The Nativity Icon: The Cave

At the centre of the Nativity icon—and, in fact, an image of Christmas complete in itself—is the stable cave. Within its dark outline, the wonder of the incarnate Christ dwells, along with his mother and a pair of animals. I think it’s fair to say the Nativity icon is especially beautiful within the iconographic canon, but this central section is exceptionally so. It is full of wonder and tenderness, joy and humour, prophecy and sorrow.

When considering this part of the icon, perhaps the first aspect that will strike someone more used to a Christmas creche is the dark emptiness that outlines its cave instead of the warmth of a wooden barn framing it. While those used to seeing the Nativity in an icon won’t expect anything different, the cave is a striking departure from the beloved and homely surroundings provided by a farm setting. I struggled with this. And, even with the work finished, can still imagine a humble wooden stable in place of the earth of the cave. However, the tradition of the church (going back to at least the 2nd century) was that Jesus Christ was born as a baby in a stable cave. While this is likely to have been historically accurate given the region of Bethlehem and their use of such caves to house their animals historically, its presence is far more meaningful and true in the symbolism it embodies.

While the whole icon gives the impression at first of being quite a party, the more one looks and considers it, the more a sense of stillness becomes unmistakable amid its revelry. This feeling of quiet is so pervasive that I believe every good artwork inspired by Christmas events reflects some aspect of it. However, the icon reveals the stillness resounding with the angel’s pronouncement of peace on earth, showing its ultimate end and mystery—the death of God’s son. In this way, the icon artistically juxtaposes this cave of Christmas with that of the sepulchre. Just as they laid the body of Jesus Christ in a cave after his crucifixion, so at his birth, we see him within a cave’s dark outline. Just as people placed the Lord of Life in a sepulchre, a second look at the icon’s manger reveals a dual perspective, hinting that this trough will become a tomb. Just as they wrapped the King of Glory in a shroud of death, in the icon of the Nativity, we see the foreshadowing that those swaddling clothes prophecies about this baby. In this way, the stable cave is the first of three elements found in the icon’s centre that become symbols reinforcing each other’s meaning.

In responding to this icon’s proclamation of peace, coupled with its profound sorrow, Mary, the Mother of God, figures prominently in her contemplation. In fact, Mary is by far the largest figure in the icon, drawing her close to us and extending to us a place by her side to witness and experience the events of Christmas. The icon presents her, reclining in rest, as both a humble teenage mother and the queen of creation, its new Eve. Her plain, earthly brownish-red cloak is radiant along its edges with divine gold lines. She reclines—in an informal half-seated, half-laying down position of any woman at rest—but does so on a royal red pillow reserved for a queen. But it is her feet that perhaps most poignantly depict her station in this icon … Barefooted simplicity characterizes every man and woman—and I daresay even the angels (though their feet are hidden behind the hills of Bethlehem)—amid the swirling events around this stable the Queen of Heaven alone is ennobled in her royal vermilion slippers.

“The ox knoweth his lord, and the ass his master’s crib.”
—Isaiah 1:3, after the King James Version

I also love the prominent placement of the ox and ass in the traditional Nativity icon. While saints such as John Chrysostom have preached eloquently about their symbolizing the hope of the Jewish and Gentile peoples fulfilled in this scene, I love their absurd dominance and the hope it represents. While outside the cave, shepherds sang their praises and wise men presented kingly gifts, inside (and close enough for a cow to lick or a donkey to nuzzle him) the long-hoped-for Messiah is fulfilled in the presence of two unassuming beasts. In this icon, our wonder is best symbolized by these two, and the hope held by countless generations beforehand is present.

Lastly, the dark ring of the stable cave that we first considered offers one more moment’s reflection if we’ll let it. While its black line completely outlines the scene, breaking through and cutting through its gloom is the glory of heaven. The light of the star—sent to lead all peoples to find the Christ child—sunders the empty cosmos, and the glory of God enters it. The coming of Jesus Christ forever breaks that dark ring, and a new creation alive with God’s energies begins to shine.