The divine image: Hindu murti and Byzantine iconography.
PRECISThis essay seeks to compare the religious art forms of Hinduism with those of Byzantine Christianity. While the traditions behind the Hindu murti and Byzantine icons have developed independently of one another, a side-by-side analysis of the two reveals surprising areas of similarity as well as sharp disparities. It begins with an investigation of the history of the artistic forms and practices, moves on to the theological explanations behind the respective religious traditions' usage of art, and ends with descriptions of how the images are used in popular devotion. The essay highlights what these two religious traditions share by way of the veneration of art in religious practice, while also elucidating the divergent theological commitments undergirding each faith.
When it comes to Abrahamic religions, Christianity is something of an oddity. Whereas Judaism and Islam adhere to a strict interpretation of the Mosaic prohibition against graven images, Christianity has long adopted images not only as didactic tools but also as instruments for worship. In particular, the Byzantine (1) tradition of iconography has developed into a profound ritualistic and theological system that, both in appearances in popular devotion as well as theologically, shares much in common with image-worship commonly found in Hinduism. (2) Although many characteristics serve to distinguish the two systems, a remarkable kinship exists among the artistic forms, the expression of piety, and even the theological explanations of the usage of images in Byzantine churches and Hindu temples. First, we will look at the respective histories of image veneration for both traditions and the typical forms those images take, then explore the theological explanations for how the image is in relation to the one it represents, and, finally, turn to an analysis of popular devotion toward images in both Hinduism and Byzantine Christianity.
History and Form of the Image
First, before turning to a theological exploration, we will analyze the particular forms of style and construction of the Hindu murti ("embodiment," an image) and the Byzantine icon (3) as they developed in their respective histories to see whether and how the images themselves can be compared in any constructive way. We will be analyzing iconic images, as opposed to aniconic images, which are symbolic of the deity but "do not attempt any anthropomorphic form or any representational likeness." (4) While the aniconic images of Hinduism, such as the sacred round stones of the Narmada River or the phallic linga, and those of Christianity, such as the blank cross, are noteworthy for religious expression, it is the iconic images that allow for greater comparison as they constitute a tangible image of the divine's "form."
It is difficult, however, to identify when the ritual usage of images began in Indian religious traditions. Diana Eck has suggested that the ritual tradition of the Aryans and the Vedic period were largely aniconic, with the cult focused primarily around the sacred fire. (5) There is some debate among scholars about this issue, but, due to the paucity of positive evidence, we cannot say there is any "allusion to the making of images of the early Vedic gods and worshipping them." (6) It seems most likely that the emergence of iconic images is intimately bound to the bhakti movement of devotional worship: "The rendering of one's homage was done by various acts of puja in which images were absolutely necessary; these were abhigamana or going to the temple of the deity with the speech, the body and the mind centred on him, upadana or collecting the materials of worship such as flowers, incense, sandal paste, offerings (naivedya)." (7) The popular piety of the bhakti movement is in many ways coextensive with image worship within Hinduism. (8)
The manner in which an image is made is subject to "very definite rules with regard to proportions, positions, gestures," which are found in various places in Hindu scripture, such as the Puranas, the Agamas and the Samhitas. (9) Each god has specific symbols that relate to the various sacred histories, and they are always portrayed in one or another traditional pose. For instance, "Siva holds both the drum and the flame; the Goddess Kali simultaneously wears a gory garland of skulls and gestures her protection." (10) There is not only a canon of tradition by which the artist must abide, but "[a]n image is also supposed to be beautiful, since it will be the abode of a deity." (11) For the artists, or gilpin, the act of creating a sacred image is a religious discipline requiting meditation and purification in order to bring into a form the image the artist has seen in prayer. (12) The artist is also greatly honored within the culture--and in a special way during the consecratory ceremony. While artists must follow a prescribed canon in order to create a valid murti, it is not until the pratisthapana, the solemn rite of installation, that the image becomes an object of worship. Although there are a variety of different rituals for consecrating an image, one chapter from the Brhatsamhita describes an elaborate ceremony that included the bathing of the image with water from various sacred sites, the chanting of mantras, the lighting of a fire, and finally laying the image on a bed, as if sleeping: "When the image has 'slept' its full, it should be roused from sleep with songs and dances and should be installed at a time fixed by the astrologers." (13) The final and most important rite is the prana, or the "breathlife," when a special prayer is said, (14) and "The eyes of the image, which to this point have been sealed with a thick coat of honey and ghee, are now 'opened' by the brahmin priest, who removes the coating with a golden needle." (15)
