20 April 2008

Underlying Ethics in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein


When reading a piece of literature, it may occur that something about a text captures a reader’s attention, thus making them want to investigate the potential implications surrounding the work’s intention. Indeed, an author may frequently suggest particular themes in their novel that encourage a reader to delve more intently into the message the author wishes to assert. While many texts can create this interest, one in particular draws the reader’s attention in very poignant ways; this novel is Mary Shelley’s famous 19th century thriller, Frankenstein. After reading the text, one begins asking what Shelley wants to say to the reader. Is this a fantastical text meant to simply please the audience, or is there a more significant meaning Shelley wants the reader to consider? Indeed, Shelley raises a series of ethical questions through the actions of the novel’s protagonist, Victor Frankenstein that cannot be ignored. While Shelley writes addressing many areas of ethical importance, this essay will focus upon two of the most notable: this includes the importance of creative responsibility in parent-child relationships and in the world of modern science in general. The claim this author wishes to make therefore, is that by looking at the life of Mary Shelley, Victor Frankenstein and his creature, and modern society, one can perceive a strong correlation between the underlying ethical questions Shelley raises in her work with problems now seen in today’s contemporary society. In truth, Shelley warns her reader that when humans ignore ethical responsibility, horrific consequences will likely ensue.
Before discussing these ethical concerns within Frankenstein, one should be given a summary of the novel and the context surrounding the work. Essentially, the story involves a young, motherless Victor Frankenstein who leaves his idyllic home in Geneva where his father and adopted sister Elizabeth dwell, in order to study chemistry and natural philosophy at the university in Ingolstadt. After reading the works of Cornelius Agrippa, the sixteenth-century scholar of occult sciences, Victor becomes obsessed with discovering how to create new outside of natural means. Spending endless hours consumed with this endeavor, Victor “abandons his family and friends in attempt to win fame”, though ultimately finding the “cause of generation and life” through “physiological engineering” using electricity (Segal 861). From here, he begins gathering body parts to create his very own creature. Upon success, Victor rejects his creation due to its grotesque deformity and flees its presence. The maddened Frankenstein then becomes ill with guilt and is later told his youngest brother, William, has been murdered. Suspecting the death is due to his monster, he returns home and finds the creature crossing his path, thus confirming his suspicion. With a family friend, Justine, tried and unjustly killed for murder, Victor is again sickened with blame and leaves for the mountains to retreat and recover from the loss. While there, the creature approaches him and tells his tale, requesting he be given a companion out of justice and mercy. Upon serious deliberation and nearly completing the request, Victor ultimately refuses and destroys the female cadaver he produces. Consequently, the creature retaliates and kills those closest to Victor, going so far as to kill Victor’s bride, Elizabeth, on his wedding night, thus leaving him alone and desperate for the rest of his days. Victor, determined to kill his monster, chases him as far as the North Pole until he is rescued by a seaman to whom he tells his tale. There he dies and is then greeted by the creature who grieves over his maker and goes off into the sea to die.
The context surrounding the work is as follows. The year is 1816 and Europe is soon to embark upon the rise of the Industrial revolution. The age of science has driven men to explore aspects of life which have never been attempted. Mary Shelley, age nineteen, and knowledgeable in the areas of literature, philosophy and “familiar with the emerging trends in chemistry and electricity,” is married to the famous poet and secret “mad-scientist” Percy Bysshe Shelley (McCurdy 262). In the summer of that same year, Mary, after recently losing a child, vacations with friends Lord Byron and Dr. Polidori in Geneva, Switzerland where they each discuss composing a “horror story” (Mellor 40). With their lengthy ponderings upon the science of galvanism and the success of a Dr. Erasmus Darwin who made vermicelli move voluntarily, Mary has a frightful dream (Kemp). She describes her “waking” nightmare:
When I placed my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw – with shut eyes, but acute mental vision, -- [a pale] student of the unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion (Lienhard).
With this horridly vivid vision deeply impressed upon her mind, Mary begins writing her tale.
