The Wall Between the Worlds

This icon captivates me.  I've never seen any other Annunciation icon posed in this way.  Before I reflect on why this particular icon is special, though, maybe I should give a little background.

The spiritual center that I have written about before, the Hildegarden, was once a Byzantine Catholic church, St. Michael's.  It was my family's home parish when I was a kid.  Growing up in this church instilled a love of Eastern iconography and chanting that has endured to this day.  My good friend Michelle also grew up in this church, along with her brother Mark who is a gifted cantor.  From time to time, Michelle and Mark will host Byzantine evening prayer and chanting at the Hildegarden to bring back a little of that spirit of St Michael's.  We had one of these evening prayers this past Sunday night, dedicated to Mary the Theotokos: the "God-Bearer".

When I was on my retreat, I had a revelation in prayer about Mary as a model for my own vocation: as a mother to the people I minister to, as a bearer of God's light and hope into the world.  This theme was running throughout Michelle's reflections as we meditated on the icons.  When praying with icons, you allow yourself to relax and be drawn into the image and let it speak to you.  While I was reflecting on this icon in front of me, I noticed something about the way the angel Gabriel and Mary are positioned: their hands are almost touching, with a pillar in between forming a kind of wall that prevents their fingers from meeting.  It brought to mind how often we put up walls between ourselves and God.  Seeing the angel so close reminded me how close God is, if we only let down that wall. 

"The icon has as its purpose to transport us into the realm of spiritual experience, to go beyond our material world, to show us the greatness and perfection of the divine reality that is invisible to us."  (quoted from "A Monastic Journal" by Orthodox Brotherhood of Apostles Saints Peter and Paul,Hong Kong)

This icon in particular shows just how thin the membrane between the material world and the divine reality is.  Another thing that brings this to mind is the way an indoor scene is represented in iconography, by a sheet draped over the walls that allows the golden light to shine through:

"Icons are the visual Theology of the Church. They are windows into Heaven which show what is depicted as it will be in glory at the end of time." - Byzantine Greek iconographer  Domna Papadopoulou

Look at the way the light ray from above penetrates that sheet, penetrates the wall between Gabriel and Mary, and goes right into her.  All our constructions that keep us separated from God are so thin and flimsy.  The gold leaf/paint on icons represents the divine light, and the blue ray shooting out from the blue circle of gold stars shows the Holy Spirit descending (The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you).  Icons do their best to try to depict visually a reality which ultimately is far too big for any canvas or wood panel to hold, for any human brain to imagine.  

This scene is much beloved in scripture and iconography, because there is so much to unpack in it.  But the thing that really stuck with me when meditating on this icon was God's closeness, and God's need for us to allow him in.  We have free will, and God will not force us to do anything.  We have to say yes first.  And once we do, we see how easily the walls we have fashioned crumble down.