Icons

The war keeps going—negotiations are breaking down, gas prices (and as a consequence, almost all other prices) continue to rise, our Saturday evening was disrupted with the news that a gunman tried to assassinate the President—and our Sunday morning was interrupted with posts on social media alleging the incident was a false flag. At both home and abroad Americans are killing and dying. Conflict seems to be the very air we breathe.

 

The “prince of this world” appears to be very much in command: all we need to do is flip on CNN to prove it.

There is no escaping the evil that confronts us. Our world is infected (as it has always been) with poverty, bigotry, hatred, violence, and cruelty in our world. Bombarded with images of it all on our televisions and feeds, there is a temptation, I fear, to let all of that overwhelm us, and to forget that there is at the core of all of us a fundamental goodness and decency … and that that goodness can be found at the heart of our society as well.

The infotainment industry of cable news, podcasts, and online newsfeeds does not help. The old maxim “if it bleeds it leads” still holds true, and the cynic in me thinks that in their quest for ratings, our sources of news are perfectly content to pick at the wounds of our country and world: letting them continue to bleed so that their networks and sponsors might continue to rake in revenue. 

And we are letting ourselves get sucked into it. Sites such as WebMD and the University Hospitals outreach services have felt the need to respond to the almost epidemic practice of “doomscrolling,” noting increasing anxiety, worsening depression, and interruption of sleep by those who use their devices to access bad news on social media and go down the rabbit holes such information creates.

St. Francis De Sales, the patron saint of journalists no less, cautioned Christians against reading the news when it got to the point of causing fear, “restlessness,” or leading one to “boil over in anger,” noting the spiritual dangers associated with doing so. 

This from one writing in the early 17th century.

Of course need to be informed of what is going on in the world; we can’t hide our heads in the sand. While we can limit our consumption of news and (perhaps more importantly) commentary, the reality of our fallen world remains. So what is the remedy for the anxiety, fear, and anger brought on by the events and personalities vexing us?

The icon.

Himself exhorting us to “be not afraid” as he was announced as pope, St. John Paul II reminded the faithful that the Church’s Mystical Body “must breathe with her two lungs”—East and West. There is, in the Christian faith coming from the East, a spirituality, embodied in the icon, which I think is especially helpful for us in these difficult and often depressing and anxious times.

Few Orthodox or Byzantine/Ukrainian/Ruthenian/Melkite Catholic homes are without icons: those “windows into heaven” which characterize the Christian East. Meant to be tools of meditation, icons enable us to look into the faces of Jesus, the saints, and the angels who are mystically present in them. They further help us to see that those people lovingly look back at us as well, encouraging and challenging us to live as they lived. In their difficult times. They remind us of our destiny and that the troubles of this world—serious as they may be—are temporary. 

And that we are made for something better … and ever-lasting.

In “writing” an icon, the iconographer begins with a black background and adds increasingly light colors as he or she prayerfully, and often in fasting, helps the image emerge on the surface. The ages-old technique is a reminder that the “light came into the darkness, and the darkness has never been able to overcome it” (Jn 1:5). The result is beautiful and other-worldly. Importantly, the images don’t ignore the darkness, but transform it. The images written on icons look strange to us: oversized eyes, ears, and foreheads coupled with exceptionally slender noses and small mouths render depictions that look like no one we’ve ever seen. They’re not meant to. Offering us on earth a glimpse at our heavenly forbears, icons use physical imagery to represent what people are like as they stand before God: eyes and ears open to the Beatific Vision of God and His Word. Narrow noses to breathe in His aroma and over-sized foreheads to symbolize the wisdom we will have as we ponder God’s greatness as we stand before Him face-to-face. And especially small mouths, because in Heaven there is little to say. We pray with icons by quietly, simply looking into the eyes of those mystically present there and allowing them—with God’s grace—to transform us. Thus praying with icons lets us “be still and know that [God] is God” (Ps. 46:11). It is medicine for us living in a chaotic, uncertain world.

One more point: it is significant that when, at times, evil characters (Satan, his demons, Judas, etc.) are portrayed, they’re always shown in profile. Evil after all, cannot be ignored. Not allowing ourselves to be taken in by what’s wrong in this fallen world does not give us permission to be Pollyannas. But unlike the faces of the good—of Jesus and the saints—we are not to dwell on the evil that’s there: we acknowledge it and work to combat it, but then we focus on what inspires.

Literally what “fills us with the Spirit.”

And as we navigate through the chaos and pain of the world, even if we may not be able to physically pray with one all the time, the spirituality of the icon (and the way of approaching the world it represents) helps us remember our “why” as human beings and as Christians: to live in love with our God and our neighbor.

All the while keeping our focus on the Lord and His saints. Where it should have been all along.

A.M.D.G./B.V.M.H.