However, is there more purpose to her creating this text than to simply compose a fantastic horror story based off her frightening dream? For what reason does she write this work? Is it for creative pleasure, or are there deeper ethical messages she seeks to convey to her reader? When looking at the life of Mary Shelley and the world she lives in, one perceives there is more than purely creative intention for her writing this work. With European scientists like Giovanni Aldini and Andrew Ur trying to “infuse the spark of life into [a] lifeless thing” using electrical currents (Kemp), Shelley recognizes that the attempt to create life from death is not uncommon. Yet, while she knows of these realities, she does not necessarily agree with them. Shelley states, “Frightful it must be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavor to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world” (Kemp). In this insightful remark, Shelley warns society of the dire consequences that can result when humans crosses ethical lines, and how without creative responsibility, man can become worse than the “monster” Frankenstein seeks to destroy. With this simple contextual background, one may now look at the ethical implications Shelley addresses.
Reflecting first upon the ethics of parental responsibility in relation to the life of Shelley and her novel, the reader will see how Shelley speaks her position through Victor Frankenstein’s character, warning society to avoid his moral crime. The necessity of parental influence and affection is elemental for children who wish for future happy relationships; this is seen in the life of Shelley. Having lost her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, at birth, Shelley is left to be raised by her father William Godwin, a philosophical revolutionary of his time (Mellor 2). As biographer Anne Mellor comments, “[w]atching the growth of this baby girl into the author of one of the most famous novels ever written…, we can never forget how much her desperate desire for a loving and supportive parent defined her characters, shaped her fantasies, and produced her fictional idealizations of the bourgeois family”(1). The role of the family and the responsibility the parent has towards its child is something that Shelley was well aware of. For when Godwin remarries to Mary Jane Clairmont Godwin, a certain jealousy engenders towards her new stepchild and her relationship with her husband, which she attempts to thwart by “limiting access to the father” (8). Though this divide does not completely separate Godwin from his daughter, it does greatly affect his relationship with her. Being home-schooled, Mary does receive attention from her governess, Louisa Jones, which gives Mary much joy as a young girl (9). Yet, despite Louisa’s fondness, Shelley feels the loss of her father’s affection. Godwin reveals his disinterest for his only biological daughter when he describes her as being “singularly bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind” (Mellor 13)- descriptions not becoming for a young child.
As author Lisa Nocks relates, Shelley’s parents are the source of Mary’s influence for her later writings that reflect her opinions regarding the need for familial companionship. She explains how Frankenstein, particularly, is a “a source of Mary’s own feelings of abandonment which are attributed to her mother’s death, and to her father’s subsequent marriage” (Nocks 144). After becoming a young woman, having an illegitimate love affair with Percy Shelley, and then escaping the Europe to elope, William Godwin refuses to see his daughter (Claridge 18). From this time forward, their relationship never quite heals, thus impacting Shelley’s perception on this ethical subject.
This ruptured relationship with her father seemingly influences her choice to marry Percy Shelley. For despite Percy being an immoral and uncaring of a man (he abandons his pregnant wife, Harriet Westbrook, to elope with Mary), Mary follows her heart and unfortunately learns the true character of Percy, which later influences her text. For instance, Percy believes in “free and communal love” (Mellor 29) which dramatically impacts Mary’s life and relationship with her husband. For although Mary’s is pregnant, Percy fosters a love affair with Claire, Mary’s stepsister, and furthermore encourages his friend, Thomas Hogg, to have one with Mary against her wishes (30). Additionally, the disinterest Percy expresses to Mary as she grows increasingly irritated with his relationship with Claire while she suffers from the death of her newborn child, shows the lack of discernment Mary possessed in choosing a good man to marry which again, likely results from the lack of familial attention she required from her father. Yet regardless of this fact, Mary sees the necessity for a strong nuclear family with parental involvement, which she then incorporates into her work (32).
With this understanding, one can reflect back upon the novel and see this theme of the importance of parental love and responsibility being transmitted into it. Through the sequence of events Shelley constructs, she clearly represents her beliefs on parental responsibility and the side effects that can ensue when this necessity is denied. In having Victor play the role of the rejecting father, and treating his creation with repulsion and disgust, one can see how Shelley makes her reader aware of the moral evil involved in parental neglect. These implications are noticeable from the first comment Frankenstein makes in recalling the night of the creature’s incarnation. Frankenstein states, “How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? ... I beheld the wretch—the miserable monster whom I had created (Shelley 34-5). Evidently, these are not words of love and acceptance one expects from a loving parent. Furthermore, Frankenstein does not give his creature a name, but refers to him as “the filthy daemon, to whom I had given life” (Shelley 48). Not to name one’s child is a sign of gross parental rejection and something the creature wrongly suffers because of his unchosen hideous deportment.