Byzantine Christian iconography, although having no formal connections with Hinduism, does bear a striking resemblance to Hindu murti, with regard to the forms and the procedures of creating and consecrating the icon. There is some difficulty, just as with Hinduism, in locating the origins of images within Christianity. "Of the appearance of icons of the first centuries of Christianity we have no knowledge, and lack all data for judgment about it." (16) Although there are catacomb paintings from the first and second centuries, they are largely allegorical and symbolic, with images such as an anchor, a fish, and a lamb. There is also the witness that several early Christian authors were explicitly iconoclastic, such as Eusebius of Caesarea (d. 339/40 C.E.) and Epiphanios of Salamis (d. 403 C.E.), which points to the diversity of opinions, as well as the fact that, by the fourth century, iconography was widely practiced. Gradually, the cult of icons spread throughout most of the Christian world, and, by the time of the Byzantine Iconoclastic controversy in the eighth and ninth centuries, images of Christ, the Theotokos, and the saints were ubiquitous in the churches and monastic communities. The Seventh Ecumenical Council (787 C.E.), today celebrated in the East as the "Triumph of Orthodoxy," laid down the theology of the icon that is still current among Byzantine Christians. Although many pre-iconoclastic icons were destroyed in the controversy, it is clear that by the time of the Seventh Ecumenical Council a consistent method and tradition of icon painting had emerged in the East: "[T]he invention of the painters is the icon's creation, but the distinguished institution and tradition belongs to the catholic Church. For to the painter belongs the art only, while the order of fundamentals belongs to the holy Fathers." (17) While it is clear that the styles and traditions of Byzantine iconography have gradually shifted throughout the centuries, there are clear markers of identity and stylistic guidelines that every iconographer necessarily uses in the image. For instance, as one Orthodox theologian explained, "The eyes, the nose, the ears (the sensory organs) are not rendered according to nature, to the anatomical truth, because each of them, having sensed and received the divine Revelation, has become now an organ of the spirit and 'has been changed."' (18) While every aspect cannot be analyzed here, the colors used, postures, hand signals, and expressions of the person depicted in the icon are all meaningful. (19) In addition to the canonical rules for painting an icon, just as we have seen was true for Hinduism, one of the indispensable prerequisites is also beauty. The image must be beautiful because it is depicting the ultimately Beautiful. (20)
The task of creating an icon in the Byzantine churches is not an artistic act alone but a sacred work; thus, it requires strict moral and religious discipline for the iconographer. Unlike most forms of art, the goal of the iconographer is to remove the self as much as possible from the style of the icon, which is why one will never find a signature on an icon. The ideal, then, is not innovation and creativity but conformity to the sacred tradition and inspiration from the Holy Spirit. Iconographers are considered to be witnesses of the sacred realities, which is why they must participate actively in the sacramental life of the Church, as well as have a great deal of personal holiness: "For a true iconographer, creation is the way of asceticism and prayer, that is, essentially, a monastic way." (21) The iconographer begins work with prayer, with prayers continually throughout the process, and typically while fasting. (22) In fact, the creation of an icon is very much aligned with the original act of creation and follows in the steps of the Genesis creation story. The iconographer begins with light, by placing all of the gold leaf on the icon, then proceeds to everything except the exposed skin of the person represented, and ends finally with the hands and the face--thus ending with the person, as did Genesis. In fact, in the process, "everything is indeed dominated by the face." (23) However, just as with Hindu images, the icon is not ready for veneration when the painting is completed, for it must be consecrated by a priest. The icon is brought to the church and placed on the altar where the priest sprinkles it with holy water and prays, in part: "Wherefore we pray You, send forth Your blessing upon this Icon, and with the sprinkling of hallowed water / Bless and make holy this Icon unto Your glory, in honor and remembrance of Your Saint (N); / And grant that this sanctification will be to all who venerate this Icon of Saint (N), and send up their prayer unto You standing before it." (24) The iconographer is then the first to venerate the newly blessed icon before it is given to someone or placed in the church.
Overall, while the theologies between Hindu and Byzantine image-veneration may admit of greater difference, to which we will turn next, the forms that the art takes in its method of creation and blessing, along with the high reverence for the task of the artist, bears noteworthy resemblance between the two religious traditions. However, there is one important manner in which Hindu and Byzantine religious images differ, which is telling for the underlying theological frameworks. Whereas almost all Hindu images used for worship are statues--that is, three- dimensional--Byzantine icons are, as a rule, two-dimensional. While the Western Christian tradition has developed an important place for three-dimensional statues and crucifixes, the Byzantine artistic tradition is decidedly "flat." (25) Nevertheless, the images for both Byzantine Christians and Hindus are not mere decoration for churches or temples but are privileged loci of connection with the divine, and thus the process of creating and consecrating these objects is a sacred tradition in both religions.
