American Association of Iconographers

Feast of the Archangels

Michael, Gabriel and Raphael

The Feast of the Archangels is celebrated annually on September 29, honoring three of the archangels named in Scripture: Saint Michael, Saint Gabriel, and Saint Raphael. Through these three great heavenly messengers, the Church invites us to turn our attention toward the spiritual world—a reality that is always present, even though it is ordinarily invisible to our physical eyes.

Mary Between Archangels, Apse Mosaic 7th century Panhagia Angeloktistos, Chiti

For iconographers, this feast offers a particularly rich opportunity for reflection. Icons do not simply illustrate stories about angels and saints. They remind us that the spiritual world is real and that God’s grace is continually at work in creation. The icon becomes a meeting place between the visible and invisible, inviting us to look beyond what can be seen with our physical eyes.

The Archangels are created spiritual beings, endowed by God with intelligence, wisdom, and power. They were created to know, love, and serve God and to participate in His work. At times, God sends His angels as messengers, protectors, guides, and helpers to humanity. Scripture also shows them participating in God’s work of judgment, deliverance, healing, and the proclamation of His will.

The three Archangels traditionally associated with September 29 each reveal something different about God’s action in the world: Michael defends, Gabriel announces, and Raphael heals.

Archangel Michael, detail from Joshua and the Angel, 10th century

Saint Michael: “Who Is Like God?”

The name Michael means “Who is like God?” It is itself a declaration of God’s incomparable greatness. St. Michael is portrayed in Scripture as a warrior and defender and in the Book of Revelation, we read of a battle in heaven:

“Then war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon.”
—Revelation 12:7

Archangel Michael and his angels overcome the dragon, identified with Satan, and cast him out. Michael therefore comes to be especially associated with the defense of God’s people and the defeat of evil.

Archangel Michael Apocalyptic Christine Hales 2025

The iconographic tradition frequently depicts Michael with a sword, spear, or staff, standing over the defeated dragon or serpent. Yet the purpose of this imagery is not simply to portray a warrior. The deeper theological meaning is that evil does not have the final word. Michael’s very name points us back to the source of his strength: Who is like God?

For the iconographer, this is important. The power depicted in an icon of Michael is not the power of the angel independent of God. The strength and power of the archangels comes directly from God and from their obedience to and participation in God’s will.

Archangel Michael, Battle Ready Christine Hales 2024

St. Michael’s icon therefore points beyond St, Michael himself. His raised sword becomes an image of divine justice, courage, and the victory of God’s order over the forces that seek to distort and destroy it.

When we write an icon of Saint Michael, we might ask ourselves: What does it mean to stand faithfully in the presence of God? What does it mean to resist evil not through our own strength, but through obedience and in humble service to God?

Saint Gabriel: “God Is My Strength”

The name Gabriel is traditionally understood as meaning “God is my strength” or “Strength of God.” Gabriel is perhaps the most recognizable of the archangels because of his role as God’s messenger in the Gospel of Luke.

Archangel Gabriel Mid 11th Century Hagia Sophia

Gabriel first appears to Zechariah, announcing the birth of John the Baptist. Later, he is sent to Mary with the announcement that she will become the mother of the Savior.

The words of Gabriel’s message to Mary are among the most familiar in all of Scripture:

“Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!”
—Luke 1:28 Gabriel continues: “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus.”
—Luke 1:30–31

Here the Archangel becomes the bearer of the most extraordinary message ever entrusted to an angel: God is taking human form through the Holy Spirit and Mary’s obedience to God’s will.This makes Gabriel particularly significant for iconographers. He stands at the threshold between the invisible and visible worlds, carrying God’s word into human history.

In icons of the Annunciation, Gabriel’s gesture, posture, and movement are therefore important. He is not merely delivering information. He is announcing the beginning of the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation.

Mary’s response is equally important: “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”
—Luke 1:38

The Annunciation reveals a profound relationship between divine initiative and human response. God speaks; Mary listens. God gives; Mary receives. The Word is announced, and through Mary’s yes, the Word becomes flesh.

Angel of the Annunciation, 12th century, Kurbinovo

For the iconographer, Gabriel therefore points toward the mystery of receptivity. The iconographer, too, is called to listen—to Scripture, to the tradition of the Church, and to the movement of the Holy Spirit—and to respond faithfully.

Saint Raphael: “God Heals”

Archangel Raphael by Christine Hales — Archangel Raphael, written by Christine Hales 2008

The name Raphael means “God heals.” Unlike Michael and Gabriel, Raphael’s story is found primarily in the Book of Tobit, where he accompanies the young Tobias on his journey where he encounters a fish that brings healing, and healing of a woman oppressed by the sudden deat of seven husbands, one after another..

Raphael does not initially appear to Tobias as a glorious heavenly being. Instead, he takes the appearance of a human traveling companion and accompanies Tobias on his journey. Along the way, Raphael protects and guides him and assists him in overcoming the spiritual and physical dangers that threaten his family.

Perhaps Raphael’s most important role is revealed through the healing of Tobit, Tobias’s father, who has been blind. Raphael instructs Tobias in the use of the fish’s gall, through which Tobit’s sight is restored.

Archangel Raphael written by Christine Hales

At the conclusion of the story, Raphael reveals his true identity:

“I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who stand in the glorious presence of the Lord.”
—Tobit 12:15

Raphael’s story reminds us that God’s healing often comes through a journey. There may be fear, uncertainty, suffering, and obstacles along the way, yet God does not abandon His people. For this reason, Raphael became associated with healing, travelers, physicians, and those who care for the sick. His iconography often includes the young Tobias and the fish, connecting the image directly to the story in Tobit.

For iconographers, Raphael offers another important meditation: God’s grace is often present even when it is not immediately recognized. Tobias does not initially understand that his traveling companion is an angel. The divine presence is hidden within an ordinary-looking journey.

Holy Trinity detail Christine Hales — Holy Trinity written by Christine Hales

The Angels and the Icon

What does all of this have to do with iconography? Perhaps more than we sometimes realize. Modern life can easily train us to think that only what can be measured, photographed, or physically experienced is real. Icons challenge this assumption. They open a window toward a reality that cannot be reduced to the material world.

When we write an icon of an angel, we are not attempting to create a realistic portrait of a creature whose physical appearance we have observed. Angels are spiritual beings. Their depiction is therefore symbolic and theological. The wings, garments, gestures, colors, attributes, and inscriptions all participate in communicating something about their heavenly identity and mission.

The icon makes visible something that is ordinarily invisible.

This is one of the great gifts of sacred art. Icons help us break the habit of underestimating the spiritual world. They place before us the saints and angels whose lives have been transformed through their participation in God’s grace.

