Picking up on a line of thought from an earlier post, I intend to explore a little more of what it means to be created in God's image.
Those who believe the truthfulness of Scripture must affirm that every human being reflects or "images" who God is, more than any other kind of created being. We bear His image structurally -- it is "hardwired" into what it means to be human -- and can be seen in our faculties to reason, choose, emote, form relationships, make covenants, work, and create. And before humankind rebelled against God's rule and fell under His curse, we bore His image functionally -- we reflected God not only in what we could do but also in how we did it. Human beings were created good; when God created humans He called His creation very good (Gen 1:31).
When Adam and Eve rebelled against God and came under the curse (Gen 3:16-19), the image of God remained, but it was damaged in us. The image is retained in its structural sense -- human beings still have the faculties we had before. But the functional image has been lost. We are not capable of doing the good we ought; we do not live and use our abilities in the God-worshiping, neighbor-loving way that we were created for (Ps 143:2; Isa 64:6; Rom 3:9-20). We could describe it this way: Human beings are like mirrors, created to reflect who God is. But through our sin we have struck the mirror in its center so that it is cracked and broken. It still reflects. But what it reflects is now distorted, the image ruined.
The fact that the image of God remains provides a strong basis for human rights and inherent human dignity. This account of human being also explains better than any other how we can see such great good and great evil at the same time in humanity. We are bearers of the image of the Creator, more like Him than anything else in the universe, and are therefore capable of brilliant accomplishments in the arts and sciences. We carry the image of the Holy One, of whom the seraphim cry out, "Holy, Holy, Holy" (Isa 6:3), who calls Himself Love (I Jn 4:8), and are therefore capable of extraordinary acts of kindness and self-sacrifice. But we are broken and shattered as well, and therefore capable of taking science and destroying life with it, of taking the arts and profaning truth and beauty with it, of acting in extraordinarily cruel and selfish ways.
If we are to bear His image properly once again, we will need to be remade. And broken artifacts do not repair themselves. If human beings are to become all of which we are capable, then we will need to learn to look outside of ourselves toward the One who made us.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The image of God and the unborn
Many churches across the U. S. observe Sanctity of Life Sunday each year. Typically a Sunday is selected near the date when Roe v. Wade was handed down. Our congregation observed Sanctity of Life Sunday on January 18th; other churches will observe it this Sunday, the 25th. We mourn the death of nearly 50 million children since 1973 because of abortion. We pray for our society to repent. We call our congregations to give their time and their resources to aid mothers facing crisis pregnancies and their unborn children.
Why observe the Sanctity of Life each year? Why does the status of the unborn trouble so many Christians? The answers are rooted in the Bible's teaching about the image of God. The repeated teaching of Scripture is that every human being is created in the image of God (Gen 1:26-28; Gen 5:1-3; Gen 9:6; Ps 8; Jas 3:9-10). Whole books have been written on what that means (especially this excellent book by Anthony Hoekema, Created in God's Image).
Those who believe the truthfulness of Scripture must affirm that every human being reflects or "images" who God is, more than any other kind of created being. As such, any assault on this image is an assault on God Himself (Gen 9:6; Jas 3:9-10). This reality provides the soil in which inherent human dignity grows. It is the basis for human rights and the sanctity of all human life.
In another post, I will explore a little further what the image of God means. But in thinking about the Sanctity of Life, I want to go in another direction for now. Every human being "images" God. In this respect we are unique in the created order. Image-bearing is part and parcel of what it means to be a human being. Everywhere the creature called homo sapiens is present, there the image of God is present.
That includes those members of homo sapiens who are still in the womb. From the moment of conception, the type of biological being that has been brought into existence is a human being. The DNA that is present is human DNA. Given time, protection, and nutrition, the human zygote becomes a human blastocyst, which becomes a human embryo, which becomes a human fetus, which in fact is a human infant located inside the womb. What kind of being are we talking about? A human being. The stage of development or level of viability does not change the biological reality that the being is human. And where there is human being, there is the image of God. And where there is the image of God, there is life with inherent dignity, worthy of respect and justice.