When evaluating Frankenstein’s reasoning behind creating this being, they appear thoroughly egocentric and obviously unconcerned about the subject who would suffer the consequences of his maniacal designs. Frankenstein comments, “A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs” (Shelley 32). Is it any surprise then that a person called a “devil” and a “vile insect” (Shelley 65) by its parent retaliates against humanity, or that they become destructive after being rejected not only by society, but by the very man who created him? Surely, the defense Shelley has the creature give Frankenstein for his malevolent behaviors shows the relationship between Victor’s neglect and his bad actions. The creature pleads
Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon
me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection,
is most due. Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam,
but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous. (Shelley 66)
In this exchange, Shelley raises the question, if a person is not wanted by a negligent parent, and knows only violence and rejection, what kind of future can that person have, but to want to cause violence and pain for others? Can they really be blamed? To illustrate how Shelley’s insights concerning the dangers of parental neglect still exist, one can look at current society.
By applying the aforementioned questions to modern society, one can discern how these ethical issues have not only gone away, but moreover support the ethical claims for parental responsibility Shelley makes in her novel. Within the past decades, the crisis involving the need for parents to show love and acceptance towards their children has not only grown significantly, but has also spawned similar tragic consequences within society. In the United States, the rise of child neglect has grown to an astronomical degree. Studies report that in 1994, there were 2.9 million reports of suspected child abuse or neglect (Carter). Interestingly, a study found by the Family Violence Prevention Fund relates that “[e]arly childhood victimization, either through direct abuse [or] neglect… has been shown to have demonstrated long-term consequences for youth violence, adult violent behavior, and other forms of criminality”(Carter). The neglect or direct abuse of children is not something to overlook since modern research shows the strong correlation between neglect/abuse and violent behavior. Interestingly, one characteristic that increases social rebellion in youth is their sense of “community cohesion” (Carter). Thus, while parental abuse can seriously damage a child, so too can community rejection. This is evidenced in Frankenstein when Shelley sees that the creature becomes violent only after society rejects him and Frankenstein’s denies him a helpmate (Nocks 146). The point to emphasize is that people need people that vital sense of belonging, acceptance and love, which allows one to live well and behave suitably within society.
As Psychiatrist Selma Fraiberg writes in her book Every Child’s Birthright, “the unnurtured, the unloved child grows into the aberrant adult—the criminal who seeks to negate his overwhelming sense of nothingness by inflicting pain on others—a scream that ‘I exist, I am’” (Claridge 21). Her insight suggests that had more criminals or juvenile delinquents been given love by their parents, their lives might not have been as wayward. Again, one must remember that the innate need of a child is to be loved. Any person, if they are to survive and function among others, must have these foundational needs met, otherwise the risk for such grave results increases significantly. In relation to Victor, he unfortunately cannot see that his “monster” acts violently due to his “overwhelming sense of despair [from] lacking human connection” (21) which Victor should have provided him. Victor therefore speaks to the point Shelley’s makes regarding the bad parent so to remind her audience of the ethical duties parents have towards their children, and furthermore to warn them of the potential repercussions irresponsible parenting can have if they fail in this regard.
The second major underlying ethical concern Shelley raises in the minds of her readers is that of the place of science within the world and the catastrophic consequences its ethical irresponsibility can have not only on individuals, but on society as a whole. While Shelley was no scholar in the study of science, she did have personal experience with those who dabbled in scientific experiments, which allowed her to see how science can potentially corrupt the minds of people. Her husband, Percy, often experimented with magic and witchcraft, becoming greatly preoccupied with electricity. In fact, Thomas Jefferson Hogg, a personal friend, comments in Percy’s biography that “amongst his other self-sought studies, he was passionately attached to the study of what used to be called the occult sciences, conjointly with that of the new wonders, which chemistry and natural philosophy [physical science] have displayed to us” (34). Interestingly, he is also said to have been Mary’s model for Frankenstein’s character, for he was the man who would “arrogantly use chemistry and electricity to create a monstrosity” (McCurdy 262). Although Mary Shelley marries him, he is not (as already described) the ideal husband, for he was “intense, radical and hotheaded” (262) and can be called the encapsulation of what one critic described as the “aspiration of modern masculine scientists to be technically creative divinities” (262). This image of the scientist making himself a type of “creative divinity” plainly reveals itself in Mary’s work. Having such personal experiences with and witnessing the effects of science (as seen through her husband), it is not surprising that she would address the subject in the novel as she herself observes the effects of this ethical danger.
