The writings of the icons

We know that iconography itself is a form of "writing," or rather, a "transcription" of Sacred Scripture—that is, the Word of God contained in the Bible—in lines, shapes, and colors. Yet icons also contain inscriptions, without which the icon cannot be considered "complete." They vary, but they all serve the purpose of uniting the image with the reality it depicts.
For example, when icons depict episodes, there is usually a text that explains the event, like a title.

Even more essential, however, is the inscription of the name of the person depicted, as in icons of Christ, the Virgin Mary, or the saints or specific figures from Sacred Scripture. Here, the function is no longer merely "explanatory" but becomes a prayer, an invocation.
Writing the name of Christ – usually abbreviated to IC XC, which from Ancient Greek and then Cyrillic stands for Ιησούς Χριστός (Jesus Christ), from which the first and last letters of each word are taken – means that the image depicted represents him and contains the enormous value of being able to “call the person by name,” that is, the possibility of having a direct relationship with him, of being able to dialogue, speak with him face to face. We know that the name of God in the entire Bible could not be written or pronounced; in Jesus we have a powerful name that we can call, invoke to ask for help, to thank him, to dialogue with our God who in him became man, visible, tangible, audible, who, if you wished, could also come to your home. Writing the name of Jesus Christ on the icon, near him, therefore means invoking his presence, calling him, seeking him, while praying before the image. All other icons take shape from the icon of Christ, and it is the model of models. Therefore, writing Mary's name also unites the image with the real, living Mother of God and invokes her for those who pray before the icon. In ancient icons, Mary's name is also in Greek, abbreviated as ΜΡ θΥ, literally "Mother of God." Similarly, in icons or frescoes depicting the apostles, prophets, or various saints, their names are written and therefore invoked.

There is one last situation where we find written text in iconography: in the book—when open—that Jesus holds in his hand in the icon where he is depicted as Pantocrator.
In it, we find a verse from the Gospel, usually taken from Jesus' own words; the choice varies based on the icon's liturgical function or the commissioner's intentions.

Once again, icons teach us to pray, to enter into confidence with our Lord, to stay, to give Him time, and to have the confidence to be able to call Him by name, not out of disrespect, but out of a need for love, which if it does not enter into confidence, into intimacy with the loved one, does not mature as a warm, living love, but remains cold, in the third person, detached, and everything to which it does not hold fast will soon be abandoned.

The 12th-century open book of the Pantocrator, preserved in the monastery of Saint Catherine of Sinai.
From Ancient Greek: "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12). In this case, as in the title inscriptions, the language used is very often Ancient Greek, sometimes mixed with Slavonic, or even Cyrillic. In itself, there is no single language designated a priori for this role; the language can vary based on the geographical location, as long as it is the liturgical language. Let us not forget that icons were born as instruments of prayer and as means of catechesis: "The icon is to the illiterate what the Bible is to the learned," said John of Damascus, "for the individual, for the family, but also for the Church, for the diocese, for the people, and therefore the language had to be the liturgical one. Today, when the liturgical language usually coincides with the spoken language, the inscriptions on icons can be in the local dialect.

Chiara Dal Corso
NP October 2025