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Making my way through life, ministry and marriage, always with a song stuck in my head.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Awards Night

This is the paper I submitted for the W. Taylor Stevenson Award in Contemporary Theology.

Living Into the Imago Dei:
Sharing Life Now and Not Yet


“Then God said, ‘let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.” So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them, male and female he created them.” Genesis 1: 26-27


Why is it that these two short and simple verses from the first creation story have caused much controversy over the years of the Church’s life? Humanity finds the source of our identity here, at our inception. Who and Whose are we? We are those created by God, to be like God. Yet theologians and scholars from Justin Martyr to Augustine to John Calvin to Rowan Williams do not agree on what it means to be “made in the image of God”. Christianity proclaims that all of humanity is created in the image of God. Indeed, wrapped up in the concept of the imago Dei is our human identity, as well as what we can potentially be and do as human. We find our source in the God of creation, our ideal pattern in the Incarnate God who offers redemption and recreation in Baptism, with the abiding Spirit of God as guidance for the journey towards living into our true identity.
It is significant for our identity as people that the God who is imaged in humanity is the God of creation. The story of creation does not only reveal our identity as humans, but it also tells us something about the God in whose image we are formed. Christianity has affirmed that the Trinity is present in the creation of the world. The Trinitarian God is radically relational, where the three persons exist as one substance in mutuality and unity. As Christians, we also believe that the God of the New Testament is the same God active in the creation of the world. Therefore, we can understand God in creation to be the God of whom it is written “God is Love”, and that love is manifested in the creation that God calls “good”. Creation tells us much about God, and “to speak of God as creator is to speak of a beneficent, generous God, whose love and will-to-community are freely, consistently, and fittingly displayed in the act of creation” . This is the same God in whose image we are formed.
Knowing that we are formed in the image of God the creator does not mean that we are the image of God. We are still created beings, separate from and dependent upon God. We are not eternal spiritual beings, rather, we are temporal physical beings. This distinction, that humanity is made in the image of God but is not God, has caused theologians to reflect upon what part of human nature is the image of God, or rather, what nature of God is imaged in humanity. The answers to this question are numerous, but typically fall into two categories . The first highlights similarities between God and human beings, stating that some attribute of God is inherently present in the makeup and nature of each human, while the second emphasizes the relational character of the imago Dei.
The particularities of the similarities to God, or the attributes present in humanity, vary with interpretation. These views tend to emphasize the difference between (often, superiority of) humanity over the animal world. The ability to reason is the most obvious distinguishing humans ability, and early church theologians, from Irenaeus to Augustine, emphasized rationality and reason as the marker of the imago Dei. . Phillip Edcumbe Hughes follows this tradition of seeking differences between humans and the rest of God’s creatures and finds six “main respects in which this surpassing excellence of man is clearly discernible; …namely, personality, spirituality, rationality, morality, authority and creativity” . Ultimately, these are all categories of potential for individual persons, but each person must choose whether or not to fully live into their potential abilities as a way of living in the image of God. Just as God freely chose to create out of God’s own grace and love, God had the freedom to choose otherwise. The structural view of the imago Dei then leaves us with one fundamental attribute of God present in humanity, that is, free will and the ability to choose life in God’s ways.
Alternatively, others have interpreted the imago Dei “as involving the capacity for relationship with God.” Because God lives in eternal relationship as Trinity, being made in the image of God is a call to live in relationship with God as well. In this view, the imago Dei functions as something people do, rather than are. According to this relational model, “The image of God is… to be understood as a relationship within which man sometimes stands, whenever like a mirror he obediently reflects God’s will in his life and actions” . Humanity serves as the image of God within creation when we live in peace and unity with God and the good creation, obeying God’s will in our lives and in the world. Living as beings created in the image of God means living in right relationship “with God, with others, with the earth and with self” . The emphasis on right relationships as a key to, or even the essence of, the imago Dei creates a shift in how humanity must view ourselves. Our position as the only creatures created in the image of God is no longer something to hold as evidence of our superiority, some kind of inalienable right to domination given at our birth. Rather, the imago Dei becomes a responsibility we must live into, and calling to a certain kind of ethic. The imago Dei sets the standard for right human living as those lives that reflect the nature of God, who is generous, loving, full of grace and compassion, and desires to be unified in community. We are called to live as God would have us live, and in doing so, we are able to reflect, or image, God’s grace; and in continuity with the imago Dei, we have been given the freedom to follow that call.