In examining the text, one reads that when Victor first goes to Ingolstadt, he becomes self-absorbed in his endeavor to discover the “Vital Spark” God used to create new life (Nocks 140). Frankenstein admits a “resistless and almost frantic impulse urged me forward; I seemed to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit” (Shelley 32). However, from this crazed fixation comes side effects not only for the monster, but for Frankenstein himself. Frankenstein transforms into a man he formally was not. He is motivated by an egotistical drive that blinds him from judging things rightly. He confesses to Walton, his sea companion, “No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world” (Shelley 32). He insinuates that by his discovering the source of life, he would be enlightening the world by his intelligence. Victor reveals his rather prideful desire to manipulate the powers of life, a responsibility not meant for mortal man to possess. Blinded by his pride, Frankenstein begins to see life as something for him to toy with and, as a result, starts changing his perspective on how he looks at people.
This is apparent in the way Victor later associates with his beloved family. Although he claims to love his family to “adoration” (Shelley), he consistently ignores their request to come home. In fact, it is only upon the death of his brother William, six years later, that he sees them again. In Lisa Nock’s essay “Frankenstein, In a Better Light,” she discusses this topic, stating how the most “disturbing parts of the narrative have to do with Victor’s gradual withdrawal from his family into an isolated working frenzy in which the corpses he uses lose their significance to him as human beings and become nothing more than raw materials” (139). Verily, Frankenstein changes not only in his relationship with his family, but he also slowly starts to dehumanize those around him due to his science. For instance, Frankenstein sees his creature not as a human, but rather as a lump of human parts used for his scientific advantage and thus does not consider the ethical responsibilities he has to care for him. Consequentially, Frankenstein runs head first into disastrous and irresponsible creative experimentation.
To illustrate this truth, one can look at Frankenstein’s logic surrounding the way he constructs the body. Frankenstein is more concerned with the speed with which he makes his new creation than he is with the creature’s overall appearance. As professor Harriet Hustis explains, Frankenstein “acknowledges his unwillingness to allow seemingly insignificant minutiae to impede the progress of his creative impulse; he is interested in the principle of ‘life’ only as an abstraction.” For Victor, the creature’s appearance is insignificant; accomplishing the task takes precedence over such minor or secondary considerations. And yet, when the creature comes to life, it is precisely because of its appearance that Victor abandons it. Indeed, Victor’s scientific irresponsibility makes him more abhorrent than the victimized “monster” he seeks to destroy.
But this theme of man losing his sense of ethical boundaries and becoming monstrous through the abuse of life and science has not disappeared in the last 200 years; sadly it has only grown to astronomical proportions. Since Shelley’s time, a plethora of ethical concerns have surfaced regarding the role of science in the modern world. One underlying issue that applies to modern day is that of doctors performing an abortion, now a legal practice performed in nearly every country. Ironically, Shelley prophetically alludes to this contemporary problem when she has the creature lament, “I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on (Shelley 155). This problem of women conceiving children who they want to abort is currently a point of gross contention between people around the world and is causing much discussion in the world of ethics. Is this it okay for a woman to destroy a little baby simply because it is undesired, burdensome or possibly malformed? Can science or medicine be used to kill unwanted people?
