I often get the question, “what does this or that element in an icon symbolize.” I find it difficult to answer these questions not because I do not know what the element in question signifies; but because I believe the question itself often represents a fundamental misunderstanding of how icons communicate. Icons are not esoteric, but exoteric, they do not seek to conceal their subject matter but reveal it. There are symbols used in icons, but their usage is actually quite limited. Icons and symbols are not synonymous but operate according to a very different logic. A symbol points to what it signifies but does not necessarily resemble it. The link is conceptual and often obscure or even arbitrary. The symbol (from the Greek σύμβολον: σύν—‘together’ + βάλλω ‘to bring’ or ‘to put’) brings two often disparate things together. We do have symbols in Christianity to be sure. Christ is symbolized by a lamb in Scripture and early Christian art, the cross can be symbolized by an anchor, and of course the fish symbol. But these connections between symbol and referent are conceptual, and in the case of the fish, purely linguistic. Thus symbols often do need to be “decoded.” You have to learn a symbolic language to interpret the symbols.
Icons use a different logic of visual communication, they ‘depict’ their referent and in so doing have some kind of intrinsic likeness. This was discussed in great detail by the Fathers, particularly St. Theodore the Studite who was one of the chief exponents of the theology of the icon. For St. Theodore, the icon is fundamentally distinct from a symbol; it uses material creation to communicate something about the divine, but not in the same way as the sacramental mysteries which really are what they symbolize. The Bread and Wine of the Eucharistic Gifts are the Body and Blood of Christ. Bread and wine do have intrinsic symbolic and conceptual potency that aids us in understanding what the Eucharist means in the life of the Church and in our life in Christ, thus these elements are not arbitrary or dispensable. But, the Eucharistic reality—the Risen Christ given to us as sustenance—supersedes and is not dependent upon any such analogical potential of the elements. No, it is not a relationship of analogical dependence; rather, two unlikenesses are brought together by the power of the Holy Spirit and the symbol literally becomes what it symbolizes. In contrast, the language of icons is referential, not symbolic, and as the Fathers make clear, sacramental (in so far as they are incarnational) but not on the same direct level as the Eucharist. They depict those realities but do not become them. They invite and occasion a noetic communion, but always remain
humble mediators.
That is not to say that what an icon communicates is always obvious. The manor of depiction used in icons is not intended to be some kind of photographic likeness or historicism, but rather a referential likeness that can be developed into a conventional iconographic language. Thus often one does have to become familiar with the historical circumstances in which this language originated. For example, it is good to know a bit about Byzantine court cérémonial so you can properly interpret Christ’s royal accouterment or that of the angels. Likewise, the whole gestural language used in icons is often opaque to modern viewers who no longer understand this embodied language of antiquity. But the point is, even these somewhat obscure elements were not intended to be obscure but were perfectly intelligible to their original viewers. We find them obscure because history has changed and we no longer understand the literal referent.
Icons themselves are not symbolic. And when they use symbols, they typically do so indirectly, deriving that symbolism secondarily from the literary sources they depict in visualization. For example, the halo is a conventional symbol, but it depicts the glory of God that surrounds and envelopes holy personages described throughout Scripture and ecclesiastical literature. Likewise with angel wings and other such devices. If you go looking, you can find symbols in icons, but invariably these derive from Scriptural or hymnographic imagery the icon is depicting rather literally. Icons, unlike symbols, do not need to be “decoded,” and there is no “hidden” imagery or meanings.
The gulf that can make them obscure is not because they are esoteric, but because we do not have the necessary grounding in the cultural referent the icon depicts. One does not need to learn to read an icon, but rather, read Scripture, go to the Church services with their rich and layered hymns replete with imagery and one will soon begin to understand what the icon communicates rather directly. There is no antimony or more to the point, autonomy between conceptual, audio, or visual communication in Orthodoxy. The Faith uses all of these means to communicate to the faithful in their human totality. When viewing an icon, we should not over-read it, importing extrinsic meanings born of piety or imagination into the icon, overburdening this or that detail with intrinsic significance, and making the icon communicate something other than it intends…something other than the normative content of the Orthodox tradition. The Church throughout history has counteracted this tendency. Rather, we should use as our guide that principle of the Antiochian exegetes of Scripture who helped to stem certain harmful excesses of more allegorical interpretations of the Bible:
A more-than literal meaning must rest upon and grow organically out of the literal meaning for it to be an authentic interpretation.
None of this means that icons are blasé or mundane. No, iconography is a nuanced and esthetically sophisticated visual language. But it operates according to a logic of disclosure, it is the exoteric communication not of an esoteric doctrine, but the ineffable mystery that simply fills and surpasses all understanding, the Mystery of God and His Communion with mankind in the God-Man Christ Jesus.