The Archangels, in particular, remind us that God’s creation is far larger than what our physical senses perceive. Michael reminds us of God’s victory and protection. Gabriel reminds us of God’s Word and His call. Raphael reminds us of God’s healing presence and guidance.

And all three remind us that the angels do not draw attention to themselves. Their purpose is ultimately to glorify God and to serve His purposes. The Archangels and the Iconographer

There is also something here for those of us who write icons. Icon writing requires patience, humility, attention, and prayer. We begin with materials that seem ordinary: wood, gesso, pigments, egg, gold. Layer by layer, the image emerges.

In much the same way, the stories of the Archangels invite us to look beneath appearances. Saint Michael teaches us courage and fidelity. Saint Gabriel teaches us listening and obedience. Raphael teaches us trust in God’s presence along the journey. Perhaps these are qualities that every iconographer needs.

Small Archangel written by Christine Hales

We are not simply producing beautiful religious objects. We are participating in a tradition whose purpose is to turn the human person toward God. The iconographer’s task is therefore one of service. Like the angels, we are called to point beyond ourselves.

An icon of St.Michael should ultimately lead us toward God, who alone is victorious. An icon of Gabriel should lead us toward Christ, the Word who became flesh. An icon of Raphael should lead us toward the God who heals and accompanies us.

The Feast of the Archangels is therefore more than a celebration of three extraordinary heavenly beings. It is an invitation to remember that heaven and earth are not separated as completely as we often imagine. God’s creation is filled with His presence, and His heavenly messengers continually serve His purposes.

As iconographers, perhaps we can allow this feast to deepen our own practice. As we prepare the board, draw the image, lay the gold, and build the forms with successive layers of color, we can remember that we are working at the boundary between the visible and invisible.

Blessings Angel Written by Christine Hales

And we can ask the Archangels to accompany us:

Saint Michael, defend us and help us stand faithfully in the truth of God.

Saint Gabriel, help us hear God’s Word and respond with Mary’s humility and obedience.

Saint Raphael, accompany us on our journeys and intercede for healing in body, mind, and spirit.

May the Archangels help us to remember that all our gifts—including the gift of iconography—are ultimately given for one purpose: to know, love, and glorify God.

Blessings to each of you, until next month,

Christine Hales

My Links:

LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

https://newchristianicions.com my main website
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com
My Patreon Site: https://christinehalesfineart.com

John the Baptist: The Iconographer’s Forerunner

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” — John 3:30

There are few saints whose lives speak so directly to the vocation of the iconographer as Saint John the Baptist.

John the Baptist (ortodox icon Rublev museum, 15^th century

The icon does not exist to arouse emotion for emotion’s sake, nor does it seek to impress the viewer with the personality or skill of the artist. Rather, the icon seeks to direct the whole person—emotion, intellect, imagination, and spirit—toward transfiguration. It points beyond itself to the reality it represents.

In this, Saint John the Baptist becomes a profound model for those of us who write icons. His entire life was oriented toward one purpose: to prepare the way for Christ and to point others toward Him.

John never sought to become the light. He came as a witness to the Light.

And perhaps this is one of the deepest lessons of iconography: the iconographer is not the destination. We are called to become witnesses.

The Forerunner

The story of John begins before his birth.

In the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel, the Archangel Gabriel appears to Zechariah, a priest serving in the Temple, and announces that his wife Elizabeth, who had been unable to have children, would bear a son. He would be named John, and his vocation would be extraordinary:

“He will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God.”

**John the Baptist (15th c., Rublev museum).jpg**

Six months later, Gabriel appears to the Virgin Mary and announces that she will conceive Jesus, the Son of the Most High. When Mary wonders how this can be, Gabriel tells her that Elizabeth has also conceived a son, concluding with the words:

“For nothing will be impossible with God.”

Mary immediately goes to Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth hears Mary’s greeting, the child in her womb leaps for joy. Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit and recognizes the mystery unfolding before her: Mary is carrying “the mother of my Lord.”

Even before his birth, John is already fulfilling his vocation. He recognizes Christ before he can see Him. This is a beautiful image for the iconographer.

Russian – Great Deesis with Prophets -16^th century

The iconographer, too, is called to learn to recognize Christ—not merely as an historical figure, but as the living Lord. Before we can point others toward Him through our work, we must continually learn to perceive Him ourselves. John’s first response to Christ is not words, but movement: he leaps toward Him.

Hidden in the Wilderness

After John’s birth, Luke tells us: “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day of his manifestation to Israel.”

John’s life contains a long period of hiddenness.

Like Christ Himself, John spends years away from public attention before beginning his ministry. When he finally appears, he emerges from the wilderness as a prophetic voice calling the people to repentance:

“Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”

This wilderness is not merely a geographical place. It is also a spiritual image.

For the iconographer, there must be a wilderness—a place of silence, prayer, study, discipline, and hidden preparation. Much of the work of iconography happens where no one sees it: preparing the board, transferring the drawing, grinding pigments, laying bole, gilding, mixing egg tempera, correcting mistakes, and patiently building layer upon layer.

There is nothing glamorous about this hidden work. And yet, it is precisely here that the iconographer is formed.

John the Baptist, Modern Icon, Christine Hales

John’s authority did not come from self-promotion. It came from a life formed in the wilderness and surrendered to God.

“I Am Not the Christ”

When John begins preaching, people wonder whether he might be the Messiah. John is emphatic: he is not. When asked who he is, he identifies himself simply as: “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’” This is essential to understanding John—and essential to understanding the icon.

John does not call attention to himself. His entire identity is relational. He exists in order to announce the One who is coming. The iconographer faces the same temptation that every artist faces: the desire to be seen, admired, recognized, and praised. But sacred art asks something different of us.

The iconographer must continually ask: Does this work point beyond me? Does my drawing serve the subject?

Does my color serve the theology?

Does my technique serve prayer?

Does the icon invite the viewer toward Christ, or does it draw attention to the artist?

John gives us the answer:

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” These words could almost serve as a rule of life for the iconographer.

The Voice and the Word

“Make Straight the Way of the Lord” Modern Icon written by Christine Hales

John’s Gospel gives us another profound distinction: John “was not the light,” but came “to bear witness to the light.” The distinction is crucial. John is a voice. Christ is the Word. John is the witness. Christ is the Light. John prepares the way. Christ is the Way.

The icon participates in this same mystery. It is not God Himself, nor is it merely an illustration about God. It is a visible witness to an invisible reality.

Because of the Incarnation, the invisible God has made Himself visible in Christ. The iconographer works within this mystery of visibility: pigment, line, gold, wood, and form become instruments through which the Church proclaims the reality of the Incarnate Word.

