A community of Iraqi exiles residing in the serene, culturally diverse town of Fairfield near Sydney, Australia, may appear to be distantly connected to the narrative of the Turin Shroud. Yet, this devout Christian congregation, which congregates in a hall named Edessa, has deep roots that intertwine with this narrative. Their church, the Assyrian Church of the East, predates both the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions. Remarkably, these Assyrians continue to converse in a dialect of Syriac, remarkably similar to the language spoken by Jesus and his disciples. According to their enduring tradition, a disciple named Addai brought Christianity to their ancestors in the then-heathen city of Edessa. Correspondingly, Eastern Orthodox tradition maintains that shortly after the crucifixion of Jesus, this disciple transported a mysterious cloth bearing the imprint of Christ from Jerusalem to Edessa. The conversion of King Abgar of Edessa and numerous citizens led to Edessa's distinction as the inaugural Christian city of the world.
This narrative, an amalgamation of Assyrian and Orthodox traditions, sparks considerable debate among scholars. Before delving into these controversies, a common question arises: 'What is the location of Edessa?' The Edessa in question, distinct from its namesake in Macedonian Greece or Odessa in Ukraine, is presently known as Şanliurfa, situated in south-eastern Turkey. In stark contrast to its Christian origins, Şanliurfa, a predominantly Islamic city near the borders with Syria and Iraq, does not outwardly resemble the world’s earliest Christian city. Through modern technology like Google Earth, one can virtually explore Şanliurfa's ancient core, marked by Islamic minarets, but devoid of Christian churches, making it an unlikely destination for American evangelical pilgrims.
However, the history of the Shroud often contradicts surface appearances. If it were possible to navigate through time via Google Earth to the sixth century, we would observe a city adorned with numerous Christian churches belonging to three distinct denominations, each with its theological school. Some of these churches, revered as the oldest in the Christian world, would have been centuries old, attracting pilgrims from distant lands. Among the religious relics, one would find the remains of St. Thomas, a disciple of Jesus, transported from India. Outside the city walls, countless hermit-like monks would be visible. To the Christians of the sixth century, Edessa held a revered status, believed to be divinely blessed by Jesus himself. Our exploration commences with envisioning Edessa during the era of Jesus. Initially termed Orhay in Syriac, its identity was reshaped to Edessa following Alexander the Great's conquests. In the first century, Edessa thrived as a bustling commercial hub, strategically situated at the nexus of two major caravan routes: one traversing eastward to India and China, and the other southward to Jerusalem and Egypt. The cityscape was vibrant with traders in billowing trousers and turbans, bartering silks and spices, speaking a dialect akin to the Syriac used by Jesus and his disciples. Unlike the Jews, these inhabitants, devoted to deities Bel and Nebo, had no reservations about representational art forms. Politically, Edessa functioned as a diminutive buffer state sandwiched between the colossal Roman and Parthian Empires, governed by Arab monarchs of the Aryu or Lion dynasty, successors to Alexander’s conquests. King Abgar V (AD 13–50), ruling during Jesus's time, plays a pivotal role in the narrative of the Image of Edessa and his subsequent conversion. The earliest extant Christian history, penned by Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea in the fourth century, recounts King Abgar V’s encounter with Christianity. Suffering from an incurable ailment, Abgar, upon learning of Jesus’s miracles, dispatched a messenger to Jerusalem with a letter pleading for Jesus’s healing presence in Edessa. Jesus, constrained by his destiny in Jerusalem, commended Abgar’s faith, promising to send a disciple post-ascension to heal him and impart the Christian doctrine.
Eusebius asserts the preservation of the correspondences between Abgar and Jesus, along with another Syriac document from the Abgar era, in the Public Record Office. Although these originals have vanished, 19th-century discoveries of early Syriac manuscripts, notably the Doctrine of Addai, corroborate Eusebius’s narrative, despite some anachronistic additions. The promised disciple, revered as the founder of the Assyrian Church of the East, was Addai (referred to as Thaddaeus in its Hellenistic form by Eusebius). His arrival in Edessa, as depicted in the Doctrine of Addai, was marked by a miraculous vision witnessed by King Abgar, leading to the king's conversion and healing. Addai’s subsequent preaching in Edessa catalyzed a wave of conversions, encompassing the Jewish community and even pagan priests. Eusebius and the Doctrine of Addai concur that these events unfolded in AD 30, contemporaneous with Jesus’s crucifixion and predating St. Paul's missionary endeavors by over a decade.
Eusebius and the Doctrine manuscript remained silent on the nature of the 'marvelous vision' uniquely witnessed by Abgar. However, subsequent Eastern Orthodox tradition confidently equated this vision with the Image of Edessa, a cloth bearing the likeness of Christ. Mark Guscin's study of Mount Athos monastic manuscripts, including early versions of the Eastern Orthodox Church's tenth-century narrative, The Story of the Image of Edessa, confirms this association. This narrative details that Addai, donning the Image on his forehead, approached Abgar, who perceived an overwhelming light radiating from Addai's visage, emanating from the enshrouded Image. An eleventh-century manuscript, originating from Stavronikita monastery on Mount Athos and now housed in Moscow depicts this scene, albeit without the Image directly on Addai's forehead. Addressing the contentious aspects of this narrative, it is imperative to acknowledge the historical skepticism surrounding the Abgar legend, independent of its tenth-century Edessa Image component. As early as the fifth century, Pope Gelasius (papacy 492-496) declared the purported correspondence between Abgar and Jesus apocryphal, a view that modern scholarship generally upholds. For instance, Jesus's letter, as cited by Eusebius, refers to St. John's gospel, suggesting an anachronistic existence of the gospel during Jesus's lifetime. The letters appear to be early fabrications.
Historically, an Abgar V of Edessa did exist contemporaneously with Jesus, but historians doubt that a king would have converted to Christianity so prematurely without corroborative historical evidence. Aside from church texts like the Doctrine of Addai, no such evidence exists. The destruction of Edessa's records and churches in 1144 following the Turkish conquest, along with the absence of religious imagery on Abgar's coinage, further complicates the narrative. Tacitus's Annals, which provide a rare historical reference, depict Abgar V unfavorably as a duplicitous ruler with a Parthian bias. The dynasty of rulers named Abgar includes Abgar VIII (reigning 179-212), who is occasionally considered the more likely convert to Christianity and a potential recipient of the Image of Edessa/Shroud. The Chronicle of Edessa, in its 201 entry, documents a devastating flood in Edessa, damaging a Christian church nave, implying an early presence of Christianity in the city. However, historians often overlook this evidence. A crucial point is Abgar VIII's coinage. Despite Oxford scholar Professor Sebastian Brock initially dismissing the idea of Abgar VIII's Christian conversion due to the lack of Christian symbols on Edessan coins, the presence of a Christian cross on Abgar VIII's head-dress in several coins housed in the British Museum (pl. 15a) led to a reevaluation of this stance. This subtle display of Christian faith, coinciding with the reign of Emperor Commodus, whose wife/mistress Marcia had Christian sympathies, suggests Abgar VIII's Christian leanings as early as AD 192, the year of Commodus's death. An additional piece of historical significance is an ancient, sculpted stone lion, displayed in the outdoor area of the Şanliurfa museum, bereft of any interpretative context. This lion, once a city fountain as indicated by the borehole in its maw, bears a notable Christian cross atop its head, a sight rarely observed in contemporary Şanliurfa. The Syriac term for 'lion' is 'aryu,' which coincidentally is the name of Edessa's royal dynasty. It's plausible that this fountain was erected during the Christian reign of the Aryu dynasty, a lineage that ceased with the Roman annexation in AD 215. This suggests that Christianity had established roots in Edessa during the Abgar dynasty's rule, with one of the kings embracing the faith, likely preceding AD 192, as inferred from the coinage of Abgar VIII.
