A sixth century icon showing John the Baptist from The Bohdan and Varvara Khanenko Museum of Arts, Kiev, Ukraine.
The icon is painted in the encaustic method on panel. This is the method of early icons where pigment is suspended in beeswax and applied to the wooden panel by brush. The icon is a medium sized panel c.18 in x 10 in.
Looking at an icon we search for the relationship between divinity and humanity that is revealed through the volume and plasticity of movement as the figures become alive for the viewer. Additional truth is achieved by emotional drama and gesture as we see in the raised hands of the Baptist whose left leg is moving powerfully towards the viewer whilst his face and attention is towards Christ to his right in the the higher register. The emotional drama of this moment is heightened by the strong rhythms of the Baptist's hair and cloak. The expressiveness of his face, hands and pose combines with the physicality of the icon to affect our emotional and spiritual knowledge. The early Byzantine classical style makes a deep impression on our emotional/spiritual knowledge with its direct appeal to our senses and this is a deliberate method that draws the viewer beyond what we can see, touch, hear, smell and taste into a mystical "unknowing" where God can begin to speak to us.
The icon is worn and damaged and nail holes remain from a lost frame that has also damaged the left and right edges. The extensive loss of pigment reveals paint laid on board with no ground preparation. This is unusual and it appears as though the icon writer/painter had a powerful image in mind and just set it out then and there in a rush with no prior preparation on the panel. Splits in the wood may also be seen. These vertical cracks are mostly on the surface with one large crack running the length of the panel. The reverse side of the panel is rough and unfinished which suggests the speed of its production and a possible low budget.
John the Baptist wears a mantle (himation) of animal skin over his golden tunic (chiton) which is fixed and buckled by a heavy leather belt. The sandals on his feet together with the strong Hellenic-style shadowing of the tunic complete this unusual presentation of the Baptist and portray him as a strong and powerful wilderness figure with a turbulent message. In the Byzantine church John the Baptist is considered the last and greatest of the Old Testament prophets and is remembered as being called by Christ: the "Elijah who is to come"(Matt 11:14). He is the "prodromos", the forerunner of Christ.
The two medallions in the higher register are of Christ and Mary, the Mother of God. St John the Forerunner points with his right hand to the medallion of Christ whilst the barely remaining scroll unrolled in his left hand reads: "Behold the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world" (John 1:29), and through the mediation of John's words, the glory and presence of God is with us now. His message is stark and clear. God is always willing to offer more and to give more. To forgive our shadows and enable our light to shine out. We are called to come out from our own deserts this Advent to be washed white and to learn how to reflect the Divine presence in our everyday lives.
The icon is a sacred text that leads the viewer into the silence of the desert where Christ becomes our question more than our answer. Who is he for me and when will he come? In the Byzantine mind the Word (Logos) writes the icon and writes us as divine and human wisdom and energies are held transfigured in the compassion and humanity of the Incarnation.
We have to be curious and resilient in order to keep looking into the icon as we are led into gazing with our contemplative eye to our inner desert where the icon begins to question us. The gift given is a transformation of consciousness and I begin to dare to trust that in Jesus' eyes I am blessed and good. The question that we are asking ourselves today is how do we recognize this and how does this become real for us in our ordinary lives. John left his family and village to go out into the vast silence of the desert wastes where scrubland gives way to the poverty of a bleached sand that does nothing except reflect the sun's heat. I think that we are called to find this same poverty and emptiness within ourselves during Advent and to want nothing except to reflect the Divine light for others. But what a huge task this is and how I fail! So, how do I find my inner emptiness so that I can be present for God to fill me. Do I trust the deep silence of the desert?
The overriding narrative of Genesis and of Christ has to become our story and John the Baptist, in accord with the Old Testament prophets, awakens us to the urgency of the work we must do:
"But take courage now, Zerubbabel, it is the Lord who speaks. Courage High Priest, Joshua son of Jehozadak! Courage - all you people of the country! - it is the Lord who speaks. To work! I am with you - it is the Lord of Hosts who speaks - and my spirit remains among you. Do not be afraid! For the Lord of Hosts says this: A little while now, and I am going to shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. I will shake all the nations, and the treasures of all the nations shall flow in, and I will fill this Temple with Glory says the Lord of Hosts . . ." (From Haggai 1:15-2:9).
The lights and shadows on the Baptist's tunic are echoes of those in our own lives. He is crying out for us to listen for the voice of the Lord and to listen to how the Lord will lead us into his light this Advent. Now is the right time for us for us to be trembling and energized and awake as something is being prepared for us and will happen to us, within us, this Advent. A new beginning.
It leads me to realize that I need to get in touch with the free gift and goodness of my own life and the purpose of the gift of my life. A desire for the absolute is within all of us as we long to reveal our deepest desires. In this we begin with a foundational yes to the original blessing of who we are and what is and gradually we are given the strength to live on the thresholds and in the liminal places which are our deserts. This is where everything is experienced as gift, and is often surprising as our individuality no longer holds us, and we become one grain of sand together with all the grains of desert sand. Maybe we discover that this one-ness reflects our deepest desire.
Together with this panel painting we are worn with paint missing and ragged chips on our edges. Some of our cracks run painfully throughout our histories and we long for these wounds to be healed and made new. The broken wood of this simple icon that holds the Baptist joined with Jesus and his mother encourages us to a deep and profound trust that we are similarly held.
