The Universe of Icons, a Window onto the Invisible

The genesis of icons is traced back nearly 1500 years to the Sinai desert in Egypt, specifically at the foot of the mountain where the Prophet Moses encountered the God of the Hebrews, marking the beginning of monotheism. Saint Catherine's Monastery, continuously inhabited since the 3rd or 4th century, houses some of the world's most ancient icons. The local Bedouin tribe, the Dhebeia, descendants of Byzantine soldiers sent to protect the site, maintain a long historical connection to the monastery. Father Justin, an American-born librarian monk, oversees one of Orthodoxy's most precious collections of icons and ancient manuscripts within this historical sanctuary, which has never been destroyed or abandoned.

The term 'icon' originates from the Greek word 'eikōn,' meaning image. Within the Christian context, this word designates a consecrated religious image dedicated to depicting Christ, the Virgin Mary, angels, or saints. Icons function as the Church's visual language, utilized across mediums such as mosaics, frescoes, or wooden panels, to articulate fundamental dogmas. Many abstract concepts within Christianity have found their visual translation in these images, offering a remarkable way to perceive truths otherwise difficult to grasp.

One cannot look directly at the sun without burning the eyes, but when observing the sun's reflection on water, the original image that ordinary human eyes cannot perceive is reproduced.

The very first icons are referred to as 'akiropoieta,' meaning 'not made by human hands' in Greek, works perceived as miraculous or divinely originated by believers. A prime example is the image of the Holy Face, believed to be the imprint of Christ himself upon the Mandylion cloth, which the Christ allegedly sent to King Abgar of Edessa for healing. This miraculous imprint serves as the prototype for all icon painting, especially prominent in Russia, where depictions often feature the Mandylion above a crucifixion scene, justifying the icon's sacred origin.

The ancient icons at Saint Catherine's Monastery reveal a connection to the pictorial techniques of Antiquity, suggesting the existence of mobile devotional images as early as the 4th century. This lineage is visible in funerary portraits, particularly those from Faiyum, Egypt, dating from the 1st to the 4th centuries AD, which featured painted portraits on tombs during the late Greco-Roman period. Furthermore, the Roman world cultivated a cult of the image centered on the Emperor, celebrated through statues and painted portraits, all of which likely inspired early Christian image veneration.

The theology surrounding the icon was fundamentally born during the Iconoclast crisis that afflicted the Byzantine Empire during the 8th and 9th centuries. During this tumultuous period, Christian emperors prohibited the veneration of both icons and relics, perceiving the intense devotion shown to these images as approaching idolatry. This crisis led to widespread destruction of images and the persecution of those who defended them. The ancient technique of encaustic painting, so difficult to master, was largely lost during this time, leaving the Sinai icons as rare testaments to pre-Iconoclasm Byzantine art.

Defenders of the icon ultimately prevailed by relying on the theology of the holy image, significantly developed by the monk John of Damascus. This victory is celebrated annually through the Great Feast of the Triumph of Orthodoxy, held six weeks before Orthodox Easter. This ceremony draws fervent crowds, such as those seen in the Greek Cathedral of Saint-Stephen in Paris, where the faithful venerate precious church icons and have their personal family icons blessed.

The Orthodox Cathedral in Paris welcomes a diverse community, including Greeks, Lebanese, Georgians, Iraqis, Moldovans, and Ukrainians, using archaic Greek and Old Slavonic alongside Arabic, Aramaic, or Russian chants, highlighting Orthodoxy's multiple origins. The presence of the Archbishop of Paris underscores ecumenical links developing a millennium after the Great Schism of 1054. For well-informed Catholics, the icon serves as a comparative element against Catholic religious imagery, often revealing a superior theological and liturgical density within the Orthodox tradition.

The very earliest icons, those predating the iconoclastic dispute, found refuge in the desert of Sinai. Some may have been painted in Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, and sent to Saint Catherine's by Emperor Justinian himself, who founded the monastery. Among these foundational works is the magnificent 6th-century Christ Pantocrator, which established the archetypal image of Christ for Eastern Christian art.

Paradoxically, the survival of these icons from the destructive rage of Byzantium during the Iconoclast phase is owed to the rise of Islam. While the Emperor was effective in destroying icons in Constantinople, Sinai and Jerusalem were already occupied by the Arabs, placing them beyond the Emperor's reach. This geographical separation ensured the preservation of icons predating Iconoclasm, which then served as the basis for the tradition of 'akiropoieta' painting afterward.