The icon, like John, says: Look beyond me.

The purpose of the icon is not to make us feel something merely for the sake of feeling, but to draw us beyond ourselves—to open our hearts and minds to the presence of God.

Are we pointing toward Christ?

The iconographer has a sacred responsibility. We study the Scriptures. We study the saints. We study the prototypes and the tradition. We learn the materials and techniques. We practice drawing and color. We labor to understand the theological language of the icon.

But all of this is ultimately ordered toward one thing:

Communion with God.

The icon can become a means through which the viewer encounters the mystery of divine love. Through the saints, we are shown what transfigured humanity can look like. Through Christ, we are shown the source of that transformation.

May every icon we write become, in some small way, a voice crying in the wilderness—a witness to the Light, preparing the way for another to encounter Christ.

May God continue to bless the work of your hands! Please keep my work and ministry in your prayers, as you are in mine!

God bless each and every one of you!

Christine Simoneau Hales, Iconographer

My Internet links:

LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

https://newchristianicions.com My main website with lots of info and my teaching schedule for 2027
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com My online, self paced, pre-recorded icon writing classes that I recorded during covid. A great resource to keep you connected to icon writing!
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel. Please subscribe or hit the like button if you like the videos!
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

Nun Juliana Sokolova

Faithful Iconographer in an Age of Persecution

Throughout the history of iconography, there are artists whose lives remind us that writing icons is far more than mastering technique—it is an act of faithfulness. One such witness is Mother Juliana (Maria Nikolaevna Sokolova, 1899–1981), one of the most revered iconographers of the Russian Orthodox Church.

Living through some of the darkest years of Soviet persecution, Mother Juliana remained steadfast in her sacred vocation. While churches were closed, monasteries destroyed, and religious life driven underground, she continued to preserve and create holy icons, embodying the Orthodox understanding that iconography is both prayer and divine revelation.

Our Lady of the Sign drawing by Nun Juliana

Learning from the Ancient Masters

During 1928–1929, at a time when religious art was being suppressed, Maria Sokolova devoted herself to copying the ancient icons and frescoes of Vologda, Pskov, and Novgorod. These years of careful study immersed her in the visual language of the great iconographic tradition and helped preserve works that might otherwise have been lost.

She was the goddaughter of the priest-martyrs Saint Alexei Mechev and Sergii Mechev, and studied icon painting under the renowned restorer Vasily Osipovich Kirikov. Her artistic formation was deeply rooted in both spiritual guidance and careful apprenticeship.

Mother Juliana developed a particular love for the fifteenth-century Moscow school of icon painting. Rather than simply copying historical works, she absorbed their theological vision, allowing their harmony, restraint, and spiritual depth to shape her own icons.

Madonna and Child Drawing by Mother Juliana

A Hidden Monastic Vocation

By 1932, she had become a spiritual guide within her community. Although she had long embraced the monastic life inwardly, she secretly took her monastic vows in 1970, receiving the name Juliana. Her hidden vocation reflected the reality faced by countless Orthodox Christians who practiced their faith quietly under Soviet rule.Throughout these difficult decades, icons were often regarded by the state merely as medieval artifacts or museum pieces rather than living expressions of the Church’s worship. Yet Mother Juliana never lost sight of their true purpose. For her, icons were windows into the Kingdom of God, created for prayer and communion with Christ.

Restoring the Spiritual Heart of Russia

During the Second World War, government pressure on the Church eased somewhat, allowing the reopening of the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius. Mother Juliana was invited to assist in the restoration of this great monastery.

There she painted numerous icons for bishops and patriarchs, completed iconostases, and created icons of individual saints for monastery chapels. Her work helped restore not only damaged churches but also the spiritual life of a nation emerging from years of persecution.Among her favorite subjects were the Russian saints, especially large assemblies of holy men and women who had shaped the spiritual history of Holy Rus’. Her icons radiate tranquility, prayerfulness, humility, and remarkable spiritual endurance—qualities that reflected her own life

Preserving a Living Tradition

Mother Juliana’s legacy extends far beyond the icons she painted. She became a trusted teacher and mentor, encouraging artists and restorers from across Russia to rediscover the ancient traditions of iconography. As religious life slowly revived in the later Soviet period, many sought her wisdom and guidance.Her most significant icons, frescoes, and preparatory drawings were later restored and exhibited in the 2010 exhibition Blessed Work at the Andrei Rublev Museum, offering a new generation the opportunity to appreciate both her artistic excellence and her unwavering faith.

water color, or colored pencil sketch of Apostle by Mother Juliana

A Lesson for Today’s Iconographers

Mother Juliana’s life offers an important lesson for contemporary iconographers. She reminds us that the true calling of the iconographer is not merely to preserve an artistic style but to preserve a living tradition of prayer. Her faithfulness during years of oppression demonstrates that iconography flourishes not because of favorable circumstances but because of hearts devoted to Christ.

Today we are witnessing a remarkable revival of icon writing throughout the world. Christians of every age are discovering the spiritual discipline of writing icons, and many are beginning to understand their profound theological significance. In many ways, this modern renewal is part of the rich harvest planted by faithful servants like Mother Juliana.

Her life encourages us to approach every icon board with humility, patience, prayer, and love, trusting that each icon we write becomes another witness to the enduring presence of Christ in His Church.

This post is part of a series of articles on “Lessons for Iconographers”. From Nun Juliana we can learn:

Study the masters deeply. She spent years copying ancient icons before developing her own hand.
Technique serves prayer. Her icons were born from an ascetic life, not merely artistic skill.
Remain faithful in every season. She continued her vocation even when iconography was discouraged and dangerous.
Preserve tradition while serving the living Church. Ancient forms became living witnesses through her work.
Teach the next generation. Her greatest legacy may not have been the icons she painted, but the iconographers she inspired.

Below are links to some of the sources I used for this article. As you enjoy your summer, I hope this keeps you inspired!

Blessings and prayers, and please keep me and my work in your prayers!

Christine Hales

My Icon Website

Mother Juliana Links:

Icon Book

One of My Earlier Posts About Nun Juliana and Drawing for Icons

Blog about Nun Juliana

History of Icons book- excellent resource!

Hildegard of Bingen: A Mystic’s Vision for the Iconographer

The Middle Ages was perhaps the last period in the West to possess a truly living cosmology—a worldview in which mysticism, theology, nature, and everyday life were understood as an inseparable whole. Rather than seeing creation as something separate from God, medieval mystics lived within the conviction that all things exist in God, and God is present in all things.

As iconographers, this is precisely the vision we seek to recover. Every icon proclaims that the material world is capable of revealing the Divine. Wood, pigment, gold, and light become vehicles of grace because the Incarnation forever united heaven and earth.

