A good explanation of the theology of icons.
By David Clayton
Do we write or paint icons? Do you have to fast and pray before you create one? Is the saint present in the icon just as Christ is present in the Blessed Sacrament?
In the course of writing and talking about icons, I am often asked about the following: Is it true that an artist doesn’t paint icons, but rather that he ‘writes’ them, because he is portraying an aspect of the Word? Is it true that only Orthodox or religious are holy enough to paint them? Do we have to fast and pray before painting them? And finally, is the person depicted present in an icon in the way that Christ is present in the Blessed Sacrament?
|St Isaias, 21st century, English|
So what does the Church really believe about icons? In short, the answers are as follows:
First, call it painting or writing, (or carving if appropriate), whatever you like. My teacher who is as Orthodox as they come, and a respected authority in the Orthodox world, refers to this pedantic insistence on the word ‘write’ as ‘a bit precious.’ (I am told that this happens because the word for write and paint is the same in Greek.) As he used to point out, if you put a paint brush in paint and apply it to a surface. the English word that accurately describes that process is ‘painting’, regardless of what you are painting.
Second, it is not true that you have to be Orthodox or religious to paint holy icons. Visual art, and this includes sacred art, is as good as it looks. If it looks like an icon then it is an icon. This is true regardless of who painted it and of the medium used (although some media do lend themselves to the portrayal of the essential qualities of icons more than others). Regardless of the method that was used to paint it, there is no right way or wrong way, as long as one gets to the desired result. Having said that, praying regularly with icons, as Orthodox and religious do - in common with many lay people and Catholics - will help to develop in an artist a deeper innate sense of how art nourishes prayer, and will likely improve the quality of the art he paints.
A relief carved depiction of the Magi by Martin Earle, Roman Catholic: martinearle.com
Fourth, in the Catholic belief, although the Saint is made present to us through the image in a profound way which engages our imaginations, and which is analogous, in some ways, to the Real Presence, a Saint is not present in an icon in the same way that Christ is truly present in the Blessed Sacrament.
Some more background
The theology that stipulates that holy images are spiritually necessary to the Faith was established in the 7th Ecumenical Council, with a later clarification by the Synod of Constantinople. Between them, the the edicts of the two councils finally ended in AD 843 a period of destruction of images, the movment called Iconoclasm. This is celebrated today in the Eastern Church as the Feast of the Triumph of Orthodoxy.
The Church Father who expresses this is St Theodore the Studite, abbot of the Studion Monastery in Constantinople. What is ironic is that the error of the iconophiles (those who were in favor of the use of sacred images) of attributing to the icon a presence of the Saint is one of the things to which the iconoclasts objected so strongly that it provoked them to the opposite errors, seeking to eliminate the use of sacred images altogether. Theodore, like the iconoclasts, opposed this error, but he provided an alternative theology that justified the use of sacred images. (Note that we are talking about all sacred images here, regardless of style, and not to the style that we call iconographic today.)
Theodore, abbot of the Studios Monastery, Constantinople.
1. The essence of the Saint is not present in the icon. It is just wood, gold, paint etc. The connection to the Saint is made in our minds, especially through the imagination, when we see the characteristic likeness portrayed. So if the icon is covered up, for example, by metal cladding, it has no sacramental value (unless the cladding has been beaten into a likeness, in which case it is the cladding that evokes the Saint for us). Theodore illustrates this with the point that once the icon becomes damaged so that the likeness is destroyed, it is just thrown away.
2. There are two qualities in particular that makes sacred art worthy of veneration, and therefore appropriate for use in prayer and worship. First, the art must look like what it depicts. In other words there is no place for an abstract portrayal of Passion of Christ. It must, to use Theodore’s phrase, capture the essential characteristics of the person or the scene being depicted. This does not necessarily require an accurate portrait, but it does mean that the things that distinguish a particular person must be present. So for example, the prophet Isaiah has a gray beard and long hair, and is shown with tongs and a hot coal which touched his lips at the beginning of his ministry (Isa. 6, 6-7). Second, the name of the person or the scene (e.g. the Nativity), must be present in a form that will be understood by those who see it; therefore, the vernacular is usually used. The name is present as another essential characteristic of the person.
St John the Baptist, English 21st century
4. The Seventh Ecumenical Council and Theodore’s theology apply just as much to any form of art in which the characteristic likeness appears. Therefore, the view that what we now consider to be the iconographic style - typically that of Russian and Greek icons, in people’s minds - is a higher form than the other sacred art traditions of the Western church such as the Gothic and the Baroque, cannot be justified. English translations of Theodore’s writings do have him using the word “icon”, but in using this word, the translators are leaving untranslated a Greek word which means “image.” Theodore did not refer to specific styles or traditions. Accordingly, his theology applies as much to Gothic and Baroque art (the other two traditions cited by Pope Benedict XVI as authentically liturgical in his book The Spirit of the Liturgy) as it does to the iconographic style; it can also be applied to statues as much as to two-dimensional images.
St John the Baptist, by Guido Reni, Italian, 17th century. This would need a plaque on the frame with his name in order for this painting to be worthy of veneration.
Giotto, Italian, 14th century, gothic. Again we would need to see the name of the event - The Baptism in the Jordan - and ideally the names of the main figures in order for this to be worthy of veneration.
When we talk of icons today, we are usually referring to a style of art that, generally, speaking includes all Christian art, East and West, from about the 5th century AD up to about 1200AD. This includes, therefore, many Western variants in the styles of the Romanesque, Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, Ottonian and Carolingian periods. With some interruption and variance, the iconographic style has remained the dominant form in the Eastern Churches, with variant styles such as those of the Coptic, Greek, Russian, and Melkites traditions.
St Matthew, The Lindisfarne Gospel, English, 8th century. Consistent with the iconographic prototype, in a style called insular art which combines Mediterranean, Anglo-Saxon and Celtic elements.
Eastern Rite Catholics legitimately and reasonably insist that the only form of sacred art that is appropriate for the Eastern Rite is the icon, and this might affect their choice of image for an icon corner in their homes. But it is just as legitimate for Roman Catholics look to their authentic liturgical traditions (which includes the iconographic as well as the Gothic and the Baroque), and consider them appropriate for the Roman Rite, and for use their own home.
To read an account of the theology of icons of Theodore the Studite, his works are still available. For an excellent summary of the whole debate regarding sacred art, which includes an account of the theology of images developed by both Theodore and St John of Damascus, I recommend God’s Human Face by Cardinal Cristophe Schoenborn, published by Ignatius Press.