The tradition of icon painting establishes that the painter invents nothing; rather, the artist reproduces an ancient prototype, repeating an image that carries an inherent truth. This silent language of symbols and signs centers initially on Christ Pantocrator, meaning 'All-Powerful.' This concept is expressed through the pervasive light radiating from the face, which leaves no shadow areas, signifying eternal divine power.

These agiographic icons flourished during the medieval period, found in Saint Catherine's, Mount Athos monasteries, and later in Russia. The enduring presence of these works testifies to the rare survival of the encaustic technique, a wax-based painting method lost for centuries. While the art form spread widely, its earliest expressions remain preserved in these specific, protected monastic environments.

The Mount Athos peninsula in Northern Greece serves as the epicenter of Orthodox tradition, hosting approximately 3000 monks who live in near isolation, accessible only by boat after obtaining a special visa for the semi-autonomous monastic republic. This area features twenty grand monasteries boasting spectacular medieval architecture, each affiliated with a different Orthodox nation, such as the massive Russian St. Panteleimon monastery. Beyond the main complexes, some monks live as hermits in the cliffs facing the Aegean Sea, maintaining traditions in remote sketes like the Skete of Father Patapios.

Father Patapios, a Greek monk living in solitude for 37 years, was joined by a second hermit from Romania. Patapios, who was married before taking monastic vows after retirement, now works and lives in near self-sufficiency, relying partly on selling icons he paints. He humbly describes himself as a modest hagiographer dedicated to studying the absolute norms of Byzantine art, viewing his painting process as a form of prayer.

I am not an excellent hagiographer; I am a modest hagiographer who loves art and studies the absolute norms of Byzantine art. I see this also as a prayer because I think five hours a day and I pray; this is not foreign to my monastic life as long as I paint.

Father Patapios employs techniques unchanged for centuries. The process begins with preparing the wooden panel, which requires extensive treatment before painting. The surface preparation involves applying a cloth with resin and then three different materials. This rigorous, multi-layered preparation ensures the wood surface is ready to receive the image, adhering to strict historical standards.

The representation of sacred figures is codified from the origins according to a specific aesthetic. This repetition of stylistic codes preserves an anti-naturalistic approach, lending the image a universal theological significance as a receptacle of truth. For instance, figures are always depicted frontally, with bodies stripped of temporal weaknesses. A challenging rule arises when depicting recently deceased saints, as seen with Father Patapios's portrait of the late monk Guerassimos, who wore glasses—a detail avoided because saints should not be painted exactly as they are in life.

The stylized depiction of saints, always facing forward with bodies devoid of temporal frailties, is a core rule. When painting the recently beatified monk Guerassimos, who wore glasses, Father Patapios chose to omit them. Those who knew Guerassimos noted the portrait lacked resemblance because the painter ignored the glasses, adhering to the theological imperative not to depict saints with worldly imperfections like eyewear.

From Mount Athos, the art of the icon radiated throughout the Greco-Byzantine world, gaining significant momentum in Europe after the conversion of Slavic peoples to Orthodoxy in the 10th century, led by Prince Vladimir of Kyiv. The Kyiv Caves Monastery remains the historical cradle of Slavic Orthodox Christianity, shared by Russians and Ukrainians. Despite the ongoing conflict since 2022, the spiritual universe of the icon persists. The icon is recognized as an artwork due to its beauty, yet it primarily functions as a spiritual vector enabling access to the afterlife.

The icon is first and foremost a work of art because it is beautiful, but it also possesses a spiritual dimension, serving above all as a vector allowing access to the beyond.

A miraculous dimension often causes friction with Catholic perceptions: many Orthodox believers are convinced their icons weep because they view the image as a living entity capable of sharing human suffering. In Ukraine, icons are reported to shed tears of blood reflecting the nation's suffering under the 2022 Russian invasion. The sacred caves of the Great Lavra in Kyiv, historical cradles of Russo-Ukrainian Christianity, have once again become havens against wartime violence.

The surface church at the Kyiv Caves Monastery has been destroyed multiple times, yet its primary purpose remains prayer, established when the first monk, Saint Anthony, dug the initial cave to replicate his home environment for devotion. During the Soviet era, buildings were nationalized, housing institutions like the National Academy of Painting, where Aliona works as both a lay and icon painter. She notes that icon painting requires significant time, as the art form does not tolerate speed, demanding a different spiritual sphere.

