In 1500, the German artist Albrecht Dürer painted a self-portrait. The result is striking because Dürer chose to portray himself in a manner that had hitherto been reserved for devotional figures of the divine. The artist is shown half-length, staring intensely at the viewer (e.g. himself). Although the facial features do resemble those of the sitter, Dürer idealized his own physiognomy, conforming it to late medieval depictions of Christ. Moreover, the positioning of the artist’s right hand in the scene imitates the iconography of the act of blessing by the Salvator Mundi, the “Savior of the World.”1 While the Self-portrait of 1500 has been derided as an example of personal vain-glory,2 sympathetic critics have attempted to cast their analysis in a more “theological” manner. It is argued that to Dürer’s way of thinking, “the creative power of a good painter derives from, and to some measure is part of the creative power of God… ;” the artist himself writing, “God is honored when it appears that He has given such insight to a creature in whom such art resides.”3 For Dürer, experientia, or “observation of nature,” was the “noblest of the five senses,” and that which most clearly reflected the “insight” of God.4 In fact, one art historian goes so far as to label the work, a “confession” and a “sermon.” “It states, not what the artist claims to be, but what he most humbly endeavors to become: a man entrusted with a gift which implies both the triumph and tragedy of the Eritis sicut Deus (‘You shall be like God’).”5
In many ways, Albrecht Dürer’s work epitomizes the church’s continual grappling over the imago Dei, “the image of God.”6 For some, the “image of God” is in the eye of the beholder: that aspect of one’s own personality, character, or talent, which—in their view (experientia)—is uniquely reflective of the “divine in us.”7
However, with the rise of historical-critical study of the Bible in the late nineteenth century, a different venue to dealing with the issue was opened.8 Upon the discovery of thousands of texts by archaeologists, scholars turned to ancient Near Eastern parallels to try to explain the imago Dei.9 And on this basis, it is now generally accepted that the phrase is derived from “royal language” attested from Mesopotamia and Egypt, wherein a king or pharaoh is sometimes called the “image of (a) god.” While supposedly being “democratized” in the Genesis account, such an observation readily lends itself to the idea that human beings function as the divine image through the exercise of “dominion” and “rule.”
Still, even though there is something of a consensus in current biblical scholarship that the “exercise of rulership” is to be equated with the imago Dei, a number of questions must be addressed:
- What does the term “image” actually denote in the Ancient Near East?10 More pressing, what was an “image” and how did it function?
- Secondly, what are the immediate and broader biblical contexts in which this phrase “the image of God” occurs, and what bearing does a narrative reading have on the discussion?
- Finally, what does it mean that humanity was “created in the image of God?” It is often assumed that this clause refers to the making of human beings as “an image,” or fashioning men and women into an image, e.g. as somehow reflecting /mirroring God or some aspect of God’s own act or being. But some serious theological and grammatical difficulties arise despite the widespread acceptance of such translations and interpretations.
The Image in the Ancient Near East
Addressing the first point, in the Ancient Near East, the primary purpose of an image (Heb. ṣelem) was to demarcate the boundaries and limits in, and from which, a higher power exercised legitimate rule: the “image” transmitted the message and claim of its owner. Thus, in the ancient world, an image is best described as a sign or herald which pointed back to its original author and promulgator.11
Despite the overwhelming association of the term with an inanimate object—a stela, a standard, a carved or cast figure—human beings also functioned as “images.” We have already mentioned that kings were called the “image of a deity.” But it must be quickly stated that monarchs, when so named, were themselves regarded not as autonomous beings, but rather as serving the god, e.g. the Divine King, who appointed the individual to their office. This is no minor point, for it shows that mundane royal power was derived from, and circumscribed by, divine fiat.12 As a result, a king or pharaoh was not so much the “(mirror/physical twin) image of a god”—as is usually understood—but was an “image/instrument for a deity,” e.g. one who acted on behalf of, and by, the consent of the divine. More precisely, the ruler was a retainer whose foremost duty was to uphold a way of life that was regarded as transcendent in origin.13 Theoretically, a king as the “image for a god,” had no inherent authority: power was (temporarily) invested in the person upon the occupancy of an office (Kingship) which had been granted to them. No matter a monarch’s boasts to the contrary, his hierarchical position in ancient society was penultimate: it was the sovereign’s task to testify to, and carry out, the word and intention of The Ultimate (the Divine Realm).
Not surprisingly, beneath such rulers stood their own officials who served in a similar representative capacity as “royal images.” Judges, priests, ambassadors, and vassals, were placed in power by the grace of the sovereign, and the recipients of such largesse were to be entirely subservient to the command of their patron. Officers were obliged to transmit the king’s word, and not their own. Initiatives were to be guided and approved by the throne. Rumors— no matter how trivial—were to be reported back to the capital for the ruler’s decision.
What must be stressed in all of this, is that the “image” is to be understood as a legal and political concept. It expressed the reality of a very specific arrangement: an “image” was thought of, and described in terms of responsibility—of “obedient servanthood.” In the Ancient Near East, this ideal was exemplified by the title, arad kitti, “the faithful servant.”14
The arad kitti was the figure who was loyal to his sovereign’s command even in the face of great temptation to desert to another lord; or to rebel and go one’s own way; or who, because of adversity, was tempted to override the counsel of the superior because of the risk to one’s immediate safety or personal satisfaction. Essentially, the individual appointed as “an image of/for” a king or deity was in a covenantal relationship: a person’s duty being the carrying out of the bond which tied the parties to one another as Lord and Servant.
If one accepts that the reading “God created man in his image” in Genesis 1 has its origins in “royal ideology” of the Ancient Near East, then, it is against, and within, this symbolic world of Office and Obligation that the biblical concept of the imago Dei should be considered.
The Immediate Biblical Context of Genesis 1:26-27
The Scriptural context in which the phrase, “the image of God” appears, is the making of humanity by God—the penultimate act of creation, occurring on the sixth day. This event is part of, and culminates, a much longer sequence which is marked by a sense of “orderliness,” conveyed by the general pattern of:
1) God speaks; 2) The accomplishment of the divine command; 3) God recognizes the result as “good;” 4) Date.