Among the great mystics who embodied this vision, one stands out as an extraordinary source of inspiration: Hildegard of Bingen (1098–1179).

A Woman of Astonishing Gifts

Hildegard of Bingen was a Benedictine abbess, visionary, theologian, composer, scientist, physician, botanist, poet, artist, and philosopher. Few people in history have excelled in so many disciplines. Her remarkable intellect and creativity earned her the title “The Sibyl of the Rhine.”

Born in 1098 in present-day Germany, Hildegard was the tenth child of a noble family. Following the custom of the time, she was dedicated to the Church as a child and entered a Benedictine monastery, taking her vows at the age of fifteen. Within the monastery she received an exceptional education and devoted her life to prayer, study, and the service of God.

From childhood she experienced powerful visions that she understood to be revelations from God. Initially reluctant to speak publicly about them, she eventually believed she had been commanded to write them down. Because women were rarely granted authority to teach theology during the twelfth century, Hildegard sought—and received—papal approval to publish her writings and even to preach publicly.

She later founded her own convent at Rupertsberg near Bingen, where she continued to write, teach, compose music, correspond with emperors, bishops, abbots, and popes, and care for those seeking spiritual and physical healing.

A Universal Scholar

Hildegard’s accomplishments remain astonishing nearly nine centuries later.

In theology, she wrote visionary masterpieces including Scivias (“Know the Ways of the Lord”), richly illustrated with symbolic images that communicate profound spiritual truths. These visionary illuminations continue to inspire artists and theologians alike.

In music, she composed more than seventy liturgical songs whose soaring melodies expanded the musical vocabulary of the medieval Church. Her works are still performed and recorded throughout the world.

As a physician and botanist, Hildegard authored treatises describing the healing properties of more than two hundred plants while exploring the causes and treatment of illness through a holistic understanding of body, mind, and spirit.

Her curiosity even extended to linguistics. She created an entirely original language, the Lingua Ignota (“Unknown Language”), complete with its own alphabet and vocabulary—one of history’s earliest constructed languages.

Her achievements across theology, science, medicine, music, literature, and art established her as one of the great universal scholars of the Middle Ages.

Nature Filled with Divine Light

One reason Hildegard speaks so powerfully to iconographers is her vision of creation.

She saw the natural world as radiant with God’s presence. Mountains, trees, rivers, herbs, stars, and human beings all participated in the life of the Creator. Rather than separating the spiritual from the material, Hildegard saw them as united.

Her writings frequently celebrate what she called viriditas—the “greening power” or life-giving vitality of God flowing through all creation. This image beautifully parallels the iconographer’s task. Icons reveal not merely the appearance of the visible world but its transfigured reality, illuminated by divine life.

Like the icon, Hildegard’s vision teaches us to see beneath appearances into the deeper reality of God’s presence.

Mystic and Prophet

Hildegard was not only a contemplative but also a prophet.

She fearlessly challenged corruption wherever she found it, addressing emperors, bishops, abbots, and even popes with remarkable courage. She often compared herself to the prophet Ezekiel, whose symbolic visions exposed the spiritual failures of his own generation.

For Hildegard, prophecy was never about predicting the future. It was about awakening people to truth.

Prophets, she believed, illuminate the darkness. They call people to responsibility, repentance, justice, and deeper communion with God.

Her book Scivias invites readers to “know the wise ways” rather than the foolish ones. Her other major works—including Liber Vitae Meritorum (Book of Life’s Merits), De Operatione Dei (The Book of Divine Works), Physica, and Liber Compositae Medicinae—combine theology, ethics, medicine, natural science, and spiritual wisdom into a unified vision of human flourishing.

Throughout her writings she repeatedly emphasizes one practical virtue: usefulness. The purpose of knowledge, prayer, and creativity is not self-glorification but the building up of God’s people.

Saint Hildegard Icon written by Christine Hales

Lessons for Today’s Iconographer

Hildegard’s life offers profound encouragement for those called to write icons.

She reminds us that artistic excellence and deep spirituality are not separate pursuits but expressions of the same vocation. The iconographer must cultivate prayer, theological understanding, careful observation of creation, disciplined craftsmanship, and openness to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

She also teaches us that creativity flourishes when rooted in contemplation. Because Hildegard remained faithful to her mystical experiences while embracing music, medicine, science, theology, and art, she models an integrated life in which every gift serves God.

Perhaps this is why she continues to inspire Christians from many traditions. Her work points toward a unity that transcends divisions—a unity grounded in the conviction that all truth belongs to God.

In 2012, Hildegard of Bingen was declared a Doctor of the Church, becoming only the fourth woman to receive this distinction. She is also widely honored as a patron of ecology because of her profound understanding of humanity’s relationship with creation.

For iconographers, her life serves as a reminder that our work is not simply the production of sacred images. It is participation in God’s ongoing work of revealing His glory through the beauty of creation.

When we grind pigments, lay gold leaf, or prayerfully draw the face of Christ or one of His saints, we participate in the same sacramental vision that Hildegard proclaimed nearly nine hundred years ago—a world alive with Divine Light.

Viriditas, is a latin term for “greenness”, a concept Hildegard used for healing as a metaphor for the divine life force, vitality, and the healing energy that permeates all of nature and the human soul. In iconography, we could equate that concept with the concept of the uncreated light that icons capture. The light of God as distinct from the light of the sun. Viriditas was “the greening power of God.” It was in everything, including humans. This “greenness” was an expression of heaven, the creative power of life

I hope this blog is of interest and look forward to hearing your comments!

Blessings,

Christine Hales

Suggested Reading

Illuminations of Hildegard of Bingen, text by Hildegard of Bingen with commentary by Matthew Fox
Christian Mysticism by Manuela Dunn Mascetti
Hildegard’s own writings, including Scivias, The Book of Divine Works, Physica, and Book of Life’s Merits

Interesting Links for Iconographers:

Betsy Porter hosts regular Zoom get togethers for all iconographers. She is an iconographer in California and a member of St. Gregory’s Church. To get on her mailing list for zoom links, visit her website: Betsy Porter

Dorothy Alexander holds an Icon writing get together for iconographers , also in California. To get on her email list, contact me – she doesn’t seem to have a website.

My Internet Accounts

https://newchristianicons.com my main website
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com
9. my Patreon Account: christinehalesfineart

The Bride With the Ring on Her Finger

Saint Catherine of Alexandria and the Power of the Sacred Image

Feast Day · November 25 · Virgin & Martyr Patron of Philosophers · Scholars · Clergy · Young Women

Dear Fellow Iconographers — I’ve been deep in research for a commission of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, and I find myself compelled to share what I’ve discovered. The story of this saint has at its very heart a small panel painting of the Virgin and Child that changes a woman’s eternal life.