As Shelley foresees, from the time of the scientific revolution, a Frankenstein-like mentality has increasingly spread around the world inspiring people to objectify and dehumanize others due to their convenience, their appearance, or their social function. Resultantly, such people have begun unjustly denying innocent people their right to life and liberty, deeming it their right to decide the life or death of others. Today it is estimated that approximately 46 million abortions occur every year around the world for social reasons such as its being merely unwanted (Abortion Facts). Furthermore, some individuals reason other humans are better off not existing because of physical handicaps, such as Down’s Syndrome. Because handicapped individuals look and act differently people assume that “handicapped persons cannot live meaningful and even happy lives” (Beckwith) and thus should be aborted. However, as long as there is someone to love them they can in fact live very happy and fulfilling lives. As former U.S. Surgeon General C. Everett Koop notes, “Some of the most unhappy children whom I have known have all of their physical and mental faculties, and on the other hand some of the happiest youngsters have borne burdens which I myself would find very difficult to bear” (Beckworth). Yet, because of this Frankenstein-like mindset, people ignore these facts and do as Victor did and dehumanize, neglect, abandon or abort these innocent children simply because they are different or unwanted.
One ethical issue that spawned from the abortion debate is how to develop the perfect child; how to genetically engineer people without physical defects, psychological problems or academic difficulties; how to rid the world of people who are defective and to produce the perfect eugenic race. The issue has now reached the point where scientists in the U.K. are attempting to artificially create the perfect “disease free” human baby by using DNA from three parents- one male and two female donors (Hutchison). Adding to this, technological advances now allow couples to create their very own “designer children” (Sandel). People can determine whether their child’s sex, hair and eye color, height, intelligence, etc. But the question begs, should they? Is it right for scientists to create a designer child for a couple? These are questions that cannot be ignored and must be thought of in light of Frankenstein, since both relate to the same issue; this being, what happens when science plays with human lives? Is it right to trust scientists to this task or are there limitations that must be upheld?
Harvard professor, Michael Sandel, discusses the threats such risky scientific liberties can have on society. He warns how similar ideas of the creating the perfect people proliferated through figures such as Adolf Hitler and Margaret Sanger (founder of Planned Parenthood). He states that while they endorsed a more aggressive form of eugenics, or the creation of the perfect human race, that no form of eugenics should be accepted in society. He argues that having high ideals and expectations for children is not realistic and can encourage people to be less able to love them unconditionally. However, this occurs when science, by playing God, encourages such contingencies between parents and children. For what happens when the child does not meet the parents’ expectations? Will they no longer provide the child with self-sacrificing love, as Frankenstein demonstrates? Sandel explains, “[t]he problem of genetic engineering lies in the hubris of the designing parents. Even if this disposition doesn’t make parents tyrants to their children, still it disfigures the relation between parent and child and it deprives the parent of the humility, the human sympathies, and the openness to the unbidden.” Essentially, by science having the ability to make children “to order,” parents potentially lose the openness to accept whatever child comes to them. Additionally, this mindset continues to promote the dehumanization of people and the fostering of the flagrant abortive mentality so widespread. Sandel also adds
What makes us most uneasy about the use of genetic engineering to enhance or to create something, has to do with the fact that the drive to create children of a certain character reflects an aspiration to freedom, mastery, and control, and to exercise our human will and our ability to remake human nature to serve our purposes and satisfy our desires.
Give people some unethical freedom, and they will want more to gratify their selfish interests. Such is the nature of humankind. Unfortunately, despite the ethical dangers associated with this subject, the interest gradually increases among couples and scientists throughout the world. The caveat of Shelley and other professionals is silenced by the glamour of scientific exploration and creative irresponsibility. The societal repercussions these ethically precarious actions will engender are still to be seen, but one hopes that the fate of Frankenstein can be prevented in our world by those who see the threats and fight against their proliferation.
After delving more deeply into the two issues of parental and scientific responsibility and comparing them with the life of Shelley, Frankenstein and modern society, one can better perceive that indeed, there is a significant correlation between these three latter subjects with the two former ethical issues. The question of what Shelley wants to express to her reader can, therefore, be said to express the dangers that threaten society when ethical responsibilities are not upheld, and how Frankenstein’s character speaks to this danger. In truth, people must be accountable for the actions they make and must recognize that individuals cannot act in ways that do not respect the dignity of the human person which all innately deserve. As Frankenstein rightly cautions, “Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example” (Shelley 31). Learn from Frankenstein not to do that which humanity should not, for indeed the world and society are better for it, as Shelley would rightly agree.
(References available upon request)