Unfortunately, the creation story in Genesis ends with humanity rejecting this call. Adam and Eve damage their relationship to creation by using it for gain rather than taking care of its goodness. They damage their relationship to one another and to God, by foregoing their “creaturely status, now they have intended to usurp the place of God” . Regardless of whether the imago Dei is something we do or something we are, Adam and Eve lose sight of what it means at this moment in the story. By rejecting their status as “created in the image of God” in favor of the potential to be God, Adam and Eve have introduced sin into God’s good creation. The world as we know and experience it today, an imperfect world of violence and sin where God’s creatures and creation are constantly abused, is inaugurated by the very creatures who were intended to be images of God.
Ironically, it is the very freedom of choice that is integral to the imago Dei that opened the possibility for the rejection of our own identity. After the Fall, humanity is left in a kind of identity crisis. We have interrupted our relationship with God, with one another, and with creation, and are no longer sure of who we are or how to get back to living into the image of God. Humanity is in need of being made at one with God again. We are in need of atonement.
The agent of atonement, Jesus Christ, fulfills what humanity is no longer capable of doing. Jesus Christ is not created in the image of God, but rather is the image of God (2 Corinthians 4:4). The imago Dei as re-revealed in Jesus Christ is “the image in which humankind was initially created and embodies the destiny to which we are called” . Through the Incarnation, Jesus becomes fully human. The life of Jesus provides us with an ethical model and a way of living. He begins His ministry with new life by establishing Baptism as the sacrament of rebirth. He is the image of God for us through his freedom of choice, which he uses to establish right relationships with all of creation. Jesus exemplified the right use of our freedom. By resisting the temptations of self-sufficiency and supreme power in the wilderness, Jesus claims his image and his identity as one fully in relationship with, and therefore dependent upon, God. Jesus demonstrates his radical relationship with creation when we see that even thunder and lighting will listen to his voice. In Christ’s solidarity with lepers, tax collectors, and rulers, we see a way that we can live in right relation with all humanity.
In the face of this image and the opportunity for reconciliation, however, humanity’s freedom again chooses against God, and Jesus is crucified. This time, however, God reminds us that humanity is only created in the image of God. Through the Resurrection, we learn that God can and will triumph over human choices. Our rejection of the Image of God in Christ is restored to new life through the Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection; our rejection of the image of God in ourselves can be redeemed by patterning our own lives after Christ. In Christ, we find again what it means to be created in the image of God. Jesus is the new Adam because in Jesus we can be re-created through Baptism in the image of God. Through Baptism and new life, ministry with Jesus offers us redemption from ourselves and from our crisis of identity that has created this world of sin and violence, and we are free to claim our redemption by choosing to turn towards Christ. This redemption means restoration to wholeness, to fully imaging the God of Creation, the God who is Love.
We are now free to choose to pattern our lives after the example of Christ, and to once again image God in the world, by being re-created through Baptism as members of the living Body of Christ. Through our participation in the Body of Christ, the Church, we are able to catch glimpses of the image of God, as we learn individually and collectively to reflect God’s glory and mercy, love and grace through our common lives. But the very thing that allows us to image God – our freedom, is the very thing that keeps from imaging God fully with our lives. Like the Kingdom of God, we are “now, but not yet” living into the imago Dei. The reconciliation and restoration has begun, and continues as we struggle and learn to pattern our lives after Christ, and will be fully realized in the fullness of time. “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known” .
Unfortunately, the “now, not yet” antiphon is easily used as an excuse for non-action. The logic generally goes, “We do not need to be too concerned about the ills of society, since God’s Kingdom is only partially realized now. That will all get taken care of in the future.” But we must remember that through the Resurrection, Christ has already begun the work of reconciliation by establishing victory over the powers of this world. As imitators of Christ, we have already been called to participate in the ongoing work of reconciliation, of feeding the poor, and healing the sick. In this modern society, we have a unique and “concrete opportunity to act as ‘people of the resurrection’” by choosing to be organ donors. In 2000, it was estimated that 100,000 people in America could be treated with heart transplants, but there are only approximately 10,000 donors per year . Through donating our organs to help extend the lives of others, we can share in the healing work of God that is desperately needed in the here and now.
Organ donation should not really be a controversial subject for most people of faith. Many faiths and denominations have issued statements in support of organ donation . In a study of clergy attitudes towards organ donation, 77.3% of the congregational clergy surveyed were willing to donate their organs after their death, but only 57.8% had actually signed donor cards . Why the discrepancy? Organ donation is a literal example of the “here, not yet”. The decision to donate organs is made by a particular person in their lifetime, but the decision is typically not carried out until after that individual’s death. At this point, the decision to donate organs is placed in the hands of grieving family members. While some families choose to donate the organs of their loved one, many others decide not to donate in the end.
Why do so many family members decide against donation? The following letter was written to “Dear Abby” by a woman who was frustrated by her family and friends’ refusals to witness her registration for an organ donor list.