The hard facts about Catherine’s biography are almost nonexistent. Scholars are fairly confident she was not a historical figure at all. And yet — precisely because her legend was free from the weight of documented biography — her story became a vessel that could carry some of the most luminous theology of the late Middle Ages. She became immensely beloved. The absence of fact left ample room for spiritual truth that is significant to us all.

The Impossible Suitor

According to legend, Catherine was the daughter of King Kostos of Alexandria — beautiful, fiercely intelligent, and devoted to philosophy above all else. When her family pressed her to marry, she agreed on one condition she knew no earthly man could meet: her husband must equal her in nobility, wisdom, beauty, and wealth. Faced with this impossible standard, her mother consulted a hermit who lived beyond the city walls. He said he knew of a suitable candidate who exceeded even Catherine’s requirements in every way — and to introduce her to this suitor, he gave her a panel painting of the Virgin and Child. He told her to take it home, and that evening, alone, to pray before it and ask the Virgin to show her her Son.

The Icon That Opened a Vision

That evening, Catherine knelt before the icon and prayed. She fell asleep, and the Virgin appeared — but the Christ Child kept His face turned away. No matter how Catherine moved around the vision, He would not look at her. She overheard the Virgin asking her Son whether Catherine pleased Him by her beauty, her wisdom, her birth, her wealth. Each time, the Child answered that Catherine was exactly the opposite of what the Virgin described. He told her: return to the hermit, follow his teaching, and come back the following evening.

St. Catherine and the Hermit, Andrea Di Bartoli

The next morning Catherine went to the hermit, received instruction in the Christian faith, and was baptized. That night, when she knelt again before the image, the Madonna appeared immediately. This time the Child looked directly at Catherine — and His gaze was so radiant that she fell to the ground as though dead. The Virgin raised her up. The Son declared that now Catherine was truly beautiful, wise, noble, and wealthy, and that He was ready to take her as His perpetual spouse. The Virgin took Catherine’s hand, and Christ placed His ring upon her finger.

When Catherine came to herself, the ring was still there.

Anonymous (German). ‘Scenes from the Life of Saint Catherine of Alexandria,’ ca. 1430-1450. oil on wood. Walters Art Museum (37.2638): Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Brandt, 1988.

Note for iconographers: The panel painting in this legend is not decoration — it is the instrument of encounter. The image acts as the necessary intermediary between earthly and transcendent reality. And the vision it opens is not merely interior: it involves the body. Catherine finds the ring on her finger. This is precisely the theology we invoke every time we pick up a brush.

The Soul as Bride of Christ

Theologians of the late thirteenth century shaped this legend deliberately. Catherine becomes a type of the contemplative soul — any soul, not only a nun’s — that withdraws from the distractions of the world to be wholly the bride of Christ. She is a model for women who wish to live a deeply religious life while remaining in secular surroundings. Her story says: the sacred marriage is available to you. The icon on your wall can be the beginning of it.

“My beloved is mine, and I am his.” — Song of Songs 2:16

The Wheel, the Sword, and the Milk

The rest of the legend unfolds with the fierce beauty characteristic of the great martyrs. The Emperor Maxentius ordered fifty philosophers to argue her out of her faith — all fifty were instead converted by her, and burned. He threw her in prison; a dove fed her daily from heaven; Christ Himself visited her cell and promised her a crown of glory. When she refused to marry him, declaring her spouse was already Jesus Christ, he condemned her to the spiked breaking wheel. At her touch, it shattered. She was beheaded. From her neck flowed milk, not blood.

In the sixth century, the Emperor Justinian established what is now Saint Catherine’s Monastery in Egypt, built around the site of the burning bush of Moses. It has been a place of pilgrimage and miraculous healing for fifteen centuries.

Why She Matters to Us

We paint icons because we believe what the Catherine legend enacts: that the sacred image is not illustration but threshold. It is a place where the invisible agrees to become visible, where the transcendent condescends to the material, where a woman can fall asleep before a small panel painting and wake with a ring on her finger.

Master of the Misericordia, St. Catherine oA alexandria

Among the fourteen most helpful saints, Catherine stands as patron of those who love wisdom. In our work, she reminds us that the image we are writing participates in a story far older and stranger than we can fully see. We are not simply illustrating theology. We are making a threshold.

Researched for a commission of Saint Catherine of Alexandria. Saint Catherine’s feast day is November 25.

Thanks so much for reading! Here are my other websites if you’d like to see some of my work!

Have a blessed June!

Christine

LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

https://newchristianicions.com my main website
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

“Make Me An Instrument Of Your Peace”

Painting Saint Francis: A Contemplative Reflection

Dear Friends,

As I begin work on an icon of Saint Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio for my upcoming class at Holy Cross Monastery, I find myself reflecting less on the historical details of Francis’s life and more on the spiritual movement within it—the slow transformation of a human heart toward God.

Prayer Attributed to Saint Francis, Image of Saint Francis by Cimabue

Icons often teach us long before they are finished. While preparing the board, laying the ground, and beginning the first lines of the drawing, I realize that Saint Francis’s life itself unfolds like an icon written in stages.

Francis did not begin as a saint. He began as many of us do—comfortable, admired, and confident in worldly success. Yet illness, disappointment, and prayer opened a space within him where God could speak. His conversion was not sudden perfection but a gradual awakening.

St. Francis Icon Hales

Again and again, Francis encountered Christ in unexpected places: in solitude, in poverty, in the suffering face of the leper, and finally before the crucifix at San Damiano. When he heard the words, “Repair my house,” he responded with simplicity. He did not yet understand their full meaning; he simply acted in faith.

This is deeply iconographic.

When we begin an icon, we do not see the finished image clearly. We proceed step by step—layer upon layer—trusting that illumination will come through obedience to the process. Francis lived in this same spirit of obedience. By renouncing wealth and security, he allowed his life to become transparent to divine light.

Francis teaches us that holiness is not escape from the world but reconciliation with it. Seeing all creation as brother and sister, he recognized the presence of God shining through every living thing. Peace with nature flowed from peace with God.

St. Francis and thee Wolf — St. Francis and the Wolf by Christine Hales

The story of the Wolf of Gubbio expresses this beautifully. Francis did not conquer the wolf; he restored relationship. Violence ceased when fear gave way to compassion. The icon reminds us that peace begins in the conversion of the human heart.

As iconographers—and as Christians—we are invited into the same work. We repair the house of God first within ourselves. Through prayer, humility, and attention, the hard surfaces of the heart are gradually burnished until they reflect Christ’s light.

