In the history of the Christian church, there have been two very significant documents related to an argument against all visual representations of Jesus, an argument commonly called the Christological argument. The first document is a statement of the decisions of a church council held near Constantinople in 754. The second document is the eighteenth century book by Ralph Erskine, Faith No Fancy. The eighth century and the eighteenth century versions of the Christological argument have much in common, but they also have their differences. Each version was also associated with a particular understanding of the Lord’s Supper.
Let’s begin with the eighth century Christological argument. A church council in the year 754 condemned all images representing Jesus in His humanity based on the Christological argument. A subsequent church council in 787 reversed this decision and also condoned the veneration of images as an element of Christian worship. The 787 church council was the Second Council of Nicea, the seventh and last of the early ecumenical councils recognized by both the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. After the 787 council, the controversy flared up again in the east but was soon settled permanently in favor of those who venerated images.
After this, the eighth century Christological argument seemed largely forgotten. The eighth century Christological argument had stirred up controversy in the eastern churches associated with Constantinople but not in the western churches associated with Rome. Also, as we will see, the eastern understanding of images of Christ soon changed in a way that made the eighth century Christological argument irrelevant even in the east.
In the years leading up to the 754 council, the eastern emperor Constantine V originated the eighth century Christological argument. His main critic was John of Damascus, a Christian theologian who lived in an area under Muslim control where he was free to criticize the emperor’s views. These two opponents shared a common foundational understanding about the basic nature of any visual representation of Jesus. They both regarded such images as natural images as opposed to artificial and external images. Using modern comparisons, this means that their common understanding of an image of Jesus had more in common with a clone, which is a natural image, than it had with a digital picture, which is an artificial and external image. Their common foundational understanding was based on the idea that God the Son as the divine image of God the Father is the pattern for understanding the relationship of a visual image of Jesus to Jesus himself. God the Son is a natural image of God the Father in that they both are fully divine and thus both have the same nature. Thus, they reasoned, a visual image of Jesus must also be a natural image of Jesus. They shared this understanding of visual images of Jesus but came to opposite conclusions. John of Damascus believed that such images should be venerated, and Constantine V believed that they should be prohibited. There was no thought of the possibility that there could be an artificial and external visual representation of Jesus in His humanity that was neither a proper object of worship nor a necessary object of censure.
The eighth century Christological argument presented a dilemma regarding any visual representation of Jesus that was regarded as a true natural image. A summary statement of this dilemma is found in the decisions of the 754 council:
Whoever, then, makes an image of Christ, either depicts the Godhead which cannot be depicted, and mingles it with the manhood (like the Monophysites), or he represents the body of Christ as not made divine and separate and as a person apart, like the Nestorians. (Percival, p. 544)
In other words, if anyone tried to make a visual representation of Jesus that was a true natural image, he had to choose his poison, either monophysitism or Nestorianism. A true natural image of a monophysite Jesus is theoretically possible because the human and divine natures are blended and thus are depictable in a true natural image through the human element. Also, a true natural image of a Nestorian Jesus is theoretically possible because the human and divine natures are separated, with a divine person subsisting in the one divine nature and a human person subsisting in the human nature. The human person subsisting in a human nature is depictable in a true natural image separate from the divine person subsisting in the one divine nature. Yet an orthodox Jesus is not depictable through a true natural image. The orthodox doctrine, affirmed by the Council of Chalcedon in 451, is that Jesus has two natures, the one divine nature and a complete and genuine human nature, that are never separated but also never mixed or confused. For anyone who tries to make a true natural image of Jesus, the choice is between either depicting the undepictable or separating the inseparable. Both choices involve a serious Christological heresy: either Nestorianism, which separates the two natures, or monophysitism, which blends the two natures. With both horns of the dilemma rejected, the implication was that all visual representations of Jesus should be prohibited and avoided. This argument was very effective in a context where Christological heresy was taken very seriously.