Aliona observes that the tradition of mural frescoes in cities like Kyiv represents a secular continuation of the communication effort initiated by the icon. The symbolism found in these large paintings dates back to eras when literacy was low. For example, a fresco depicting a Ukrainian Cossack fighting tyranny contains symbols like the skull (symbol of death) placed inside the Cossack's hat, illustrating how the imaginary and tradition of the Cossacks permeate Ukrainian society.

Veneration involves physical gestures like bowing, signing oneself, and kissing the image; however, the focus remains on worshipping the prototype—the divine person represented—not the object itself, distinguishing it from pagan adoration of cult statues. In Chernihiv, believers often mix photos of recently deceased family members with icons of saints, using the image as a means to communicate with their departed loved ones, recognizing that something profound resides behind the visible representation.

In Russia, around Moscow, monasteries like the Trinity St. Sergius preserve the memory of iconic painters like Andrei Rublev, a rare medieval iconographer whose name survived. Although icons are typically unsigned because the painter is merely a vector between the faithful and the divine, Rublev is highly revered and was canonized. His most famous work, the Trinity, depicts three angels around a table, symbolizing the one God in three persons, emphasizing unity through the golden nimbus surrounding the scene.

Rublev’s work employs inverted perspective, where architectural lines move toward the spectator, a theological interpretation signifying that the transcendent 'beyond' comes toward humanity. This influence is visible throughout the Trinity St. Sergius complex, particularly in the iconostasis separating the clergy and the faithful. During the Soviet era, many monasteries, including Solovetski (turned into a Gulag), were nationalized, yet a thin thread of tradition persisted, allowing the icon school to resurrect after the collapse of the USSR in 1991.

In Poland, a Slavic yet Catholic nation, the icon served as a vector for emancipation against the Kremlin's influence well before the Soviet collapse. In 1979, the Polish Pope John Paul II utilized the icon of the Black Madonna of Czestochowa as a national symbol, reviving the grand national pilgrimage held in its honor. This pilgrimage attracts hundreds of thousands annually, often involving arduous walks of hundreds of kilometers to reach the fortified Jasna Góra Monastery, where the icon resides under the care of Catholic Paulinian monks.

For many pilgrims, the experience profoundly impacts their life choices. One nun stated that her vocation was directly inspired by the pilgrimage, feeling pushed by the Mother of God to enter the convent. The pilgrimage itself involves immense physical effort, with participants carrying tents and setting them up in local gardens, as the community warmly welcomes them along the route.

The image of the Virgin and Child is central, often appearing as the 'Virgin of Tenderness' (Glykophilousa). In these depictions, three stars on her shoulders and forehead signify perpetual virginity. While the Mother leans tenderly toward the infant, her gaze is veiled with concern, anticipating the suffering on the cross. The child Jesus typically extends only two fingers, again confirming his dual nature.

The Czestochowa icon belongs to the Hodegetria type, where Mary directs the viewer toward the Child. It is recognizable by its dark complexion, likely oxidized over centuries, and two long slashes across the right cheek, inflicted by 15th-century pillagers during the religious conflicts between Protestants and Catholics. These marks resemble large tears, often interpreted as sadness, though some argue the expression is one of concern rather than grief.

The Mother of God notes that her son is not venerated as he should be. Many no longer adore him, do not see him as our Savior, and reject him.

The veneration is directed toward the Virgin Mary through the icon, which is credited with numerous miracles, including healings and miraculous pregnancies. One couple shared testimony of having four healthy children despite doctors deeming conception nearly impossible due to severe serological issues. A researcher in pharmacy, Adam, reconciles his Cartesian scientific thought with this faith, viewing events unexplained by science as miracles obtained through Mary's intercession, underscoring the icon's role in Polish identity and hope.

At dusk, crowds press before the original icon of Czestochowa, whose features are largely obscured by a carapace of gold and silver plating. Such unparalleled admiration, drawing countless gazes, chants, and prayers, is rarely afforded to other pictorial works. The icon remains seemingly motionless and silent, yet it perpetuates its message across centuries, dogmas, and languages, ultimately serving as a window opening onto the invisible realm for those who observe it closely.