While painting Saint Francis, I am reminded that the icon is not only an image of a saint. It is also a question addressed to each of us:

St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata by Giotto — St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata, by Giotto

Where is God asking me to bring peace?
What must I release in order to follow Christ more freely?
How might my own life become a window into divine love?

May Saint Francis intercede for us, teaching us to walk gently, to live simply, and to recognize all creation as a sacred gift.

With gratitude and peace,

Christine Simoneau Hales, Iconographer

LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

https://newchristianicions.com my main website
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

Giotto and the Living Tradition of Icons

Reflections for Iconographers

When I finally have time to pray and reflect on the direction my iconography is leading me, I often discover that artistic questions are also spiritual questions. Recently, my thoughts have returned again and again to Giotto, the great Italian painter of the late 13th and early 14th centuries.

If I listen carefully to that still, small voice guiding my work, I sense an invitation to understand Giotto more deeply — not only visually, but spiritually. His art seems to stand at a threshold: faithful to the sacred language of icons while opening new ways for humanity and incarnation to be seen in Christian art.

I share these reflections in the hope that they may inspire you — whether through Giotto himself or through whatever artistic path God is unfolding within your own practice.

The Artistic World Giotto Inherited

Giotto did not emerge in isolation. The world into which he was born brought together four powerful artistic traditions:

Byzantine Art arrived from the Christian East. Its forms were austere, hierarchical, and spiritually focused. Figures appeared frontal, solemn, and often flattened against gold backgrounds, emphasizing transcendence over earthly realism. The icon was never merely decorative — it was theological vision made visible.

Romanesque Art blended classical Roman inheritance with native European expression. Geometry, symbolic animals, and decorative motifs dominated, reinforcing sacred order rather than individual psychology.

Gothic Art began introducing greater emotional expression and observation of the natural world. Figures gained movement, narrative clarity, and human presence.

Classical Influence quietly persisted beneath all these styles, preserving an awareness of volume, structure, and bodily presence inherited from antiquity.

Giotto stood precisely at the convergence of these traditions.

St. Francis Altar Piece, Bonaventura Berlinghieri 1235

From Icons to Narrative Devotion

By the late 12th century, Italian religious art was already evolving. Devotional imagery moved through a clear progression:

monumental crucifixes,
Marian icons,
and eventually painted panels narrating the lives of saints.

These panels, commissioned for churches, chapels, and altars, often included narrative side scenes recounting a saint’s life in vivid detail. They functioned much like extended icons — inviting contemplation through story as well as presence.

Here we begin to see the seeds of Giotto’s transformation.

Giotto’s Breakthrough

Early masters such as Pietro Cavallini were already experimenting with greater naturalism when Giotto arrived in Rome. Yet Giotto accomplished something profoundly new.

He carried forward the theological seriousness of Byzantine iconography while reintroducing human weight, emotion, and spatial reality.

His greatest works moved beyond panel icons into large narrative fresco cycles. Figures became monumental and grounded. Saints occupied believable space. Gestures conveyed relationship and interior life.

Giotto did not abandon the sacred purpose of images — he deepened it.

Where the icon proclaims eternity breaking into time, Giotto allowed viewers to experience salvation history unfolding within human experience itself.

The Circle Around Giotto

Giotto’s influence quickly shaped the next generation.

Bernardo Daddi, a younger contemporary, absorbed Giotto’s solidity of form while retaining the refined decorative elegance associated with the Siennese school.

Meanwhile, Duccio of Siena brought Byzantine inheritance into a lyrical and expressive direction. His rhythmic lines and luminous colors communicate joy and hope within sacred narratives. Though deeply indebted to icon tradition, Duccio expanded emotional storytelling within devotional painting.

Together, these artists demonstrate that tradition is never static. The iconographic vision was not abandoned; it was translated for new spiritual needs.

Technique, Craft, and the Artist’s Life

The technical continuity of this period is preserved in the remarkable treatise by Cennino Cennini, The Craftsman’s Handbook. Written in the early 15th century and deeply influenced by Giotto’s legacy, the text reveals the working life of medieval painters.

Cennini describes everything from preparing pigments and panels to fresco technique and gilding. What emerges is not merely instruction but a worldview: the artist as disciplined craftsman serving sacred purpose.

For iconographers today, this continuity is striking. Many of us still grind pigments, prepare panels, and apply gold in ways recognizable to these early masters. The physical practice itself becomes prayer.

Giotto and the Iconographer Today

Why does Giotto matter to iconographers?

Because he reminds us that fidelity to tradition does not mean immobility.

Icons reveal the transfigured world — humanity illuminated by divine light. Giotto’s achievement was to show that the Incarnation also sanctifies human emotion, gesture, and lived experience.

He stands not as a rejection of iconography but as one of its great interpreters.

For those of us writing icons today, his work asks an important question:

How do we remain faithful to the theological vision of the icon while speaking meaningfully to the spiritual eyes of our own time?

A Personal Reflection

As I continue my own journey in iconography, I find myself increasingly grateful for artists like Giotto who listened deeply to both tradition and inspiration. Their courage encourages us to remain attentive to where the Holy Spirit may be guiding our work.

Perhaps your inspiration will not come from Giotto. Perhaps it will arise from a saint, a text, a teacher, or a quiet discovery in your studio.

But when that inspiration arrives, it is worth following.

Sacred art has always grown this way — through prayer, attention, and faithful response.

And in that sense, the icon tradition is not behind us.

It is still unfolding.

Blessings and prayers,

Christine Hales

Sources: “The World of Giotto”, C. 1267-1337, Time-Life Books, Sarel Eimerl

My Internet links: LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

https://newchristianicions.com my main website

Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons

https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en

American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983

Guarding the Archetype

Reflections on Constantine Cavarnos’ Guide to Byzantine Iconography

This month I would like to share several reflections drawn from Constantine Cavarnos’ important work, Guide to Byzantine Iconography. For those of us laboring in our studios today, the questions he raises remain foundational:

How do we create new icons for contemporary Christians while faithfully preserving the original intentions of the earliest sacred images?

The Formation of Hieratic Types

In the early centuries of Christian art, the Church Fathers recognized the necessity of establishing hieratic types—sacred prototypes that would serve as authoritative visual theology. These were not merely artistic conventions. They formed a coherent, didactic, allegorical system intended to guide both iconographers and the faithful.

John the Baptist Icon by Christine Hales

Cavarnos writes:

“The purpose of depicting these consecrated types was to contribute to the edification of the faithful… Through them, the Church recommends to the faithful a hidden, spiritual teaching.”

The earliest biblical scenes—many preserved in the frescoes of the Roman catacombs (2nd–4th centuries)—already demonstrate this theological intentionality. The selection of subjects was not arbitrary. It was shaped by the symbolism of the Gospels and Apostolic writings, and guided by the Spirit within the life of the Church.