The question then arises: was it Abgar VIII or his predecessor, Abgar V, who first converted to Christianity and was involved in the story of the Image of Edessa? The circumstances of Abgar VIII's reign don't align with the Doctrine of Addai's narrative, which describes Addai's evangelistic successes in Edessa and its environs, leading to his peaceful death and honored burial in the royal mausoleum. This account is more consistent with the reign of Abgar V, who died in AD 50 and was succeeded by his sons, Ma’nu V and VI. The latter's reign could plausibly account for a reactionary pagan resurgence, fitting the Doctrine of Addai's description, and explaining the brief appearance and subsequent disappearance of the Shroud in Edessa before the composition of the gospels. In contrast, the era of Abgar VIII saw a different trajectory. Following his death, his sole successor, Abgar IX, was swiftly deposed by the Romans, transforming Edessa into a Roman colony, leaving no opportunity for a successor to initiate persecutions against Christians. Furthermore, the Doctrine of Addai does not mention Roman interference in this context, despite Edessa's later history of Roman-era Christian martyrdoms. The historical validity of Addai, the disciple credited with bringing Christianity to Edessa, is often underestimated. As early as AD 190, Clement of Alexandria in his book 'Outlines' referenced Addai’s tomb in Edessa among the burial sites of Jesus's disciples. Considering Clement's lifespan (c. 150-215), it's unlikely he would include a contemporary figure in such a listing. The tomb's location, about six miles from modern-day Şanliurfa, still exists, albeit reduced to mere rubble. Historically, the remains of Addai and Abgar were transferred in 494 to a church in Edessa for safety against Persian raids. In conclusion, while the New Testament of Western Christianity may not mention the custodian of Jesus's Shroud post-crucifixion, Eastern Christianity associates the disciple Addai not only with the transport of a Christ-imprinted cloth to Edessa before AD 192, but also acknowledges him as a tangible, historical figure with a known and recorded burial site.
The proposition that Addai's missionary expedition, bearing the Image and occurring in the first century, albeit unmentioned in the canonical gospels of Western Christianity, gains credibility when juxtaposed with the map of St. Paul’s missionary travels. Paul embarked from Antioch, present-day Antakya in southeastern Turkey, extending his missions up to 500 miles west to Ephesus, further to Malta, and ultimately to Rome. In stark contrast, Edessa, a Syriac-speaking city, is merely 180 miles east of Antioch, positioned along a direct trade route from both Antioch and Jerusalem. It seems improbable that the early Christians would have overlooked Edessa, a geographically favorable and strategic location, during their initial 150 years of missionary work.
This hypothesis is supported by the chronicles from the neighboring kingdom of Adiabene, with its capital in Arbela (now the Iraqi city of Arbil). Arbela’s ecclesiastical history began with Bishop Pkhida, reliably dated to the year 104. Intriguingly, it was Addai who is said to have converted Pkhida, suggesting Addai's ministry in the first century, during the reign of Abgar V rather than in the second century under Abgar VIII. Estonian-American scholar Arthur Voobus argued that if Christianity had reached Adiabene by 100 AD, it is almost certain that Edessa would have embraced the Christian faith before the century’s end. The early arrival of the Image in Edessa is significant because it seemingly disappeared soon after, possibly due to severe persecution of the nascent Christian community, similar to the fate of Addai’s successor, Aggai. This vanishing act is corroborated by two notable observations. Firstly, when the Image was rediscovered in the sixth century, it was evident that it had been intentionally concealed for an extensive period. Secondly, during the reestablishment of Christianity in Edessa, particularly from the time of Abgar VIII onwards, there was no trace of the Image. Instead, Edessa seemed to retain a profound sense of having been divinely favored by Jesus, largely due to the supposed letter to King Abgar, despite its questionable authenticity.
Although this letter was deemed unconvincing by Pope Gelasius and modern scholars, it achieved widespread fame, with numerous copies found across regions like Egypt, Northern Anatolia, Macedonian Greece, and near Edessa itself. This letter even featured in an English Saxon-era service book, positioned right after the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles’ Creed. The variations in the text across different examples and manuscripts suggest the absence of a singular, authoritative version, with later versions, particularly from the fourth century onwards, mysteriously including statements about the city’s blessings and protection from enemies. If the Christ-imprinted cloth, the Image of Edessa, had been present in the late fourth century, a notable historical figure, commonly referred to as Egeria (due to the absence of definitive identification), would have likely documented it. Egeria, a pilgrim from Western Gaul or Spain, visited Edessa between 384 and 394. Given her detailed accounts of her travels, had the Image been in Edessa during her visit, it is highly plausible that she would have sought it out and provided a thorough description. Egeria's narrative, infused with a conversational charm, recounts her visit to the recently constructed church in Edessa, housing St. Thomas's relics, reputedly transported from India. Welcomed by the local bishop, she proceeded to explore the enduring palace of the Abgar dynasty, admiring stone carvings of Abgar and his son, referred to as 'Magnus' (a reference to Ma’nu). Her journey then took her to the renowned fish pools of Edessa, a tourist attraction from her era that persists today in Şanliurfa. Her final destination was the city gate, where the bishop recited to her the text of Jesus’s letter to Abgar, reportedly engraved on the gate itself, and related a lengthy tale of its miraculous role in shielding Edessa from a Persian military siege. However, conspicuously absent from Egeria's account was any mention of the Image's presence in the city. This silence was echoed by other prolific writers of the era, including St. Ephrem of Edessa, as if the Image had never existed.
Notably, during this pre-sixth century era, closer in time to Jesus than our own, there was a pervasive ignorance regarding Jesus's physical appearance. The gospel authors, notably, omitted any description of his visage. Given the Jewish aversion to imagery, it is highly improbable that a portrait of Jesus was crafted during his lifetime. With the ascension of Christianity as a sanctioned religion of the once pagan Roman Empire under Emperor Constantine the Great, a curiosity emerged about Jesus's appearance. Despite some traditionalist churchmen's disapproval, including the previously mentioned Bishop Eusebius, representational images of Jesus began to gradually appear. One of the earliest instances is a partially preserved fresco from the mid-third century, discovered at Dura Europos, depicting Jesus healing the paralyzed man. Interestingly, this fresco portrays Jesus as youthful, beardless, and with short hair. Another significant example from the fourth century, a mosaic from a Roman villa in Dorset, England, portrays a similarly youthful and beardless figure, identifiable as Jesus only by the monogram near his head. This pattern persisted into the fifth century. Despite a few instances of bearded portrayals, the dominant representation of Jesus was of a youthful, beardless figure, reminiscent of Apollo, as seen in various depictions of his miracles on sarcophagi in the Vatican museums and the Museum of Archaeology in Istanbul. The general uncertainty regarding Jesus's appearance is further underscored by St. Augustine, who, in the same century, referred to the existing portraits of Jesus as 'innumerable in concept and design,' explicitly stating, 'We do not know of his external appearance, nor that of his mother.' It becomes evident that during the nearly half-millennium period when the Christ-imprinted cloth of Edessa was conspicuously absent from historical records, its location shrouded in mystery, there simultaneously existed a notable absence of any authoritative, either textual or visual, depiction of the human visage of Jesus. However, this situation was on the cusp of a dramatic transformation, heralded by an extraordinary rediscovery.