Commentators have long acknowledged the deliberate nature of the account of chapter 1, and have noted parallels between the Genesis narrative of the formation of the cosmos, and a type of text found elsewhere in the Ancient Near East known as the “building” or “dedicatory” inscription.
This rather broad characterization—while useful—needs to be elaborated further: the creation of the world in Genesis 1:1-2:4 describes the construction of a particular type of architecture—a temple.15 God, acting in the role of a king:
- First designates by decree the spot acceptable for a cult-shrine (Gen. 1:3);
- Followed by the formation of the roof and floor (Gen. 1:7, 10);
- Next, God provides a place for ritual ablution and cleansing (Gen. 1:10);
- Then, he furnishes appropriate illumination and timetables for the tasks to be carried out within the edifice (Gen. 1:14-15);
- Finally, God stocks the sanctuary with materials for use within the designated area (Gen. 1:20-25);
- At each juncture, the work “in progress” is inspected and approved (“It was good”).
Within this literary scheme, the subsequent formation of human beings as “male” and “female” “in the image of God,” would parallel the installation of “images” within an ancient shrine. Presupposing the conceptual background offered above, the purpose of these human “images” would have been regarded in functional terms: to represent, bear witness to, and to serve under, the authority of the Divine/Royal Patron.
These images—just like the personnel of a sovereign in the Ancient Near East—are to speak and act on the basis of their commission. Established in their office—in their position as “image for God”—they are to be nothing more, and nothing less, than the arad kitti, “the loyal servant” of their Lord, bound to, constrained, and defined by, His Sovereign Word alone.
Taken in this way, the biblical specification of humankind “in the image of/for God” as “male” and “female” is not just a designation of gender, but should be considered as the assignation of mutual responsibility and duty, e.g. ethics.16 Both men and women—as such—are chosen for their position to acknowledge faithfully the sovereignty of their Creator over them and their office.
The precise role given to corporate humanity of male-female “in the image of/for God”—best understood as “in the service of God”—is announced by the Deity in Gen. 1:26, and reiterated in Gen. 1:28-30:
And God blessed them, and God said to them: “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” And God said: “Behold, I have given to you every plant yielding seed… you shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every plant for food.”
Here, blessing is the act of investiture: humanity’s tasks are both assigned and effected by Divine Mandate, with God’s benediction being cast in the form of a threefold royal grant:
1) Servant/herald-humanity is given the ability to reproduce; the intended emphasis being that the office of “image” is to be filled and exercised in perpetuity, a common motif in the awarding of royal posts.17 2) Servant/herald-humanity is allowed to “subdue” and “have dominion” over the rest of Creation and its inhabitants. The phraseology is very subtle here: while seemingly having the implication of unlimited power, the terms “subdue it” (Heb. kivsuah) and “have dominion” (Heb. redu) may also be rendered in a more benign fashion, as “domesticating” and “shepherding.”18 The exercise of such prerogatives, thus, is to be directed towards, and contributes to, the primary task of humanity’s “image/office” of “servanthood” under the jurisdiction of the Divine.
3) Humankind—as with any officeholder or vassal in the Ancient Near East—is granted victuals and provender: a salary and pension as benefit of its position of being in relationship to its lord.
The stress of the text is that whatever authority humanity has to yield, does not arise out of any natural ability in Man, but has its sole basis in the mercy, generosity, and permission of the Divine Suzerain towards it.
Following humankind’s installation “in the image/service of God,” within the world which has been purposefully fashioned as the Temple of God, the Lord of the Sanctuary declares everything that he has done to be “very good.” “Good/goodness” (tov) is characteristic of juridical language in the Ancient Near East.19 The term denotes that which is “fitting and proper as effected by the action of the superior in the formulation of a binding relationship between two parties.” This biblical “good,” therefore, is not to be derived from some neutral point, nor is it to be regarded primarily as an aesthetic quality; but it, too, is “legal” in nature. “Good/goodness” is “that which is agreeable to the initiator and author of the covenant.”
The acknowledgment that “everything that he has made— behold—it was very good,” is the declaration that each aspect in God’s creative plan is duly suited for its respective role: the parts contribute to the proper fulfillment of the whole. And significantly enough, Creation concludes—not with the making of humanity—but with the institution of the Sabbath: the great festival in which God is to be honored, is established as the true goal of the divine acta.
Within this immediate scriptural context, the making of human beings “in the image of God,” would denote that all mortal action is to be directed towards the glorification of the Lord of the Covenant and Builder of His Sanctuary. Importantly, human beings—male and female, equally and together—are granted a sacral responsibility. They are, by expressed decree, to be “priests,” servants, and heralds for their Divine Suzerain.
The formation of humanity in Gen. 1:26-27, “in the image/service of God” above all else, would refer to the inauguration of a particular post and tenure. Analogous to historical practice in the Ancient Near East, such a contractual office is to be regarded as a privilege: it is not to be seized, taken over, or arbitrarily changed by, the occupants on their own terms. Rather, it is to be received in gratitude, carried out in humility, and—bound to the Lord of the Covenant, and guided by his Word—its sole purpose is revealed to be the joyful service and exaltation of God.20
Another Reading of Genesis 1:26-27
One of the difficulties in dealing with the imago Dei is the rarity of the phrase itself in the Bible. Other scriptural references to it are largely dependent upon its initial usage in Gen. 1:26-27, and this scarcity has readily lent itself to speculation. Nevertheless, explanations of the term which posit some sort of “resemblance” between God and humanity—whether ontologically or analogically—have to overcome the problem of the utter transcendence of God in his Being and Act from that which he has created: God is God, and human beings are human beings.
Moreover, there are also other peculiarities of Gen.1:26-27 with which one must reckon. Contrary to usual Hebrew syntax, the verb bara, “to make, create,” normally does not take the preposition be-, “in,” to signify a secondary object, as the translations of these verses would suppose (“Let us make man in our image…so God created man in his own image”).21 Only in the Genesis passages referring to the imago Dei is such a formulation in evidence. But both its exceptional grammar, as well as the theological objections raised above, serve to caution us that such a rendering is not to be automatically assumed.
