image: a representation that not only resembles its original but actually brings it to presence
An eikon is never just a picture. In ordinary Greek the word covered a portrait, a statue, or the head stamped on a coin, but in every case it carried a heavier idea than mere likeness: an image stands in for its original and makes it present. When a Roman city set up the emperor's image in its marketplace, people did not see a reminder of a distant ruler; they treated it as the ruler himself, present and demanding honor. That is the thread running through every use of the word in the Bible.
That is why the same word can do such different jobs. It names the portrait on a coin and the idol in a temple, the carved image of the beast that the book of Revelation says people are forced to worship, and, at the other extreme, Christ as the image of the invisible God. In each case the image carries the presence and the claim of whatever it represents.
- The coin carries Caesar's authority
- the idol pretends to carry a god's
- the beast's image concentrates the worship owed to the dragon behind it
- Christ truly carries and reveals the unseen God
The word also describes people. Drawing on the opening of Genesis, where humanity is made in God's image, the New Testament writers speak of human beings as:
- bearing an image
- distorting it through idolatry
- being remade into the image of Christ
The recurring claim is that no one is imageless: the only question is whose image a person carries, and what that image is shaping them into.
One striking stretch of usage pushes the word all the way to its limit, where the image is not a copy of the reality but the reality itself, set against a mere shadow.