Before its fabled transfer to Constantinople in the year 944, the Image of Edessa had its origins in the ancient city of the same name, known in modern times as Şanlıurfa, situated in Eastern Turkey. Edessa, a significant urban center in Upper Mesopotamia, lay near the contemporary border with Syria. Founded by Seleucus I Nicator in 304 B.C. atop an earlier settlement, Edessa succeeded the waning Seleucid kingdom, coming under the rule of a series of monarchs often named Agbar. Straddling the edges of Roman and Parthian, later Persian, territories, Edessa was caught in the constant tug-of-war for dominion between these two ancient superpowers. The city's historical prominence was marked by events such as the defeat of Marcus Licinius Crassus by the Parthians at Carrhae in 53 B.C. and the infamous capture of the Roman emperor Valerian by Shapur I during the Battle of Edessa in A.D. 260.
The city's most notable geographical blessing was its abundant water supply, a feature still present today in the form of thriving fish pools noted by the itinerant pilgrim nun Egeria in the fourth century. Edessa also served as a critical juncture on the Silk Road and as a passage from Armenia to Southern Mesopotamia. By the late second century, Edessa had cemented its status as a client kingdom of Rome, epitomized by coins minted between A.D. 161 and 169 which bear the title φιλορώμαιος (philoromaios) for King Maʿnu, indicating his alliance with Rome. The subsequent reign of King Abgar VIII, son of Maʿnu, from 177 to 212, is remembered for its numismatic legacy depicting the monarch alongside Roman emperors Commodus and then Septimius Severus. Despite a brief insurrection against Severus, Abgar VIII capitulated and retained his throne until the city's transformation into a Roman colony by Emperor Caracalla in 212/213. The Abgarid dynasty saw a fleeting revival under Emperor Gordian III around 240, but this was short-lived as Edessa reverted to Roman, and later, Byzantine control following the empire's bifurcation in the fifth century.
The advent of Islam brought a pivotal change to Edessa, which capitulated to Muslim forces in 639. This transition, while altering the city's political landscape by erasing the longstanding frontier between Byzantine and Persian empires, also ushered in a period of relative peace for Edessa, no longer a battleground for Eastern and Western powers. Under Muslim rule, Christians retained the freedom to practice their faith, albeit under the conditions of paying the gizya tax, supporting the Islamic state, refraining from proselytizing Muslims, and observing restrictions on public displays of their religious symbols. These provisions became the standard for other Mesopotamian cities that fell under Muslim dominion. Life in Edessa, as in the wider region, continued under a semblance of tranquility, punctuated occasionally by disputes over taxes and instances of persecution that left the Christian community with little recourse, remote as they were from the centers of power. Over time, the Christian presence in Edessa diminished and ultimately vanished, leaving behind scant remnants of its pre-Islamic era, save for the citadel and a few other relics.
Edessa, the city that lent its name to the renowned icon of Christ, continued to be associated with the Image long after the city itself had faded from prominence. The Image of Christ was retained in Edessa for over three centuries post its capitulation to Muslim rule, indicating a period where Christian artifacts were preserved despite the community's subdued existence. This suggests a nuanced interaction with Muslim authorities, who did not engage in the indiscriminate destruction of Christian relics. In ecclesiastical history, Edessa is acclaimed for being the inaugural state to declare Christianity as its state religion. Scholars like Tixeront posit that the Abgar legend is intertwined with the dawn of Christianity in Edessa, possibly aligned with the first sermons of the faith in the city. The legend, with its historical implications, supports this assertion, but it doesn't necessarily extend to the precise origins of the Image or the reputed correspondence between Christ and Abgar, assuming the latter is not contemporaneous with Jesus. Christianity likely found its footing in Edessa before the Image's arrival, as it's improbable the Image was present before the religion's establishment; without the context of Christianity, the Image's presence would lack purpose. Regrettably, absent any early records of the Image in Edessa, its antecedent history remains elusive.
Regarding Edessa's official embrace of Christianity, it is generally believed to have occurred under the reign of a different Abgar—Abgar VIII the Great (177-212). By his time, a Christian church was active in Edessa, and the renowned scholar Bardaisan, a contemporary of Abgar VIII, likely adopted Christian tenets within his philosophical musings. The presence of Christian heretical sects like the Valentinians and Marcionites towards the second century's close also denotes an earlier foundation of the religion in the city. Tixeront conjectures that Christianity's first evangelization in Edessa happened around 160 to 170 A.D.
During the reign of Abgar VIII, there is numismatic evidence of Christian symbolism, with coins from this period bearing the cross. A bronze coin from 179-192 A.D. in the Ashmolean Museum notably features Abgar donning a tiara adorned with a cross. Similarly, a statue situated in the garden of the Historical Museum in Şanlıurfa, thought to be from Edessa, conspicuously displays a Christian cross. These artifacts testify to the early and visible presence of Christianity in the region. Christianity, having taken root in Edessa by at least the second century, was further affirmed by the association of the Image of Christ with the city, underscoring the religion's esteemed position there. Edessa was also a center for theological discourse, particularly on the nature of Christ within the Miaphysite tradition, which flourished alongside other regions like Egypt, Syria, Armenia, and Ethiopia. Miaphysites, often conflated with Monophysites by their detractors, maintained that Christ's nature was united as both human and divine, as opposed to the Monophysite view of a singular, predominantly divine nature. The theological debate was complex, as demonstrated by the contrasting interpretations of Cyril of Alexandria's writings. At the Council of Chalcedon in 451, the orthodox stance articulated Christ's dual natures—human and divine—which seemed to diverge from Cyril's earlier assertion of one incarnate nature of God. However, this apparent contradiction could be contextualized as a response to specific heretical claims at the time, rather than a comprehensive doctrinal statement.
The Image of Edessa entered this debate as a tangible affirmation of Christ's humanity. The human visage of Christ believed to be miraculously self-imprinted on the cloth, was a powerful testament to his incarnation. It was argued that this image, representing Christ's entire person, encapsulated both his human and divine natures. This interpretation, however, may be anachronistic, projecting later theological understandings onto an object revered for its more straightforward, immediate proof of Christ's humanity. The veneration of the Image in Edessa, particularly within Miaphysite Christianity, implies a recognition and acceptance of Christ's human nature. Without this acceptance, the Image would not have achieved such prominence in Edessa's religious life.
