Wait, We Have Icons?
Icons are the most mysterious to a Protestant like me and I spent a lot of time learning what icons actually are and what they were used for while researching my D.Min project. (My D.Min project also holds all the blame for my extended silence on this blog!)
How are these images stamped on the candles in the grocery store not idols? (I will not attempt the full theological study of that question in this post…but stay tuned.)
Perhaps the most lovely descriptive explanation of icons comes from Pavel Florensky in Iconostasis. Florensky, an art historian and philosopher who became an Orthodox priest at the turn of the twentieth century, spends dozens of pages describing how an icon is not simply a painting. He describes it in terms of a window:
Thus a window is a window because a region of light opens out beyond it; hence, the window giving us this light is not itself "like" the light, nor is it subjectively linked in our imagination with our ideas of light—but the window is that very light itself, in its ontological self-identity, that very light which, undivided-in-itself and thus inseparable from the sun, is streaming down from the heavens. But the window all by itself—i.e., apart from its relationship to the light, beyond its function as carrier of light—is no longer a window but dead wood and mere glass.
He continues the metaphor, “An icon is therefore always either more than itself in becoming for us an image of a heavenly vision or less than itself in failing to open our consciousness to the world beyond our senses—then it is merely a board with some paint on it.”
This research into icons turned my preconceived ideas of Orthodox art on its head. To read Florensky is to hear about a beloved cloud of witnesses who join us in the work of the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in Heaven. Those who have gone before in faithful service to God’s mission approach the throne of God with us in petition. I was reminded of all the times I have asked friends and family to pray for me or a certain situation. This is what the purpose of icons for the Orthodox church seems to be. Elizabeth Zelensky and Lela Gilbert write in Windows to Heaven:
For the Orthodox, the church is the body of Christ, the sign of God's providential wisdom as manifested here on earth. Since the Christian God is a living God, all believers, whether living or dead, are part of Christ's body.
In the same way we hope to live a life pointing others to God, reflecting Christ with our very lives, so too are icons and the iconpainters.
William Dyrness wrote in his book Visual Faith:
The icon, therefore, was much more than an aesthetic image to grace the church and stimulate holy thoughts. It was something that expressed deeply held theological convictions, and it was meant to move the viewer to love and serve God. In many respects, an icon was theology in visual form.
I came to the realization that we in the Church of Christ, and most Protestant traditions, are asleep to the icons we have created for ourselves. Icons help to prepare one’s heart for worship; to orient one’s spirit and physical presence toward God. Venerating objects and spaces are a part of preparing one’s physical, mental and spiritual being for communion with God.
The rich legacy of faith I received from my family and the Church of Christ with her traditions of simple buildings, felt boards and Bible study formed me into the person I am. I am forever grateful for this heritage and experience. But, if we are unintentional about the ways in which we venerate some spaces or objects we make them into idols.
Those of us familiar with the Church of Christ can likely spot a Church of Christ building from the highway before reading its sign declaring as much. Even though there is no official governing body or overarching set of brand standards, the architecture for those in the Churches of Christ has been an expression, however unconscious, of the particularities of our faith. Many of the churches built in the mid 20th century were built by the Paden Construction Company* simply because of word of mouth from one congregation to another.
Ravenswood Church of Christ, Paden Construction, 1965
In contrast to the detailed records kept by the Catholic Church recalling who the master artists, architects, and patrons were of the multitudes of works created for their houses of worship, the Church of Christ often keep records on an individual congregational level. The Paden brothers' contribution to the Church of Christ heritage is more similar to the unnamed monks who copied scripture and illuminated manuscripts or the anonymous icon painters who reproduced icons. In fact, a brief Google search reveals eight Churches of Christ in seven states that list the Paden Construction Company as having built their building in the 1950s and 1960s. (see the full list in my D.Min paper).
These churches have simple lines, often without a steeple; front doors lead to a lobby, then to the auditorium with classrooms on either side, and very little in the way of decorative architectural elements.
Walking into most Church of Christ buildings you will find pews oriented toward the front of a large room. Up until the overhead projector and PowerPoint became widely used, the backs of the pews had song books and Bibles placed in dedicated shelves. At the front of the room may be a wood table carved with the words “Do This In Remembrance of Me.” Above the table is the pulpit placed in the center of a stage adorned with plants of some kind. Above the pulpit is the baptistry, likely encased in some sort of frame of lights, molding or other simple design elements.
South Edmonton Church of Christ Auditorium
These articles symbolize the theology most important to the church body, shown perhaps in height order of importance: Baptism, Word of the Lord, and the Eucharist (or the Lord’s Supper). These are the icons we venerate in the Churches of Christ.
For me, and many others, seeing the simple building from the highway creates an immediate connection between me and those who attend there. If I were to walk into an auditorium that was not my home church, but was dressed in the way I described, I would immediately be brought into a place of veneration and I would feel at home among the familiar icons. I would even say I would feel close to God. This response is due to my Church of Christ heritage and the strong Church of Christ lineage in my family which, from my infancy, introduced me to God while in these buildings and with these objects. This response is not inappropriate, but the result of a space becoming a place of worship and objects becoming reminders of the one I worship.
The problem arises when we in the Church of Christ tell ourselves we do not have icons or that we do not venerate objects or spaces. We look down on “those Catholics” for all their objects and spaces, while in reality, we do the same. In our attempt to steer clear of idolatry, we have missed the point of the Tabernacle.
How many times have people in a church body gotten upset when a backdrop, lighting design, or other visual element was changed without explanation? What feelings were brought to the surface about the desire to worship with each other in our church buildings during the pandemic? How much strive entrenches our church communities when we can’t explain our deep emotional response to these visual aspects of our worship? Isn’t the body of Christ the church? Why do aesthetics matter so much?
If we can demystify why we as people of the Church of Christ heritage, or other Protestant denominations, feel most at home in our plain church auditoriums and parse out icons versus idols, perhaps we could become more open to the use of visual art in edification and spiritual formation. This is part of what I aim to do in my work and research.
Pavel Aleksandrovič Florensky, Iconostasis, trans. Donald Sheehan and Olga Andrejev (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 2000).
Elizabeth Zelensky and Lela Gilbert, Windows to Heaven: Introducing Icons to Protestants and Catholics (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2005), 128.
William A. Dyrness, Visual Faith: Art, Theology, and Worship in Dialogue (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), 85.
*Special thanks to LaJuana Gill for teaching me about this phenomenon