of literature or French studies, examine a wide range of sources from pamphlets, fairy tales, jokes, poetry, and medical works to the works of such authors as Montaigne and Labé. The volume opens with “Louise Labé’s Transgressions...

Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium by Judith Herrin (review)

REVIEWS 234 endeavors. Goffman prefaces each chapter with a short “pseudo-biographical vignette.” The vignettes imaginatively reconstruct events in the life of a seventeenthcentury Ottoman emissary named Kubad Çavuş. Their intent, Goffman claims, is to “personalize the historical record” and to convey a “richer and more empathetic understanding” of the Ottoman world through personal detail (xv). The vignettes are an interesting idea and could be an especially effective strategy for engaging the “general and student audience” the series targets (xiii). The first problem with these short narratives is that they are occasionally deficient in the “personality” they hope to convey. While the early vignettes are quite engaging , some of the latter ones are not vivid or novelistic enough to personalize our perspective of the historical master narratives they introduce. The second and even more troubling problem with the narratives is that they are offered as a way to compensate for the “paucity of diaries, memoirs, letters, and similar writings” within the Ottoman historical record (xiv). To assume that the reconstructive work of a twenty-first-century scholar working in the American academy can even approximate the perspective of a seventeenth-century Ottoman is a dubious presumption. Goffman seems aware of his limitations and insists that his “intent is not to concoct fables”; nevertheless, he implies that these tales will “flesh out” a historical record he laments is administrative rather than personal (xiv–xv). The new translations of Ottoman texts available in Nabil Matar’s In the Lands of the Christians, however, do a great deal to remedy the source problem Goffman identifies. The books would make great teaching companions; one could supplement or replace Goffman’s narrative reconstructions with excerpts from the book, or with selections from the famous seventeenth -century Turkish travel writer Evliya Çelebi.5 Goffman’s book fills a useful gap for history instructors and students by presenting an empathetic history of the Ottoman Empire that is both scholarly and accessible. The historiographical questions the book raises about what counts as an Ottoman source and about the “value” of evaluating societies could actually provoke useful pedagogical discussions—as long as instructors encourage their students to read their textbooks critically. Left unchallenged, however, students will probably learn more content than method from the textbook. While the book presents an updated and sympathetic view of the Empire at a critical time, the authoritative tone of the book tends to reify the version of history it contains. Instructors can, nevertheless, find room for discussion and debate between the lines of this rich and detailed text. The book includes plenty of historical quotations and wonderful illustrations that are ripe for analysis; I hope students will be encouraged to grapple with these embedded primary texts for themselves. HOLLY CRAWFORD PICKETT, English, UCLA Judith Herrin, Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium (Princeton: 5 Nabil Matar, ed. and trans., In the Lands of the Christians: Arabic Travel Writing in the Seventeenth Century (New York 2003); Evliya Çelebi, Evliya Çelebi’s Book of Travels : Land and People of the Ottoman Empire in the Seventeenth Century, 5 vols. (Leiden and New York 1988–2000). REVIEWS 235 Princeton University Press, 2001) xi + 304 pp., ill., maps. Judith Herrin graces us with an informative and entertaining account of the rule of three Byzantine empresses, Women in Purple. Irene, Euphrosyne, and Theodora ruled the eastern Mediterranean Christian empire of Byzantium in the eighth and ninth centuries A.D. In addition to the dubious honor of being women rulers in an age when few females yielded such power, all three left lasting contributions to universal art and culture by preserving and protecting the veneration of religious icons in the Eastern Christian Church. The policy against the worship of icons had its beginnings in the seventh century. Throughout the 720s and 730s the Saracens were attacking the outreaches of Byzantium with the ultimate goal of entrenching themselves in the capital city of Constantinople. After a series of defeats at the hands of the Arabs , the Byzantine emperor Leo III, believing that his Arab enemies were granted victory because of their strict stand against the worship of images, issued an edict banning the worship of all icons in his own empire...