Icons for Advent: a different way to pray

Friday, Dec. 05, 2014

I didn’t want to go. An hour’s drive on a cold, rainy Saturday morning just to sit and listen to speaker after speaker held no appeal, especially because there were bills to pay, a bathroom to clean, and laundry to do.

But I’d agreed to meet some friends at Saint Mary Parish in West Haven, and I’d promised myself that this liturgical year I’m going to properly celebrate the life of the Church. What better way to do that than a pre-Advent retreat? So I got in the car, muttering that what I should be doing was my chores, then curl up with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa. A nap didn’t sound half-bad, either.

Along about Clearfield it occurred to me that I was headed to an Advent retreat, and Advent – the Church’s season of preparation, of joyful expectation, of looking forward with anticipation – deserves a positive attitude.

To develop that frame of mind, I spent the rest of the drive thanking God for his gifts. By the time I got to the church I was prepared to listen, and the first thing I heard Mary Helen Strickland say was that Jesus had called me (and everyone else in the pews) by name that day. Then she mentioned an attitude of gratitude, and suggested that we ask ourselves “What is the best that I can give my God?”

I couldn’t decide whether to squirm or pat myself on the back. An hour earlier I’d almost ignored Christ’s call, and I’d had to fight to be grateful. On the other hand, I had devoted half my day to developing my faith. 

I knew I could have given God better, though, so I tried to be open to the other speakers’ messages. Several of them focused on the theme of hope. This is a concept I struggle with. On a planet overflowing with death and drought and famine and despair, I sometimes feel there is no good news. However, when Father Gustavo Vidal talked about the Virgin Mary, I realized that her story received no attention while she lived. She bore a child who grew to be the savior of the world, but what the world cared about then was Caesar. It’s the same today: The quiet people who live their faith by doing God’s will rarely gain the spotlight, even though their deeds sow hope among us.

While the other speakers made the retreat worth going to, what really resonated with me was Julie Boerio-Goates’ presentation on icons. She offered a quote from Jim Forest, author of Praying with Icons, that struck me: “An icon is an instrument for the transmission of the Christian faith, no less than the written word. Through sacred imagery, the Holy Spirit speaks to us, revealing truths beyond the reach of words. …”

As a writer, I’m well aware of the power of words. I know equally well their inability to convey the experience of God. Even Jesus was reduced to parables, similes and metaphors to describe God and heaven.

Icons, on the other hand, can express realities that “infinitely transcend the world,” Julie said, and had us contemplate an image ourselves.

Although I didn’t transcend anything, I expect that this type of prayer requires practice before any sort of result is evident. I did find I was better able to focus than when I pray with words; I tend to play games with synonyms, rhythms and meanings.

During Advent, I plan to continue contemplating icons; I would like to discover whether they can lead me, as Henri J.M. Nouwen wrote in Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons: “into the inner room of prayer and bring us close to the heart of God.”