Window to another reality.

There is a growing interest in icons and icon painting, amongst people of all denominations and people of no faith. I believe this is more than a fashion trend. People are tired of empty materialism and intrigued by the spiritual depth of icons, often unable to explain why.

Personally, I was also ill at ease about some developments within my own denomination and felt a need to learn more about the Christian church before it split into its Eastern and Western parts nearly 1,000 years ago. When one is searching for a way forward, it helps to know where we have come from. I practically stumbled over the icon milieu of Finland, where I, a Norwegian, have been living since I married a Finn 11 years ago.

The Orthodox Christians have been guardians of a tradition which belongs to us all. The apostle Luke was the first icon painter, according to legend. Painting icons is the best way to learn about them and their roots. I am part of a group which works together on Saturdays at a new Orthodox church near my home in Helsinki. Sometimes we travel six hours to seminars at the New Valamo Monastery in East Finland, to which our group is linked.

One begins to see the differences between icons representing traditions from specific areas, as well as the overlappings between them. The Byzantine painters travelled widely in those early centuries. Having myself struggled to make a drawing of the extraordinary Vladimir Mother of God (13th century, now hanging in Moscow) I was thrilled to see a mirror picture of her face in a beautiful Georgian 11th century Angel Gabriel.

Finns from the country's Eastern borders have been Orthodox for 1,000 years and are influenced by the Novgorod school of icons, which developed in the 14th century. It is softer than the contemporary Greek style and, some say, more spiritual. Incidentally, it was in the original Viking city of Novgorod that the Norwegian king and saint, Olav, took a few years' sabbatical when my countrymen rebuffed his efforts to make them officially Christian. Believers in Novgorod may have helped him to become more humble; when he returned home he succeeded in his endeavour--before being killed in 1030 by farmers who worshipped the Norse god Odin.

If you disregard the life source of icons you cannot fully grasp what they are about. Icons were an effort to crystallize Christian thought. An image was necessary. Indeed how can you express in words alone the light of the resurrection? In Orthodox church services icons play a part alongside the spoken liturgy and music.

We are learning to let the light be the main element in the painting. In icons as in life the darkness of evil kills communication. Just as when you perform music, as icon painter you do not create, you interpret on the basis of tradition and liturgy. No icon can mediate something which is lacking in the life and consciousness of the painter. There is always harmony in truth, therefore the basic drawing must be harmonious.

The written and spoken word on its own often reaches the brain more than the heart. And the brain is man's best weapon for control. A good icon imposes nothing, not even itself. For the listening heart it opens a window to another reality and eventually to deeper insight about ourselves. That gives a basis for communication.

A need for dialogue is already the mark of this new Millennium; between East and West, between the continents, between people of different faiths and ethnic backgrounds. The guardians of our icon traditions have much to contribute.