
Then and Now: the Symptoms of the Iconoclast Crisis
One of the most fiercely debated issues in the entire history of the Christian Church is that of the status of sacred images. Byzantine iconoclasts led by Emperor Leo III the Isaurian (c. 685–741) destroyed icons, as did later Lutherans and Calvinists, who removed objects with iconic status (both images and statues) from churches. Regardless of the details and historical episodes of this dispute, its primary reference is always the third commandment of the Decalogue transmitted to us by God through Moses:
Thou shalt not make to thyself a graven thing, nor the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth (Exodus 20: 3).
At first glance, this article of the Decalogue seems to prohibit any sacred image. However, the mere presence on the ark of the law of the “two cherubims of beaten gold” (Exodus 25: 18), as well as other similar examples from the Old Testament, show us that, in fact, it is not about an absolute prohibition. In this sense, Bishop Richard Challoner (1691–1781), in his commentary on this point, states the following:
All such images, or likenesses, are forbidden by this commandment, as are made to be adored and served; according to that which immediately follows, thou shalt not adore them, nor serve them. That is, all such as are designed for idols or image-gods, or are worshipped with divine honour. But otherwise images, pictures, or representations, even in the house of God, and in the very sanctuary so far from being forbidden, are expressly authorized by the word of God. (See Exodus 25: 15, and etc.; chap. 38: 7; Numeri 21: 8, 9; 1 Chronicles or Paralipomenon 28: 18, 19; 2 Chronicles or Paralipomenon. 3: 10).
Despite the fact that such clear explanations have always existed in Christian Tradition, the great iconoclastic crisis in the Byzantine world, which unfolded in the 8th and 9th centuries AD, could not be prevented. Although it ended by emphasizing the lawful use of sacred images in churches in the Second Council of Nicaea (787), whose teachings were developed under the influence of great theologians such as the saints John of Damascus (c. 675 or 676–749) and Theodore the Studite (759–826), the debate was reignited by the spread of Protestant heresies. Today, under the strong influence of the liturgical revolution (i.e., protestantization), numerous churches suffer from three major symptoms of this misunderstanding of the Decalogue.
The first, the most serious, is manifested by the almost complete exclusion of sacred images from post-conciliar Catholic churches. While this phenomenon is less noticeable in countries where older churches are still in use, in places where new churches are built, they are often devoid of religious icons. During my early travels in the United States, in New York, Phoenix, and Cary, I saw for the first time Catholic churches where there were no religious images whatsoever. Without exception, they resembled more conference halls or sports venues and had only a single crucifix above or behind the altar. Occasionally, a few statues of better-known saints like Teresa of Lisieux and Padre Pio could be found. Otherwise, there were no sacred images. At the same time, I did not notice any form of veneration of the few existing icons (I recall that in the Eastern Churches there is an entire “cult of icons” accompanied by appropriate gestures—for example, upon entering the church the icons are kissed or at least touched).
A second symptom, equally widespread though not necessarily as severe, consists of replacing images that adhere to the old canons of sacred aesthetics with naturalistic or even post-modern and abstract religious paintings. Usually of questionable quality, these ugly paintings make visible the third symptom, namely, the lack of attention to the true requirements of beauty in religious representations. Often they border on kitsch, as exemplified by the creations of Marko Ivan Rupnik, for instance. Opposed to all these symptoms, the presence of authentic Christian religious art, truly beautiful, is the defining element of authentic Catholic Tradition. It is enough to look at the images from the 18th edition (1915) of the Roman Missal printed by Friedrich Pustet to see what respect for the beauty of holy beings and things means.

The Heart of the Matter: the Incarnation of Our Lord, Jesus Christ
Considering all these aspects related to the liturgical revolution triggered by the eclipse of Christian faith, the first thing I will say is that all deviations originate from the confusion between “idol” (Greek εἴδωλον) and “icon” (Greek εἰκών). Bishop Challoner’s explanation is precisely based on the difference between the two entities. It is absolutely necessary, in a context where we are still accused of idolatry (especially by neo-Protestants), to know the teachings of the Church. Thus, besides deepening our own faith, we may perhaps succeed in combating erroneous (i.e., heretical) opinions.
As I have already mentioned, the main argument invoked by those who reject icons comes from the Old Testament. Starting from the third commandment of the Decalogue, it has been assumed that even in the context of Christianity, religious images have no place in religious worship. Behind this attitude lies a grave error. An error that, in fact, implicitly denies the Incarnation of the Divine Logos—the second Person of the Holy Trinity, Savior Jesus Christ—and the extraordinary consequences of this cosmic historical event. This is why the iconic representation par excellence is not that of the Virgin Mary, nor are those of the saints and angels of God. The central representation (i.e., the “archetypal” icon) of the entire Christian iconographic program is that of Savior Jesus Christ. That is why the icons of our Lord, Jesus Christ, hold an exceptional role due to the fact that the second person of the Holy Trinity became man by assuming, in His person, alongside the divine nature, the human nature.