The Image of Edessa emerges as a significant relic amidst theological discussions, yet its precise origins remain shrouded in mystery. Various scholars have put forth myriad hypotheses concerning where, when, and how the Image came into existence, but none have succeeded in presenting a universally compelling account. Consequently, a reassessment of both historical and contemporary sources is crucial to shed light on this enigma. The "Narratio de imagine Edessena," a text detailing the history of the Image, situates its creation during the lifetime of Jesus, specifically before his crucifixion, aligning with the consensus of numerous other accounts. The "Narratio" presents two narratives about the Image's inception: the traditional tale involving King Abgar of Edessa, who dispatched a messenger to capture Christ's likeness but instead received a cloth with Jesus' visage miraculously imprinted on it, and an alternative account placing the event in the Garden of Gethsemane, where, according to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus' face was imprinted on a cloth given to him as he sweated blood. Indeed, there was a monarch named Abgar who ruled Edessa during the time of Christ, often identified as Abgar V, with a reign from approximately 13 to 50 A.D. This king, part of a lineage that shared the same royal name, is also referenced by the historian Tacitus, though his depiction therein is less than favorable.
The narrative of the Image of Edessa gains prominence amidst the backdrop of the city's history. Tacitus recounts an episode involving Abgar, the king of the Arabs, who, through deceit, delayed a young prince in Edessa, thereby altering the course of political events. However, the existence of King Abgar, contemporary with Jesus, does not substantiate the early origins of the reputed cloth bearing Christ's image. Mirković offers a succinct perspective, suggesting the portrait of Jesus associated with the Abgar legend only gained significance after the mid-sixth century, casting doubt on the idea that Eusebius deliberately omitted any reference to such a portrait in his accounts. The earliest mentions of the correspondence between Jesus and Abgar, which later eclipsed the importance of the letters themselves, are devoid of any reference to the Image, thus providing little support for a first-century provenance. The oldest known written version of the Abgar legend comes from Eusebius' "Ecclesiastical History," dating events to the year 340 of the Seleucid era or around AD 30, close to the time of the crucifixion. Eusebius makes no mention of a physical image of Jesus in his rendition of the story, despite claiming his narrative is drawn from documents in Edessa translated from Syriac—claims which cannot be verified.
Following Eusebius, the next significant text comes from Egeria, a nun from the northwest of Spain who chronicled her pilgrimage to holy sites in the late fourth century. Egeria recounts the Abgar story as told by the bishop of Edessa, including the letters exchanged with Jesus, which she received copies of. These copies from Edessa purportedly contained more content than those she had at home, possibly including the promise that Edessa would be protected from enemies—a promise which seemed to be recognized in Edessa, as the bishop's retelling of Abgar's prayer during a Persian attack suggests. In sum, while the Image of Edessa is entwined with the city's Christian heritage and associated with miraculous legends, the earliest records do not corroborate the existence of a physical image from the time of Christ. Without further archaeological or textual discoveries, the true origins of the Image remain an intriguing but unresolved chapter in the history of early Christianity.
The discussion here revolves around the historical account of Egeria, a traveler and writer from the 4th century, and her record of the legend involving King Abgar and Jesus Christ. Egeria's account is noted for certain omissions, such as no mention of Abgar’s illness, the character Ananias in Jerusalem, or an image or portrait of Christ. This has led to debates among historians and scholars about the implications of her silence on these matters. Andrew Palmer, a scholar in this field, argues that Egeria's silence on the image or portrait of Christ should not be seen as definitive proof of its non-existence. He points out that travel literature can have curious omissions, citing Herodotus's failure to mention the Sphinx despite describing the surrounding pyramids. Palmer suggests that the image of Christ might be older than some historians, like Runciman and Averil Cameron, believe. The Chronicle of Pseudo-Joshua the Stylite, a text from the early 6th century, makes no mention of the Abgar-Jesus correspondence or the Image, but it does reference a promise from Christ to protect the city of Edessa. This absence in the writings of Eusebius and Egeria presents a challenge for those arguing for the image's existence before their time.
The image of Christ first appears in a Syriac work known as the Doctrine of Addai, dating around AD 400. This text, also called Labubna, is believed to defend orthodox beliefs in Edessa and is linked to Jesus's first apostle sent to the city. In the Doctrine of Addai, Abgar’s messenger Hanan, identified as Ananias in Eusebius's account, is portrayed as an artist who paints a portrait of Christ, differing from the later belief that the image was not made by human hands. The "Chronicle of 1234" also mentions this tradition, stating that the image was initially intended to be on wood but was ultimately transferred onto cloth. In summary, the debate centers around the historical veracity and interpretation of various accounts regarding an image or portrait of Christ linked to King Abgar. The differences in these accounts and the absence of certain details in some texts like those of Egeria and Eusebius contribute to ongoing scholarly discussions about the origins and nature of this image in early Christian traditions.
The concept of Edessa as an impregnable city emerges from the narrative of Jesus' purported reply to King Abgar, as detailed in the Doctrine—an early text where the letter begins to be seen as a talisman or charm. This notion of divine protection was also echoed in a correspondence from Darius to Augustine in 429, where it was conveyed that God not only healed the king but also promised enduring safety for his city, a pledge of perpetual immunity from foes. A notable divergence between Eusebius' rendition and the Doctrine of Addai is the nature of Jesus' response to Abgar. In the Doctrine, the reply is oral and includes a vow that Edessa would never succumb to adversaries, while Eusebius records a written response from Christ. This variation underscores the evolution of the legend, illustrating how elements such as the painted portrayal of Christ and the written reply underwent transformation in subsequent retellings, eventually solidifying around the motif of a miraculously created image and a written letter of great import. The Doctrine's significance is further highlighted by its early reference (around 400 A.D.) to a depiction of Christ, serving as evidence of the legend's dynamic progression. The Image of Edessa is also cryptically alluded to in a Syriac hymn from the first half of the sixth century, commemorating the dedication of Edessa's new cathedral after the original was ravaged by floods in 525. The verses describe an "image not made by hands," but scholars such as Drijvers and Whitby interpret these lines as metaphorical, referring to the natural designs in the marble of the church walls rather than a literal, miraculous icon. This interpretation suggests that the hymn does not, in fact, reference the Holy Face, the acheiropoietos icon, but instead celebrates the inherent beauty and perceived sanctity of the church's construction materials. In the scholarly analysis of a particular strophe translated by Andrew Palmer, there's a focus on the interpretation of a Syriac verse related to an image not made by hands. Palmer's translation reads as follows: the marble is imprinted with an image not made with hands, suggesting a divine or supernatural aspect to it. The walls of the structure, possibly a reference to a church or a significant building, are described as being clad in this marble, which shines with a brightness resembling sunlight or a reservoir of sunlight. The crux of the debate lies in the original Syriac text's lack of a definite article before the phrase “image not made by hands.” This omission leaves open the interpretation of whether the marble is compared to "an image not made by hands" or "the image not made by hands.” The latter would directly reference the famous Image of Edessa, believed to be a miraculous imprint of Christ's face. In contrast, the former could imply a more general comparison to any divine or miraculous image.
