How the Core Imagery in Your Domestic Church Should Differ from a Parish Church

In the book The Little Oratory, my co-author Leila Lawler and I describe the traditional layout for images at the core of those in an icon corner or domestic church. The schema is as follows: Our Lady with Our Lord on the left, Christ on the Cross in the center, and the Risen Christ (a Mandylion, Christ in Majesty or Blessing Christ), on the right.

The one above uses traditional iconographical art. Although it is called an icon coner (or “image corner”), it doesn’t have to have icons. A standing crucifix and art in any of the Western traditional styles will work just as well. The logic is that we have a summary of salvation history symbolized here: the historical Christ on the left, with His Mother, from whom He took His humanity, then the passion and death of Our Lord, and then Christ in heaven. We live with him, die with him and are raised up with him by “putting on Christ” as St Paul refers to it in Galatians 3, 27, through baptism, confirmation, and communion.

I first found about this when I read a book called Earthen Vessels - The Practice of Personal Prayer According to Patristic Tradition written by Gabriel Bunge, who was a Swiss Benedictine monk. 

I had always assumed that this should be the basic layout in our parish churches too. To a certain extent, this is correct. However, I noticed that even in Eastern Rite/Byzantine Catholic churches, which are typically more concerned about following this tradition than Roman Catholic churches, the schema is not always followed precisely. 

Sometimes, in the icon screen, the central cross is absent, or if it is there at all it is tiny, barely noticeable, and sometimes even with Christ not present on the cross.

I had often wondered why ths might be, given the evident importance of the passion, which it seemed to be downplayed so much. 

Recently it was explained to me. When the Royal Doors are opened for Divine Liturgy, the altar will be visible and the liturgy will be taking place. The death and resurrection is being played out in front of us; in other words, the events that link the left image to the right are happening before our eyes. The altar represents not just the place of sacrifice, but also the body of Christ being sacrificed.

In the Roman Rite, we have more of a tradition of churches with images of the crucifixion, of course; if done well, this can be used to reinforce our understanding of what is happening in front of us. If the crucifixion is placed so to as to connect very obviously and visually with the celebration of Mass at the altar, the same message is communicated. 

What we are seeing here is that both Rites are concerned with the communication of the importance of the Passion visually, but choose to emphasize its importance in different ways.

In the domestic church, there is no celebration to observe; we are the ones praying the liturgy so there is great merit to having a crucifixion prominently placed.

The Central Point in the History of Mankind

Mikhail Vasilievich Nesterov, Crucifixion (1908)

THE DEATH OF A GOD, dying for the salvation of men, is the central point in the history of mankind. All ages bear witness to and converge towards it: the preceding centuries point to its coming, the others are destined to harvest its fruits.

The death of Christ is the centre of history, and also the centre of the life of each man in particular. In the eyes of God every man will be great in proportion as he takes part in that deed; for the only true and eternal dignity is that belonging to the divine Priest. The degree of each one’s holiness will be in exact proportion as he participates in that bloody immolation. For the Lamb of God alone is holy.

But although Jesus Christ the divine High Priest appeared only once on earth, to offer up His great sacrifice on Calvary; yet, every day He appears in the person of each one of His ministers, to renew His sacrifice on the altar. In every altar, then, Calvary is seen: every altar becomes an august place, the Holy of holies, the source of all holiness. Thither all must go to seek Life, and thither all must continually return, as to the source of God’s mercies.

Those who are the Master’s privileged ones, never leave this holy place, but there they “find a dwelling,” near to the altar, so that they never need go far from it; such are monks, whose first care it is to raise temples worthy to contain altars. Making their home by the Sanctuary, they consecrate their life to the divine worship, and every day sees them grouped around the altar for the holy sacrifice. This is the event of the day, the centre to which the Hours, like the centuries, all converge: some as Hours of preparation and awaiting in the recollection of the divine praise — these begin with Lauds and Prime continued by Terce, the third Hour of the day; the others, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline, flow on in the joys of thanksgiving until sunset when the monks chant the closing in of night.

Thus the days of life pass, at the foot of the altar; thus the life of man finds its greatness and its holiness in flowing out, so to say, upon the altar, there to mingle with that Precious Blood which is daily shed in that hallowed place: for, if the life of man is as a valueless drop of water, when lost in the Blood of Christ it acquires an infinite value and can merit the divine mercy for us.

He who knows what the altar is, from it learns to live; to live by the altar is to be holy, pleasing to God, — and to go up to the altar to perform the sacred Mysteries is to be clothed upon with the most sublime of all dignities after that of the Son of God and His holy Mother.

Meditation by Dom Pius de Hemptinne (1879–1907), a discipline of Dom Columba Marmion.

Three-Dimensional Wooden Crucifix Icon by Francis Koerber

I received a note from the multifaceted artist Francis Koerber of Jackson, Wyoming, concerning a project he recently completed: an interpretation, in three dimensions, of the traditional Byzantine crucifixion scene, using woods and paints. Here is the completed work:

The woods utilized are, back, quarter sawn oak; crucifix, Brazilian cherry; corpus; quarter sawn oak; hair and beard, walnut; halo, cherry; loincloth, poplar; Mary: outer garment, walnut; inner garment, cherry; hand and shoes, light cherry; St. John: cherry, hair, walnut; headplate and footplate, cherry. The colors of the wood are all natural; Koerber does not use paints or stains (the only paint is the crimson blood). A clear coating of Tung oil brings out the subtleties of the color and grain of the wood simply by accentuating what is already there.

On one of Koerber's many websites, Teton Craftworks, he shares with the reader the process of putting together this icon. I will post only a few of the photos here; the rest may be viewed there.

The artist wrote the following to me:

My basic philosophy on Catholic Art is that I value the tradition of iconography from the Byzantine (Russian and Greek) schools. In my opinion, the religious art from the Middle Ages and beyond fell into the decay of anthropomorphism, which for me, presents more of an opaque view into spiritual realities. I prefer the transparent view of those earlier styles which allows one to see ‘through’ the artwork into the spiritual realm. For me, it is a purer art form. This is not a hard and fast rule because you can certainly find wonderful works of sacred art that aren’t a part of those early traditions, but in general, I believe it is true. I think this ideology also mirrors the anthropomorphism of the liturgy, where the music has also become opaque, the end of its own means, and is heavily marked by a sense of time and gravity (Mozart for instance) that weighs one down. The polyphony of the earlier years maintains the same artistic transparency of the iconography of the East.

This account from Koerber largely parallels that given by Ratzinger in The Spirit of the Liturgy when he defends the suitability of Byzantine, Gothic, and (to a lesser extent) Baroque styles for sacred visual art, and severely critiques the Renaissance. In the sphere of music, as Koerber notes, we would have to say that medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque music are better suited for the liturgy and for prayer than the later Classical and Romantic styles. David Clayton also goes into these topics in his book The Way of Beauty, which we use at Wyoming Catholic College as one of our texts for the Visual Arts in the Western Tradition course that all seniors take.

This admirable wooden icon is available for purchase; please contact Francis Koerber if you are interested or if you would like to discuss a commission.

You can find out more about Francis Koerber's creative activities at his main website. He has a composer website (I particularly love his A minor prelude and fugue for organ), a performer website, and a site for fine handmade rosaries, among others.