Saint Tarasios of Constantinople (730-806)

The patriarch who restored images to the Eastern Church

For more than half a century, since the edict of Leo III the Isaurian (around 726), the Byzantine Empire had waged war on icons: images smashed, mosaics covered, monks persecuted, all crowned by the iconoclastic council of Hiereia (754) which claimed to condemn the veneration of images in the name of the faith^[2]. When Tarasios became patriarch, this policy was still official. His name remains forever linked to the overturning of this crisis: it was he who prepared, convened, and presided over the Second Council of Nicaea, which proclaimed that “the honor given to the image passes to its prototype”^[3]. For details of this doctrine, see The Theology of the Icon.

The layman placed at the summit of the Church

The case of Tarasios is rare and striking: he was neither monk, nor priest, nor even cleric when he was chosen as patriarch. Chief secretary of the empire, a man of the world, he was raised within a few days through all the ranks—deacon, priest, bishop—to be consecrated on December 25, 784^[4][5]. This meteoric promotion of a layman went against canonical rules and even worried the pope himself; yet it says something about the man: to save the Church, they sought not a careerist from the clergy but a servant of the State known for his integrity, learning, and orthodoxy.

The architect of communion with Rome

The trait that Catholic memory recalls with gratitude is the condition Tarasios set before accepting: he would only become patriarch on the condition that the unity of the Church be restored and that, in union with the pope, an ecumenical council be convened^[6]. At a time when Constantinople, torn by iconoclasm, had in fact cut itself off from the West and the other patriarchates, Tarasios made the return to communion with Rome the key to the restoration of the faith. Pope Hadrian I sent his legates to Nicaea: together, East and West, the Church regained the veneration of images.

A Family of the High Aristocracy of Constantinople

Tarasios was born around 730 in Constantinople, into a prominent family of the service aristocracy. His father, George (Georgios), was a patrician and prefect (eparch) of the capital—one of the highest civil offices in the empire; his mother was named Eukratia^[7]. The family was so well connected that it counted among its relatives the future Patriarch Photius, one of the greatest minds of Byzantium^[8][9]. Tarasios received the refined education of an elite son: literature, rhetoric, law, administration. Nothing in his youth destined him for the Church: everything prepared him to serve the State.

The First Secretary of the Empire

Indeed, Tarasios climbed the ranks of the civil career to its heights. He became a senator, then prōtoasēkrētis—first imperial secretary, that is, head of the chancery, the man who drafted and countersigned acts of power, serving Empress Irene and her young son, Emperor Constantine VI^[10]. This was a position of utmost trust, at the heart of government. Tarasios gained a reputation for competence, moderation, and integrity—and, discreetly, for fidelity to the veneration of images, which Irene’s court wished to restore.

The Election of 784 and the Conditions Set

In 784, Patriarch Paul IV, tormented by remorse for having governed the Church under the iconoclast regime, resigned, retired to a monastery, and reportedly recommended that a council be convened to restore the images^[11]. The clergy and the court unanimously turned to Irene’s secretary: Tarasios^[12]. He initially refused, declaring himself unworthy and highlighting the danger of elevating a layman in a Church “separated from the Catholics of the West and isolated from the other Eastern patriarchates”^[13]. He accepted, according to his Life, only on the condition “that a general council be convened to settle the disputes dividing the Church” over the holy images^[14]. He thus set his condition—the unity with Rome and an ecumenical council—and, once this was accepted, he consented.

“The position of the Church of Constantinople had become very difficult, for it had separated itself from the Catholics of Western Europe and was isolated from the other Eastern patriarchates.” — summary of Saint Tarasios’ argument at his election, Catholic Encyclopedia^[15]

A Swift Ordination

One canonical obstacle remained: a layman cannot be made bishop overnight. Tarasios was therefore ordained successively deacon, then priest, before being consecrated bishop and patriarch on December 25, 784^[16][17]. This rapidity, contrary to the usual rule, displeased Pope Hadrian I, who considered the direct promotion of a layman risky—but who, once assured of Tarasios’ orthodoxy and his desire to restore the images in communion with Rome, recognized him as patriarch^[18]. The episode sums up Tarasios: a man thrust forward by circumstances, who accepted only by linking his elevation to the restoration of right faith and unity.

A Century of War Against Images

To grasp what Tarasios accomplished, one must recall the scale of the crisis. Since Leo III, the empire had made the destruction of icons a state policy, convinced that the veneration of images was idolatry. Saint John Damascene, sheltered in Islamic lands, had laid the doctrinal foundation for the defense of icons; but within the empire, persecution reigned. Tarasios inherited an officially iconoclast Church, which he had to bring back to the received faith. For the full history of this crisis, see The Iconoclast Controversy.

The Failed Attempt of 786

The first attempt was short-lived. In early August 786, the council opened in Constantinople, in the Church of the Holy Apostles. But iconoclast soldiers, loyal to the policies of previous emperors, burst in armed and dispersed the assembly^[19][20]. Empress Irene, far from giving up, maneuvered skillfully: under the pretext of a military campaign, she sent away the imperial guard loyal to iconoclasm, had them disarmed and dismissed, then reconvened the council—this time far from the capital, at Nicaea^[21].

The Council of 787

The council thus met at Nicaea (present-day İznik), from September 24 to October 13, 787. It gathered about 350 members, including some 308 bishops or their representatives—the Eastern tradition often speaks of 367 Fathers^[22][23]. Tarasios presided^[24]. In seven sessions, the council condemned iconoclasm, rejected the pseudo-council of Hieria (754), and solemnly restored the veneration of holy images, carefully distinguishing the adoration (latreia) due to God alone from the veneration (proskynesis, douleia) given to images, to the saints, and to the Cross^[25]. The council also promulgated twenty-two canons of ecclesiastical discipline. For the doctrine itself, see The Theology of the Icon and The Second Council of Nicaea (787).

“The honor given to the image passes to its prototype, and he who venerates the image venerates in it the reality of what is represented.” — definition of the Second Council of Nicaea, presided over by Saint Tarasios (787)^[26]

Communion Restored with Pope Hadrian I

Image source and rights: Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

The council would not have had ecumenical authority without Rome. Tarasios and Irene had written to Pope Hadrian I, who replied, sent his legates, and recognized the council: East and West once again professed the same faith regarding images^[27][28]. For Catholic memory, this point is crucial: the restoration of the veneration of images in the East was accomplished with the See of Peter, not without it. One shadow remained—the question of the title “ecumenical patriarch” and certain tensions over protocol and translation of the acts—but the essential remains: under Tarasios, Constantinople restored the unity of faith with Rome.

The Fight Against Simony

Tarasios was not just the man of a council: he governed. One of his battles was the fight against simony—the trafficking of ordinations, the act of paying to obtain a sacred order or an ecclesiastical office, an endemic plague of the Byzantine Church. Accused by some monks of tolerating this evil, Tarasios vigorously defended himself and published a severe synodal letter against simoniacs, reminding all that the grace of God cannot be bought^[29]. The Second Council of Nicaea itself, through its canons, firmly condemned this practice^[30].

“Economy” Toward Repentant Iconoclast Bishops

The great practical question after the council was this: what should be done with bishops ordained during iconoclasm who repented and acknowledged the veneration of images? Should they be deposed, or received back into their office? Tarasios, followed by the majority of the council and by the pope, chose the path of economy (oikonomia): to welcome the repentant bishops without deposing them, provided they renounced the heresy^[31]. This moderation aimed to reconcile the Church without emptying it of its pastors, and to avoid casting into opposition those who had been swept along by persecution. But it scandalized the more rigorous.

The Showdown with the Studites

The monks of the strict party—Abbot Platon of Sakkoudion and his nephew, the future Saint Theodore the Studite—judged this indulgence dangerous: for them, one could not compromise with men tainted by heresy. The conflict between monastic rigor and patriarchal economy would run through the entire episcopate of Tarasios and reappear later under his successors. The Church did not resolve the matter by humiliating either side: it canonized Tarasios and Theodore the Studite, recognizing in one the pastoral wisdom that reconciles, and in the other the prophetic intransigence that recalls the absolute demands of divine law. Two complementary forms of holiness, not contradictory.

The Adulterous Remarriage of Constantine VI

The most painful trial came from the very palace he had served. In 795, Emperor Constantine VI repudiated his lawful wife, Maria of Amnia, who had not given him a male heir, to marry his mistress, Theodote^[32]. The act was adultery disguised as marriage and an abuse of power; it would be called the “Moechian” controversy (from the Greek moicheia, “adultery”), after this theological-political dispute born from the emperor’s illegitimate remarriage^[33]. The emperor demanded ecclesiastical approval.

Tarasios’s Refusal and the Path of Economy

Tarasios’s conduct was that of a man caught between the law of God and political threat. The Catholic Encyclopedia is clear: Tarasios explicitly refused to celebrate this second marriage^[34]. Alban Butler goes further: the patriarch declared that he “would rather suffer death and all manner of torments than consent to the emperor’s design”^[35]. But—as Butler reports—fearing that the emperor, driven to extremes, might re-establish the heresy that had been suppressed with such difficulty, he did not immediately sanction the priest Joseph who had agreed to bless the union, once again using economy to avoid a greater evil^[36]. The Studites, for their part, broke communion and were exiled for their protest. The controversy only subsided with the fall of Constantine VI: in 797, the emperor was captured, blinded on the orders of his own mother Irene, and deposed, with her becoming reigning empress^[37]. The priest Joseph was eventually condemned.

“What is the use of gaining the emperor’s favor, if one loses the law of the Gospel?” — the spirit of Saint Tarasios’s position in the Moechian controversy, who refused to bless the remarriage^[38]

The Judgment of History

How should Tarasios be judged in this affair? The sources differ in tone: some emphasize his refusal to celebrate the marriage, others his prudent tolerance toward the guilty priest^[39][40]. The truth likely lies in nuance: Tarasios never approved of the adultery, but he delayed sanctions so as not to deliver the entire Church to a new iconoclastic persecution. One may prefer the rigor of Theodore; one cannot accuse Tarasios of having yielded on principle. He held the helm in the storm, weighing the lesser evil—an ungrateful task for any pastoral government.

Asceticism at the Summit of Power

Image source and rights: Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

What is most striking about Tarasios is that he lived as an ascetic while holding one of the highest offices in the empire. Even after becoming patriarch, he did not abandon his rigor: fasts, night vigils, prolonged meditation on the word of God, all joined to the “works of evangelical philanthropy”^[41]. Simply dressed, without ostentation, he made his very sobriety a form of preaching: “his example alone was a sermon against the arrogant luxury of the clergy of his time”^[42]. At a time when a patriarch was expected to live like a prince, Tarasios chose simplicity.

“The New Joseph”: Charity Toward the Poor

His charity earned him a magnificent nickname: he was called “the new Joseph”, in allusion to the biblical patriarch who, in Egypt, fed the hungry^[43]. Tarasios founded hospices and inns for the destitute, kept a register of the poor to be assisted, gave them a monthly allowance, and—an act that struck his contemporaries—invited the poor to his own table to share his frugal meal^[44]. In winter, dressed in his episcopal vestments, he personally served the poor generous portions^[45]. Butler notes that he personally visited every house and hospital in Constantinople, and that “there was nothing superfluous at his table”^[46]. The secretary who became patriarch had made himself the servant of the least.

“He considered himself the servant of all, refusing to be served.” — portrait of Saint Tarasios the patriarch, according to hagiographical tradition^[47]

The Humility of a Servant

Ultimately, all the holiness of Tarasios lies in this reversal: the man who held the highest position in the imperial administration, and was then raised to the foremost see of the East, chose to be the last. He did not use the Church for himself; he served it. He did not put faith at the service of power, but resisted power in the name of faith. His humility was not a pose, but the constant attitude of a man who knew himself to be only a steward of God’s goods—precisely the virtue of the “new Joseph.”

Death (February 25, 806)

After twenty-one years as patriarch, Tarasios fell gravely ill. Yet he continued to celebrate the Liturgy every day, leaning on his staff^[48]. Tradition recounts that, in his final agony, he fell into a kind of ecstasy in which “he was heard disputing and arguing with a crowd of accusers” who reviewed his entire life; responding to each accusation, he finally regained “great serenity” and passed away in peace^[49][50]. He died on February 25, 806, and it is said that the whole city mourned. He was buried in the monastery he had founded on the shore of the Bosphorus^[51][52].

Veneration in East and West

Saint Tarasios is honored by both lungs of the Church. The Byzantine East venerates him as a great confessor of the faith; the West has included him in the Roman Martyrology^[53]. The East celebrates him on February 25, the day of his death (dies natalis); the current Roman Martyrology lists him on February 18^[54].

His Life by Ignatios the Deacon

We know Tarasios above all through the Life of Saint Tarasios (BHG 1698), written shortly after his death by Ignatios the Deacon—future Metropolitan of Nicaea, himself a witness of the iconoclastic period^[57]. This biography, a first-rate historical source, established the image of the ascetic and charitable patriarch that has endured, and still nourishes research today on the Second Council of Nicaea and the circle of Irene^[58].

His Legacy: From Nikephoros to the Triumph of Orthodoxy

Tarasios’s work was not final: a second iconoclasm would break out in 815, under Leo V. But the victory of 787 had laid the doctrinal foundation on which all defenders of holy images would rely. His immediate successor, Saint Nikephoros, then Saint Theodore the Studite, would take up the struggle; and it was the Empress Saint Theodora who, in 843, would proclaim the Triumph of Orthodoxy, sealing forever what Tarasios had begun. The chain of great Byzantine witnesses to the veneration of images—John Damascene, Tarasios, Nikephoros, Theodore, Methodios, Theodora—begins, within the empire, with him.

Saint Tarasios speaks to our time in several ways. First, he shows that a layperson engaged in worldly affairs can become a great saint: nothing in his administrative career destined him for sainthood, and yet it was at the summit of the Church that he displayed heroic charity and asceticism. Holiness is not reserved for the cloister.

Next, he teaches the difficult art of pastoral governance: holding firm to principle—faith, moral law, unity with Rome—while knowing, through economy, how to tolerate a lesser evil to avoid a greater one. His moderation was not weakness, but wisdom in the service of reconciliation. Finally, his charity makes him a model for every pastor and every Christian: becoming “the new Joseph”, he reminds us that authority in the Church only makes sense as service to the poorest.

“It is better to serve the poor at one’s table than to be served as a prince.” — the spirit of the witness of Saint Tarasios, patriarch and father of the poor^[59]

• The Second Council of Nicaea (787) — the seventh ecumenical council, convened and presided over by Tarasios, which restored the veneration of images.
• The theology of the icon — the doctrine defined at Nicaea II: the honor given to the image passes to its prototype.
• The iconoclast controversy — the great Byzantine crisis that the council of Tarasios resolved for the first time.
• Saint John Damascene (675–749) — the Greek Father who laid the doctrinal foundation for the defense of icons before the council.
• Saint Theodore the Studite (759–826) — the rigorist opponent of Tarasios’s “economy,” canonized like him: two complementary forms of holiness.
• Saint Nikephoros of Constantinople (c. 758–828) — his successor, who resumed the struggle for images during the second iconoclasm.
• Saint Theodora the Empress (815–867) — who proclaimed the Triumph of Orthodoxy in 843, completing the work begun by Tarasios.