Yet the eighth century Christological argument did not deprive the church of every possible visible representation of Jesus. The 754 council pointed to the Lord’s Supper as a valid visual image of Jesus. What finite humans could not do through icons, God could do miraculously through the Lord’s Supper. According to the eighth century Christological argument’s understanding of a valid image, the Lord’s Supper must be a true natural image of Jesus in order to be a valid image of Jesus. If the Lord’s Supper is not a miraculously effected natural image of Jesus, then the dilemma of the eighth century Christological argument would apply to it as well. The same 754 council that stated the eighth century Christological argument also made this statement regarding the Lord’s Supper:
And the body of Christ is made divine, so also this figure of the body of Christ, the bread, is made divine by the descent of the Holy Spirit; it becomes the divine body of Christ by the mediation of the priest who, separating the oblation from that which is common, sanctifies it. (Percival 2011, p. 544)
The elements of the Lord’s Supper understood as a true natural image of Jesus must incorporate the literal physical body and blood of Jesus. This understanding of the Lord’s Supper is a logical implication of the eighth century Christological argument.
The dilemma of the eighth century Christological argument could have been avoided altogether if visual representations of Jesus in his humanity had been regarded as artificial and external images. This insight was not suggested until later by Patriarch Nicephorus (c. 758-828), who was the first to give an effective answer to the eighth century Christological argument. John of Damascus had thought in terms of ontological Platonic participation. In contrast, Patriarch Nicephorus analyzed the issue in terms of Aristotelian logic. In his argumentation against the eighth century Christological argument, Patriarch Nicephorus defined the icon as an artificial external image:
It is a likeness of its living model, and through this likeness it expresses the entire visible form of the one it depicts; yet it remains in essence distinct from this model because it is of a different matter. (Schoenborn 2011, location 3036, p. 87)
With this understanding of visual representations of Jesus in his humanity, the eighth century Christological argument became irrelevant.
Sadly the eastern church continued its veneration of icons of Jesus. A third and final foundational thinker on this issue arose in the eastern church, Theodore the Studite (729-856). Like Patriarch Nicephorus, he explained images in Aristotelian relational terms and not in Platonic terms of ontological participation. Yet he went beyond Patriarch Nicephorus by clearly stating that to see an icon of Christ is to look upon the divine person of Christ. The basic contention of Theodore the Studite was that an icon of a person depicts not that person’s nature but that person’s person. He claimed that the personal connection between a visual image of Jesus and Jesus himself was the icon’s physical resemblance to the historical Jesus. The eastern church had a legend explaining how the knowledge of Jesus’ physical appearance had been preserved for use in painting icons. Like John of Damascus, Theodore the Studite held to an intrinsic connection between the image and its prototype, though on the level of personhood and not on the level of essential nature.
The 754 council became irrelevant even in the east, and many of its documents were lost. We know about their content mainly from their being quoted by the 787 council in the process of condemning them. We do not later read about the eighth century Christological argument even as a defense of the iconoclasm associated with the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century. The Protestant Reformer Peter Martyr did mention the 754 church council and the eighth century Christological argument, but only to express his disagreement with the argument. John Calvin also mentioned the 754 church council but not in an effort to glean an argument against the worship of images. Calvin noted both the anti-image council in 754 and the pro-image council in 787 as part of his argument that church councils can disagree with one another and therefore cannot be infallible. In the course of his argument, Calvin implied his agreement with the 754 council’s decision to remove images from churches and strongly condemned the 787 council’s approval of worshipping images. Yet his main contention was that “… we cannot otherwise distinguish between councils that are contradictory and discordant, which have been many, unless we weigh them all … in the balance of all men and angels, that is, the Word of the Lord” (Institutes 21:1173 4.9.9). Calvin did not mention the eighth century Christological argument.
