“Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons”
by Henri J.M. Nouwen
Book Review by Taylor Brown
Paperback: https://amzn.to/36blGSQ
(Includes 4 high quality tear-out icons)
Kindle: https://amzn.to/3sU5SfU
In the low-church evangelical Protestantism of my youth, images were equated with idols and reverence was considered to be due to God and God alone. The most difficult adjustment I had to make upon my conversion to Orthodoxy pertained to veneration of saints and icons. As a Roman Catholic, Nouwen takes for granted the verdict of the Seventh Ecumenical Council in 787—which officially endorsed the use of icons in prayer and worship—nowhere even acknowledging the controversy that bitterly divided Christians both in the 8th century and again in the present age. Behold the Beauty of the Lord is the personal testimony of a deeply spiritual man whose writings have been cherished by Christians irrespective of denomination.
Introduction
There are many times when I cannot pray, when I am too tired to read the gospels, too restless to have spiritual thoughts, too depressed to find words for God, or too exhausted to do anything. But I can still look at these images so intimately connected with the experience of love. [p. 20]
Nouwen invites us to join him in the ancient Byzantine practice of gazing, praying and meditating before icons “created for the sole purpose of offering access, through the gate of the visible, to the mystery of the invisible” [23].
The Icon of the Holy Trinity:
Living in the House of Love
For much of its history, the Church struggled over the question of how, or even whether God could be depicted. The Old Testament explicitly prohibited graven images. No visual representation was worthy of the Creator of the universe; that is, until God gave Himself visual representation in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. With the confirmation of the aforementioned Seventh Ecumenical Council, the Church universal agreed that God could be depicted through the image of His eternally-begotten Son. Attempts have been made to depict the Father as the Ancient of Days from the Old Testament book of Daniel, but the Council condemned such practices, insisting that the first person of the Trinity remains invisible.
This dilemma was solved to the satisfaction of the Orthodox churches in 1425 [31] when Russian iconographer Andrei Rublev painted an icon of the three angels who visited Abram and Sarai, “The Hospitality of Abraham.” Neither the Father, nor the Spirit, nor even the Son are depicted: the three angels represent the three divine persons. Nouwen describes this icon “not as a lovely decoration for a convent church, not as a helpful explanation of a difficult doctrine, but as a holy place to enter” [32], a gentle invitation to participate in “the circle of love” [33].
Explaining the meaning of the icon, Nouwen describes the angelic appearance as “the prefiguration of the divine mission by which God sends his only Son to sacrifice himself for our sins, and gives us new life through the Spirit” [36].
The tree of Mamre becomes the tree of life, the house of Abraham becomes the dwelling place of God-with-us and the mountain becomes the spiritual heights of prayer and contemplation. … This sacrificial lamb forms the center of the icon. [36]
The Son, in the center, points to it with two fingers, thus indicating his mission to become the sacrificial lamb, human as well as divine, through the Incarnation. [36-37]
The Father, on the left, encourages the Son with a blessing gesture. [37]
And the Spirit, who holds the same staff of authority as the Father and the Son, signifies by pointing to the rectangular opening in the front of the altar that this divine sacrifice is a sacrifice for the salvation of the world. [37]
In summary, the Spirit, whom we meet in prayer, directs us to open space of the altar where Christ’s sacrifice brings us into communion with God in whose house we are invited to dwell.
The Icon of the Virgin of Vladimir:
Belonging to God
Also known as “Our Lady of Tenderness,” this icon of the Virgin was brought from Constantinople to Kiev around 1183 and twenty years later to Vladimir. The stars on her forehead and shoulders represent her perpetual virginity as well as the “divine presence that permeates part of her being” [49]. Her eyes, which reflect her suffering [54], see us as they see Jesus [50]. Her hand (which is in the center of the full icon) is open, gently inviting us to approach her son whom she offers to us [52-55]. The child, Nouwen suggests, “is not an infant.”