In the world of the Old Testament, which suffered the consequences of the original sin of Adam and Eve, the face of God was hidden from humanity. It was only through the Incarnation of the Son of God that His face became visible again. Therefore, the appearance of icons in the early centuries of the Christian era marks the extraordinary difference between the two worlds: the old one, before Christ, which did not have access to the Kingdom of Heaven (the gates being guarded by cherubim with a flaming sword), and the new one, for which the Kingdom is once again accessible and God has become visible through His Incarnation from the Virgin Mary.
The Teachings of the Church
Considering this essential point, the Church has defended sacred images from ancient times. What it has actually defended is the realism of God’s Incarnation, the fact that this absolutely extraordinary event is not a fiction but a crucial historical truth. One of the most important teachings was expressed within the Second Council of Nicaea (787):
As the sacred and life-giving cross is everywhere set up as a symbol, so also should the images of Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, the holy angels, as well as those of the saints and other pious and holy men be embodied in the manufacture of sacred vessels, tapestries, vestments, etc., and exhibited on the walls of churches, in the homes, and in all conspicuous places, by the roadside and everywhere, to be revered by all who might see them. For the more they are contemplated, the more they move to fervent memory of their prototypes. Therefore, it is proper to accord to them a fervent and reverent veneration, not, however, the veritable adoration which, according to our faith, belongs to the Divine Being alone— for the honor accorded to the image passes over to its prototype, and whoever venerate the image venerate in it the reality of what is there represented.
So sacred images can and should be venerated. But we must understand exactly the nature of the gestures of venerating icons (adoration is reserved exclusively for God). We do not venerate the material from which the icon is made (wood, ceramic, canvas, etc.), just as we do not venerate the paints with which it is painted. In fact, we honor the persons from the unseen world who are represented, by similarity, in icons. This is the true meaning of veneration. In a well-known example, it is emphasized that when a mother kisses the photograph of her son who has gone to war, she does not “venerate” the material from which the photograph is made. What normal person would do such a thing? The kiss is, in fact, a gesture of communion with the person represented in that photograph. This is exactly the sense in which the faithful kiss and honor icons: they mark through these gestures a profound communion with the divine persons—the “prototypes,” as the Second Council of Nicaea says—represented.
Finally, there is another important aspect regarding the importance of images: they educate us. They teach us the truths of faith. In a world flooded with profane images, we need sacred images more than ever. Unlike the profane and often profane images of today’s media culture, icons are true windows to the heavenly Jerusalem, where in the bosom of the Triune God—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—dwell all the angels and saints, upon whom shines the beauty of she who “has been raised above the cherubims, and has become higher than the seraphims”—the Holy Virgin Mary.
One of the great defenders and teachers of the iconoclastic cult, Saint John of Damascus, expressed with very beautiful words this reality of nurturing and growing the soul through sacred icons:
The beauty of the images moves me to contemplation, as a meadow delights the eyes and subtly infuses the soul with the glory of God.
Let us remember that the only experience that can be compared to true contemplation (and which is possible only through special graces granted by God) is aesthetic contemplation, which fills our hearts with delight. We all know very well that it can be terribly profane and profaning, as seen in naturalistic art or in the tsunami of images in which people are nowadays immersed. However, when used properly, art can be the only accessible form of contemplation, representing a specific type of experience suitable for encountering the sacred.
If, however, the hieratic and sacred beauty of Christian images and holy objects disappears from our churches under the influence of the new iconoclasm, let us not be surprised that, frozen, the souls of the faithful will long for the worldly spirit, ultimately losing their supernatural faith. Without sacred art, authentic religion—like a flower—fades, withers, and dies. This is why the sign of the restoration of authentic Catholic religion can only be the restoration of authentic sacred art.
I learned and understood as a very little boy that it is not the image that we venerate but the living person represented. My mother taught me this not only in Church where we lovingly caressed or waved to the sacred images but in visits to the cemetery where she would always touch the gravestone. A wonderful explanation. Thank you.
It is frustrating that while Protestants still shy away from sacred art in their places of assembly (ostensibly worship, though it falls short of true worship), they are often responsible for shows such as "The Chosen" which depict Christ and His followers portrayed by human actors. True sacramental icons are painted (written) under exacting canonical guidelines, whereas dramatic shows are not. Which one is idolatry? I know my answer.