After the eighth century controversy, the Christological argument did not receive any significant attention to my knowledge until Ralph Erskine in the eighteenth century wrote his book Faith No Fancy. Ralph Erskine was apparently not even aware of the eighth century Christological argument when he began writing his book. Well into the writing, he revealed that he had learned about the 754 church council and the eighth century Christological argument through reading Peter Martyr:
Then [Peter Martyr in Loc. Com.] makes mention of the seventh synod, (which was not allowed by the Papists, and) which was held by Constantine and his son: wherein it was decreed, “That Christ was not to be painted, feigned or figures, no not as touching his human nature. And the reason is set down and assigned, because it is not possible to describe by art any thing else but his human nature. Wherefore they that make such things, seems to embrace the Nestorian error, which separated the human nature from the divine.” When above I supposed Mr. Robe’s doctrine of mental imagery touching Christ’s human nature to savour of Nestorianism, I had not glanced at this passage, so as to see my opinion fortified by the decree of such an ancient synod. (page 294)
At this point, a little historical background to Ralph Erskine’s development of the eighteenth Christological argument would be helpful. In Massachusetts, Jonathan Edwards wrote an account of the awakening that occurred in his church from 1734 to 1735. An unabridged version entitled A Faithful Narrative was published in London in 1737, and reprints appeared in Edinburgh in 1737 and 1738. In 1741, Edwards preached a sermon on the distinguishing marks of a true spiritual awakening. This was published under the title The Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God. Editions were published in London, Edinburgh and Glasgow in 1742. Also in 1742, Edwards’s earlier work A Faithful Narrative helped inspire awakenings in two congregations of the Church of Scotland, William McColloch’s church at Cambuslang and James Robe’s church at Kilsyth. George Whitefield then preached in these churches in June 1742. Ralph Erskine and James Fisher were members of the Associate Presbytery, a group that had seceded from the Church of Scotland in 1733. According to James Robe, Fisher sent circular letters “Misrepresenting this blessed Work as a Delusion, and Work, of the Devil, very soon after its first Appearance at Cambuslang.” On July 15, 1742, the Associate Presbytery called for their churches to fast on August 4 in response to Whitefield’s ministry in Scotland and the alleged works of delusion. James Robe quickly wrote a book defending the Scottish awakenings, and Fisher quickly responded with a critical review. This was followed by a series of published letters between Robe and Fisher. After Robe’s fourth letter, Ralph Erskine wrote Faith No Fancy in 1745 as his definitive response to Robe.
In The Distinguishing Marks, Jonathan Edwards had made this comment about mental images:
Such is our nature that we can’t think of things invisible, without a degree of imagination. I dare appeal to any man, of the greatest powers of mind, whether or no he is able to fix his thoughts on God or Christ, or the things of another world, without imaginary ideas attending his meditations? (Edwards 2009, 236)
Fisher criticized the above comment by Edwards, and Robe responded by defending it. In his fourth and final public letter to Fisher, Robe stated,
That we cannot think upon Jesus Christ really as he is, God and Man in two distinct Natures, and one Person for ever, without an imaginary Idea of him as Man, or in his human Nature, consisting of a true Body, and a reasonable Soul … And as we ought to form no imaginary Idea of him as he is God, but a pure Conception without any Form of Representation of him as God in our Minds…
and
That we cannot receive the Lord Jesus Christ, as offered to us in the Gospel, without an imaginary Idea or Conception of him as Man. (pp. 30-31)
Refuting this latter statement was the basic purpose of Ralph Erskine’s book Faith No Fancy. The fancy was then a term for the human imagination, and Ralph Erskine argued in his book that saving faith cannot involve an imaginary idea of Jesus in his humanity.
I believe that James Robe went too far in claiming that a mental image of Jesus in his humanity is a necessary component of saving faith. He should have argued that such a mental image can be a thing indifferent. Yet his claim is understandable considering the epistemology of the time. Aristotle had said, “… as without sensation a man would not learn or understand anything, so at the very time when he is actually thinking he must have an image before him” (Aristotle, De Anima, III.8). An old scholastic maxim similarly said that nothing is in the intellect that is not first in the senses. John Locke (1632-1704), whose epistemology was popular at the time, had similar ideas.
Ralph Erskine and James Robe had some common ideas on epistemology. They both believed that images come into the imagination either through the senses or from memory. Images are first constructed in the imagination and then interpreted in the intellect or understanding. I think that all parties would have agreed on these basic principles. Robe seemed to believe that the work of the imagination and the intellect in processing an image is instantaneous. In his second letter, Robe spoke of images being “presented to the Understanding, as they are formed in the Imagination…” Ralph Erskine spoke as if there is a critical delay between the work of the sensitive faculty and the work of the intellective faculty in processing an image.