The Theology of the Image
Although we cannot assert any uniform theology of the sacred image within Hinduism, as Klostermaier has explained, "the average Hindu still sees in the images a real and physical presence of God and not only a symbolic one." (26) In other words, although some Hindus today will try to explain the images as only symbols of the gods, the traditional and still widely held view is connected to the idea of avatara, or "descent." In particular, the Sri Vaisnava tradition adheres to the system of Pancaratra. As Ramanuja and others taught, God has five forms. The first four forms include Vasudeva, or the Godhead, the four emanations from the Godhead, the descent to earth in a bodily form (an avatar) and the presence of God in the soul. The fifth form, called "arcavatara," is the descent of God into an image. John Carman explained: "The consecrated image is the ultimate in God's 'descent' ... coming down to a level even lower than that of God's human worshipers. This 'real presence' of divine mercy manifests God's grace in physical weakness at the mercy of those who handle--or even mishandle--him." (27)
At the risk of oversimplification, the theology of arcavatara teaches that the image is God, because the divine freely comes into it to dwell, so that devotees may worship God. Within Sri Vaisnava thought, this theology is part of the tension between God's utter transcendence and immanence, not unlike within Christianity. As a Sri Vaisnavite theologian wrote about the image, "here the Almighty becomes the property of the devotee.... He carries Him about, fans Him, feeds Him, plays with Him--yea, the Infinite has become finite, that the child soul may grasp, understand and love Him." (28) It is no wonder, then, that the theology of arcavatara and devotional practice toward images has always been connected to the bhakti movement, with its desire for intimate communion with the divine in tangible ways. The entire theology supporting this thought is based upon both God's immanence and God's incredible love for humankind that results in God's own circumscription in a finite object, which has even been described as the suffering of God. (29)
When the image is adored and honored by the faithful, it is not as a mediatory device. The honor paid to it is not attributed to the God who is elsewhere. "Rather, because the image is a form of the Supreme Lord, it is precisely the image that facilitates and enhances the close relationship of the worshiper and God and makes possible the deepest outpouring of emotions in worship." (30) The image, however, is not merely the "house" of God but is itself transformed when consecrated and inhabited by the divine. The earthly matter that composes the image, be it wood or stone, becomes suddha sattva ("pure nature"), "a nonearthly transcendental substance unique to the deity." (31) While these images that have received the prana rite of consecration are permanently the God, often at the beginning of worship the rite of avahana ("bidding") is used to invoke the God, and the rite of visarjana ("dismissal") is used at the end to allow the deity to take leave. (32) Eck explained that "the bidding and dismissal prayers provide a special framing of the ritual honor offerings, and they make it clear that the omnipresent God is in no sense restricted by the multiple 'image-incarnations' it undertakes." (33) There is then a very real tension within Hindu thought between God's presence in an image and, yet, God's transcendence.
For many Hindus, God is omnipresent and resides in everything and every person, which allows both for a theology of arcavatara and also for a critique of it. While there are many internal debates within Hinduism, one in particular is between bhakas, those who worship God devotionally in images, and yogins and others who view this practice as unenlightened. In fact, this tension is within Hindu scriptures themselves: "The Hindu sastras prescribe image worship to weak unevolved persons in particular. The Jabala-upanishad distinctly asserts that the yogin perceives Siva in his heart, and that images are meant for ignorant men." (34) This is related to the variety of views within Hinduism about navigating the spectrum between polytheism and monotheism. While some Hindus, typically of a more philosophical persuasion, will assert that the vision of the One is the higher truth--and thus consider image worship and polytheism as helpful means but not as ends-- most Hindus do not consider polytheism and monotheism to be opposing views. "For most, the manyness of the divine is not superseded by oneness. Rather, the two are held simultaneously and are inextricably related." (35) For example, approximately seventy percent of Hindus today are Vaisnavas, devotees of Visnu as the supreme God, and they worship one or many avataras of Visnu present within temples and images. For the bhaka, polytheism and multiplicity are the means by which one can approach the one God. (36) Visnu, in his goodness, can be worshiped in particularity, in an image.
In addition to the theological explanation of God's presence in an image, Hindus also have another, more basic concept of the image as "a kind of yantra, literally a 'device' for harnessing the eye and the mind so that the one-pointedness of thought (ekagrata) which is fundamental to meditation can be attained." (37) It is also on this point that some Hindus consider image worship to be for the spiritually immature, because a yogi should see "Siva in the soul and not in images." (38) Nevertheless, for a majority of Hindus, the image is a locus for concentration in meditation and worship. The murti is where one can actually see God; thus, in meditating on the image, one focuses all attention on a single object in an act of single- minded devotion in meditation. The image also serves as a pedagogical device for Hindus. While most Hindus historically, and many today, do not read all of the tales of the gods, they have access to the stories by public readings and, perhaps more importantly, in the images themselves. For instance, the image of Nataraja, or Siva as Lord of the Dance, portrays a four-armed Siva dancing, often in a state of frenzy. This beloved image connotes to Hindus a wide variety of theological imagery and beliefs:
This image reminds the devotee that true reality is beyond all contrasting opposites. In his dance, he tramples underfoot the demon Apasmara.... Shiva carries in his hands both the fire of destruction and the double-sided drum whose beat summons up creation, thus illustrating his position on the very margin between the end of one epoch and the beginning of the next. (39)
This image is then charged with Hindu teachings about the transience of the world, the role of the gods, and the true nature of reality. It is a tool (yantra) for both meditation and instruction. Another example is the highly popular god Krsna, who is often viewed as either the eighth avatar of Lord Visnu, or even as the supreme Lord himself. Images of Krsna, very often as an infant, are some of the most ubiquitous among the bhakti movement, due to its highly appealing devotional imagery and because of the closeness and intimacy to God that the images depict. While Krsna is also imaged as an erotic cowherd or a magical flute-player, the depictions of Krsna as a practical-joke-playing baby inspires in many Hindus a devotion to the god as a mother to a child: "Often he is shown stealing butter or curds, or playing pranks on unsuspecting adults. Like most male children in India, he is doted upon and spoilt." (40) These images are not only arcavataras for the devotee, but they also teach and remind about the sacred stories of the past--in this case, about Krsna as a trickster infant and the various ways he charmed people into a loving relationship with himself.
