If you’ve spent any time in the social-media galaxy of Christian cultural commentators, you have almost definitely run across the Latin phrase Imago Dei. It means image of God. Why they usually say it in Latin, I couldn’t tell you.
We saw it in the wake of the George Floyd and Jacob Blake killings. It shows up in discussions of social justice. It shows up in discussions about LGBT issues, redressing past wrongs, and in pro-life advocacy. But in virtually every instance, the expression is called upon in order to emphasize the dignity and inherent value of every person. This is the dominant application we seem to want to make of it. How tragic and enraging that a precious “image-bearer” would be so de-humanized! That’s the sentiment everyone seems anxious to publicly express.
It’s a proper sentiment. When anyone is treated unjustly, with real disregard or with cruelty, it’s right to remember that they too are the image of God.
But it’s worth noting that when the Bible references the image of God, human value, or dignity, is not the chief concern. It puts into focus not so much human value, but human calling and responsibility.[1] While we rightly remember the image of God in our neighbor, perhaps the pendulum of cultural chatter has swung such that it would do us well to consider what bearing the image really means for our own lives. Perhaps in drawing attention to our neighbor as image-bearer, we let ourselves off too easy.
In Genesis 1:26, God makes man as his image, and declares by implication what that means:
“Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”
Often the “image of God” is thought to consist in things like man’s ability to reason or speak, his spiritual or moral nature, or attributes like creativity. But from both the text itself and the historical context, it seems plain that whatever qualities the “image of God” might include, it primarily speaks of a job description—a vocation.
We see in this passage that man’s creation in God’s image means that he is gifted and tasked with stewardship of creation on God’s behalf, as a representative co-ruler. This is what the text itself points to, and in the ancient cultural context in which Genesis was written, the basic idea of “image of God” as the language of kingship would have been clear. Among Israel’s pagan neighbors, “image of god” normally referred to a king who represented the rule of a god, or possibly to a statue of the god himself (or herself) set up in a temple or in conquered land thought to be under that god’s protection.[2] That is the meaning here. Adam and Eve were set in Eden to administer the rule of the Great King.
In view of this task for which man was created, it’s striking that the very end of the biblical story of man sees it fulfilled. Revelation 22:5 says this about the servants of God: “They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.” The Bible’s narrative arc on humanity is that created as God’s image with dominion over creation, and failing spectacularly in that task, we can be restored to it in Christ—the true image—so that in the end his people share his very throne (Revelation 3:21). The work of sanctification should be seen as our becoming fit for this. So for example, Paul can appeal to the saints’ future judgment of the world and of angels as grounds for challenging them to learn to settle their own disputes in the church now (1 Corinthians 6:1-3). Learn to be faithful in little, in other words, because God means to set you over much.
In commenting on Genesis 1:26, John Calvin downplays this understanding. He says that “the dominion which was given to man in order that he might, in a certain sense, act as God’s vicegerent in the government of the world” is only “some portion, though very small, of the image of God.” He argues that we should understand the image of God in light of its restoration, as Paul speaks of the image in terms of “righteousness and true holiness” (Colossians 3:10, Ephesians 4:24). So according to Calvin, we should understand the “image of God” to refer to “the perfection of our whole nature… as it appeared when Adam was endued with a right judgment, had affections in harmony with reason, had all his senses sound and well-regulated, and truly excelled in everything good. Thus the chief seat of the Divine image was in his mind and heart.”
But while righteousness and holiness are a necessary and proper expression of the image, the image itself still speaks of the dominion in Christ that humanity was created for.
Colossians 3:10 (which Calvin references) says believers have “put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.” Our salvation, restoration to the image of God, is indeed a calling to pursue the righteousness of the “new self.” But what’s interesting is that this exhortation in Colossians is based on the saints’ future glory.
At the beginning of the chapter, it says this:
“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory” (Colossians 3:1-4).