01 April 2008

Concerning Icons


In modern society, it is challenging for people to comprehend and/or appreciate that sense of sacred Tradition which was preserved and defended by Christians for hundreds of years which they passed down from one generation to the next. However, though it might surprise many in the western world, there still exist those Christians who have not lost this love and respect for sacred Tradition and the importance it has in the life of a Christian. One such group of people call themselves Orthodox Christians and they have been carefully safeguarding and practicing many sacred Traditions which today have nearly forgotten. One such Tradition is that of venerating sacred icons, which entails kissing or praying before holy images. Objectively, it would appear that this simple act of veneration could easily be overlooked as just sentimentality, artistic obsession, or even idolatry. However, upon greater reflection, one will find that not only is the role of the icon essential to the practice of the Orthodox Christian faith, but that it also has a very important theology surrounding it, thus making the icon a far more significant component of the faith than one might assume. The intention of this essay will therefore be to explain icons origins and their function in Orthodox practice to prove that icons are truly elemental to Christianity and are more than mere pieces of ancient artwork.
Before explaining the origin of the icon, however, one must first define what exactly an icon is. For centuries lovely images of Jesus, the Theotokos (or Blessed Virgin Mary), and holy saints and angels were painted or created to decorate the interior of churches throughout the Christian world. These images, whether they were tiles, frescos, mosaics or wall sculptures are all considered icons. By definition, the Greek word είκώυ, or icon, means “likeness,” “image,” or “representation” (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). The Greek word for iconography combines είκώυ with the word γράφειυ, or writing, thus denoting that those who made icons were image writers (New Catholic Encyclopedia). This was such since these artists not only created images, but also told stories through their paintings, mosaics, sculpture, etc. Icons were often used in both the eastern and western churches and served as a tool to lead the faithful towards better understanding the faith through visual art and raise their minds towards the greatest reality; this being God. Yet, to state this alone would be a great oversimplification. Therefore, the first fundamental issue to delve into is the origin of these fascinating pieces of holy artwork.