In this regard, however, it should be pointed out that the phrases, “in the image of,” and “according to the likeness (of)” are attested frequently in extra-biblical writings from the Ancient Near East as idioms. In ancient Egyptian, for example, “in the image of” is a simple designation for “oneself;” while “according to the likeness of” expresses the notion of “completeness” or “totality,” e.g. “totally.”22 These phrases are used as adjunct or appositives to nouns, and emphasize the idea of “one’s own self.” Thus, the lexical arrangement—Proper Name + qualifier “in the image of PN”/ “according to the likeness of PN”—means, “an individual himself, completely (did something); or “someone—on their own—(did something).” The terminology is self-referential, and is used to convey the concept of sui generis, or uniqueness.
Despite the complex interpretative history of the imago Dei, it is quite attractive to take Gen. 1:26-27 in this fashion: the Hebrew phrases besalmenu, “in his (lit. our) image,”23 and kidmuthenu, “according to his (our) likeness” are to be seen as idiomatic, parallel to similar constructions attested in other Ancient Near Eastern languages.
Furthermore, we would suggest that these figurative expressions belong not to the predicate “man/humanity” (adam), but are to be linked, instead, to the subject “God:” lit. “God-in God’s-own image/according-to-God’s likeness created man.” Such a possibility is supported by the Hebrew word order, and is, in fact, quite plausible in light of Gen. 1:27, where “in the image of” is placed at the beginning of the clause, being closely bound to the subject “he,” i.e. “God”: “It is in-his-image, that God created humanity.24
What would “God-in-the-image of God/God-according to his likeness” signify? On the one hand, it would merely be a formula for saying: “God himself, totally (or accordingly).” Yet, this would have great significance within the overall discussion of the imago Dei, since it would be an attempt by the biblical witness to stress that God had undertaken the creation of humankind in his complete and utter sovereignty: it is God alone, by his grace, that he made this adam.
“God-in-God’s image, according-to-his-likeness,” e.g. “God’s own self—completely,” is the revelation that this deity has freely undertaken the formation and commissioning of man: it is God who acts out of, and in, and from, his own authority. If such a reading is valid, several implications may be drawn from the text:
- Gen 1:26-27 would be stating that humans are not formed “into” or “as” “the divine image,” at all. Rather, this “image” and “likeness”25 is entirely self-referential, self-defined, and self-applied to God: divine being is not transferred to humanity in any manner at creation. There is no natural correspondence between humanity and its character, and God, other than the reality of God’s granting to Man the ability to exist and function as this creature before Him.26
- However, the formulation, “God, God’s self, totally created humanity” in no sense, is a denial of Man’s status within the created scheme. Male and female are brought into being for a specific purpose: to serve as bearers and holders of a sacral post, sharing in the benefits granted to them by their Suzerain. They are to live with, and by, the revelation that God alone is, and has declared Himself, to be this, their Sovereign Lord.
- The Creation of Man by “God’s own self, totally,” is a biblical refutation of an idea then current in the ancient world, that human existence is an accident, or originated out of chaos. Gen.1:26-27, affirms that the formation of Man is the result of God’s own intentional and free act— not as an afterthought, compulsion, or forced necessity.
Wisdom and the Imago Dei
We are not unaware that the proposed “God-in-God’s image (e.g. God himself) created humanity” is a departure from tradition, and an immediate question arises as a result: Does it eliminate the earlier rendering, discussed above, of “God created humanity in the image/office of/for God?”
Not necessarily; while a tension exists between the two statements, there is also the real possibility that both meanings were intended to be conveyed by the text. The Creation narratives in Genesis bear distinct affinities with a type of literature from the Ancient Near East known as “Wisdom.”27 “Wisdom” has to do with proper discernment and judgment. And one of the major lessons that this genre imparts, is that a “truth” based on human reason or experience is often faulty and short-sighted. Only that Word which is given from God forms the proper basis for living a meaningful life in the midst of a contradictory and paradoxical existence. The very manner in which such “wisdom” is formulated is intended to reveal the sagacity— or the lack, thereof—of its recipient. Proverbs and propositions often use puns and expressions that are multivalent in meaning. A statement will apparently, say one thing, but simultaneously, intends something quite different to be understood—even the exact opposite. The “wise individual”—the “sage”—is able to discern what is actually being transmitted by the author.
Given the ambiguity of the Hebrew, Genesis 1:26-27 may be regarded in this way, with four distinct meanings implied:
1) “God created man in God’s own image.” Whatever the ṣelem /imago is, the most important aspect to note about it, is that it is determined by, and subject to, the decision and action of its Creator, alone.
2) “God created man in/into God’s image.” The “image” is used in its technical meaning of a “marker/servant/office-holder” on behalf of, or for, God. Though linked to “royal ideology,” the function and role of the “image,” or “instrument,” is subordinated to the intention and desire of its Sovereign Lord.
3) “God-in-God’s (own)-image created humanity.” This stresses the transcendence of God as Creator. God alone defines God’s self and act over, and against, those whom he has fashioned as human-beings.
4) “God created man in/as God’s image.” By contrast to the preceding readings, humanity, on the basis of its own judgment, views itself as a direct reflection of God, having the ability to declare its own sovereignty, interpret the divine will, and define itself apart from the oversight of its Creator. Man equates some aspect of its “creatureliness” as a direct correspondence with a divine attribute, or “divinity”—that it is just like God.
Despite some differences, the first three examples are closely related. The stress—in one way or another—is that the fashioning of human beings is the freely chosen act of the Divine Sovereign; man’s existence is determined both by the divine claim, and by its “occupation,” which is subordinate to, and shaped by the decision of God for it. Whether the “image” is to be applied to God idiomatically (#3), or to man, functionally (#1-2)—and we would argue that both readings (# 2-3) are valid and implied—the creation of the latter is overwhelmingly realized in terms of “obedient servanthood,” a task and role clearly formulated within the narrative logic of the canonical text as being based on, and explicated as, a “covenantal relationship.”