The way that God relates to the unborn in Scripture confirms their humanity and dignity. In Psalm 139, David describes God's complete knowledge of him and the intimacy of their relationship. He includes these words: "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb... Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them" (vs. 13, 16). Exodus 21:22-25, properly understood, showcases God's equal concern for unborn children and their mothers (see this helpful article regarding the ways this passage is misused to justify abortion). The Spirit of God rested on John the Baptist even in his mother's womb (Luke 1:15, 41-44).
From the moment of conception, the image of God is present. The unborn are fully human, fully image bearers, and therefore fully worthy of respect and justice. Abortion is therefore the taking of human life. Legalized abortion is therefore an assault on human dignity. If the God of the Bible is a God of mercy and justice who cares for the alien, the fatherless, and the widow -- the Bible's shorthand for those people in human society who lack power and resources to defend themselves and seek justice -- if that is what God is like, then that is what His people should be like as well (Exod 22:21-24; Deut 10:16-20; Ps 10:17-18; Ps 82:3-4; Isa 1:16-17; Matt 25:31-46; Jas 1:27).
And that means that Christians must defend the cause of the unborn. And that means that as long as the destruction of unborn human life is legal and is considered a moral, acceptable course of action, our churches need to observe Sanctity of Life Sunday.
Why observe the Sanctity of Life each year? Why does the status of the unborn trouble so many Christians? The answers are rooted in the Bible's teaching about the image of God. The repeated teaching of Scripture is that every human being is created in the image of God (Gen 1:26-28; Gen 5:1-3; Gen 9:6; Ps 8; Jas 3:9-10). Whole books have been written on what that means (especially this excellent book by Anthony Hoekema, Created in God's Image).
Those who believe the truthfulness of Scripture must affirm that every human being reflects or "images" who God is, more than any other kind of created being. As such, any assault on this image is an assault on God Himself (Gen 9:6; Jas 3:9-10). This reality provides the soil in which inherent human dignity grows. It is the basis for human rights and the sanctity of all human life.
In another post, I will explore a little further what the image of God means. But in thinking about the Sanctity of Life, I want to go in another direction for now. Every human being "images" God. In this respect we are unique in the created order. Image-bearing is part and parcel of what it means to be a human being. Everywhere the creature called homo sapiens is present, there the image of God is present.
That includes those members of homo sapiens who are still in the womb. From the moment of conception, the type of biological being that has been brought into existence is a human being. The DNA that is present is human DNA. Given time, protection, and nutrition, the human zygote becomes a human blastocyst, which becomes a human embryo, which becomes a human fetus, which in fact is a human infant located inside the womb. What kind of being are we talking about? A human being. The stage of development or level of viability does not change the biological reality that the being is human. And where there is human being, there is the image of God. And where there is the image of God, there is life with inherent dignity, worthy of respect and justice.
The way that God relates to the unborn in Scripture confirms their humanity and dignity. In Psalm 139, David describes God's complete knowledge of him and the intimacy of their relationship. He includes these words: "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb... Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them" (vs. 13, 16). Exodus 21:22-25, properly understood, showcases God's equal concern for unborn children and their mothers (see this helpful article regarding the ways this passage is misused to justify abortion). The Spirit of God rested on John the Baptist even in his mother's womb (Luke 1:15, 41-44).
From the moment of conception, the image of God is present. The unborn are fully human, fully image bearers, and therefore fully worthy of respect and justice. Abortion is therefore the taking of human life. Legalized abortion is therefore an assault on human dignity. If the God of the Bible is a God of mercy and justice who cares for the alien, the fatherless, and the widow -- the Bible's shorthand for those people in human society who lack power and resources to defend themselves and seek justice -- if that is what God is like, then that is what His people should be like as well (Exod 22:21-24; Deut 10:16-20; Ps 10:17-18; Ps 82:3-4; Isa 1:16-17; Matt 25:31-46; Jas 1:27).
