ICONS


There is a particular hush that gathers around an icon.

It is not the silence of an empty room, nor the silence of a museum where people lower their voices out of politeness. It is a deeper kind of quiet, the kind that seems to be waiting for you before you arrive. Icons do not ask to be admired from a distance. They invite you to stand still.

In Thessaloniki, we visited Agios Demetrios, the church dedicated to the martyr and patron saint of the city. We invited the group to explore the church and spend time with an icon to which they felt drawn. In the Eastern tradition, icons are not merely art. They are sacred windows to the divine. They are not created to impress us, but to reorient us.

Earlier that morning, during group lectio, the word that stayed with me was “God,” from Psalm 46:1–2:

“God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
    though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea.”

I had been holding in prayer dear friends who are living in places of violence and fear: those caught in the firing zones of conflict, those suffering in violent domestic partnerships, and those experiencing violent thoughts within themselves.

When I entered the church, the icon that drew me was the central image of Mary holding Jesus. As I began to focus on Jesus, I started to cry. Could Jesus truly be the stronghold and refuge for those facing so many challenges?

The longer I looked and prayed, the more an assurance of the Spirit washed over me. Deep in my soul, I heard: “I have not forgotten them. I hold them in my love and care.”

God was the only one who could make and keep such a promise. I do not have the power to bring about world peace, to repair every fractured relationship, or to heal the mental anguish of those I love. But I can pray. I can recommit to being present. I can walk alongside others with compassion and care, trusting in the grace of God.

And perhaps that is part of what the icon was teaching me. To stand before Christ is not to be given easy answers. It is to be reminded that love is still present, even where fear has taken hold. It is to remember that those we cannot reach are not beyond the reach of God.

Yes, icons are windows through which the divine may be seen. But they are also thin places where we are met by God. They quietly offer us a way of being looked at by Love, until we learn to look at the world with love in return.


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