The Long Refinement of the Archetypes

St. John, the hut dweller and Paul of Thebes, Greek-Cretan Icon 15-17th centuries

Photios Kontoglou expresses this development with particular clarity:

“The archetypes of Byzantine Iconography are the result of centuries of spiritual life, Christian experience, genius, and work. The iconographers who developed them regarded their work as awesome, like the dogmas of the true Faith, and they worked with humility and piety, on types that had been handed down to them by earlier iconographers, avoiding all inopportune and inappropriate changes. Through long elaboration, these various representations were freed from everything superfluous and inconstant, and attained the greatest and most perfect expression and power.”

This passage is worth lingering over. The archetypes were not invented in a moment of individual inspiration. They were purified over centuries—stripped of the accidental, the sentimental, and the merely fashionable—until they achieved distilled spiritual clarity.

What remains is not stylistic rigidity, but theological precision.

Why We Copy Pre-Renaissance Icons

Most of us were trained with the guidance: copy icons from before the Renaissance. Cavarnos and Kontoglou help us understand why.

From the Renaissance onward, Western art increasingly emphasized naturalism, individual expression, and worldly concerns—even within Christian subject matter. The center of gravity shifted toward human emotion and physical realism.

By contrast, the Byzantine tradition preserved the ancient archetypes. Because it maintained continuity with the established types, it retained its spiritual luminosity and theological integrity. The icon remained what it was intended to be: not a window into psychological narrative, but a window into eternity.

To copy pre-Renaissance icons, then, is not antiquarianism. It is fidelity to a theological vision refined by centuries of ecclesial experience.

Christ Redeemer Icon written by Christine Hales 2026 — Christ Redeemer Icon, written by Christine Hales

Our Responsibility in the Studio

For those of us creating icons today, the task is both humble and demanding:

To revive the archetypes with reverence.
To avoid unnecessary innovation.
To allow the forms to shape us rather than imposing ourselves upon them.
To participate in a tradition that is larger than our individual artistic impulse.

If the early iconographers regarded their work as “awesome, like the dogmas of the true Faith,” then so must we.

May these reflections strengthen and give wings to your holy practice. May our work, grounded in the consecrated types, continue to edify the faithful and communicate the hidden, spiritual teaching entrusted to the Church.

Until next month,
Christine Hales
Artist / Iconographer

Interesting Links For Iconographers:

International juried exhibition of contemporary sacred art The Light of the Logos (Svetlost Logosa), which will take place 1–16 September 2026 at the Kolarac Endowment Gallery in Belgrade, Serbia. OPEN CALL FOR APPLICATIONS: https://kaleidoskop-media.com/svetlost-logosa/open-call-the-light-of-the-logos-2026. Short video from last year’s edition: https://youtu.be/pP7KpbV_6lU

From Dorothy Alexander, Santa Barbra CA, An Orthodox Liturgical Arts Retreat is being offered at Echo Park, CA (7.26 – 8/1/26). 1) Mosaic and Repoussé/Sgraffito and 2) Egg Tempera Iconography. Micah Andrews is a mosaic master and we are also blessed to have Dr. Victoria Brennan presenting and teaching. Contact Dorothy Alexander by email or text for more information, dotalexander@westmont.edu, or (805) 708-0453.

LINKS For Christine Simoneau Hales 2026

https://newchristianicions.com my main website
Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons
https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en
American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983
American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

The Living Icon

Greetings Friends and Fellow Iconographers:

I am spending more time re-reading some of my icon related books and want to share with you this months some of the insights I found in : “The Avant-Garde Icon, Russian Avant Gard Art & The Icon Painting Tradition” by Andrew Spira. I really like the clarity of thought here about what is important to carry forward in our contemporary icons. I hope you enjoy it!

At the heart of the icon lies a radical claim: the presence of an Absolute in the world. This is the underlying principle that distinguishes the icon from all other forms of religious art. The definitive characteristic of the icon is not stylistic consistency or historical fidelity, but its metaphysical identity. An icon does not simply depict holiness—it participates in it.

For iconographers today, this distinction is crucial. The challenge is not merely to preserve a tradition, but to remain in living relationship with it. The struggle to create an art form capable of communicating the mystery of the incarnate God has shaped icon painting from its earliest beginnings. Because God became flesh, matter itself became capable of bearing divine presence. Icon painting is therefore an innately sacred art, one that originates in—and continues through—the reality of the Incarnation.

Icons as Encounter with God

A sixth-century tradition tells us that the first icon was of the Madonna and Child, painted from life by the Apostle Luke. Whether taken literally or symbolically, this story reveals something essential about the nature of iconography: icons arise from encounter, not abstraction. They are born from witness, prayer, and lived experience rather than from theory alone.

Icons are replete with symbolic meaning, but their power lies in more than symbolism. Their narrative and didactic conventions—long associated with the transmission of Truth—operate on both conscious and subliminal levels. For the iconographer, fidelity to these conventions is not a matter of imitation for its own sake, but an act of participation in a sacramental language. Adherence to both the symbolic and sacramental significance of the icon is essential to its true identity.

The iconographic tradition reached one of its highest expressions in the work of the Russian monk Andrei Rublev (c. 1370–1430). His Old Testament Trinity became a defining image of Orthodox theology precisely because it does not explain the Trinity—it reveals it. Drawing on Genesis 18, Rublev’s use of three angels to represent the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit allows the viewer to encounter the unity of the Godhead through contemplation rather than analysis. The icon silently discloses divine mystery to the inner eye and the receptive heart.

Yet even living traditions can lose their interior vitality. In sixteenth-century Russia, efforts to preserve iconography led to the Hundred Chapters Council (Stoglav) of 1551. Iconographic manuals were introduced to formalize and regulate canonical forms. While this development was consistent with long-standing practices of copying prototypes, it also signaled a deeper shift. The contemplative spirit that had sustained the tradition from within no longer prevailed with the same force.

Dangers of Losing the Contemplative Spirit

A subtle transformation followed. Icon painters continued to reproduce established models, but increasingly focused on external form rather than inward engagement. Copying, once a sacramental act rooted in prayer and insight, risked becoming an exercise in technical replication. The icon was still produced correctly, yet no longer always created from within the living current of the tradition.

This historical moment speaks directly to contemporary iconographers. In our own time, the desire to create an art that is both accessible and faithful often leads us back to Byzantine models. But the question remains: are we copying in order to conform, or copying in order to participate?