As we have seen, the two complementary explanations for imagery in Hinduism are the doctrine of God indwelling the image and the image as a pedagogical device. Two similar notions also exist within Byzantine thought, albeit with the former having more major theological differences. However, this former type of explanation about the connection between the image and the divine is a later concept within Christianity. As we will see, it developed largely in response to iconoclasm and became the dominant theological analysis of icons in the East. Before this, however, there was the explanation of the Christian image as the "Bible for the illiterate," or as a catechetical tool for elucidation of Christian beliefs. The earliest images point toward this fact:
The themes of the catacomb paintings, beginning with the Ist and IInd centuries, include, besides allegorical and symbolic representations, such as an anchor, fish, lamb and so forth, a whole series of pictures drawn from the Old and New Testaments.... The fundamental principle of this art is a pictorial expression of the teaching of the Church, by representing concrete events of sacred History and indicating their inner meaning. (41)
The early symbolic imagery functioned to illustrate some mystical reality, such as the lamb's symbolizing Christ as the Lamb of God, and the representations of sacred history, such as scenes from Jesus' life, which were quite literally a Bible for the illiterate, teaching with paint rather than words. This is still a common usage and explanation of iconography today in the Christian East. Some Byzantine theologians explain that the icon is symbolic and intentionally not representational, as is more common in Western Christian art. (42) The icon, they say, is not simply a picture of Jesus or the saints, but it depicts a mystical reality that can be illustrated only in symbolic ways. Although the East did gradually move away from symbolic representation, (43) no longer using such symbols as a lamb or a fish to represent Jesus but is instead more realistic, the Byzantine icon does not attempt to portray Jesus or the saints as they looked historically but, rather, as connoting the divine nature. "Orthodox iconography represents the world regenerated by divine Grace, the world where the unsettling light of God dominates. ... [T]he success of Orthodox art lies precisely in the fact that it has succeeded in making manifest this world of Grace; but, of course, only as far as the available means make it possible." (44) In addition, the icon has always functioned as a catechetical device. For instance, in a Byzantine church on the feast of St. Basil of Caesarea, the church will place an icon of the saint in a prominent place where the faithful can reverence it. The same is true of festal icons, such as the Anastasis of the Lord on Easter and the Dormition of the Theotokos on August 15th; an essential part of celebrating the feast is seeing the sacred images.
While the use of icons as catechetical and representational is the earlier tradition--and still in effect--there eventually emerged a new type of icon theology. In the fourth century, the Cappadocian Fathers were still defending the use of visual arts in Christian worship primarily for their usefulness as educational tools, but by the late fifth century pseudo-Dionysius and others had begun to suggest that the contemplation of material things could lead to the divine. (45) By the eighth century, on the eve of Iconoclasm, "concepts had begun to evolve whereby the Byzantine religious image was to become a means of demonstrating the Incarnation not merely as past history but as a living and perpetual presence. The role of the image ceased to be purely didactic and was in the process of becoming sacramental." (46) Even within the Christian East there was discomfort with these new developments, and contact with both Islam, with its strict ban of any images, and Judaism, with the Mosaic teaching against image-worship, served to intensify the tension felt by the cult of icons.
The Byzantine Emperor Leo III issued several edicts in the late 720's banning the use of icons, and thus "the doctrine condemning the use of icons became legally valid. The icons were destroyed and the iconodules persecuted." (47) Iconoclasm can be seen as a conservative reaction against the "new expression of radical incarnational-realism" and was not without theological backing. (48) The disagreement between the iconoclasts and the iconodules was based on a more fundamental question of "how far the divine is allowed to impinge on the human world." (49) The iconoclasts were very concerned to keep a clear boundary between the sacred and the profane. They considered only the eucharist, the church building and the sign of the cross to be holy because of their consecration, "whereas icons and relics were illegitimately consecrated from below by popular veneration." (50) Because of the strict dichotomy between the sacred and profane in iconoclastic thought, the iconodules, partly out of polemic and partly based on truth, accused them of "denying the two-natures formula of Chalcedon" and being a corollary to Monophysitism or Monothelitism. (51) John Julius Norwich made a helpful observation: "It was therefore not surprising that most of the support for the new movement [iconoclasm] should come from the eastern provinces of the Empire, in which monophysitism had always been more prevalent and which had always been influenced by oriental mystical philosophy, rather than from the more down-to-earth, materialistic West." (52)
The theological defenders of the use of icons, especially John of Damascus and Theodore the Studite, provided what was to become the standard explanation for icon veneration within Christianity. For them, the veneration of icons was not simply an option for church decoration but, rather, a christological necessity based in the fact of the Incarnation. In his three apologies, On the Divine Images, John of Damascus linked the belief in the ability of icons to represent invisible realities with orthodox Christology. He did this by saying that "Christ as the Image of God [is] the summit of a great hierarchy of images extending from Christ through the divine ideas, through man as image of God, through the symbols and types of Holy Scripture down to the memorials and monuments of literature and art." (53) To reach God, he said, one must ascend upward, beginning with knowledge of God through creation, because "God uses visible things as images of the invisible, and the visible is in some measure endowed sacramentally with the virtue of the invisible it represents." (54) Due to the Incarnation, the Damascene said that matter itself was transformed and is now able to lead to the divine. In a well-known passage he stated: "[Because] God is seen clothed in flesh, and conversing with men, I make an image of the God whom I see. I do not worship matter, I worship the God of matter, who became matter for my sake, and deigned to inhabit matter, who worked out my salvation through matter." (55)
Although there have been new developments, almost all Byzantine theology of the icon has been based upon the classic formulations of John of Damascus. Today, then, it is clear that in Byzantine thought the icon is not merely catechetical but is truly a sacramental presence of the one who is depicted. It is also clear, however, that--unlike the Hindu conception of arcavatara--when an icon of Jesus is blessed, Jesus or even a part of his nature does not go into the icon. Rather, according to many theologians, the icon is more akin to a window. Christ has transformed matter, which is thus capable of showing the divine, if only the faithful have eyes to see. Pavel Florensky explained that an iconographer "does not create an image; he does not invent, does not paint a portrait. With his brush he simply lifts the scales that cover our spiritual vision; he parts the curtains (or opens the window) beyond which the original stands." (56) Also, the image is a symbol that shares in the presence of its prototype. John of Damascus did not develop this notion to explain how the image identifies with its prototype; he simply stated, "He who sees the icon, sees Christ; Christ himself is present in his image." (57) Later theologians clarified just how the image and the one imaged are actually connected. They explained that the prototype is not in the image as to its essence, and thus the icon itself is not grace- filled but only participates in the prototype to the extent that it still represents it.