In Ralph Erskine’s understanding, when one has a mental image, there is always an instant during which the image is in the imagination before it is interpreted by the understanding. With a mental image that represents Jesus in his humanity, there would be this instant before the intellect identified the image as representing the God-man Jesus. Ralph Erskine focused on that instant and labeled it as atheistic and the undefined mental image as a moral abomination and a half-Christ. In that instant, the mental image was separated from the divine person of Christ and so it was Nestorian. This was Ralph Erskine’s eighteenth Christological argument that was based primarily on Jesus’ person rather than his two natures.
At times, Ralph Erskine sounded like he believed that a mental image of Jesus had to be an essential image in order to represent Jesus properly. An essential image is one in which the image embodies the person of the prototype. Ralph Erskine’s solution was to think about Jesus only in terms of propositional statements in the intellect or understanding without any mental images in the imagination. The solution that I would suggest is to accept that mental images are artificial and external images as opposed to natural images or essential images.
Ralph Erskine’s understanding of mental images also affected his understanding of the Lord’s Supper. In the system which he used to argue against mental images of Jesus, sensory information was not only spiritually useless but even spiritually harmful. To try to reconcile this with the reality of the sensual ordinances of the word and sacraments, Erskine adopted a form of occasionalism. Why does a bell ring when it is struck? The ordinary explanation is that this is due to cause and effect based upon the nature of both the bell and the striker as God has made them and upholds them. Occasionalism denies this and claims that God makes the bell ring through a direct or immediate supernatural action, and God chooses to do this on the occasion of the bell’s being struck. Similarly the sensory data received from the ordinances are never spiritual helps in strengthening and confirming the believer’s faith. Their administration is instead only the occasion upon which God has chosen to strengthen and confirm the believer’s faith through a direct supernatural act. In this way, God is able to use something allegedly harmful, such as sensory data, in a way that is spiritually helpful.
In his Fourth Letter, Robe stated, “The Works of God and the Sacraments, manifest him to us by the Eye, as doth also the Word read by us, and the Word preached, or otherwise taught by the Ear.” (page 61) What Robe here described as helpful, Ralph Erskine proclaimed to be hurtful:
But, however [Robe] states the matter, I think he wrongs himself more than I did, by his own assertion here, p. 61. “That though we cannot have the saving knowledge of God without the inward and effectual teaching of the Holy Spirit, yet, without the help of our senses and imagination in an ordinary way, we cannot have the saving knowledge which is the effect of the Spirit’s teaching.” Here is strange help that the Spirit of God must have, and without which his teaching signifies nothing unto salvation, namely, the help of our natural senses and imagination. But what help these can give, I have already shewn, even no help at all, but hurt. (p. 243)
In his further discussion, Ralph Erskine made the distinction between a help and an occasion:
We have the knowledge of God and his perfections by the intervention of providence in many things, which are yet no ways helpful to the saving knowledge of him, and the use that God makes of these things, does not infer their helpfulness in themselves to this end. The argument here confounds occasions with helps; which yet ought to be kept distinct. It confounds occasions that God takes to himself for making himself known, with helps that he prescribes or gives to us for our knowing of him. (p. 244)
After quoting Robe’s statement about the sacraments that is quoted above from Robe’s fourth letter, Ralph Erskine went on to say,
Why then Mr. Robe’s meaning is, All the knowledge of God we have by hearing his word read or preached, and by seeing his works, and the sensible signs in the sacraments, is attained by the intervention of our senses and imagination; which are helpful to that saving knowledge of God and his perfections, by presenting the images of these signs unto them; these sensible signs, whether the works or word of God, having left their species or image upon the imagination. This indeed is the doctrine that I oppose, as not the doctrine of faith, but of fancy. (p. 245)
Ralph Erskine then presented the false dilemma that in the application of redemption, either the sensory data of the word and sacraments accessed with the aid of sense and imagination, work automatically apart from faith, or else not at all. This is an argument for the second option, since the first option is obviously false. This false choice omits the option that God can use data accessed with the aid of sense and imagination in communicating the gospel message while working faith in the heart. Here is Ralph Erskine’s argument:
Thus, as what is visible in the sacrament, and to be seen by sensible signs, is suited unto faith only, without any aid of sense and imagination, otherwise, if all were the object of the sense of seeing, there would be no need of faith; so I may say the same about hearing the word, or the reading of it: As these are mere natural acts of the ear and eye, or of the bodily senses as such, they belong not at all to religion, no more than the hearing of sounds and voices, or the viewing of words and letters: … (p. 246)
Here are some quotations from Faith No Fancy listed in their order of occurrence in the book:
We read of the mystery of faith, but to conceive of Christ as man is indeed no mystery at all: yea, to conceive of him as man, and yet at the same time to conceive of him and receive him as God-man, are flat contradictions; and, till faith get itself shaken loose of that unprofitable mate, the imaginary idea of him as man, it will never believe to any profit or advantage, nor believe either to the saving of the soul, Heb. x. 39. (pp. xiii-xiv)
That the glorious object of faith is thus divided, that one part of it may be the object of this idea, and another part the object of another idea; one part of it laid before the sensitive, another part before the intellectual faculty of the soul; as if Christ in his person were divided, and part of the division were conceivable by fancy and imagination, and part of it by a mere act of the understanding; and as if a whole Christ were not the object of faith, but a part of him the object of any man’s imaginary idea. (p. 30)
[Mr. Robe] can think no otherwise of other men, than to think they are persons: For to think of a man, and not of a human person, is impossible; for none can think of a nature without a subject, or a human nature without a human person, wherein that nature exists, (of which more afterwards): Even so, the imaginary idea of Christ as man, or in his human nature, as Mr. Robe speaks, necessarily makes him at best think of a human person. And here is the very root and spring of old Nestorianism, making Christ to have two persons, a human and a divine, as well as two natures. Mr. Robe may profess this is not his principle, that Christ is a human person: If so, then he must deny his present doctrine, namely, that he can have an imaginary idea of Christ as man, in the manner and way he thinks of other men. Why, he thinks truly and rightly of other men; because, as men, they are persons: But he thinks falsely of Christ as man; because, as man, he is no person. Therefore his fancy of Christ as man, is indeed but a fancy. One may feed himself with the vain and vile notion of Christ as man, but I can venture to say, as a minister of Christ, that he never saw Christ’s human nature by faith, nor ever had a right thought of it, who never could think of it but as he thinks of other men. (p. 34–35)
Natural imagination cannot conceive a human nature that is not a person, no more than it can conceive a predicate without a subject, a mountain without a valley, or a property, such as white or black, without conceiving something or other as the subject wherein these properties are to be seen: Consequently, even the human nature of Christ, which is not a person, cannot be the object of an imaginary idea, but only of faith upon a divine testimony. (p. 55)
Again, to conceive of a human nature without a human person, is impossible; for none can form the idea of a nature without a subject in which that nature exists, suitable to its nature: So that a human nature without a human person, or subject in which it exists, cannot be imagined. (p. 58)
Let Mr. Robe try his hand, if he can get a limner to paint the likeness of a man, without painting the likeness of a person, or the figure of a human nature, without painting a human subject, in which it is supposed to exist. Even as little can he paint the figure of Christ as man in his mind, or form in his brain the idea of his human nature, without the idea of a human person: So that the idea he here contends for must of necessity make him, whether he will or not, to be a rank Nestorian; that is, of a principle, maintaining Christ to be a human person, as well as a divine one, and as having two persons, as well as two natures; a principle condemned by all the christian churches ever since the day of Nestorius. It is true, Mr. Robe asserts, that Christ hath two distinct natures, and one person. But, if he maintains this as his principle, then he must renounce this principle anent the imaginary idea of Christ as man, as a principle hurtful, instead of being helpful to faith; otherwise he maintains direct contradictions; since there is no conceiving of Christ as man, or as to his human nature subsisting in the person of the Son of God, but only by faith of the operation of God; which will be a mystery imperceptible by human fancy, whether Mr. Robe will or not. This wisdom of God in a mystery is above reason itself; and much more above all the imaginary ideas of men. (pp. 61-62)
They that look to Christ by faith, cannot but believe his humanity; because they see his person God-man. But they that look to him by fancy, or an imaginary idea, cannot see his person, because they look only to his human body. Faith apprehends the person, and so takes in a whole Christ, his personality. Fancy apprehends nothing but the corporeity in itself; which yet in itself is no more the object of faith, than any other human or natural body: which, to make it a proper object of faith, is horrible idolatry. (p. 63)