When comparing this to the dedication hymn of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, no mention of such an image is found, suggesting that the Syriac verse could be unique in this aspect. The interpretation challenge arises in understanding whether the comparison is purely physical or more abstract, relating to the miraculous or divine origin of the objects. The argument extends to the cultural and religious context of sixth-century Edessa, where any mention of an image not made by human hands, especially in such a significant city in early Christian history, would likely invoke thoughts of the Image of Edessa, or the face of Christ. This understanding would be almost instinctive among the contemporaries, making any such reference in Edessa heavily loaded with this implication. The interpretation of this Syriac verse hinges on the nuances of the language and the cultural-religious context of the period. The debate centers on whether the verse subtly references the famous Image of Edessa, a miraculous imprint of Christ's face, or if it draws a more general comparison to divine or supernatural imagery.
This narrative, an amalgamation of Assyrian and Orthodox traditions, sparks considerable debate among scholars. Before delving into these controversies, a common question arises: 'What is the location of Edessa?' The Edessa in question, distinct from its namesake in Macedonian Greece or Odessa in Ukraine, is presently known as Şanliurfa, situated in south-eastern Turkey. In stark contrast to its Christian origins, Şanliurfa, a predominantly Islamic city near the borders with Syria and Iraq, does not outwardly resemble the world’s earliest Christian city. Through modern technology like Google Earth, one can virtually explore Şanliurfa's ancient core, marked by Islamic minarets, but devoid of Christian churches, making it an unlikely destination for American evangelical pilgrims.
However, the history of the Shroud often contradicts surface appearances. If it were possible to navigate through time via Google Earth to the sixth century, we would observe a city adorned with numerous Christian churches belonging to three distinct denominations, each with its theological school. Some of these churches, revered as the oldest in the Christian world, would have been centuries old, attracting pilgrims from distant lands. Among the religious relics, one would find the remains of St. Thomas, a disciple of Jesus, transported from India. Outside the city walls, countless hermit-like monks would be visible. To the Christians of the sixth century, Edessa held a revered status, believed to be divinely blessed by Jesus himself. Our exploration commences with envisioning Edessa during the era of Jesus. Initially termed Orhay in Syriac, its identity was reshaped to Edessa following Alexander the Great's conquests. In the first century, Edessa thrived as a bustling commercial hub, strategically situated at the nexus of two major caravan routes: one traversing eastward to India and China, and the other southward to Jerusalem and Egypt. The cityscape was vibrant with traders in billowing trousers and turbans, bartering silks and spices, speaking a dialect akin to the Syriac used by Jesus and his disciples. Unlike the Jews, these inhabitants, devoted to deities Bel and Nebo, had no reservations about representational art forms. Politically, Edessa functioned as a diminutive buffer state sandwiched between the colossal Roman and Parthian Empires, governed by Arab monarchs of the Aryu or Lion dynasty, successors to Alexander’s conquests. King Abgar V (AD 13–50), ruling during Jesus's time, plays a pivotal role in the narrative of the Image of Edessa and his subsequent conversion. The earliest extant Christian history, penned by Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea in the fourth century, recounts King Abgar V’s encounter with Christianity. Suffering from an incurable ailment, Abgar, upon learning of Jesus’s miracles, dispatched a messenger to Jerusalem with a letter pleading for Jesus’s healing presence in Edessa. Jesus, constrained by his destiny in Jerusalem, commended Abgar’s faith, promising to send a disciple post-ascension to heal him and impart the Christian doctrine.
Eusebius asserts the preservation of the correspondences between Abgar and Jesus, along with another Syriac document from the Abgar era, in the Public Record Office. Although these originals have vanished, 19th-century discoveries of early Syriac manuscripts, notably the Doctrine of Addai, corroborate Eusebius’s narrative, despite some anachronistic additions. The promised disciple, revered as the founder of the Assyrian Church of the East, was Addai (referred to as Thaddaeus in its Hellenistic form by Eusebius). His arrival in Edessa, as depicted in the Doctrine of Addai, was marked by a miraculous vision witnessed by King Abgar, leading to the king's conversion and healing. Addai’s subsequent preaching in Edessa catalyzed a wave of conversions, encompassing the Jewish community and even pagan priests. Eusebius and the Doctrine of Addai concur that these events unfolded in AD 30, contemporaneous with Jesus’s crucifixion and predating St. Paul's missionary endeavors by over a decade.
Eusebius and the Doctrine manuscript remained silent on the nature of the 'marvelous vision' uniquely witnessed by Abgar. However, subsequent Eastern Orthodox tradition confidently equated this vision with the Image of Edessa, a cloth bearing the likeness of Christ. Mark Guscin's study of Mount Athos monastic manuscripts, including early versions of the Eastern Orthodox Church's tenth-century narrative, The Story of the Image of Edessa, confirms this association. This narrative details that Addai, donning the Image on his forehead, approached Abgar, who perceived an overwhelming light radiating from Addai's visage, emanating from the enshrouded Image. An eleventh-century manuscript, originating from Stavronikita monastery on Mount Athos and now housed in Moscow depicts this scene, albeit without the Image directly on Addai's forehead. Addressing the contentious aspects of this narrative, it is imperative to acknowledge the historical skepticism surrounding the Abgar legend, independent of its tenth-century Edessa Image component. As early as the fifth century, Pope Gelasius (papacy 492-496) declared the purported correspondence between Abgar and Jesus apocryphal, a view that modern scholarship generally upholds. For instance, Jesus's letter, as cited by Eusebius, refers to St. John's gospel, suggesting an anachronistic existence of the gospel during Jesus's lifetime. The letters appear to be early fabrications.
Historically, an Abgar V of Edessa did exist contemporaneously with Jesus, but historians doubt that a king would have converted to Christianity so prematurely without corroborative historical evidence. Aside from church texts like the Doctrine of Addai, no such evidence exists. The destruction of Edessa's records and churches in 1144 following the Turkish conquest, along with the absence of religious imagery on Abgar's coinage, further complicates the narrative. Tacitus's Annals, which provide a rare historical reference, depict Abgar V unfavorably as a duplicitous ruler with a Parthian bias. The dynasty of rulers named Abgar includes Abgar VIII (reigning 179-212), who is occasionally considered the more likely convert to Christianity and a potential recipient of the Image of Edessa/Shroud. The Chronicle of Edessa, in its 201 entry, documents a devastating flood in Edessa, damaging a Christian church nave, implying an early presence of Christianity in the city. However, historians often overlook this evidence. A crucial point is Abgar VIII's coinage. Despite Oxford scholar Professor Sebastian Brock initially dismissing the idea of Abgar VIII's Christian conversion due to the lack of Christian symbols on Edessan coins, the presence of a Christian cross on Abgar VIII's head-dress in several coins housed in the British Museum (pl. 15a) led to a reevaluation of this stance. This subtle display of Christian faith, coinciding with the reign of Emperor Commodus, whose wife/mistress Marcia had Christian sympathies, suggests Abgar VIII's Christian leanings as early as AD 192, the year of Commodus's death. An additional piece of historical significance is an ancient, sculpted stone lion, displayed in the outdoor area of the Şanliurfa museum, bereft of any interpretative context. This lion, once a city fountain as indicated by the borehole in its maw, bears a notable Christian cross atop its head, a sight rarely observed in contemporary Şanliurfa. The Syriac term for 'lion' is 'aryu,' which coincidentally is the name of Edessa's royal dynasty. It's plausible that this fountain was erected during the Christian reign of the Aryu dynasty, a lineage that ceased with the Roman annexation in AD 215. This suggests that Christianity had established roots in Edessa during the Abgar dynasty's rule, with one of the kings embracing the faith, likely preceding AD 192, as inferred from the coinage of Abgar VIII.