If an icon is damaged to the point that it no longer bears the image, then it will be thrown into a fire like any other piece of wood, without hesitation. Although for differing reasons, this is similar to the Hindu teaching that, if an image is highly damaged, the god will leave it. What is different, however, is that Christ was never actually in the icon but, rather, that there is a "relationship of intention and similarity between the icon and the person of Christ, even in the case of a rather remote similarity, for example, when the artist's skill is wanting." (58) The image is then not itself graced but is in a relationship with that which is represented. Christ, the Theotokos or any saint represented is then present to the icon in an analogous way; even more importantly, the veneration shown to the icon is truly given to the one represented. If one were to speak correctly, the faithful do not pray to an icon, but through the icon to its prototype. All of this is even possible only because Christ has transformed matter by the Incarnation, which makes matter itself capable of having such a relation with the divine.
Florensky again reflected this typically Byzantine approach to the icon by commenting on the iconostasis, which in Russia is very often a floor-to-ceiling wall, by saying the very opposite of what many assume: "Without the iconostasis, for the spiritually blind the sanctuary would be closed off by a 'blank wall.' The iconostasis makes 'windows' in it, through which one can see what takes place beyond it--'the living witnesses of God."' (59) The usage of sacred images within Hinduism and Byzantine Christianity is similar in one fundamental way: The image is a center of devotion both for its helpfulness in meditation and worship and also for its pedagogical function as a "Bible for the illiterate." Beyond this, in the explanations for how the image is related to the person/god represented, each tradition employs very different theological commentary. For Hindus, when the image is consecrated, it is no longer ordinary material but is "transubstantiated" into the god--and, in fact, is the god. For Byzantine Christians, an icon of Christ is not Christ, nor does it even share part of Christ's nature; rather, it possesses an established and very real connection with Christ insofar as he is depicted. To put it simply, in Hinduism the direction of movement is of the god coming to the image, while in Christianity the direction is of the image moving the believer toward Christ. This basic theological distinction may be a major reason why, as mentioned earlier, the two traditions differ so strongly on whether the image is two- or three-dimensional. For a murti, a concrete, three-dimensional image has the "space" that a god may inhabit and presents the god in a more realistic and lifelike manner. The icon, on the other hand, forces the viewer not toward the materiality of the icon but beyond itself to its prototype. This "flatness" creates the aesthetic movement through the image, rather than in the image, to which a solid statue naturally lends itself.
Popular Devotion toward Sacred Images
While we have examined the rubrics for the construction of icons and the typical theological interpretations of images, it is now indispensable to analyze how the faithful actually relate to and pay homage to these images within their traditions. According to both traditions, the image exists to put the faithful in closer contact with the divine, and thus it cannot be analyzed only abstractly without taking into consideration how this devotion actually takes form. Also, for both Hinduism and Eastern Christianity, the veneration of images is perhaps the most ubiquitous practice of piety, as the faithful have these images in their homes and also frequent either temples or churches to see and pray to/though them.