It’s because believers will ultimately be revealed with Christ in glory that we should pursue holiness and righteousness now. The “glory” this passage speaks of is the glory of Christ’s position seated at God’s right hand, a position that—in Christ—the saints will share, and “therefore” (v. 5) they should put off the old and put on the new. Hebrews 2:5-10 contains much the same idea: Christ, the Son of Adam, is given dominion over all the works of God’s hands, but in Christ God is “bringing many sons to glory”—the glory of dominion.
Calvin also references Ephesians 4:24, which does describe the image in terms of righteousness and holiness, but this renewal is in view of the fact that the saints are raised and seated with Christ in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6). Paul prays that their eyes would be opened to the power at work in them, which is the same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him at God’s right hand (Ephesians 1:18-21). If this is our hope, we should see our sanctification as being fitted out to occupy that position properly. And if anyone thinks this might make for prideful arrogance or an attitude of condescending superiority, Philippians 2:1-11 reminds us that glory is only realized through self-emptying humility.
The point is, “the image of God” speaks of the position given to man at creation, which is restored to us in Christ, and which has yet to see its full future manifestation, but should be prepared for now by disciplining ourselves in righteousness and holiness. If we are going to share the throne, we’d better possess the humility, wisdom, justice, and integrity necessary to it.
The Heidelberg Catechism (Question 32) asks, “[W]hy are you called a Christian?” The answer that it gives is: “Because by faith I am a member of Christ and so I share in his anointing. I am anointed to confess his name, to present myself to him as a living sacrifice of thanks, to strive with a free conscience against sin and the devil in this life, and afterward to reign with Christ over all creation for eternity.”
That is what the image is about. I think we’ve lost sight of this last point in both our discipleship and the way we throw around “Imago Dei.”
To return to where I began, the dominant note in modern discourse about the image of God is the intrinsic value of each person. And each person does have inherent value and dignity. But this falls short of the weight that our creation in God’s image really lays upon us. Jesus asserts human worth in relative terms: We are more valuable than sparrows and flowers (Matthew 6:26-30). He does care for “the least of” his brethren, and so should we (Matthew 25:40), and he upheld the dignity of those accorded little or none by his contemporaries, whether children or disreputable women. But the image is not just some passive quality or spark of preciousness that we all possess, but a calling to active righteousness in view of the glory that God has in store for us. To be made in God’s image means that we are called to walk in a manner worthy of God who calls us into his own kingdom and glory (1 Thessalonians 2:12).
Walking in a manner worthy of God of course means treating each person with love and justice, not simply because they are the image of God, but because I am.
Daniel Hoffman received his M.Div from Reformed Theological Seminary (Jackson, MS) in 2012. He spent five years teaching Bible and history at Cherokee Christian School in Woodstock, GA, and then moved to Gwangyang, South Korea, where he and his wife currently teach English.
[1] There are two passages referencing the image of God where human worth might seem to be at the forefront. One is Genesis 9:6, where God institutes capital punishment. “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.” It’s common to read this statement as justifying the severity of the punishment by the heinousness of the crime—execute the murderer because he has destroyed a precious image-bearer. But it’s arguable, and I think likely, that the one in mind here as God’s image is the executioner, not the murder victim. “By man shall [the murderer’s] blood be shed, because God made man in his image.” Of course the victim is also the image of God. But at issue in this text is the authority to carry out justice: God is authorizing civil officers to be his sword-bearing ministers, in line with how Paul describes governing authorities in Romans 13:1-7.
The other passage is James 3:9, which says “With [the tongue] we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.” It might seem at first glance that James references the likeness of God to underscore how bad it is to curse people, but it’s clear from the next verses that the focus is at least as much on the hypocrisy of one who would with the same mouth bless God and then curse his image: “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water? ” (vs. 10-11). Inherent human value, while real, is not James’ main point.
[2] For evidence and lots of examples of this, see, for example, Greg Beale’s The Temple and the Church’s Mission, pgs. 87-93.
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