Ironically enough, #4 has been hermeneutically prevalent throughout history, even though it is the very essence of the temptation offered by the “serpent,” “to partake of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil… (for) when you eat of it… you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
“To be like God” ( sicut Deus) will be proven demonstrably, to be the false understanding of the imago Dei. Through its misguided interpretation that “being created in the image of God” means asserting the right to displace divine command with its self-derived knowledge about itself, and how it is to live, humanity will gain the unfortunate experience (experientia) of death.
The Reclamation and the Repristination of the Imago Dei
Over the centuries, one of the most pressing questions regarding the imago Dei has been: What became of the “image” subsequent to the eviction of Man-Woman from the Garden? Earlier commentators—seeking to identify the “image” as the human possession of a divine attribute— were faced with the insurmountable problem: How could that which God had created “in perfection” dissolve into decay? Calvin’s famous description of the “deformation” of the “image” implanted in the soul is an attempt to come to grips with such a difficulty.
However, if one takes “in the image” as a reference to “God’s self,” such inquiries about the “loss of the imago Dei” become irrelevant: God does not stop being the God who created humanity out of his own gracious will. Still, there can be little doubt that the sinful arrogance of human beings “to be like God” (sicut Deus) is a continuing theme of the Genesis narratives, if not most of the Bible. Clearly, the later Reformed emphasis on the sinful depravity of Man is not entirely misplaced, having its roots in the Scriptures themselves. Nevertheless, this negative depiction of human falleness is counterbalanced in the book of Genesis with the portrayal of individuals who remain obedient to the guidance of God and his Word: Noah and Abraham. Because of their faithfulness, they are recipients of special covenants28 from God; these individuals will provide prototypes and models who exemplify the concept of the imago Dei in its instrumental and vocational sense as “servants/images for God,” who recognize the utter sovereignty of God over them, outside of the rarified confines of Eden.
This idea of “special election” of a loyal vassal eventually reaches a climax in the Pentateuch in the formation of the pact between God and Moses, where the entire community is to “become a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod 19:5). Through Torah—the covenantal instruction centered around the Decalogue—comes the opportunity for humanity to live out the Divine Intention for it from the Beginning, even in a Fallen World—acknowledging, as the corporate entity of Israel, that “God is Lord, and we are his people.” This declaration represents the reinstatement of Gen. 1:27, in its two-fold sense, both as divine claim upon, and commissioning of, humankind: in the wilderness, Israel accepts the role and task of arad kitti, “the faithful servant,” recognizing the title of its Divine Suzerain over all of Creation.29
Indeed, this emphasis upon service to YHWH as entailing the office, and election, of Israel is an important theme in the Scriptures, receiving its most vivid treatment in the exilic prophets, particularly the second half of the book of Isaiah.30 After the announcement that their captivity is to end, God—in an act reminiscent of both Creation and Exodus—summons his people forth from the “chaos” of Babylon, and declares it to be his “servant” anew. The identification of “servant/vassal-Israel” culminates in the description of a figure, who, in his loyalty, bears the “transgressions” and “iniquities” of the nation upon himself, despite terrible cost to his own life. The acknowledgment that YHWH—in his sovereign freedom— has fashioned Israel for this task alone—to be radically obedient to the Lord and his covenantal command— exemplifies the re-Creation of humanity “in-the-image of God” following the destruction of the Temple and the return of the nation to its homeland.
This prophetic language wherein the “image” and “servanthood” are linked, ultimately converges in the apostle Paul’s description of the kenosis, “the pouring out” of the pre-existent Son of God, an act which is requisite to the drama of salvation:
(Christ Jesus) who—though he was in the form of God—… emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of man. And being found so formed—as a man—He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, (namely) death by a cross (Philippians 2:6a, 7-8).
In Pauline theology, the story of Jesus’ radical faith and faithfulness—e.g. the history of his obedient servanthood which demonstrates his true lordship—represents authentic humanity as intended by God from the beginning. The denial and deformation of man’s vocation by the first Adam, is reversed through the One who submitted himself in humility to God’s Word and plan.31 The restoration of the proper understanding of “being-created-in-God’s image” in all of its aspects—denoting the unique Lordship of God as Creator, and subservience of Man thereto—is manifested and effected by God’s great, and once-for-all act of mercy in, and through, his Son, his life, death, and resurrection.
Humanity’s “being conformed” and “conforming” to Christ and his witness—both ontologically and ethically— henceforth specifies the content and meaning of the imago Dei. Christology defines anthropology: the “Second Adam” is the repristination and re-creation of the “Old (Fallen) Man” and his corrupting of his office.
The election—the commissioning and claiming of humanity by covenant—through the free and gracious act of the Electing and Covenanting God-—revealed in, and as, Jesus Christ will mark the “two-fold” reality underlying the biblical phrase “God’s created man-in-his-image/ God-in-God’s-own-image created man.”32
Re-integrating the Imago Dei
We would conclude our survey, by affirming that both textual and linguistic material available from the Ancient
Near East, is quite valuable in illuminating the background of the biblical “imago Dei.”33
We have argued that, rather than denoting the “exaltation” of a particular talent or characteristic of human nature—as is frequently the case in popular debates of this topic—the imago Dei has to do with the Creation, Commissioning, and Claiming of Man by God in covenant. It is as “Lord” of this Bond, and as Author and Initiator of this specific binding relationship, that God defines both himself, and his creature. Such an arrangement, we would suggest, is signified by the “double meaning” of the phrase “God-in-God’s-image created man/God created Man in God’s image.”
This dialectical expression contains within it the revelation that first and foremost, God is the Electing God who acts out of his own Sovereign Will (e.g. “God-in-God’s-image created man: God himself, completely created humanity”); and secondly—but importantly—humanity has been brought into existence, and appointed to occupy and carry out a sacral office (e.g “God created man in his image/in service for him”).
Man is the consequence of God’s purposeful decision, and has been called into being for a particular task: to glorify its Sovereign, being empowered by grant, to fulfill its station within the divinely ordered world. Critically, both the form and function of this office are entirely dependent upon, and realized in, God’s Word, alone. Humanity’s action within the Cosmos-as-Temple, on behalf of its Suzerain, is itself, described and circumscribed by decree—God’s Self-Disclosure.
As a result, we would assert that any “anthropological” interpretation of the imago Dei as “in the image/office of/for God” has to do with ethics. However, the ethics implied in the biblical account of Creation are of a certain type: they are the obligations placed upon the arad kitti— the faithful servant. Humanity is not “enthroned” as an autonomous autocrat, but is installed as a beloved vassal, whose trustworthiness is signified by reverence for, and obedience to, God and His Command.34 For it is literally “God’s Word” which will determine the parameters of the relationship between the two parties. That which leads to “life and good” is to be derived neither from humanity’s evaluation of itself, nor from its experientia—not even from its potential or ability to act within the sphere of Creation— but by Divine Ordinance.35
Simply put, the “image” of the imago Dei is expressed in the continuing witness and validity of God’s declaration of partnership, “I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” God is faithful in his covenantal promise as Creator and Lord, and Mankind is to occupy its rightful place as His Servant in the world, being guided by, sustained, and bearing witness to, that Divine Word spoken to it from the Beginning. Likewise, this will be the essence of the office subsequently given to the community of Israel in the midst of the Fallen World; as Torah—Covenantal Instruction—will define anew the original commissioning of, and commission to, humanity to “rule/shepherd” a Creation, now broken and reeling from sin.
And, according to the testimony of Scripture, this service to, and for, YHWH, is decisively revealed in the actual embodiment of the Divine Word—the Word which was at, and from, the Beginning, and which has become flesh in history—in, and as, Jesus Christ. It is through This One— who brings to Man the Light which shone forth at Creation, and who announces the Sabbath of the Lord to the world— that Israel’s mission, and humanity’s original and eternal vocation and purpose are both demonstrated and consummated.
In and through Christ Jesus—He who was, and is, with God as Son and Servant of YHWH—we hear once more, and finally, that it is “in-the-image-of-God that God made Man;” and that Man-and-Woman, adam—equally and together— have been fashioned by God Himself to be holy and free for God, and thus, wholly free for one another in the responsibility of a covenantal community.
We would suggest that it is this interplay between the Creating and Commissioning God, and Created and Commissioned Humanity which constitutes the biblical concept and reality of the imago Dei for the church. Hopefully, it is from such a point—the recognition that humanity is defined by the Sovereign Word and Act of God as homo foederis Dei, “man of, and by, God’s covenant”36—that further discussion may proceed.
This article first appeared in Theology Matters, Vol. 3, No. 6 (Nov/Dec 1997).
Notes
- Erwin Panofsky, The Life and Art of Albrecht Dürer, (Princeton, 1955) 43. The portrait (Ill. 110) is in the Alte Pinakothek, Munich. ↩
- See the detailed discussion of Joseph Koerner, The Moment of Self-Portraiture in German Renaissance Art (Chicago-London, 1993) 40ff. ↩
- Panofsky, op cit., 43. ↩
- Jane Campbell Hutchinson, Albrecht Dürer: A Biography (Princeton, 1990) 68. ↩
- Panofsky, op cit., 43. From the Biblical viewpoint, the attempt to be “like God” is an unmitigated disaster. It is interesting that Dürer also portrayed himself as the suffering Christ, “the Man of Sorrows,” in a drawing of 1522, ibid., Frontispiece. ↩
- The term imago Dei is itself derived from the Latin translation of Genesis 1:26-27: “Then God said, “Let us make humanity in our image (ad imaginem … nostram)… in the image of God, he created them (ad imaginem Dei)…” ↩
- Such thinking is especially evident in the controversies surrounding sexuality; cf. the report of the General Assembly Special Committee on Human Sexuality, Keeping Body and Soul Together: Sexuality, Spirituality, and Social Justice: A Document Prepared for the 203rd General Assembly (1991), 59ff. In virtually every debate on such matters, Gen. 1:26-27 is invoked to justify “lifestyle” choices. The literature on the imago Dei is enormous, but cf. Gunnlaugur A. Jonsson, The Image of God: Genesis 1:26-28 in a Century of Old Testament Research (Lund, 1988); James Barr, Biblical Faith and Natural Theology (Oxford, 1993) 156ff.; Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:The Doctrine of Creation (Trans. J. W. Edwards, et al.) (Edinburgh, 1959) 191ff. ↩
- Throughout history, numerous interpreters have concluded that the “divine image” consists in some “essence” or “capacity” innate in human beings, although it seemingly is not defined in the biblical text: this has ranged from the ability to walk upright, to sexually derived characteristics. In some cases, it has been suggested that the “physicality” of humanity ontologically corresponds to God’s own appearance and action (cf. the summary comments of Barr, Biblical Faith, 158). Certain rabbinic authorities, by contrast, asserted that the “image” was humanity created as male and female: “neither man without woman nor woman without man, and neither of them without the Divine Spirit” ( Midrash Rabbah Bereshith [8.9], [ed. H. Freeman] [London-New York, 1983] 60). Other Jewish sources held that the “likeness of God”—whatever it was—had once been granted to human beings, but was either changed or removed after the Fall. Nevertheless, important strands of this religious tradition-—based on Gen. 9:6—maintained that the image of God continued to abide with humanity even after the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden (for a convenient overview, see Theological Dictionary of the New Testament 2 [Grand Rapids, 1964] 392ff). Various Christian writers from the early church—most prominently, Augustine—held that the imago Dei resided in the human intellect— memory, mind, and will/love (cf. Jonsson, op cit., 13; also Barth, CD 3.1, 192ff.). Later on, Thomas Aquinas posited a similar correspondence, or analogia entis, between human reason and divine thought (Summa Theologica, 1. Q. 93 [Chicago, 1952] 492ff.). Martin Luther, on the other hand, disputed such interpretations, basing his objections on the reality of the Fall. Still, he did note that the image of God had been possessed by Adam—“in its moral substance, or nature; that he not only knew God and believed Him to be good, but that he lived a life truly divine; that is, free from the fear of death and all dangers, and happy in favour of God” (The Creation: A Commentary on the First Five Chapters of the Book of Genesis [Edinburgh, 1858] 90). Through Original Sin, this entity— “something excellent above all things: in which was included eternal life, eternal security, and all good”—was lost (ibid., 93). Significantly enough, John Calvin claimed that the imago Dei was yet to be found in the human soul and was primarily spiritual; however, it was “so corrupted that whatever remains is frightful deformity” (Institutes of the Christian Religion 1 [Philadelphia, 1960] 186ff.). In marked contrast to Reformation theology, liberal thought of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth centuries linked the divine image to the “feeling” of transcendence and striving supposedly inherent to humanity (cf. the comments and critique of Barth, op cit., 192ff.). Unfortunately, such speculation eventually led to the formulation of the “Ordinances or Orders (Ordnungen) of Creation,” which became central to the heretical doctrines of the so-called German Christians upon the rise of Hitler (cf. E.Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer [New York, 1970] 179; E Busch, Karl Barth: His Life From Letters and Autobiographical Texts [Philadelphia, 1976] 188). The “Orders of Creation” held that certain institutions or human conditions—e.g. exalted concepts of “nationhood” or “race”—had been fixed from the beginning of the world as the “image of God,” and therefore had to be upheld in obedience to divine rule and intention. Utilizing this position, the Third Reich sought to justify and gain the approval of the church for its anti-Semitic policies. This viewpoint, often linked to the idea of “natural theology,” is typified by the writings of Emil Brunner. Though it must be strongly stated that Brunner—a Swiss— was no supporter of the German Christians or the Nazis, nevertheless, he did hold that certain institutions such as “the state” had been given by God, a scheme that could be known to human beings without benefit of special revelation, but rather by instinct. Brunner stated that-—even given the Fall—there was still a “natural point of contact” between God and man; and it was this “point” which he identified as the imago Dei (cf. the remarks of Jonsson, 70f.) Theologians of the Confessing Church Movement in the 1930’s, such as Karl Barth and Dietrich Bonhoeffer adamantly opposed such thinking. Barth argued that “on the basis of instinct and reason one may proclaim one thing to be `an Ordinance of Creation’, another another thing—according to the liberal, conservative, or revolutionary inclinations of each” (in “Nein! Antwort am Emil Brunner” in Natural Theology [London-Bles, 78ff.]). Barth instead posited that the “image of God” was humanity created “in community,” as “male and female,” in analogy to God’s inter-Trinitarian existence (CD 3.1, 201ff.). Bonhoeffer, too, warned that “the danger of the argument (e.g. utilizing the `Orders of Creation’) lies in the fact that just about everything can be defended by it. One need only hold out something to be God-willed and God-created for it to be vindicated for ever” (in No Rusty Swords [New York, 1965] 165). For Bonhoeffer, such “ordinances” could not be maintained due to the fallen nature of both the world and humanity. In place of the “Orders of Creation,” he proposed the conceptual term, “Orders of Preservation”: all aspects of life were to be judged only on the basis of the freely given revelation of God—who, in Jesus Christ—has acted in freedom (ibid., 166). The “freedom of God” in Creation forms and informs the central focus of Bonhoeffer’s christological discussion of the imago Dei as “humanity in freedom” (Creation and Fall/Temptation: Two Biblical Studies [New York, 1959, 35ff]; Bonhoeffer argues on the basis of an analogia relationis). ↩
- In addition to the convenient summary of Jonsson, op cit., 126ff., see the comments of Jon Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil: The Jewish Drama of Divine Omnipotence (Princeton, 1988) 112ff.; and the studies of H. Wildberger, “Das Abbild Gottes Gen 1:26-30,” Theologische Zeitschrift 21 (1965) 245ff., 481ff.; and B. Ockinga, Die Gottesbildlichkeit im Alten Aegypten und im Alten Testament (Wiesbaden, 1984). ↩
- The use of material roughly contemporary with-—or even predating— the formulation of the biblical Creation account has considerable merit. After all, the people of ancient Israel were familiar with, conversant in, and utilized the language, idioms, and metaphors of the Levantine world in which they resided. As the Confession of 1967 has stated, “the church… has an obligation to approach the Scriptures with literary and historical understanding” (The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church [U.S.A.], Part I, Book of Confessions [Louisville, 1991] 9.29). It must be quickly added, however, that although “conditioned by the language, thought-forms, and literary fashions of the places and times at which they were written” (ibid.), the message of the Biblical texts and their testimony to the Word of God, is by no means restricted by, or to, their age of origin. Likewise, neither does the recognition that the Scriptures belong to a time and place different from our own, signify that we may tailor them to justify our needs. Current judgements about “coherence” and “contigency” of various passages (e.g. that which is central to the community of faith, and that which is time-bound and may be disregarded as “normative” or binding), are just as historically conditioned by present circumstances and academic fashions- – if not more so- – than the Old and New Testaments. (One need only point to the seemingly endless stream of speculation coming from various members of the so-called “Jesus Seminar.”) While scholarly speculation is useful within limits, and may lead to further understanding, the biblical texts—as they have been handed down to us by, and within, the community of faith—must be treated with the utmost respect. Various hypotheses about form-critical considerations, the identification of “redactional strands,” “authorial intentions,” proposed situations for writing beyond and behind the text, et al. —are, at best, of relative importance and secondary value. Historical reconstructions do not, and cannot, replace the testimony of the received word of Scripture for us, and the reality of That Word for us, as witnessed by the Holy Spirit. These canonical strictures will be assumed in this discussion of the imago Dei. ↩