He is a wise man dressed in adult clothes. Moreover, the luminous face and golden tunic indicate that this wise man is truly the Word of God. [56]
This light-giving intimacy has not only made the icon a masterpiece in the history of art, but more importantly has drawn countless people into prayerful communion with their Lord. [57]
Nouwen further points out that Jesus is giving himself completely to the Virgin, in an affectionate embrace: “his eyes are fixed on hers with complete attentiveness, and his mouth is close to hers, offering her his divine breath” [58]. This is accentuated by Jesus’ unnaturally large throat, which represents the Holy Spirit. “Spirit means ‘breath.’ The Holy Spirit is the breath of God. It is this divine breath which Jesus offers to humanity” [60].
The Icon of the Savior of Zvenigorod:
Seeing Christ
To see Christ is to see God and all of humanity. This mystery has evoked in me a burning desire to see the face of Jesus. [66]
I have seen in this icon a damaged image, a most tender human face, and eyes that penetrate the heart of God as well as every human heart. [67]
Another fifteenth century icon of Andrei Rublev, “The Peacemaker” was rediscovered in 1918 along with two other damaged icons that miraculously avoided the total destruction suffered by the rest of the iconostasis of the church of Zvenigorod [66-69]. “A sad but still very beautiful face looks at us through the ruins of our world” [68].
Perhaps it is difficult to tell because of the damage, but Nouwen explains how the three-quarter angle of the shoulders and upper chest (in contrast to the face, eyes, nose, and lips which face us) suggest motion, as though Jesus is turning toward us, this signifying his persistent love despite our persistent faithlessness [72].
According to V. N. Lazarev, red is the color of divinity and blue is the color of humanity. Christ is typically painted with a red tunic covered by a blue mantle signifying his divinity that is clothed with humanity [74-75]. Nouwen notes the starkness of the blue in Rublev’s icon, which was perhaps intended to accentuate his humanity [75].
Nouwen next directs us to the penetrating eyes of Jesus, “neither sentimental nor judgmental, neither pious nor harsh, neither sweet nor severe. They are the eyes of God, who sees us in our most hidden pieces and loves us with a divine mercy” [78-79]. The significance of this is that it exemplifies “the great mystery of the Incarnation. We can see God and live! … Jesus is the full revelation of God, ‘the image of the unseen God’ (Col 1:15)” [80].
The Icon of The Descent of the Holy Spirit:
Liberating the World
This icon of Pentecost comes from the Russian Novgorod School of the fifteenth century [89-91]. Modern Pentecostal churches attempt to recreate the charismatic energy of Church’s birthday. But icons are not intended to report the historical nature of people and events; instead, they relate to us the deeper spiritual meaning [91]. “The quietude and peacefulness of the Pentecost icon expresses better than any written text the new life that the Spirit gives” [95].
The twelve rays descending from heaven symbolize “the fullness of the Spirit which the disciples have received” [94]. This accomplishes the creation of an entirely new kind of community, “not built upon mutual compatibility, shared affection, or common interests, but upon having received the same divine breath, … the same divine fire, … the same divine love” [97].
The other noteworthy observation pertains to the regal figure in the darkness:
In the oldest Pentecost icons, the multitudes who came from all directions at the sound of the Spirit (see Acts 2:5) were portrayed at the bottom of the icon. But later icon painters, in order to maintain the solemn quietude of the whole composition, replaced the crowd with one symbolic figure: … “Cosmos” … [who] represents all the peoples living in darkness to whom the light of the apostles’ teaching has been brought. [Which is why he carries the twelve scrolls from the twelve apostles (p. 103)]
“Thus,” concludes Nouwen, “this icon both offers hope for the liberation of the world and encourages us to work for it” [106].
Conclusion
Through the icon of the Holy Trinity, the Spirit directs us to the Son who leads us to the Father. Our Lady of Tenderness exemplifies the righteous response to this invitation. The Savior brings us face to face with God. The Descent of the Holy Spirit calls us to shine God’s light to those in darkness. We see, then, that Nouwen has presented four icons initiating us into the profundity of our life in Christ. What more could we learn from the thousands of other icons inspired men and women have offered us? We have only scratched the surface of the beauty of the Lord.