The question then arises: was it Abgar VIII or his predecessor, Abgar V, who first converted to Christianity and was involved in the story of the Image of Edessa? The circumstances of Abgar VIII's reign don't align with the Doctrine of Addai's narrative, which describes Addai's evangelistic successes in Edessa and its environs, leading to his peaceful death and honored burial in the royal mausoleum. This account is more consistent with the reign of Abgar V, who died in AD 50 and was succeeded by his sons, Ma’nu V and VI. The latter's reign could plausibly account for a reactionary pagan resurgence, fitting the Doctrine of Addai's description, and explaining the brief appearance and subsequent disappearance of the Shroud in Edessa before the composition of the gospels. In contrast, the era of Abgar VIII saw a different trajectory. Following his death, his sole successor, Abgar IX, was swiftly deposed by the Romans, transforming Edessa into a Roman colony, leaving no opportunity for a successor to initiate persecutions against Christians. Furthermore, the Doctrine of Addai does not mention Roman interference in this context, despite Edessa's later history of Roman-era Christian martyrdoms. The historical validity of Addai, the disciple credited with bringing Christianity to Edessa, is often underestimated. As early as AD 190, Clement of Alexandria in his book 'Outlines' referenced Addai’s tomb in Edessa among the burial sites of Jesus's disciples. Considering Clement's lifespan (c. 150-215), it's unlikely he would include a contemporary figure in such a listing. The tomb's location, about six miles from modern-day Şanliurfa, still exists, albeit reduced to mere rubble. Historically, the remains of Addai and Abgar were transferred in 494 to a church in Edessa for safety against Persian raids. In conclusion, while the New Testament of Western Christianity may not mention the custodian of Jesus's Shroud post-crucifixion, Eastern Christianity associates the disciple Addai not only with the transport of a Christ-imprinted cloth to Edessa before AD 192, but also acknowledges him as a tangible, historical figure with a known and recorded burial site.
The proposition that Addai's missionary expedition, bearing the Image and occurring in the first century, albeit unmentioned in the canonical gospels of Western Christianity, gains credibility when juxtaposed with the map of St. Paul’s missionary travels. Paul embarked from Antioch, present-day Antakya in southeastern Turkey, extending his missions up to 500 miles west to Ephesus, further to Malta, and ultimately to Rome. In stark contrast, Edessa, a Syriac-speaking city, is merely 180 miles east of Antioch, positioned along a direct trade route from both Antioch and Jerusalem. It seems improbable that the early Christians would have overlooked Edessa, a geographically favorable and strategic location, during their initial 150 years of missionary work.
This hypothesis is supported by the chronicles from the neighboring kingdom of Adiabene, with its capital in Arbela (now the Iraqi city of Arbil). Arbela’s ecclesiastical history began with Bishop Pkhida, reliably dated to the year 104. Intriguingly, it was Addai who is said to have converted Pkhida, suggesting Addai's ministry in the first century, during the reign of Abgar V rather than in the second century under Abgar VIII. Estonian-American scholar Arthur Voobus argued that if Christianity had reached Adiabene by 100 AD, it is almost certain that Edessa would have embraced the Christian faith before the century’s end. The early arrival of the Image in Edessa is significant because it seemingly disappeared soon after, possibly due to severe persecution of the nascent Christian community, similar to the fate of Addai’s successor, Aggai. This vanishing act is corroborated by two notable observations. Firstly, when the Image was rediscovered in the sixth century, it was evident that it had been intentionally concealed for an extensive period. Secondly, during the reestablishment of Christianity in Edessa, particularly from the time of Abgar VIII onwards, there was no trace of the Image. Instead, Edessa seemed to retain a profound sense of having been divinely favored by Jesus, largely due to the supposed letter to King Abgar, despite its questionable authenticity.
Although this letter was deemed unconvincing by Pope Gelasius and modern scholars, it achieved widespread fame, with numerous copies found across regions like Egypt, Northern Anatolia, Macedonian Greece, and near Edessa itself. This letter even featured in an English Saxon-era service book, positioned right after the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles’ Creed. The variations in the text across different examples and manuscripts suggest the absence of a singular, authoritative version, with later versions, particularly from the fourth century onwards, mysteriously including statements about the city’s blessings and protection from enemies. If the Christ-imprinted cloth, the Image of Edessa, had been present in the late fourth century, a notable historical figure, commonly referred to as Egeria (due to the absence of definitive identification), would have likely documented it. Egeria, a pilgrim from Western Gaul or Spain, visited Edessa between 384 and 394. Given her detailed accounts of her travels, had the Image been in Edessa during her visit, it is highly plausible that she would have sought it out and provided a thorough description. Egeria's narrative, infused with a conversational charm, recounts her visit to the recently constructed church in Edessa, housing St. Thomas's relics, reputedly transported from India. Welcomed by the local bishop, she proceeded to explore the enduring palace of the Abgar dynasty, admiring stone carvings of Abgar and his son, referred to as 'Magnus' (a reference to Ma’nu). Her journey then took her to the renowned fish pools of Edessa, a tourist attraction from her era that persists today in Şanliurfa. Her final destination was the city gate, where the bishop recited to her the text of Jesus’s letter to Abgar, reportedly engraved on the gate itself, and related a lengthy tale of its miraculous role in shielding Edessa from a Persian military siege. However, conspicuously absent from Egeria's account was any mention of the Image's presence in the city. This silence was echoed by other prolific writers of the era, including St. Ephrem of Edessa, as if the Image had never existed.
Notably, during this pre-sixth century era, closer in time to Jesus than our own, there was a pervasive ignorance regarding Jesus's physical appearance. The gospel authors, notably, omitted any description of his visage. Given the Jewish aversion to imagery, it is highly improbable that a portrait of Jesus was crafted during his lifetime. With the ascension of Christianity as a sanctioned religion of the once pagan Roman Empire under Emperor Constantine the Great, a curiosity emerged about Jesus's appearance. Despite some traditionalist churchmen's disapproval, including the previously mentioned Bishop Eusebius, representational images of Jesus began to gradually appear. One of the earliest instances is a partially preserved fresco from the mid-third century, discovered at Dura Europos, depicting Jesus healing the paralyzed man. Interestingly, this fresco portrays Jesus as youthful, beardless, and with short hair. Another significant example from the fourth century, a mosaic from a Roman villa in Dorset, England, portrays a similarly youthful and beardless figure, identifiable as Jesus only by the monogram near his head. This pattern persisted into the fifth century. Despite a few instances of bearded portrayals, the dominant representation of Jesus was of a youthful, beardless figure, reminiscent of Apollo, as seen in various depictions of his miracles on sarcophagi in the Vatican museums and the Museum of Archaeology in Istanbul. The general uncertainty regarding Jesus's appearance is further underscored by St. Augustine, who, in the same century, referred to the existing portraits of Jesus as 'innumerable in concept and design,' explicitly stating, 'We do not know of his external appearance, nor that of his mother.' It becomes evident that during the nearly half-millennium period when the Christ-imprinted cloth of Edessa was conspicuously absent from historical records, its location shrouded in mystery, there simultaneously existed a notable absence of any authoritative, either textual or visual, depiction of the human visage of Jesus. However, this situation was on the cusp of a dramatic transformation, heralded by an extraordinary rediscovery.
