`Ponder These Things: Praying with Icons of the Virgin' is the latest book by Rowan Williams, recently appointment to be Archbishop of Canterbury after a distinguished career as an academic and cleric in the Church of England (Anglican Church). Williams has a great affinity for the wider breadth of Christian experience, drawing influences and inspiration from Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox practices across the centuries. In this book, which is introduced by Bishop Kalistos Ware, a prominent Orthodox theologian, Williams explores ways in which meditation and prayer can be strengthened and enhanced with incorporation of iconographic images.

Protestants particularly have lost the tradition of the use of art work as representative objects for worship. However, the debate over the appropriateness of icons and other imagery is almost as old as Christianity itself. That Jesus could be depicted without violation of the `no graven images' commandment took a long time to be decided, and finally was deemed permissible because of Jesus' human nature. Rare the depiction of God or God the Father as anything more than a cloud, a hand, or some other vague symbol meant to characterise, more than anything else, the mystery involved rather than an actual physical likeness. Michaelangelo's depictions on the Sistine Chapel ceiling are remarkable not simply from their aesthetic quality, but also in that the image of God is very direct and distinctly human in form.

However, icons are a special form of art. They are not simple paintings, however elegant, as Ware points out in his introduction.

`The icon is not simply a work of art on the same level as any other work of art. On the contrary, the icon exists within a specific context; and, if divorced from that context, it ceases to be truly itself. The icon is part of an act of worship; its context is invocation and doxology. The art of the icon is a liturgical art. In the tradition of the Orthodox church, the icon is not merely a piece of decoration or a visual aid. We do more than just look at icons or talk about them; we pray with them.'

Williams draws his work from an event in his own ministry back in Britain.
`These meditations are really about how we are led by faith both to live in the world, fully flesh and blood in it, and at the same time to be aware of the utter strangeness of God that waits in the heart of what is familiar - as if the world were always on the edge of some total revolution, pregnant with a different kind of life, and we were always trying to catch the blinding momentary light of its changing.'

Using three traditional icons and one modern piece, Williams draws us into a method of contemplation and consideration with the icons. The Hodegetria, the Eleousa, and the Orans traditional icons show depictions of the Virgin Mary in very traditional ways; one who is faithful, who is loving, who is sign and a direction of the way we are to go. Traditionally the Virgin Mary is the first human being to have faith in Jesus, faith in his mission and faith in God's direction of that purpose. The Magnificat is a verbal depiction of this kind of faith; icons are the visual depiction. As the scriptural text talks about Mary `pondering these things in heart', so to are we called, when praying with the icons, to exhibit that kind of faith and loving nature, sureness of God's call and direction to us, whatever it may bring.

The modern piece is not what one would consider an icon in the regular sense. Using a modern art scarlet and purple fabric study by Leigh Hurlock, Williams explores a legend of Mary, the story of her weaving the sanctuary veil, a curtain that separated the Holy of Holies from the eyes and physical presence of those who came into the Temple. In a sense, Mary's being provided the substance to weave both the veil and the way to see past the veil to holiness through Jesus.

Purple is the colour of royalty; scarlet is the colour of martyrdom, or the cross. The colours are significant, as are the images, in making the completeness of the experience as an iconographic piece.

This is a small book. It has a mere 75 pages or so of text, and thus could be read fairly quickly. However, to do so would be to deny oneself the richness of the experience. One can glance at an icon, generally a fairly small object, and think one has seen it. However, the true experience of an icon, and the true experience of this book, comes from re-reading, stopping, meditating, and slowly working through each detail. The book is generously illustrated in word and graphic art. Each of the icons is presented in full colour, with details highlighted in larger size at appropriate points in the text.

Through all the meditations, we are looking for God, and hopefully come to realise that God also looks for us.

`We find the God who has taken up residence in the heart of our humanity, who prays when we are not looking, not trying, who is at work when we are silent or helpless, and who can never be pinned down to a here or there in our individual lives or in the Church at large.'

Ponder these things...