Observing recent events, from the local tragedy of Tamir Rice’s death, the riots surrounding the failure to indict police across the country, the outpouring of support for physician assisted suicide, to the ongoing debate over the definition of marriage, I have been provoked to finally put fingers to keys and turn ideas to “ink.”
I have been struck by the numerous ways the Imago Dei is at the heart of so many of the issues. Recognizing the image of God in our most vitriolic opponents, realizing our struggle is not against flesh and blood, and hearing Jesus’ call to love and pray for our enemies, Christians are called to move beyond violence and respond from a different set of values. If we can be forgiven in even our darkest moments and of our most horrific failures, who are we to hold onto bitterness and hate? We, who are forgiven, must in turn forgive. We must acknowledge the inherent dignity in those we oppose. They are fashioned in the image of God.
It is my hope the American church regains a value for the image of God in themselves and others. If we can reclaim the powerful beauty of beholding God in others, we may begin to respond out of love for God and our neighbor rather than the most recent incendiary incident.
The heart of so much of our misunderstanding as American Christians lies in the way we fail to consider the implications of what it means for all of humanity to be made in the image of God. We frequently attempt to use the words of the passages which address the issue with greatest clarity, Genesis 1 and 2, for our own debates rather than hearing the words of the author in their own context. The poetic opening passages of Genesis draw us in with epic language painting scenes of the creation of the cosmos and humanity formed from the dust of the earth in the image of God. Discussions of the origin of life from a biblical perspective often focus on the details surrounding the process of creation and the number of “days” the process lasted. We rage on about how our particular view holds the most merit without taking the time to truly hear the objections of our opponents. We debate evolution, intelligent design, and literal six-day creationism. We rush into our particular camps and start lobbing grenades over our ideological walls. Rarely does the role of humanity in creation rise to a place of prominence in our sermonizing on the subject. Genesis places the creation of humanity in the prime position. Women and men made in the image of God are the pinnacle of the process. The point of the biblical creation narrative is that humanity, fashioned in the image of God, is worthy of dominion and is undoubtedly very good.
Prior to humanity’s creation, the world and everything beyond, beneath, and upon it are good. It is only after humanity is created in the image of God and given a divine mandate Yahweh utters, “It is very good.” There is an inherent goodness to humanity that has been there from the beginning. The biblical picture certainly has language for our brokenness, the first death in Scripture does occur through the knowledge of evil, fratricide to be specific, rather than old age. Sin has misshapen what it means to be fully human. It takes family relationships and twists them to such a degree that the earth cries out over the blood that is shed. Yet even with the twisted imprint of sin upon us, every human bears the indelible dignity of the Imago Dei. Humanity, unique among all creatures, was made in God’s image and given his blessing.
In light of the shared nature of our divine image bearing, we should not be surprised that people from across the world can easily experience shared joy and suffering as we are connected with all people, even those whom we would often view as our political or philosophical enemies. Some time last year, I remember driving along and hearing a segment on NPR featuring an art installation that sought to connect NYC residents with someone in Syria. They did this by establishing viewing booths that had a feel very similar to the inside of many Syrian residences. The video would light up a screen in the middle of the room and on the other side of video link was an actual Syrian still living in the country. Then, using the aid of a translator, the two individuals were given 10 minutes to communicate. The impact on both sides was obvious. Bustling New Yorkers and war plagued Syrians were brought face to face with their shared image bearing.
It is this inherent image bearing which calls Jesus to honor those who disagree with, and even oppose, them. It calls us to love those made in God’s image no matter their conduct at a given moment. It is vital we realize love is not agreement. I do not have to accept the validity of the ideology of my opponents to love them. Jesus never acquiesced to the ideological demands of Pharisees, Sadducees, Zealots, or Romans. He remained resolute in his defiance of the authorities who sought to silence him. He did not bow his knee to Rome in worship of the emperor, and he rejected the strictest limitations placed upon the common people by the religious elite. Yet he did not do these acts out of spite or vengeance. He stood firm because of his love.
Jesus came and demonstrated that there is another kingdom whose influence is stronger. A kingdom not built on violence, vengeance, or militaristic bloodshed. Jesus, in laying down his life for his friends, asking for forgiveness for those who were harming him, and rising from the grave to the surprise of even those who knew his message best, opened the door for a return to the hope, love, joy, and peace that come with being an image-bearing child of Yahweh.
If God is good, he has chosen to put his goodness on display in you—and in your staunchest opponents. Today is a day to embrace the creativity of a Kingdom that dreams of redeemed darkness, beauty from ashes, joy from mourning, and friends from enemies. If you are looking for a good first step toward loving your opposition, take a moment and acknowledge your shared humanity, a humanity fashioned from common dust and endued with divine dignity.
j. michael hoff 