Before its fabled transfer to Constantinople in the year 944, the Image of Edessa had its origins in the ancient city of the same name, known in modern times as Şanlıurfa, situated in Eastern Turkey. Edessa, a significant urban center in Upper Mesopotamia, lay near the contemporary border with Syria. Founded by Seleucus I Nicator in 304 B.C. atop an earlier settlement, Edessa succeeded the waning Seleucid kingdom, coming under the rule of a series of monarchs often named Agbar. Straddling the edges of Roman and Parthian, later Persian, territories, Edessa was caught in the constant tug-of-war for dominion between these two ancient superpowers. The city's historical prominence was marked by events such as the defeat of Marcus Licinius Crassus by the Parthians at Carrhae in 53 B.C. and the infamous capture of the Roman emperor Valerian by Shapur I during the Battle of Edessa in A.D. 260.
The city's most notable geographical blessing was its abundant water supply, a feature still present today in the form of thriving fish pools noted by the itinerant pilgrim nun Egeria in the fourth century. Edessa also served as a critical juncture on the Silk Road and as a passage from Armenia to Southern Mesopotamia. By the late second century, Edessa had cemented its status as a client kingdom of Rome, epitomized by coins minted between A.D. 161 and 169 which bear the title φιλορώμαιος (philoromaios) for King Maʿnu, indicating his alliance with Rome. The subsequent reign of King Abgar VIII, son of Maʿnu, from 177 to 212, is remembered for its numismatic legacy depicting the monarch alongside Roman emperors Commodus and then Septimius Severus. Despite a brief insurrection against Severus, Abgar VIII capitulated and retained his throne until the city's transformation into a Roman colony by Emperor Caracalla in 212/213. The Abgarid dynasty saw a fleeting revival under Emperor Gordian III around 240, but this was short-lived as Edessa reverted to Roman, and later, Byzantine control following the empire's bifurcation in the fifth century.
The advent of Islam brought a pivotal change to Edessa, which capitulated to Muslim forces in 639. This transition, while altering the city's political landscape by erasing the longstanding frontier between Byzantine and Persian empires, also ushered in a period of relative peace for Edessa, no longer a battleground for Eastern and Western powers. Under Muslim rule, Christians retained the freedom to practice their faith, albeit under the conditions of paying the gizya tax, supporting the Islamic state, refraining from proselytizing Muslims, and observing restrictions on public displays of their religious symbols. These provisions became the standard for other Mesopotamian cities that fell under Muslim dominion. Life in Edessa, as in the wider region, continued under a semblance of tranquility, punctuated occasionally by disputes over taxes and instances of persecution that left the Christian community with little recourse, remote as they were from the centers of power. Over time, the Christian presence in Edessa diminished and ultimately vanished, leaving behind scant remnants of its pre-Islamic era, save for the citadel and a few other relics.
Edessa, the city that lent its name to the renowned icon of Christ, continued to be associated with the Image long after the city itself had faded from prominence. The Image of Christ was retained in Edessa for over three centuries post its capitulation to Muslim rule, indicating a period where Christian artifacts were preserved despite the community's subdued existence. This suggests a nuanced interaction with Muslim authorities, who did not engage in the indiscriminate destruction of Christian relics. In ecclesiastical history, Edessa is acclaimed for being the inaugural state to declare Christianity as its state religion. Scholars like Tixeront posit that the Abgar legend is intertwined with the dawn of Christianity in Edessa, possibly aligned with the first sermons of the faith in the city. The legend, with its historical implications, supports this assertion, but it doesn't necessarily extend to the precise origins of the Image or the reputed correspondence between Christ and Abgar, assuming the latter is not contemporaneous with Jesus. Christianity likely found its footing in Edessa before the Image's arrival, as it's improbable the Image was present before the religion's establishment; without the context of Christianity, the Image's presence would lack purpose. Regrettably, absent any early records of the Image in Edessa, its antecedent history remains elusive.
Regarding Edessa's official embrace of Christianity, it is generally believed to have occurred under the reign of a different Abgar—Abgar VIII the Great (177-212). By his time, a Christian church was active in Edessa, and the renowned scholar Bardaisan, a contemporary of Abgar VIII, likely adopted Christian tenets within his philosophical musings. The presence of Christian heretical sects like the Valentinians and Marcionites towards the second century's close also denotes an earlier foundation of the religion in the city. Tixeront conjectures that Christianity's first evangelization in Edessa happened around 160 to 170 A.D.
During the reign of Abgar VIII, there is numismatic evidence of Christian symbolism, with coins from this period bearing the cross. A bronze coin from 179-192 A.D. in the Ashmolean Museum notably features Abgar donning a tiara adorned with a cross. Similarly, a statue situated in the garden of the Historical Museum in Şanlıurfa, thought to be from Edessa, conspicuously displays a Christian cross. These artifacts testify to the early and visible presence of Christianity in the region. Christianity, having taken root in Edessa by at least the second century, was further affirmed by the association of the Image of Christ with the city, underscoring the religion's esteemed position there. Edessa was also a center for theological discourse, particularly on the nature of Christ within the Miaphysite tradition, which flourished alongside other regions like Egypt, Syria, Armenia, and Ethiopia. Miaphysites, often conflated with Monophysites by their detractors, maintained that Christ's nature was united as both human and divine, as opposed to the Monophysite view of a singular, predominantly divine nature. The theological debate was complex, as demonstrated by the contrasting interpretations of Cyril of Alexandria's writings. At the Council of Chalcedon in 451, the orthodox stance articulated Christ's dual natures—human and divine—which seemed to diverge from Cyril's earlier assertion of one incarnate nature of God. However, this apparent contradiction could be contextualized as a response to specific heretical claims at the time, rather than a comprehensive doctrinal statement.
The Image of Edessa entered this debate as a tangible affirmation of Christ's humanity. The human visage of Christ believed to be miraculously self-imprinted on the cloth, was a powerful testament to his incarnation. It was argued that this image, representing Christ's entire person, encapsulated both his human and divine natures. This interpretation, however, may be anachronistic, projecting later theological understandings onto an object revered for its more straightforward, immediate proof of Christ's humanity. The veneration of the Image in Edessa, particularly within Miaphysite Christianity, implies a recognition and acceptance of Christ's human nature. Without this acceptance, the Image would not have achieved such prominence in Edessa's religious life.
The Image of Edessa emerges as a significant relic amidst theological discussions, yet its precise origins remain shrouded in mystery. Various scholars have put forth myriad hypotheses concerning where, when, and how the Image came into existence, but none have succeeded in presenting a universally compelling account. Consequently, a reassessment of both historical and contemporary sources is crucial to shed light on this enigma. The "Narratio de imagine Edessena," a text detailing the history of the Image, situates its creation during the lifetime of Jesus, specifically before his crucifixion, aligning with the consensus of numerous other accounts. The "Narratio" presents two narratives about the Image's inception: the traditional tale involving King Abgar of Edessa, who dispatched a messenger to capture Christ's likeness but instead received a cloth with Jesus' visage miraculously imprinted on it, and an alternative account placing the event in the Garden of Gethsemane, where, according to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus' face was imprinted on a cloth given to him as he sweated blood. Indeed, there was a monarch named Abgar who ruled Edessa during the time of Christ, often identified as Abgar V, with a reign from approximately 13 to 50 A.D. This king, part of a lineage that shared the same royal name, is also referenced by the historian Tacitus, though his depiction therein is less than favorable.