- In Ancient Egypt, terms for “image,” “inscription,” and “decree,” i.e. that which bears and proclaims the king’s word and deed are often interchangeable, cf. Anthony Spalinger, Aspects of the Military Documents of the Ancient Egyptians (New Haven-London, 1982) 46ff. ↩
- See the remarks of Wolfram von Soden, The Ancient Orient: an Introduction to the Study of the Ancient Near East (Trans. Donald G. Schley) (Grand Rapids, 1994) 63ff.; S. Morschauser, “The Ideological Basis for Social Justice/Responsibility in Ancient Egypt,” in K. D. Irani and Morris Silver, Social Justice in the Ancient World (Westport-London, 1995) 101ff. ↩
- In this clearly subordinate role, a monarch was to maintain the divinely ordered scheme by: 1) Transmitting and exercising the “law” in a proper manner; 2) Safeguarding the weak and powerless through the administration of “justice”; 3) Guarding the territory allotted to him/her by the gods, and keeping intact the boundaries of the city/state; 4) Furnishing cult-places for worship, and ensuring that deities were sufficiently honored by appropriate offerings; and 5) Being vigilant against forces which might upset social equilibrium. This would include the suppression of banditry and rebellion, and protecting the citizenry in case of attack through the legitimate waging of war. In this regard, the king as “image for a god” was often seen as a “shepherd” on behalf of the true owner(s) of the flock, i.e. the Heavenly Sovereign. ↩
- See William L. Moran, “Rib-Hadda: Job at Byblos?” in Ann Kort et al., Biblical and Related Studies Presented to Samuel Iwry (Winona Lake, 1985) 177ff. ↩
- Levenson, op cit., 78ff., notes the similarity in the language of the Genesis account of Creation and the construction of both the Tabernacle and the Jerusalem Temple. ↩
- There is no doubt that the parties are regarded as sexual beings: the terms zakar (male) and neqevah (female) refer to distinct gender characteristics, and this pairing is seen to be as normative within the Biblical model of Creation. However, the naming of both “male” and “female” within the context of the receipt of the divine commission should be compared to the function of the Israelites who witness and freely accept the covenantal obligations placed upon them by Moses at Mt. Horeb in Deut. 29:10-13: “You stand this day, all of you, before the Lord your God; the heads of your tribes, your elders, and your officers; all the men of Israel, your little ones, your wives, and the sojourner… that you may enter into the sworn covenant, which the Lord your God makes with you this day; that he may establish you this day as his people… ” One could also cite royal decrees from ancient Egypt where “all people” (male and female) are invoked as bearing responsibility for upholding legal statutes. ↩
- Procreation alone is not the point, but rather the sharing of the benefits of a tenured position. The wish that a family have offspring to assume an inherited seat is a common blessing throughout the ancient Near East, being an element in the so-called “covenant of grant.” ↩
- Cf. the pertinent remarks of Waltger Brueggemann, Genesis (Atlanta, 1982) 32. ↩
- Dennis J. McCarthy, Treaty and Covenant: A Study in Form in the Ancient Oriental Documents and the Old Testament (Rome, 1978) 171, n. 28., W. L. Moran, “A Note on the Treaty Terminology of the Sefire Stelas,” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 22 (1963) 173ff. ↩
- The term imago Dei is not used in the rest of the Creation story; however, the concept of humanity’s being designated to carry out an assigned role for God is clearly implied. Indeed, the “covenantal” aspects of Creation are equally evident—if not moreso—in the subsequent narrative of Gen. 2:4ff. Following the formation of man (adam) from the earth, God grants him residence within a territory having fixed boundaries—described as a garden: Eden will correspond to the land promised to Abraham and his descendants (Gen. 12:7). There, the man is “to till/serve” and “to watch/maintain” the land; a task which corresponds to the duties assigned to humankind in Gen. 1:28. In this capacity, the Man names/catalogues the rest of created life, under the vigilant and interested eye of God (Gen. 2:19). The subsequent creation of Woman, in which she is to be an ezer kenegdo, “a helper-corresponding-to-man,” i.e. a full covenantal partner and ally, once again stresses the idea of mutual responsibility of “male and female” in fulfilling the divine commission. Noteworthy is the fact that tenure-rights of the pair are entirely dependent upon the decree of God (Gen. 2:16-17). Usurpation of the divine prerogative in deciding what is fitting and proper within the created order will result in the eviction of Man-Woman from royal property. The expulsion of humanity from its place in the Garden of Eden furnishes a prototype for Israel’s later Exile, due to its failure to adhere to the instruction of its Suzerain. ↩
- One would have expected le-. T. N. D. Mettinger, “Abbild oder Urbild? `Imago Dei’ in traditionsgeschichtlicher Sicht,” Zeitschrift fur alttestamentiliche Wissenschaft 86 (1974), 406ff., argues that be– and ke-, respectively, “in” and “as, according to,” are virtually synonymous, both meaning “according to.” ↩
- The expressions are m k‹ i/mi‹ ki, “in the form of/according to the form of” (cf. A. Erman and H. Grapow, Wörterbuch der Aegyptischen Sprache 4,16.12-16 [Berlin, 1982]); m ‹kd/mi‹ kd, lit. “in the form of” (ibid., 76.10-77.2); r mitt, “according to the likeness of” (“accordingly”) (ibid., 2, 41.6-7). The usual idiom is m k‹ i, “in the form of.” ↩
- The “our” of the divine pronouncement has been explained in a number of ways: 1) It is a remnant of polytheism; a suggestion that should be eliminated, not only on theological grounds, but logically—it is hard to believe that a reference to “gods” escaped editorial notice. 2) It is a “plural of majesty.” 3) It is a reference to the “Divine Council”—God surrounded by the court of heavenly beings (cf. for example, Isa. 6:8, “Whom shall I (God) send, and who will go for us?” ) This explanation has gained many adherents. 4) It should be seen referring to the Trinity; a view favored by the early church and championed by Barth (CD 3.1, 192ff.). One might offer that #3 does not necessarily preclude #4, and vice-versa, especially in light of the Heavenly Enthronement scene of Revelation 4-5. ↩