Murti-paja ("image worship") occurs within Hinduism in the home or at the temple, but "[r]ules for it vary greatly from place to place and from sect to sect," although there are instructions that detail how one should worship. (60) The Bhagavata Purana, for instance, says the following:
With clothes, sacred thread, jewels, garlands, and fragrant paste my devotees should decorate my form suitably and with love. With faith my worshippers should then offer me water to wash, sandal, flower, unbroken rice, incense, light, and food of different kinds; ... the devotees should praise me and pray to me that I bless them, and they should prostrate before me. With hands and head at my feet, they should say, "My Lord, from the clutches of death save me who have taken refuge under you!" (61)
Especially when performed in the home, murti-paja is largely considered an act of hospitality to the god. One then treats the image as if it were an honored guest. In many Hindu homes, the puja is solemnly celebrated several times a day, which includes asana, offering a seat to the deity; padya, offering water to wash the deity's feet; offering the deity flowers, incense, food, and money; and circumambulating the image, with "[e]ach individual gesture ... accompanied by appropriate mantras, varying from sect to sect." (62) As Eck astutely commented, "In observing Hindu worship, in the home or in the temple, many Western students are baffled by the sense in which it appears to be an elaborate form of 'playing house' with God." (63) Due to the idea of arcatvatara, when a Hindu washes or offers flowers to an image, the honor is not considered somehow "transferred" to the god but, rather, is a direct form of honor to the god actually present in the image. What seems to be "playing house" with the god is for the bhaka an affirmation of the closeness of the god who comes into the image as an honored guest. One then not only prays to the god in the image but also serves the god by various acts of praise and homage. Both in the home and especially in the temple puja is an experience that utilizes the whole body and in which the devotee expresses honor to the god in all the ways in which humans honor each other. It is "an occasion for awakening the senses and directing them toward the divine." (64)
For Byzantine Christians, image veneration occurs both within the church-- before, during, and after the Divine Liturgy--and also in the home, where many have personal icons, often gathered together on one wall, called an "icon corner," where one can pray, typically facing the East. The icons within one's home serve as a center of devotion and are in some sense a domestic altar. Icons are found everywhere in countries such as Greece and throughout Eastern Europe. Not only in the home but also along the streets icons are housed in small shrines for pedestrians to stop and pray. Within a church, which is the icon's primary locus, there are icons typically along all the walls and even more set up on stands to which the faithful often light candles and pray. One author describes how the faithful use icons within a church:
When the Orthodox enters the church he offers a candle to the icon on the proskynetarion, kisses it, proceeds to the wonder-working icon, if the church has one, and to the lower icons of the iconostasis, where one finds the most ancient and often miraculous icons. Having venerated them, the faithful would contemplate the upper icons which display Christ's redemptive work." (65)
Very much like Hindu puja, Byzantine Christians will kiss, prostrate before, touch with the hands and forehead, light candles, and offer incense to the image. However, it is not treated anthropomorphically as in Hinduism, and it is never washed or offered food. The icon is usually in a fixed location, unless carried in procession. Icons are clearly not considered simply as art either in Byzantine theology or in popular devotion. While the icons are respected and preserved, they are, above all, used. In fact, they endure a great deal of wear over time, as they are constantly touched, censed, and at times sprinkled with holy water. For both Hindus and Eastern Christians, the image is a source of some sort of grace and blessing. As Eck has explained, "The central act of Hindu worship ... is to stand in the presence of the deity and to behold the image with one's own eyes, to see and be seen by the deity." (66) Likewise, for a Byzantine Christian to look into the eyes of an icon of Christ and to pray is to be seeing and praying directly to Christ.
On a theological level, we have seen that Byzantine Christians and Hindus have views of the image's relation to the divine that are in many ways irreconcilable. However, both relate their views to an understanding of God's desire for intimacy and relationally. For Hindus this means that arcavatara is understood within the overall context of God's presence in the world, in an actual avatar, in gurus and saints, and also in the murti. For the Christian, an icon has the possibility to be in relationship to its prototype due to the historical fact of the Incarnation, by which Christ transformed matter into potentially bearing the divine. The icon is not another Incarnation but, rather, a window into the sacred realities. There is a tension between transcendence and immanence when comparing these two theological systems. For a Christian, God has become ultimately immanent by becoming a human, a claim much more radical than the Hindu avatar, for the avatar does not take on human flesh but is composed of a special "pure matter unlike ordinary material bodies." (67) Conversely, whereas Christ's Incarnation attests to a greater immanence, and an avatara to more transcendence, the opposite is true regarding sacred images. The murti, as the actual presence of God, claims a far greater immanence than the Byzantine icon, which participates in and gives visibility to another reality. Both, however, claim that the image is not an empty sign but in some positive sense participates in the divine.
The real points of comparison are on the level of the creation of, and popular devotion to the images. In fact, on a strictly empirical level, it would be difficult to find large differences between how a Hindu pays homage to the images in a temple and how a Christian venerates icons in a church. Although differing as to the specific rituals, when a Hindu visits each image in a temple and a Christian walks through a church prostrating before icons, an uninformed observer would likely assume the two to be doing the same thing. Perhaps this perceived, and to some extent real, spiritual similarity is based primarily in an anthropological need for tangibility. Hinduism and Christianity profess that God is not absent from the world but can be found and related to in highly intimate ways. Both religious traditions, albeit based on radically different conceptions of God, have incorporated into daily popular piety a way of relating to God in such a manner that one can touch and even see the divine.
* The author thanks Bradley Malkovsky for his conversations and guidance during the process of writing this essay.
(1) I use "Byzantine" rather than "Eastern Orthodox" because there are many Eastern Catholics who are also ritually Byzantine and share the same traditions and iconography as the Orthodox.
(2) I use "Hinduism" while recognizing that it is an umbrella term covering a great many sects and religious schools with a wide variety of beliefs, spiritualities, and practices, Yet, because the practice of image worship is common to nearly all of them, "Hinduism" will be used as a general appellation.
(3) Although "icon" may be used more generally as a synonym for "image," for the sake of clarity in this essay "icon" is used only as related to the Byzantine Christian tradition of iconography. Likewise, "murti" will be used only in relation to Hinduism, while more general terms, such as "image" and "representation," will be used to discuss the art in both traditions.