Again, this ideal doctrine is atheistical: For thus I may argue, to conceive of God as man is atheism. But to have an imaginary idea of Christ as man, is a conceiving of God as man, and therefore the imaginary idea of Christ as man is atheism. (p. 66)
Therefore the conclusion is plain, That an imaginary idea of Christ as man is in itself Atheism; because it is a conceiving of him, not by faith, but by fancy: . . . (p. 67)
An imaginary idea of Christ as man necessarily divides the person of Christ; because it divides the soul from the body of Christ, and also the human nature from the divine. (p. 67)
. . . when [shapes and images of corporeal things] obtrude themselves, reason itself must instantly avoid, ere it can have a right notion of any truth relating to these corporeal things; and much more will faith shake off any such vermin, when it is found creeping into the heart. (p. 109)
But this fancy of Christ as man, is indeed but a fancy, that pertains neither to the act nor the object of faith, for as faith in God centers in his Deity; so faith in Christ centers in his person. And to form an imaginary idea of the manhood, is no idea at all of the person God-man; which, being a spiritual and supernatural object, cannot possibly be the object of an imaginary idea: For, seeing Christ as man is no person, and in his person no man, to have an imaginary idea of God-man, or of that person as man, is a mere contradiction, both to philosophy and divinity, to reason and religion. (pp. 140–41)
If he cannot say, that Jesus Christ is not a person, then how can he form the image of him, and yet not of a person? If he say, that it is not the image of his divine person, but of his human nature; then how can he draw the image of a human nature, and not of a person? since human nature can never be separated, either by thought or deed, from being a person, either human or divine. The image then of his human nature must either represent a human person, or a divine one. If the image of Jesus Christ he speaks of, represent a human person, then it is not the true image of Christ, who never had, and never was a human person. If the image of Christ he allows of, represents a divine person, then it is the image of God: for Jesus Christ is God, the second person of the glorious Trinity: And, consequently, whether Mr. Robe will or not, it is but an idolatrous picture of him who is God, expressly forbidden in the second commandment. (pp. 166-167)
He needed not have added, now when it is absent; for, though it were present to sense, I say the same, however dreadful Mr. Robe may think it, that nothing sensible, corporeal or visible, can be the proper object of faith; because it is properly the object of sense. (p. 179)
Again, as nothing invisible can be the object of sense, so nothing visible can properly be the object of faith, as it is visible and corporeal. (p. 190)
To conceive of him as man, by forming an image of his manhood in our minds, is, in my opinion, as really sinful and idolatrous, as to form an image of his Godhead in our mind; because the man Christ is really God; but Christ as man is not: Therefore to conceive of him as man by an imaginary idea, is to conceive of him not as God. (p. 227)
The absence or presence of Christ’s human nature makes no alteration in the least upon the proper act or object of faith, unless it be supposed, that the absence thereof contributes rather to the help of faith, because then faith has not the disadvantage of a sensible object intervening between it and the proper, invisible, complete, and spiritual object of it, namely, Christ as God-man, in one invisible personality. (p. 232)
If imaginary ideas, by the means of our senses and imaginations, do naturally attend our meditations of God and of divine things, they never attend as helps to further, but as devils to mar our spiritual meditations. (p. 252)
Therefore bodily eyes and ears, though they be called gifts of God; as the God of nature and providence; yet they are no proper ordinances of God for helping us to the knowledge of him. (p. 264)
Mental images of Christ then are no better than molten images, profitable for nothing, Isa. xliv. 10. (p. 268)
Therefore the imaginary idea of Christ as man, is so far from helping to the knowledge or conceiving of him as God-man in one person, that it cannot be the remote occasion thereof, but a hinderance; unless God take occasion thereby to bring things out of their opposites; as he did light out of darkness, life out of death, heaven out of hell, holiness out of sin, and all out of nothing. (p. 284)
Yet whatever was, or is the object of sense, cannot under that consideration be the object of faith; no more than sounds and voices can be the object of the sense of seeing, or white and black colours the object of the sense of hearing. (p. 297)
Thus, the human nature of Christ, not materially or corporeally considered, but formally and spiritually, as represented in some doctrinal proposition, gospel truth or divine declaration or testimony, is the proper object of faith. (p. 298)
See also: