Reflections

Occasionally, Fr. John takes a break from his travelogue to offer explanation and insight into aspects of Orthodox Christianity that is relevant to what he is experiencing on his pilgrimage. They are featured here.

Icons

In Psalm 8 we read: “What is man that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visiteth him? Behold, thou hast made him little lower than the angels.”

The first “icon” in the Bible was Adam. He was created in the “image and likeness of God.” Adam was not God, but his essence reflected God’s nature, not merely God’s handiwork. Otherwise, angels and animals would have been said to have been created in God’s “image and likeness”, too. But they were not, only Man. In Man, we see something special.

In the New Testament, Christ is said to be the express image (Greek: eikon, i.e., icon) of the Father. He is not the imprint, as an impressed image would be. He is the one doing the imprinting to make the image. It is in this context of the “image” that the Orthodox use of iconography must be understood: a likeness of the one depicted, but not that person.

Icons came to use in the Church long before the Scriptures were available for personal use and study, which was only in the 15th century. Icons depicted the scenes from the Bible, and the important individuals in those stories. But they also portrayed likenesses of those Christians who came after the time contained in Biblical events. For Orthodox Christians there is no division between “Bible times” and the present. History is all one continuous thread of God’s saving works.

In time, it might be said, that icons came to be seen as the family portrait gallery of the Church, depicting with color and brush what could be written with pen and ink. But it is important to note that the iconographers were only to paint what had been seen. Only that could be depicted. So, proper subjects for icons would be Christ, his disciples and the events described in Scripture. Since God the Father has not been seen, an attempt to portray him is not allowed.

For the Orthodox, the use of iconography came to be seen as a defense of Christian doctrine that God became Man. If this is so, he could be depicted. If not, no depiction is possible. Since many of the initial battles in Church life were fought over the divinity of Christ, icons became a powerful weapon in asserting that indeed, God did become Man.

In the 7th century, with the rise of Islam, the Church was under specific attack about its use of icons and what appeared to some, but especially to Moslems, that icons were “graven images” forbidden by the second commandment. Of course, iconography ran counter to basic Islamic belief: that Jesus was only a prophet. It was a battle that lasted over 100 years between those who favored the use of icons and those who did not, the iconoclasts, or icon breakers. But the Church Fathers saw the attack against icons for what it ultimately was, an attack against the Incarnation. In the end, the iconoclasts were defeated.

On the one hand, the painted interior of an Orthodox Church may be seen as a colorful walk through the pages of the Scriptures and the history of the Church, enlightening both the learned and the unlearned about the historical events depicted. They are also theological statements, especially about the divinity of Christ and the Incarnation.

The reverence shown an icon must be thought of in terms of the respect given the American Flag. Removal of men’s hats, standing at attention when Old Glory passes by, right hands placed over the heart, or raised in salute, even making sure the flag does not touch the ground, are all ways that one’s patriotism is displayed. We pledge allegiance to the flag, and to the Republic for which it stands. Few Americans consider this idolatry. The flag is not a god.

Likewise for the icon, it is treated with reverence because of the theological truths it conveys and in the case of an icon of the Saviour, the One who whom it stands. In the case of the Church of Russia, as you might have gleaned, icons literally were the banners, the standards, carried into battle, visual reminders to any and all of the God upon whom they called for aid. The icon, too, like the flag is not a god.

If this still seems to beg the question about the Second Commandment, there is a point to be considered. This particular commandment specifically forbids “idols” (idolos), not “images” (eikon). The translation of “graven images” instead of “idols” might best be seen against the backdrop of the Reformation and the biases of the translators of the first English Bibles.

That “images” were used by divine command in the Old Testament is observed in several places, chiefly in the adornment of the temple: images of angels embroidered in the curtains, images of the cherubim atop the Ark of the Covenant, and the twelve bulls used in the courtyard holding the brass sea upon their backs.

The Ark itself would be seen as an icon of God’s presence, the footstool for his feet. That the Ark was holy had nothing to do with it: it was only wood and metal. But it was a symbol, beyond symbols, of God’s presence on earth. Whole armies were put to flight by its appearing and no one, not even well meaning priests were allowed to touch it.

Finally, icons are properly done in a specific way that is not realistic portraiture: it is stylized. Humans are represented, but in such a way that we see these are no mere humans, but Christ in his divinity and his disciples being transformed and saved by his grace.

[You've noted, no doubt, my railing against the realism of the Renaissance when its influence began to be felt by Russia in the Church. Renaissance art is wonderful art. Its realism captures every curve of the body, every ripple of muscle and every lock of hair, (or wart on the face if you are looking at Rembrandt). This is the problem: Renaissance art focuses on man as the measure. Iconography, instead, focuses on man as the measured: the fullness of the measure of the stature of Christ and not the human form in and of itself. It is the innate humanism of Renaissance art that disqualifies it from proper use liturgically for Orthodox Christians.

As a segue: this is why Michelangelo's painting of the Sistine Chapel's ceiling was so controversial in its time. It deviated from the norms of religious art that had been more or less common to East and West. He depicted God the Father, and -- hmmm, how to put this -- his nudes were very well executed, artistically speaking. Icons depict nudes too, by the way; but they appear virtually as caricatures.]

Hopefully this is a helpful explanation of our practice. It is not exhaustive, but I’m sure that it raises more questions, too. I’ll try to cover those as the summer and the sabbatical continue.