(4) Diana L. Eck, Darsan: Seeing the Divine linage in India, 3rd ed. (New York; Columbia University Press, 1998), p. 32.
(5) Ibid., pp. 32-33.
(6) Jitendra Nath Banerjea, The Development of Hindu Iconography (Calcutta: University of Calcutta, 1956; New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers, 1974), p. 57.
(7) Ibid., p. 78.
(8) Eck has shown that, while there were iconic images earlier in India, it was not until temples were constructed (beginning at least in the fourth century C.E., in the Gupta period) that the images would be used in worship (see Eck, Darsan, pp. 38-39).
(9) Klaus K. Klostermaier, A Survey of Hinduism, 3rd ed. (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 2007 [orig., 1989]), p. 264.
(10) Eck, Darsan, p. 41; emphasis in original.
(11) Ibid, p. 51.
(12) See ibid, p. 52.
(13) Chapter on Pratima-pratisthapanam from the Brhatsamhita, freely translated by Banerjea from chap. 59 of Sudhakar Dvivedi's Edition, in his Development of Hindu Iconography, "Appendix A," pp. 566-567.
(14) "O Visnu, approach this image and wake it up with thy embodiment of knowledge and the divine energies, which are concentrated in this one image," quoted in Eck, Darsan, pp. 52-53, from Agni Purana 60 (E.T. by M. N. D. Shastri [Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanscrit Series Office, 1967]).
(15) Eck, Darsan, p. 53.
(16) Leonid Ouspensky, "The Meaning and Language of Icons," in Leonid Ouspensky and Vladimir Lossky, eds., The Meaning of Icons, tr. G. E. H. Palmer and E. Kadloubovsky (Boston, MA: Boston Book and Art Shop, 1969; 2nd rev. ed.: Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1989; orig.: Der Sinn der Ikonen [Bern: U. Graf, 1952]), p. 28 (26) [pagination is from the Boston edition, with the Crestwood revision in parentheses, where it differs].
(17) Canon of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, quoted in Constantine D. Kalokyris, The Essence of Orthodox Iconography (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1971), p. 46.
(18) Kalokyris, Essence, p. 53. It is clear on this point how Byzantine iconography differs from Western forms of sacred art. For instance, the West tends toward realism when portraying Christ and the saints, whereas the East attempts to make the image signify the mystical reality (i.e., Christ's divinity, not just humanity).
(19) For a helpful exploration of many of the main symbols used, see ibid., pp. 51-75. For an explanation of the type of paint and wood used, see Leonid Ouspensky, "'The Technique of Iconography," in Ouspensky and Lossky, Meaning of Icons, pp. 51-55.
(20) "On the plane of human creative work, beauty is the crowning given by God, the seal of the conformity of the image to its prototype, of the symbol to what it represents, that is, to the Kingdom of the Spirit. The beauty of an icon is the beauty of the acquired likeness to God" (Ouspensky, "Meaning and Language of Icons," p. 36 [35]).
(21) Ibid., p. 43 (42).
(22) See a wonderful interview with an Old Believer iconographer, currently living in Pittsburgh, that illustrates his lifestyle and work: http://byztex.blogspot.com/2011/03/old- believer-iconographer-inpittsburgh.html. For an example of the prayers, see http://www.ikonograph.com/prayers.html.
(23) Paul Evdokimov, L'Orthodoxie, Theophanie (Paris: Desclee de Brouwer, 1979), p. 228; my translation from the French.
(24) From the website of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America, where the complete prayer can be found: http://www.goarch.org/chapel/liturgical_texts/icon_blessing.
(25) While images in relief are allowed in the Byzantine tradition, this is clearly distinguished from statuary. There also seems to be evidence that many early Christians opposed religious sculptures due to a desire to distinguish Christian from pagan art forms. The iconoclastic movement more strongly opposed Christian sculptures than paintings (icons).
(26) Klostermaier, Survey, p. 267.
(27) John B. Carman, Majesty and Meekness: A Comparative Study of Contrast and Harmony in the Concept of God (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1994), pp. 195-196.
(28) Pillai Lokacarya, as quoted in Eck, Darsan, p. 46, from Bharatan Kumarappa, The Hindu Conception of the Deity as Culminating in Ramanuja (London: Luzac and Co., 1934), pp. 316- 317.
(29) Klostermaier, Survey, p. 267.
(30) Eck, Darsan, p. 46.
(31) Edward P. Hahnenberg, "Arcavatara: Srivaisnava Image-Descent and Roman Catholic Eucharist," J.E.S. 37 (Spring, 2001): 193.
(32) Although, even in a permanently consecrated image, if the image suffers major damage, the God leaves it.
(33) Eck, Darsan, p. 50.
(34) T. A. Gopinatha Rao, Elements of Hindu Iconography, Vol. 1, Part I (Madras: The Law Printing House, 1914), p. 26.
(35) Eck, Darsan, p. 28.
(36) "The genealogies and family trees of the main deities that we meet so frequently in the Puranas arc attempts, not always successful, to coordinate the various popular deities and to make them appear, if not as manifestations of the one God, then at least as his children or servants" (Klostermaier, Survey, p. 116).
(37) Eck, Darsan, p. 45.
