Anyone can write icons, but not everyone should.
That’s the short answer. There’s no ordination for iconographers. You don’t need to be a priest or a monk. Most iconographers throughout history have been laypeople. But writing icons isn’t like painting landscapes or portraits. It’s a liturgical act, a form of prayer, and it requires both technical skill and a life oriented toward God.
Think of it this way. Anyone can stand in church and sing. But we don’t let just anyone lead the choir or chant the Gospel. Why? Because those roles require training, understanding, and a certain spiritual readiness. Icon writing is similar. It’s open to the faithful, but it demands preparation.
What Does Preparation Look Like?
First, you need to be Orthodox. Icons aren’t generic religious art. They’re theology in color, windows into the Kingdom, part of the Church’s liturgical life. An iconographer should be someone who prays, fasts, confesses, receives communion. Someone who knows what the Church teaches and lives within that teaching.
Second, you need training. Icon writing has rules. Not arbitrary ones, but guidelines that have developed over centuries to convey theological truth. The proportions, the colors, the gestures, all of it means something. You can’t just make it up as you go. Most iconographers learn by copying canonical prototypes under the guidance of an experienced teacher. The Antiochian House of Studies offers an iconology concentration that combines theological study with practical preparation. The Antiochian Village runs summer iconography camps for teenagers. These programs exist because you can’t learn this from a YouTube video.
Third, you need the Church’s blessing. Not a formal ordination, but a blessing. Your priest should know you’re doing this. If you’re writing an icon for a church, the priest or bishop needs to bless it before it’s used liturgically. This isn’t bureaucracy. It’s the Church exercising pastoral care, making sure that what’s placed before the faithful for veneration is true and fitting.
The Spiritual Life of the Iconographer
Here’s where it gets personal. Your prayer life affects your work. Icons aren’t just art. They’re sacramental. They mediate grace. When you stand before an icon of Christ and venerate it, you’re encountering Christ himself. That means the person who wrote that icon bears a responsibility.
Ancient iconographers often fasted and prayed before beginning a new icon. Some would go to confession first. This wasn’t superstition. It was recognition that they were doing something holy, something that required humility and repentance. If you approach icon writing as a hobby or a way to make money, you’ve missed the point.
I’m not saying you have to be a saint to write icons. We’re all sinners. But you should be trying. You should be in the struggle. You should be someone who takes the spiritual life seriously, who’s under the guidance of a confessor, who’s rooted in a parish. An iconographer working in isolation, outside the Church’s life, is like a surgeon operating without a license. Technically possible, maybe, but dangerous.
A Word for Inquirers
If you’re reading this and you’re not Orthodox yet, don’t worry. You’re not expected to write icons. But you might be curious about learning. That’s fine. Many people find that studying iconography, its theology, its history, its techniques, deepens their understanding of the faith. If you’re seriously interested, talk to Fr. Michael or one of the other priests at St. Michael. They can point you toward resources or teachers.
But here’s the thing. If you do eventually write an icon, it won’t be because you took a class or read a book. It’ll be because you’ve entered into the life of the Church, because you’ve been baptized and chrismated, because you’ve stood through the Liturgy week after week and let it change you. Icon writing grows out of that life. It’s not separate from it.
So who can write icons? Orthodox Christians who’ve been trained, who live a life of prayer, and who work under the Church’s blessing. That’s a wide door. But it’s still a door, not a free-for-all. And that’s a good thing. Because icons matter too much to treat them casually.