And that means that Christians must defend the cause of the unborn. And that means that as long as the destruction of unborn human life is legal and is considered a moral, acceptable course of action, our churches need to observe Sanctity of Life Sunday.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Death be not proud
Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls' delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
John Donne, Holy Sonnet X
Tomorrow morning I will put the body of a dear friend in the ground. Tomorrow morning I will help a man say goodbye to his wife, children say goodbye to their mother, grandchildren say goodbye to the woman they called Grandma. It will be a holy moment. I am honored to have any part to play in this funeral at all.
Helen lived 84 years on this earth. As I hear the stories about her life, as I gather the facts so that I can deliver the eulogy, I can only conclude that she is a remarkable woman. I use "is" on purpose -- Helen's soul may have been torn from her body by death, but she lives still in the presence of her Savior. She is remarkable. Married 63 years to the same man. Mother to two children biologically and to 23 foster children, two of whom came permanently into her home and were embraced into her family as her own. Faithful servant and woman of prayer. A baker of legendary lemon meringue pies.
I never got to know that Helen. When I met her almost three years ago, Alzheimer's had already gripped her body and mind. But some things run deeper than a disease can reach. Her joy, her stubbornness, her generosity were all plain to see. After six months here, my wife and I realized that Helen was one of our best friends. From her we received an unconditional love that far too often is missing from our churches.
Watching her decline was horrible. For the past few months, we could only pray that God would be merciful to her. Last Saturday, they thought she had a kidney infection. On Sunday her kidneys failed. Early Tuesday morning she was finally at peace. But now her family and friends have to learn to go on living without her.
I hate death. I loathe it with a passion I cannot convey through this keyboard. It is a visceral hatred that only intensifies upon further reflection. My only consolation is that God hates it even more than I do, and that one day Christ will conquer the last enemy and throw it into a lake of fire (I Cor 15:26; Rev 20:14). One day I will see Helen again, and her body will not be wracked by age nor her mind eroded by disease. She will be fully alive, her soul aflame with the joy of seeing her risen, triumphant, glorious Lord.
John Donne was not a Puritan. But his poetry speaks to my soul, and Holy Sonnet X expresses my feelings about death as well as any non-inspired writing. It is of some comfort to think on these words: "Death, thou shalt die."
Tomorrow morning I will put the body of a dear friend in the ground. Tomorrow morning I will help a man say goodbye to his wife, children say goodbye to their mother, grandchildren say goodbye to the woman they called Grandma. It will be a holy moment. I am honored to have any part to play in this funeral at all.
Helen lived 84 years on this earth. As I hear the stories about her life, as I gather the facts so that I can deliver the eulogy, I can only conclude that she is a remarkable woman. I use "is" on purpose -- Helen's soul may have been torn from her body by death, but she lives still in the presence of her Savior. She is remarkable. Married 63 years to the same man. Mother to two children biologically and to 23 foster children, two of whom came permanently into her home and were embraced into her family as her own. Faithful servant and woman of prayer. A baker of legendary lemon meringue pies.
I never got to know that Helen. When I met her almost three years ago, Alzheimer's had already gripped her body and mind. But some things run deeper than a disease can reach. Her joy, her stubbornness, her generosity were all plain to see. After six months here, my wife and I realized that Helen was one of our best friends. From her we received an unconditional love that far too often is missing from our churches.
Watching her decline was horrible. For the past few months, we could only pray that God would be merciful to her. Last Saturday, they thought she had a kidney infection. On Sunday her kidneys failed. Early Tuesday morning she was finally at peace. But now her family and friends have to learn to go on living without her.