- In the Semitic and Hamito-Semitic languages of the ancient Near East, prepositional phrases are used not only adverbially—to modify a verbal clause—but also may be adnominal, qualifying a noun. The phenemonen occurs in Exodus 23:19 (//Deut. 14:21) in the command: “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk” (baḥalev `immo). Usually this is taken as a humane admonition not to cook the offspring of an animal in/within the lactic fluid of its parent. The reference, however, is not to a mode of food preparation (e.g. boiling in milk). Rather, the prepositional phrase applies to the state of the young beast itself: a kid-in-its-mother’s milk describes a young goat that is still being suckled and in the condition of nursing. Another use of a prepositional phrase introduced by beth (b-) to explicate a noun may be found in Jeremiah 10:12: “(Yahweh) is the one, who (being) in-his-strength (beḥoho) made the earth; who (being) in-his-wisdom (beḥokmatho) established the world; and (being) in his understanding (ubithbunatho) stretched out the heavens.” The prophet is not stating that God is creating the earth “in strength,” or the heavens “in wisdom,” e.g. as if these things were endowed with a specific attribute of divine power, or some divine force was transferred to their being. Instead it is God in God’s own peculiarity—God-in-his-strength, in-his-wisdom, in-his-understanding-—who has achieved such deeds. The phrases denote the uniqueness of God as Creator, as does Gen. 1:26-27. ↩
- In this connection, it should be noted that the “likeness” (demuth) of God is a particular concern of Ezekiel, a book which bears many theological and literary affinities with the so-called “Priestly” writer(s) (P); Genesis 1:1-2:4 has been assigned to P since the time of Julius Wellhausen in the 19th century with his formulation of the “Documentary Hypothesis.” Ezek 1:4-28 contains a lengthy and enigmatic description of God and the awesomeness of the Divine Presence. According to the prophet, God’s “likeness” is sui-generis, totally unique and other. This strengthens the probability that kidmuthenu in Gen. 1:26a (“according to our image”) should be taken in a similar fashion. ↩
- The passage in Gen. 9:6 containing the prohibition against murder must be understood as an offense against God’s divine action in Creation and therefore a violation of God’s sovereignty (cf. the discussion of Barth, CD 3.1, 197ff.). Similarly, Gen. 5:3b actually has no bearing on the imago Dei question, although the Hebrew formulation is somewhat parallel to that of Gen. 1:27: “And he (Adam) (being)-in-his-likeness, according-to-his-image (bidmutho kesalmo) (e.g. in his entirely human nature) fathered” (cf. Barth, ibid., 198ff.). ↩
- See the general remarks of Joseph Blenkinsopp, The Pentateuch: An Introduction to the First Five Books of the Bible (New York, 1992) 22; Roland Murphy, The Tree of Life: An Exploration of Biblical Wisdom Literature (New York, 1990) 1ff., 118ff. ↩
- The so-called “covenant of grant” (or covenant of promise); cf. M. Weinfeld, “The Covenant of Grant in the Old Testament and the Ancient Near East,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 90 (1970) 184ff. It might be argued that it is this sort of covenant which underlies Genesis 1:1-2:4. ↩
- We have noted that the “image of God” has often been linked to the idea of human “dominion;” and Gen. 1:26-27 is frequently explicated through the lens of the Davidic monarchy by commentators, relating it to the covenant of grant establishing that royal dynasty (cf. Levenson, op cit., 112f.). Without a doubt, the Old Testament—especially some of the Psalms (Ps. 89)—portrays David as exercising power upon the throne of Israel. Yet, it must be stressed that such a “rulership” is to be viewed not in terms of independence and autonomy, but of absolute and utter reliance upon the Word and Command of Israel’s God and Lord. Whatever the disparity between actual historical practice and the scriptural ideal, the promise to David and his heirs is correlated to the obligations of the Mosaic covenant. The king’s primary duty above all else, is “to fear the Lord, his God, by keeping all the words of this law and these statutes, and doing them… that he may not turn aside from the commandment, either to the right hand or the left” (Deut. 17:19-20). There is, in fact, a palpable constraint enjoined upon monarchs against doling out their own personal brand of “justice,” or acting out of arbitrary privilege. Guided by the “Spirit of the Lord” in the “knowledge and fear of God,” the anointed king of YHWH—“Shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips, he shall slay the wicked. Righteousness shall be the girdle of his waist, and faithfulness the girdle of his loins” (Isa. 11:3-5). Bearing witness to, and executing responsibly, the Divine Mandate, is the mantle—and burden—of rule. The “image” of, and for, the Davidic “viceroy,” ultimately is that of vassal to, and for, his Sovereign Lord, as much as the nation as a whole is subservient to covenantal statute. In this regard, Psalm 8 is often cited—rightly—as indicative of the exalted position of humanity; some of its language is clearly derived from “royal terminology” (Ps. 8:5-6). However, the psalm also speaks of human beings as existing under the utter sovereignty and verdict of God, whose title extends over all. The exercise of human rule itself is relativized and confined by divine fiat, and again, has its origin and legitimization in the grant of God. ↩
- Isa. 40-53. ↩
- See the comments on the Adam-Christ parallelism, in N. T. Wright, The Climax of the Covenant: Christ and the Law in Pauline Theology (Minneapolis, 1993) 90ff. ↩
- This would nicely support the Chalcedonian and Athanasian christological formulations, “fully God, fully human.” ↩
- As an “adjunct” to, not a control over, the canonical Scriptures. ↩
- Some might find such “feudal” imagery disturbing in the modern world; however, we would argue that such language and concepts are not “contingent to” the biblical message, but part of its “coherency.” ↩
- We are arguing here for a scripturally based understanding of the imago Dei, and for the corresponding ethical scheme; cf. the remarks of Richard B.Hays, “Salvation by Trust? Reading the Bible faithfully,” The Christian Century 114.7 (Feb. 26, 1997) 218ff.; idem., The Moral Vision of the New Testament: A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics (San Francisco, 1996) 187ff. ↩
- We would contend that such a covenantal view of the imago Dei, has very little to do with defining humanity by its “physicality,” “sexuality,” or “potentiality.” ↩






