Psalm 110 opens by quoting words addressed by God to the ‘Lord’ of David: ‘Sit at my right hand till I make your enemies your footstool’ (v.1).

This line is particularly significant for Christian exegetes since it forms part of a group of citations that reappear in the New Testament and are used by Jesus himself in his disputes with Pharisees (Matthew 22:41–45; Mark 12:35–37). Hence, this text was re-read in Christian terms from very early on, and was considered messianic, highlighting the connection between the LORD in Hebrew Scripture and Jesus (read as the other ‘Lord’).

This parallelism between the Old and New Testament texts provides the context for the image found in this nineteenth-century Russian icon. The panel represents a rather late example of the so-called New Testament Trinity iconography that was introduced into Eastern Christian art at an advanced stage of the fourteenth century.

The image depicts a striking combination of figures: God the Father with grey hair and white robes is represented seated beside Jesus, who appropriately appears on his right, distinguished by a halo with an inscribed cross and a caption bearing an abbreviated form of the name ‘Jesus Christ’. The elderly figure is also identified by an inscription as Lord Sabaoth ('Lord of Hosts'). The flying dove with wings spread wide embodies the Holy Spirit and completes this complex rendering of the Trinity, which grants each hypostasis (or ‘person’) of God an individual representation and gives God the Father and Christ equal visual importance.

Conventionally the two figures of Christ and God the Father would come to be shown as jointly enthroned. Here, however—instead of a throne—the two figures are seated on a ‘red field’ which is filled with the faces of cherubim, while winged whirling wheels serve as a footstool. The presence of these heavenly forces is reflective of the way visions of God are described in the Old Testament (Ezekiel 1; Daniel 7). Ιf read in the light of Psalm 110, they bring to mind the ‘enemies’ that—according to verse 1—are destined to form the footstool of God. In other words, like throne images, they allude to the absolute cosmic power of God, since all powers—whether earthly or heavenly; hostile or benign—are subject to the divine sway.

References

Bigham, Steven. 1995. Image of God the Father in Orthodox Theology and Iconography and Other Studies (Torrance: Oakwood Publications)

St John Chrysostom. 1998. Commentary on the Psalms, trans. with an introduction by Robert Charles Hill (Brookline: Holy Cross Orthodox Press)

This painting by the eighteenth-century Venetian artist Giovanni Battista Pittoni portrays King David on his knees before the Ark of the Covenant. The scene is usually associated with 1 Chronicles 16:1. According to the Scriptures, David transported the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem and placed it on Mount Zion. The line in Psalm 110—‘The Lord sends forth from Zion your mighty sceptre’ (v.2)—seems not to be accidental in this context. Both the king and the LORD share their seat of power on the Holy Mountain. The king’s rule is rendered mighty by the Lord’s commission.

David, traditionally honoured as the author of the psalms, wears his full regalia, consisting of golden crown, fur cape and luxurious garments. Nevertheless, he demonstrates his reverence and humility before the Ark.

The latter is depicted as a longitudinal casket with angelic figures on top, known to have decorated the original container of the Tablets of the Law (Exodus 25:10–22). David’s traditional attribute of a harp is put aside, left almost carelessly on the steps of the temple at far right, as the King of Israel pays homage to his Lord.

Nothing intervenes in the silent dialogue between David and God, not even the High Priest (Nathan, perhaps) who is depicted standing behind David adjusting or simply staying the motion of the censer. His presence is justified not only by his ritual activity but also by the way he indicates the particular sacred, almost sacerdotal, powers of the king himself. This theme of priesthood resonates with the words of the Psalm ‘You are a priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek’ (v.4).

The condensing clouds of smoke around the holy of holies, and the opening of the sky in the upper right corner of the composition, allude to the idea of the divine presence.

Pittoni masterfully highlights the fact that only David is aware of this revelation of God’s presence, while other figures—the priest, the two men conversing in the background, and the boy playing with a dog—are left unaware of the mystery. The painting shows us a moment of privileged access that is the king’s alone. In this respect it helps us to grasp one of Psalm 110’s central ideas: that the King of Israel and all his descendants have supremacy over their enemies, and spiritual sovereignty over the world, because of their special covenant with God.

References

Caneva, Caterina (ed.). 2002. Il Corridoio Vasariano agli Uffizi (Firenze: Silvana Editoriale), pp.155–6

Zava Boccazzi, Franca. 1979. Pittoni, Giambattista [l’opera completa] (Venezia: Alfieri), p.129

The apse mosaic of the destroyed Dormition Church in Nicaea was conceptually constructed around the figure of Mary standing upright with the Christ Child at her bosom.

Black and white photographs taken not long before the destruction of the monument in 1922 reveal that the mosaic was reworked on several occasions. Traces visible around the figure of the Virgin indicate that it replaced an earlier mosaic representing the cross, perhaps an iconoclastic modification of the original design.

Directly above the Mother of God a large semicircular section of the mosaic alluded to the heavenly realm. It was characterized by three bands rendered in different shades of blue. From within this sky a right hand—the Hand of God—pointed in the direction of the Mother of God. The idea of divine presence would have been reinforced with the help of inlaid rays of blue light emanating from the sky and penetrating the golden surface of the apse.

At the top of the sanctuary space, there was a mosaic image of the Hetoimasia: the throne prepared for the Second Coming of the Lord.

The meaning and theological message of the entire triumphant scene unfolding before the eyes of the beholder was made explicit with the help of inscriptions. Inscribed in Greek in a semicircle below the representation of the heavens was a slightly-paraphrased line from Psalm 110:3: ‘I begat Thee in the womb before the Morning Star’. The theophanic vision of the Incarnation in the apse was linked to the Old Testament promise that God was the source of life and future salvation.

By creating a complex symbiosis between the text of the psalm and the image, the authors of this decorative scene provided a visual commentary which enriched earlier interpretations of the psalm with Christological associations, and read it as a quintessential statement about the mystery of Incarnation.

References

Barber, Charles. 2005. ‘Theotokos and “Logos”: The Interpretation and Reinterpretation of the Sanctuary Programme of the Koimesis Church, Nicaea’, in Images of the Mother of God: Perceptions of the Theotokos in Byzantium, ed. by Maria Vassilaki (Aldershot: Ashgate), pp.43–60

Underwood, Paul. A. 1959. ‘The Evidence of Restorations in the Sanctuary Mosaics of the Church of the Dormition at Nicaea’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, 13: 235–43