(38) Jabaladarsana Upanisad 3.59, as quoted in Eck, Darsan, p. 45, from Pandita Jagadisa Sastri, ed., Upanisatsangraha (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1970).
(39) T. Richard Blurton, Hindu Art (London: British Museum Press for the Trustees of the British Museum, 1992; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), p. 86.
(40) Ibid., p. 133.
(41) Ouspensky, "Meaning and Language of Icons," pp. 28-29 (26-27).
(42) It must be noted that these comments are often highly polemical and, while over-generalizing the art and piety of East and West, point to some general truths about their differences.
(43) Even before Byzantine iconoclasm officially began under Leo III, there was a move against symbolism, as seen by the Council of Trullo in 692, which declared that "Christ could only be represented as a man, and no longer in symbols, such as a lamb" (Paul Meyendorff, "Introduction" to St. Germanus of Constantinople, On the Divine Liturgy, tr., intro., and comm. Paul Meyendorff [Crestwood, NY: St. Via dimir's Seminary Press, 1984], p. 50).
(44) Kalokyris, Essence, p. 24.
(45) See Ernst Kitzinger, "The Cult of Images in the Age before Iconoclasm," Dumbarton Oaks Papers, vol. 8 (1954), pp. 83-150.
(46) Ibid, pp. 142-143; emphasis added.
(47) George Ostrogorsky, History of the Byzantine State, rev. ed., tr. Joan Hussey (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1969), p. 164.
(48) Robert Taft, The Byzantine Rite: A Short History, American Essays in Liturgy Series (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1992), p. 47.
(49) Sebastian Brock, "Iconoclasm and the Monophysites," from Anthony Rryer and Judith Herrin, eds., Iconoclasm: Papers Given at the Ninth Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, University of Birmingham, March, 1975 (Birmingham, U.K.: Centre for Byzantine Studies, University of Birmingham, 1977), p. 57.
(50) Paul A. Hollingsworth and Anthony Cutler, "Iconoclasm," in Alexander P. Kazhdan, ed., The Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium (New York and Oxford, U.K.: Oxford University Press, 1991), vol. 2, p. 976.
(51) See Meyendorff, "Introduction," p. 50. It is quite interesting that the iconoclastic Council of Hieria accused the supporters of icons of being akin to both monophysitism and Nestorianism.
(52) John Julius Norwich, Byzantium: The Early Centuries (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1988), pp. 354-355.
(53) John Eisner, "Image and Iconoclasm in Byzantium," Art History 11 (December, 1988): 478.
(54) Edward James Martin, A History of the Iconoclastic Controversy (London: SPCK, 1930), p. 119.
(55) St. John of Damascene, On Holy Images, tr. Mary H. Allies (London: Thomas Baker, 1898), pp. 15-16.
(56) Victor Bychkov, The Aesthetic Face of Being: Art in the Theology of Pavel Florensky, tr. Richard Pevcer and Larissa Volokhonsky (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1993), p. 80.
(57) Christoph Schonborn, God's Human Face: The Christ-Icon, tr. Lothar Krauth (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1994), p. 197.
(58) Ibid, p. 228.
(59) Bychkov, Aesthetic Face, p. 75.
(60) Klostermaier, Survey, p. 267.
(61) Quoted in ibid., p. 268, from Bhagavata Purana XI, 27, 20 ff.
(62) Klostennaier, Survey, p. 130.
(63) Eck, Darsan, p. 46.
(64) Ibid, p. 49.
(65) George Galavaris, The Icon m the Life of the Church: Doctrine, Liturgy, Devotion, Iconography of Religions, sec. 24: Christianity, fasc. 8 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1981), pp. 5-6. It would also be a fruitful comparison to examine the presence of wonder-working and miraculous images in both Hinduism and Christianity. In both traditions, images that originate without human intervention (e.g., Our Lady of Guadalupe for Western Christians) and images that exhibit supernatural gilts (e.g., the milk miracle of Ganesha, or myrrh-streaming icons) draw countless faithful.
(66) Eck, Darsan, p. 3.
(67) Carman, Majesty and Meekness, p. 198.
Jonathan Martin Ciraulo (Catholic) has a B.A. in religion from George Fox University, Newberg, OR; and an M.T.S. in liturgical studies from the University of Notre Dame, South Bend, IN (2012). He is presently working on a Ph.D. in systematic theology at Notre Dame. In the Summer of 2011, he took French immersion at Alliance Francaise in Paris. His articles have appeared in Cistercian Studies Quarterly (2011), Assembly: A Journal of Liturgical Theology (2011), The Heythrop Journal (2012), and J.E.S. (Winter, 2013); his reviews, in Cistercian Studies Quarterly (2012) and J.E.S. (Spring, 2013). He has presented papers at conferences at George Fox, Notre Dame, and Mundelein Seminary. In the Fall of 2012, he taught at Sociedad San Juan in Buenos Aires, and he has facilitated online theology courses at Notre Dame's Institute for Church Life during the Spring of 2013.
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| Author: | Ciraulo, Jonathan Martin |
|---|---|
| Publication: | Journal of Ecumenical Studies |
| Article Type: | Essay |
| Geographic Code: | 1USA |
| Date: | Sep 22, 2013 |
| Words: | 8283 |
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