The narrative of the Image of Edessa gains prominence amidst the backdrop of the city's history. Tacitus recounts an episode involving Abgar, the king of the Arabs, who, through deceit, delayed a young prince in Edessa, thereby altering the course of political events. However, the existence of King Abgar, contemporary with Jesus, does not substantiate the early origins of the reputed cloth bearing Christ's image. Mirković offers a succinct perspective, suggesting the portrait of Jesus associated with the Abgar legend only gained significance after the mid-sixth century, casting doubt on the idea that Eusebius deliberately omitted any reference to such a portrait in his accounts. The earliest mentions of the correspondence between Jesus and Abgar, which later eclipsed the importance of the letters themselves, are devoid of any reference to the Image, thus providing little support for a first-century provenance. The oldest known written version of the Abgar legend comes from Eusebius' "Ecclesiastical History," dating events to the year 340 of the Seleucid era or around AD 30, close to the time of the crucifixion. Eusebius makes no mention of a physical image of Jesus in his rendition of the story, despite claiming his narrative is drawn from documents in Edessa translated from Syriac—claims which cannot be verified.
Following Eusebius, the next significant text comes from Egeria, a nun from the northwest of Spain who chronicled her pilgrimage to holy sites in the late fourth century. Egeria recounts the Abgar story as told by the bishop of Edessa, including the letters exchanged with Jesus, which she received copies of. These copies from Edessa purportedly contained more content than those she had at home, possibly including the promise that Edessa would be protected from enemies—a promise which seemed to be recognized in Edessa, as the bishop's retelling of Abgar's prayer during a Persian attack suggests. In sum, while the Image of Edessa is entwined with the city's Christian heritage and associated with miraculous legends, the earliest records do not corroborate the existence of a physical image from the time of Christ. Without further archaeological or textual discoveries, the true origins of the Image remain an intriguing but unresolved chapter in the history of early Christianity.
The discussion here revolves around the historical account of Egeria, a traveler and writer from the 4th century, and her record of the legend involving King Abgar and Jesus Christ. Egeria's account is noted for certain omissions, such as no mention of Abgar’s illness, the character Ananias in Jerusalem, or an image or portrait of Christ. This has led to debates among historians and scholars about the implications of her silence on these matters. Andrew Palmer, a scholar in this field, argues that Egeria's silence on the image or portrait of Christ should not be seen as definitive proof of its non-existence. He points out that travel literature can have curious omissions, citing Herodotus's failure to mention the Sphinx despite describing the surrounding pyramids. Palmer suggests that the image of Christ might be older than some historians, like Runciman and Averil Cameron, believe. The Chronicle of Pseudo-Joshua the Stylite, a text from the early 6th century, makes no mention of the Abgar-Jesus correspondence or the Image, but it does reference a promise from Christ to protect the city of Edessa. This absence in the writings of Eusebius and Egeria presents a challenge for those arguing for the image's existence before their time.
The image of Christ first appears in a Syriac work known as the Doctrine of Addai, dating around AD 400. This text, also called Labubna, is believed to defend orthodox beliefs in Edessa and is linked to Jesus's first apostle sent to the city. In the Doctrine of Addai, Abgar’s messenger Hanan, identified as Ananias in Eusebius's account, is portrayed as an artist who paints a portrait of Christ, differing from the later belief that the image was not made by human hands. The "Chronicle of 1234" also mentions this tradition, stating that the image was initially intended to be on wood but was ultimately transferred onto cloth. In summary, the debate centers around the historical veracity and interpretation of various accounts regarding an image or portrait of Christ linked to King Abgar. The differences in these accounts and the absence of certain details in some texts like those of Egeria and Eusebius contribute to ongoing scholarly discussions about the origins and nature of this image in early Christian traditions.
The concept of Edessa as an impregnable city emerges from the narrative of Jesus' purported reply to King Abgar, as detailed in the Doctrine—an early text where the letter begins to be seen as a talisman or charm. This notion of divine protection was also echoed in a correspondence from Darius to Augustine in 429, where it was conveyed that God not only healed the king but also promised enduring safety for his city, a pledge of perpetual immunity from foes. A notable divergence between Eusebius' rendition and the Doctrine of Addai is the nature of Jesus' response to Abgar. In the Doctrine, the reply is oral and includes a vow that Edessa would never succumb to adversaries, while Eusebius records a written response from Christ. This variation underscores the evolution of the legend, illustrating how elements such as the painted portrayal of Christ and the written reply underwent transformation in subsequent retellings, eventually solidifying around the motif of a miraculously created image and a written letter of great import. The Doctrine's significance is further highlighted by its early reference (around 400 A.D.) to a depiction of Christ, serving as evidence of the legend's dynamic progression. The Image of Edessa is also cryptically alluded to in a Syriac hymn from the first half of the sixth century, commemorating the dedication of Edessa's new cathedral after the original was ravaged by floods in 525. The verses describe an "image not made by hands," but scholars such as Drijvers and Whitby interpret these lines as metaphorical, referring to the natural designs in the marble of the church walls rather than a literal, miraculous icon. This interpretation suggests that the hymn does not, in fact, reference the Holy Face, the acheiropoietos icon, but instead celebrates the inherent beauty and perceived sanctity of the church's construction materials. In the scholarly analysis of a particular strophe translated by Andrew Palmer, there's a focus on the interpretation of a Syriac verse related to an image not made by hands. Palmer's translation reads as follows: the marble is imprinted with an image not made with hands, suggesting a divine or supernatural aspect to it. The walls of the structure, possibly a reference to a church or a significant building, are described as being clad in this marble, which shines with a brightness resembling sunlight or a reservoir of sunlight. The crux of the debate lies in the original Syriac text's lack of a definite article before the phrase “image not made by hands.” This omission leaves open the interpretation of whether the marble is compared to "an image not made by hands" or "the image not made by hands.” The latter would directly reference the famous Image of Edessa, believed to be a miraculous imprint of Christ's face. In contrast, the former could imply a more general comparison to any divine or miraculous image.
When comparing this to the dedication hymn of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, no mention of such an image is found, suggesting that the Syriac verse could be unique in this aspect. The interpretation challenge arises in understanding whether the comparison is purely physical or more abstract, relating to the miraculous or divine origin of the objects. The argument extends to the cultural and religious context of sixth-century Edessa, where any mention of an image not made by human hands, especially in such a significant city in early Christian history, would likely invoke thoughts of the Image of Edessa, or the face of Christ. This understanding would be almost instinctive among the contemporaries, making any such reference in Edessa heavily loaded with this implication. The interpretation of this Syriac verse hinges on the nuances of the language and the cultural-religious context of the period. The debate centers on whether the verse subtly references the famous Image of Edessa, a miraculous imprint of Christ's face, or if it draws a more general comparison to divine or supernatural imagery.