Myself working on the Confession of Saint Peter Icon

Exploring the potential of icons within the modern world requires more than technical mastery or historical accuracy. It calls for a renewed commitment to the transcendental nature of the icon itself. For the iconographer today, tradition is not a fixed archive but a living inheritance—one that demands not only discipline of hand, but attention of heart.

A Closing Reflection for the Contemporary Iconographer

For those of us working within the iconographic tradition today, the essential question is not whether we are faithful to the models we inherit, but how we are faithful to them. Technique, historical knowledge, and canonical accuracy matter deeply—but they are not sufficient on their own. Without interior attentiveness, they risk becoming ends rather than means.

Importance of Prayer and Humility

The tradition reminds us that copying was never intended to be a mechanical act. It was, and remains, a sacramental discipline: a way of submitting the self to a form that reveals more than it contains. When approached with prayer, humility, and discernment, the act of copying becomes a participation in the same contemplative vision that gave rise to the prototype in the first place.

In a contemporary context—where icons are often encountered as cultural artifacts, aesthetic objects, or commodities—the iconographer is quietly entrusted with a different responsibility. Our task is not to innovate for novelty’s sake, nor to preserve forms as relics of the past, but to allow the icon to remain what it has always been: a place of encounter between the visible and the invisible.

My Baptism of Jesus Icon at the Cathedral of Saint Peter, Saint Petersburg

The enduring challenge, then, is this: to work with discipline without rigidity, tradition without nostalgia, and creativity without self-assertion. When the iconographer remains attentive to the spiritual source of the tradition, the icon continues to speak—not as an echo of history, but as a living witness to the incarnate God in the present moment.

Please share your thoughts or ideas for future posts! Many thanks for following and you are all in my prayers, for God’s blessings to go before you as you work on His icons.

Blessings,

Christine

My Links: https://newchristianicions.com my main website

Https://christinehalesicons.com Prints of my Icons

https://online.iconwritingclasses.com my online pre-recorded icon writing classes

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK2WoRDiPivGtz2aw61FQXA My YouTube Channel

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristineHalesFineArt or https://www.facebook.com/NewChristianIcons/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinehalesicons/?hl=en

American Association of Iconographers: FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/371054416651983

American Association of Iconographers Website: https://americanassociationoficonographers.com

The Substance of Things Seen: Creating Contemporary Icons for the Christian Community

Inspired by Robin M. Jensen

Detail, Trinity Icon. written by Christine Hales. after Andre Rublev

Christian art has never existed merely to decorate sacred spaces or to please the eye. At its best, it has served the Church as a theological language—one that gives visible form to invisible truths and nurtures worship practices that are both spiritually vital and theologically rooted. In The Substance of Things Seen, Robin M. Jensen articulates with clarity the indispensable role of art in Christian theology, worship, and communal life. Her insights are particularly relevant today as artists and iconographers seek to create contemporary icons that speak faithfully within modern contexts while remaining rooted in tradition.

Art as a Theological Practice

Christian art, and iconography in particular, occupies a unique place within the life of faith. Icons do not simply illustrate doctrine; they participate in it. They promote an ongoing conversation between faith and art—one in which visual form, prayer, and theology are inseparably linked. As Jensen reminds us, art within the Christian tradition is not neutral. It shapes belief, informs devotion, and forms the imagination of the worshiping community.

Yet this formative power carries responsibility. “If we remember that imitations are secondary things,” Jensen writes, “meant to guide us or inspire us toward the truth but not to substitute for it, we may avoid confusing objects with values or beautiful things with beauty itself.” The icon, then, is not an end in itself. It is a means—an invitation toward encounter rather than a replacement for the divine reality it signifies.

Icon Writing as Spiritual Formation

Within this framework, contemporary icon writing can be understood not simply as an artistic discipline but as a process of spiritual formation. Icon writing classes, when properly grounded, are aimed at producing visible images that point far beyond themselves. Creation and formation unfold together. The artist is shaped even as the image takes form.

This understanding resonates deeply with the Christian conviction expressed in 2 Corinthians 3:18: “We see not the truth itself, but are being transformed as we behold.” The thing we see is not the truth itself, but a means of encounter with the truth. In icon writing, the slow, prayerful process—layer upon layer of pigment, prayer, and contemplation—mirrors the gradual transformation of the human heart.

Seeing, Meaning, and Community

Jensen also reminds us that the perceived meaning of any work of art depends upon the experience, social location, interests, needs, and predispositions of its audience. Icons are not viewed in a vacuum. They exist within communities, cultures, and lived realities. Contemporary iconography must therefore attend carefully to context—not by abandoning tradition, but by allowing tradition to speak into the present moment with discernment and humility.

My Saint James Icon being blessed by Bishop Carlos in Santiago Spain

The icon does not record a particular physical appearance so much as it gathers and focuses prayer. It helps the viewer sense the invisible presence of the one to whom prayer is addressed. In this sacred exchange, the viewer does not merely look at the image but is invited to look through it. The icon serves as a medium of prayer directed toward a reality beyond the painted surface.

Holy Places and Sacred Spaces

My Nativity Icon at Church of the Redeemer, Sarasota, FL

This sacramental understanding of images naturally extends to architecture and sacred space. A holy place is traditionally understood as a meeting point between heaven and earth—a site where the divine presence has manifested, a gateway between the visible and the invisible. In this sense, all architecture functions iconically, and religious architecture does so in a particularly concentrated way.

Like painted icons, sacred spaces manifest ideas in nonverbal form, functioning symbolically at both the most mundane and the most profound levels. Depending on how it is viewed and used, a religious space may mediate or even “contain” holy presence in much the same way as a traditional icon painted on a wooden panel.

Toward a Faithful Contemporary Practice

Creating contemporary icons, then, is not about innovation for its own sake. It is about faithfulness—faithfulness to theological truth, to liturgical life, and to the formative power of sacred art within Christian community. Drawing on the wisdom articulated by Jensen, contemporary iconographers are invited to see their work not merely as aesthetic production, but as participation in the Church’s ongoing act of seeing, praying, and becoming.

In this way, the substance of things seen becomes a pathway toward the mystery of things unseen—and the icon remains what it has always been at its best: a window into divine presence, held in humility, reverence, and prayer.

Wishing you all a blessed and joyous New Year!

Christine Hales

https://newchristianicons.com

Interesting Links for Iconographers:

Religious symbolism- Explained by Britannica https://www.britannica.com/topic/religious-symbolism History and symbolism of Iconography

History and symbolism of Iconography – Monastery Icons

Introduction to Icons: Patristix

Sacred Spaces: Richard Vosko, God’s House is Our House, Reimagining the Environment for Worship, Liturgical Press; and also by Richard Vosko. Art and Architecture for Congregational Worship: The Search for a Common Ground.

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