Idols vs. Icons: A Theology of Zoom Calls

I’ve been living in a box for the last three months. You know what box I’m talking about: that Zoom box. Seeing people in these Zoom boxes has become a defining image of this season for me. And I worry that I sometimes forget that each person is their own flesh and blood reality. They are not just images in a box, on a screen.

And this makes me reflect on the distinction the Church has made between idols and icons.

An idol is something or someone that you look at and it absorbs all your attention.

For example, in the Scriptures idols were lifeless inanimate statues or figurines that represented lifeless and powerless false gods. People would worship and bow down to these, offering up valuables like their crops or even their own blood.

In our modern context we too have idols. Ever heard of that little show… American Idol? In popular culture we idolize celebrities, athletes, musicians, entrepreneurs. Oh, and even church leaders.

Remember, the whole point of an idol is that it consumes all your attention, and even devotion.

But then there are icons. Especially in the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions, icons are popular and powerful avenues to help lead us in prayer and worship of God. In the image above is an icon that I treasure. It’s an Icon of Christ and I place it on my desk every day when working and when I am on Zoom calls with people from our church.

And here’s the difference between an idol and an icon.

Idols you look at.

Icons you look through.

You know something or someone is an icon and not an idol, when they ultimately lead you to look through them to God and help you worship and acknowledge God.

So, why am I drawing attention to this?

Because Zoom calls are weary. Sometimes it feels like people are idols to me, in that (and this is a knock against me not them) they can feel a little less real, inanimate, not flesh and blood. That’s just the nature of video calls.

And yet, I’ve noticed something startling in these Zoom calls too: each box, each person I’m looking at, is an icon of Christ. We are even framed like traditional icons (and depending on the lighting, I swear I’ve even seen some folks have halos).

And therein lies the beauty: this icon of Christ on my desk, sits next to these icons of Christ on my screen. Christ meets me everywhere I look.

She, is the face of Christ. He, is the face of Christ. We, are the body of Christ.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I too pray as Paul does to see one another “face to face” (1 Thessalonians. 3:10). In person, in the flesh. That’s what I long for. But in the meanwhile, maybe this box I’ve been living in isn't a box, but a window for Christ to shine.