My husband said, “You can’t imagine how hard it would be for me to agree to something like that.”
The rest of my family refused because they are afraid some doctors might get “scalpel happy” and start removing the organs they need before I’m dead.
I took the form to church five Sundays in a row trying to get tow witnesses for my signature, but nobody would sign it. They said I might need all my parts at the Resurrection, and they didn’t want to be responsible for my being resurrected without a badly needed organ.”

These are common attitudes towards organ donation, particularly the fear of doctors retrieving organs before a patient is deceased. One study shows that 28% of the general public believe that “doctors would treat donors less aggressively than nondonors”, and the numbers were higher in minority communities . Only 4% of healthcare workers in the same study agreed to the same statement, perhaps because they have clearer understanding of medical death. So, what does it mean to be dead? The medical understanding of death has changed over time as medical science and technology has changed. Michael Rees notes that tissues in the body die at varying rates, “so, death has to be thought of as a process rather than a precise event. The question is what body part or function has to be permanently lost before we consider someone to be dead.” The contemporary understanding defines death through brain death, that is, “the complete and irreversible loss of brain and brain stem function.” Cadaveric organ donation cannot legally occur without brain death. However, with our current medical technology, we are able to keep certain organs functioning after the point of brain death. Christine Gallagher observes the difficulty in coming “to terms with a person’s death when they are still connected to a respirator and appear to be ‘sleeping’” and underscores the need for pastoral caregivers to help families understand brain death . By creating understanding and providing care and comfort in the dying process, families may be more willing to consent to organ donation without fear that treatment is being denied to their loved one.
Discussions around death and organ donation cannot wait until death is imminent. The decision to donate organs should be discussed during our lifetime. As Christians, we are called to share the Good News of God in Jesus. We are called to be aware of God’s active presence in our lives, and how faith, hope, and love have changed our lives and ourselves. We are called to share our successes, and our failures, in patterning our lives after Christ. The act of donating our organs, and discussing this with our families and friends, is a concrete way to talk about how we live into the imago Dei. Organ donation is a tangible way to express the inter-relatedness and interdependence of humanity, just as the Trinity is radically interdependent. Just as God freely chose to create out of God’s own grace and love, we are free to choose to pass on life. As people of the resurrected Christ, we believe that life can come from death – surely, we have gained life through the death of Christ. What more appropriate way to image Christ than to create the possibility for more abundant life through our own death? Organ donation allows this to happen, and allows us to pass on the hope we have received. There is inspiration and hope rooted in God’s work of reconciliation, and we can evidence that by choosing organ donation. But we can only do this if we are willing to talk about our decision, and share how our gift comes from God’s gift of life to us.
The metaphor of “gift of life” has been the predominant one in campaigns promoting organ donation, yet some have questioned its use. Siminoff and Chillag argue that this metaphor, while encouraging donation, is “also inaccurate and sometimes deeply damaging for the recipient” . Citing anthropological research on gift exchange theory, the authors present the difficulty of a gift that cannot be repaid. The recipient of the organ is burdened by feelings of guilt and responsibility to somehow repay this gift. They are “obligated” by the gift to comply with treatment, to be grateful at all costs. The patient must also deal with the weighty realization that someone had to die for their chance to continue on with life. Finally, Siminoff and Chillag believe that the “gift of life” metaphor paints such a noble picture of the transplant process that the resulting atmosphere suppresses realistic discussions of the difficult life as a transplant recipient.
Writing in response to Siminoff and Chillag, Lauritzen and his colleagues make the observation that
the sense of indebtedness is not created by the metaphor of the gift of life. It derives rather from the recipients’ knowledge that with the new organ they have a chance for continued life, and without it they do not. If the sense of incurring a debt that cannot be paid is a problem, it is a problem regardless of whether the metaphor of the gift if central to organ procurement .

As Christians, we have a sense of what it means to be given a gift that is undeserved and cannot be repaid. We call it grace and salvation. Even with our history of corporate and personal sin, the denial of who we are called to be as creatures in God’s image, we are forgiven, restored and redeemed through Christ. We also know what it is to find life when you are weighed down by death. We call it resurrection. Yet, Christian lives are not lived in fantastic states of constant joy. The faith and hope that we have from our experience of God’s grace and goodness are the same faith and hope that sustain us in dark times. All of humanity has received a gift of life “now but not yet”. That gift does not give us the freedom to ignore the need for healing in the world around us. On the contrary, the juxtaposition of the image of God in ourselves and the brokenness in our lives should give us the freedom to hear the difficulties and struggles of transplant recipients, rather than impose expectations that recipients “grin and bear it” as a measure of their gratitude.
If we then choose to try to pattern our lives after the example of Christ, Jesus instructs us to give as we have been given to: “Love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” . We are still accustomed to receiving something in return for our good deeds. Workers in soup kitchens and other outreach ministries often speak of receiving more than they give. Organ donation is not like that. We can feel better imagining the good that might come from our own death. Our family members may find comfort in having life come from our deaths. But we as organ donors will not be thanked, or see the recipient live to attend their son’s graduation or daughter’s wedding – we will be dead. Those positive outcomes may not even occur, as organ transplants are not always successful. The choice to be an organ donor is ultimately an act of hope.
Perhaps this is the final and ultimate way in which humanity can live into the imago Dei. We can be creatures who act on hope. God created us with the freedom to live as God would have us live, reflecting grace and love with our very being. When we chose not to answer that call, God remained active in the world and eventually sent Jesus to begin the work of reconciliation through resurrection. God continues present in our lives today, never giving up hope that we will learn to follow in the new life of Jesus. We, in turn, can choose to image this God by being people of resurrection and new life, by living lives that struggle for reconciliation and restoration, and dying deaths of healing, promise, and hope.