I hate death. I loathe it with a passion I cannot convey through this keyboard. It is a visceral hatred that only intensifies upon further reflection. My only consolation is that God hates it even more than I do, and that one day Christ will conquer the last enemy and throw it into a lake of fire (I Cor 15:26; Rev 20:14). One day I will see Helen again, and her body will not be wracked by age nor her mind eroded by disease. She will be fully alive, her soul aflame with the joy of seeing her risen, triumphant, glorious Lord.
John Donne was not a Puritan. But his poetry speaks to my soul, and Holy Sonnet X expresses my feelings about death as well as any non-inspired writing. It is of some comfort to think on these words: "Death, thou shalt die."
Thursday, January 8, 2009
An unexpected time of rest
I should probably provide some explanation as to why it has been so long since I have posted...
The week of Christmas is always extra busy, all the more so this year because my family was out-of-town December 27th to January 3rd to visit family in South Carolina and Florida. Although the pulpit at Bethel was filled for 12/28, it was not filled for 1/4. So I spent the short week before Christmas preparing for my sermon on 1/4, planning the Christmas Eve services at Bethel, and holding some unexpected meetings with volunteers that were difficult but ultimately helpful. Christmas morning came as quite a relief for the opportunity to rest (my daughter is not yet two years old, so the idea of getting up before the sun to open gifts has not yet possessed her).
Our roadtrip to the South, as happens with most such trips, was a mix of good times and frustrating times. While on the road, I thought about what to post when we got back. In particular, I wanted to find a clever way to use barbecue -- real barbecue cooked slowly over low heat with smoke for superior flavor -- to illustrate some deep theological point.
We were back on Staten Island on Saturday night. We worshiped at Bethel on Sunday. On Monday night, my daughter came down with stomach flu. On Tuesday evening I did. So far my wife has not contracted it. But even though I have continued to do some reading and study from home, any grander plans have been scuttled for now. Instead much of the week has been an unexpected time of rest, with the high point being the introduction of Jell-o into my diet to supplement Gatorade, unsalted crackers, and toast.
I would write about how the stomach flu has deepened my appreciation of food and drink as gifts from God, or how much more I anticipate the return of Christ and the new body that I will receive then. But honestly my faith has been much more focused on asking God to provide swift healing and endurance, and on seeking to keep Christ as my joy and treasure despite how I feel physically. Sometimes when you are sick, that is as profound as you can get.
The week of Christmas is always extra busy, all the more so this year because my family was out-of-town December 27th to January 3rd to visit family in South Carolina and Florida. Although the pulpit at Bethel was filled for 12/28, it was not filled for 1/4. So I spent the short week before Christmas preparing for my sermon on 1/4, planning the Christmas Eve services at Bethel, and holding some unexpected meetings with volunteers that were difficult but ultimately helpful. Christmas morning came as quite a relief for the opportunity to rest (my daughter is not yet two years old, so the idea of getting up before the sun to open gifts has not yet possessed her).
Our roadtrip to the South, as happens with most such trips, was a mix of good times and frustrating times. While on the road, I thought about what to post when we got back. In particular, I wanted to find a clever way to use barbecue -- real barbecue cooked slowly over low heat with smoke for superior flavor -- to illustrate some deep theological point.
We were back on Staten Island on Saturday night. We worshiped at Bethel on Sunday. On Monday night, my daughter came down with stomach flu. On Tuesday evening I did. So far my wife has not contracted it. But even though I have continued to do some reading and study from home, any grander plans have been scuttled for now. Instead much of the week has been an unexpected time of rest, with the high point being the introduction of Jell-o into my diet to supplement Gatorade, unsalted crackers, and toast.
I would write about how the stomach flu has deepened my appreciation of food and drink as gifts from God, or how much more I anticipate the return of Christ and the new body that I will receive then. But honestly my faith has been much more focused on asking God to provide swift healing and endurance, and on seeking to keep Christ as my joy and treasure despite how I feel physically. Sometimes when you are sick, that is as profound as you can get.
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