So where did icons come from? Did people simply create them for nostalgic purposes or was there a more significant purpose for them? Actually, the tradition of icons is rooted in some of the earliest days of Christianity. The proof of the use of icons can be found in archeological findings in places such as Rome and Alexandria that date back to as early as the second century (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). The most notable are those discovered in the catacombs. The catacombs were underground tombs where the Christians performed sacred rites of worship during persecution, most commonly the Eucharistic sacrifice. On the walls of these vast crypts deep within the earth, there were images that reflected Christian beliefs. Some of these images included doves (symbolic for the peace of Christ), the Good Shepherd, the chi ro (the first two letters of the Greek word "Christòs" meaning Christ), the XTHYS ( ichtùs) or fish, the Alpha and Omega (the two Greek letters representing God eternity), and others (Christian Catacombs of Rome, 1997). From these symbols, the Christians saw visual signs that supported their faith and illustrated some of the basic tenets of Christianity. This custom eventually spread throughout Europe after the legalization of Christianity by Emperor Constantine in 313 (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). However, the catacombs are not the first place the Orthodox look to when considering the icon’s origin; indeed, the Orthodox look as far back as 1st century Jerusalem. The name of the artist was Jesus and the image created was His own. The icon referred to here is formally known as “the Holy Face” in the west, or “the icon not made by human hands” in the east (Ouspensky, 1992, p.51). Tradition states that a King Abgar in Edessa requested Christ to visit him to heal him of his leprosy. However, while Christ chose not to visit him, He did send him a piece of cloth which He wiped His face upon that left His sacred impression. Upon Abgar receiving the Christ’s linen cloth the king was immediately healed and veneration for this icon has existed ever since. But, this act of Christ creating an icon of Himself, or more accurately, of the invisible God making an Incarnation of Himself, was for many Orthodox, a major justification for the use of icons and the reason for its emphasis in the Orthodox faith. But the question is why?

Upon the Incarnation of the Word made flesh, the faithful followers of the true God could now be confirmed in their desire to make representations of Him. Formerly, the Old Testament covenant forbade any such manifestation of God or the saints. The book of Deuteronomy illustrates this when it cites God saying:

Beware lest you act corruptly by making a graven image for yourselves, in the form of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any beast that is on the earth…And beware lest you lift up your eyes to heaven, and when you see the sun and the moon and the stars, all the host of heaven, you be drawn away and worship them and serve them…(4:16-19).

This passage makes it apparent that to create icons would be idolatrous and offensive to God and thus sinful. However, to show how this command no longer applied to Christians upon Christ’s coming, Saint John of Damascus in his famous work Concerning Holy Icons, explains Christians must now have a change of perspective on this subject. He contends:

[This passage] is clearly a prohibition of representing the invisible God. But when you see Him, who has no body become man for you, then you will make representations of His human aspect. When the Invisible, having clothed Himself in the flesh, becomes visible, then represent the likeness of Him who has appeared.... When He who, having been the consubstantial Image of the Father, emptied Himself by taking the form of a servant (Phil. 2: 6-7), thus becoming bound in quantity and quality, having taken on the carnal image, then paint and make visible to everyone Him who desired to become visible. Paint His birth from the Virgin, His Baptism in the Jordan, His Transfiguration on Mt. Tabor.... Paint everything with words and colors, in books and on boards (Ouspensky, 1992, p.44).

Furthermore, commenting on the reason for the Old Testament covenant not allowing representations of God, but why now it was acceptable, Russian icon commentator, Leonid Ouspensky, relates that

[the Israelites had] ...a mission consisting in preparing and prefiguring that which was to be revealed in the New Testament. This is why there could be only symbolic prefigurations, revelations of the future. 'The law was not an image,' says St. John of Damascus, 'but it was like a wall which hid the image. The Apostle Paul also says: "The law was but a shadow [skian gar echon o nomos] of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities" (Hebrews 10:1).' In other words, it is the New Testament which is the true image of reality.... That which David and Solomon saw and heard was only prophetic prefigurations of that which was realized in the New Testament (Copple).

Hence, God was not stating not to ever have icons, but to wait until the time of the Incarnation to allow for their reproduction. In short, the icon was to be part of the fulfillment of the old law and therefore, because it was fulfilled, should allow the new law to take precedence and be promoted and observed by all. God wanted this change and thus icons were introduced into the Christian world. But there is still more to be said regarding the significance of these icons.

A second point which Saint John Damascus well perceives is the impact in icon has on the individual. Speaking not from his own opinion, but in the name of holy Tradition, Saint John clarifies one of the essential purposes for the use of icons. He writes:

We who do not see Him [Christ] directly nor hear His words nevertheless listen to these words which are written in books [Bible] and thus sanctify our hearing and, thereby, our soul. We consider ourselves fortunate and we venerate the books through which we hear these sacred works and are sanctified. Similarly, through His image we contemplate the physical appearance of Christ, His miracles, and His passion. This contemplation sanctifies our sight and, thereby, our soul. We consider ourselves fortunate and we venerate this image by lifting ourselves, as far as possible, beyond the physical appearance to the contemplation of divine glory (Ouspensky, 1992, p.48).

Here Saint John Damascus stresses the importance that icons have in the life of an Orthodox believer. Icons are not just pictures the faithful look upon, no, they are also a means of worshipping God Himself. As the Holy Father St. Basil explains, “the honour of the icon passes to the prototype” (Dragas, p.60). The icon is like the vehicle that takes one to their destination. This act of veneration towards the icon can thus lead the individual soul closer to God as they reflect upon whom it is they are looking. For just as people hear the word of God read to them and are sanctified, so too when seeing the holy icons, people are being led towards holy contemplation (Ouspensky, 1992, p.48). As Orthodox writer, Paul Evdokimov explains in his book The Art of the Icon, “these images are drawn statements” (173). He declares that the icon is more than art; it is also the Word offering Himself “for contemplation in the ‘visual theology’ of the icon” (174). This is elemental in the life of an Orthodox Christian since the purpose of life is to come to full union through deification and icons are a medium through which person can enter into this process. Through this “visual theology” that Evdokimov describes, the faithful are able to be drawn to Christ since God can reach a soul not only through hearing the Word, but also through seeing Him in iconic representations.

As we have already explained, the origins of the icon are not insignificant and have great importance for the Orthodox Christian. While the Orthodox recognize that the icon is not only aesthetical, they do not deny the fact that icons are pieces of art. The Orthodox, acknowledging the icon’s multi-functions, wants to ensure that their churches are adorned with the most beautiful images and decorations possible to show their love for God and His Bride, the Church. The distinction here is that they do not love beauty for beauty’s sake, but in truth, for God’s sake. To illustrate this love for the ‘house of God’, there is a hymn chanted on the vigil of the Triumph of Orthodoxy from the Triodion which expresses this reality. The context of this chant involves the celebration of the overthrow of iconoclasm and it reads:

The Church of Christ is now embellished like a bride, having been adorned with icons of holy form; and it calls all together spiritually; let us come and celebrate together joyfully with concord and faith, magnifying the Lord (Cavarnos, 1992, p.30).

To decorate the Church is therefore a sign of one’s love for God. Nevertheless, an Orthodox Christian will never segregate the icon’s beauty from its fundamental purpose; icons must always be used to lead the faithful towards holiness, towards the end of its function, and not simply towards artistic appreciation. Working together, the objective beauty along with the subjective meaning of the icon is meant guide a person into a potentially deeper and higher relationship with God and ultimately divine union with Him.

Therefore, in tracing the icon’s origins and the place it has in the life of an Orthodox, it becomes apparent that the icon is more than ancient art. With the theology and the beauty buried deep within the icon, it is clear that the icon is a truly necessary part of the Orthodox Christian’s belief. From it an individual can come to perceive the truths that the Christian faith contains and open for them a means of both knowing and loving the Incarnate God in a more profound way. Veritably, the icon is one of the most unappreciated traditions which exists in the present world and which will hopefully again take the place of prominence it deserves among Christians of all denominations.