Living The Image, In and Out.
Leadership Through the Lens of Divine Creation
My heart longs for grand gestures of love Because my heart longs for You And You are fullness of love. Your generosity overflowed into life: Into creation delicate and intricate, Into galaxies and shallow ocean pools, Into the atoms of the air and my frizzy hair. You hovered and You were present there, Father, Spirit, Son, creating in tandem, Co-laborers and lovers of the work And lovers of loving hearts made like Yours. You spoke, You loved, and it was good. You - ha - You in Your infinitude rested That I may know rest is a good you made, too. You really think of everything, don't You? -Grand Gestures: Creation by Faith Danielson
This is one of three essays written in reflection on my readings for a course on Leadership and Spiritual Formation taken through Wheaton College.
In the beginning pages of Marc Cortez’ chapter on the Imago Dei in Theological Anthropology, he argues that this “juxtaposition of the human and the divine [...] opens the door to a fundamental reorientation of each” and “stand[s] at the very center of a properly Christian concept of what it means to be human”. Ultimately, there is no better roadmap to knowing our design as a unique creation than a return to a fundamental understanding of the language God uses to first describe us, a creation made in his image and likeness. This gives us a Biblical foundation upon which we understand our fundamental calling as humanity and how all our action has the potential to be imbued with God’s likeness through His presence. As we learn how we have been shaped by God, we in turn learn how this shapes the way we view ourselves as partakers of the created world.
Before analyzing what the image is, it is important to clarify what the imago Dei is not. Boiling the imago Dei into a single characteristic, capacity, role or task, we risk justifying our creation and exclusion of out-groups, dividing our species into class-like sub-sects with varied degrees of ‘image bearing’ humanness. What it means to be made in the image should go hand-in-hand with how we identify the nature of Christ, the image of the invisible God (Col 1:15). Jesus was not named as the Son of God based on a single characteristic or trait deduced by his actions, but because God identifies Jesus as The Son before the beginning of his ministry (Matt 3:17). To believe in the same faith that our likeness is inherent to our being means that we cannot settle for the interpretation which Cortez calls a functional image- that the imago Dei is something that we do, not something that we are. If this were the case, our ‘imageness’ would only exist insofar as we fulfill the role we were assigned, which some scholars argue is defined by the ‘and let them rule’ clause in Genesis 1:26. To not comply with the expectations of an arbitrary job description would go against our design and therefore disqualify us from the imago Dei. Not only this, but to qualify the imago as a function would require us to create a spectrum of worthiness, or the degree with which we are in the image based on how well we are fulfilling our function.
If humans are upheld in Scripture as structurally different from other animals, the imago is also argued to be a capacity that is uniquely identifiable in our species- namely the human ability to reason, self-determine, symbolize, and self-transcend (p. 18) reflecting the rationality and wisdom of God. While we believe God is ultimately rational and wise, this is not the defining essence of Godself or our humanity. This is to go against a scriptural understanding that all the heavens play a role in the declaration and reflection of God’s glory (Ps 19:1), and not purely by all of creation’s rationality or self determination. To uphold the capacity for rational thought as the epitome of what identifies us as human is also a starkly modern understanding of our role in creation, hence how a cultural conception might be informing the way we understand the imago Dei. Firstly, the structural is also an approach that Cortez notes is highly individualistic and fails to acknowledge the imago being bestowed on humanity corporately. Secondly, this approach also risks excluding humans who might not exhibit capacities of a ‘perfect’ person, “where ‘perfect’ means to be successful, attractive, young and not disabled” (p. 20). Are the unsuccessful, the unattractive, the elderly and disabled excluded from the full capacity of the imago in this interpretation? Not to mention the ambiguity in our definitions of success, attractiveness, youth and ability.
Another cultural conception of the imago that Cortez deems reductionistic is one based on the inherent relational nature of God. As “fundamentally relational beings- related to God, to other humans, and to creation,” humans reflect this imago in the essential relationality of humans with one another that the Trinity has within itself (p. 24). Other evidence is what Cortez calls the use of a ‘divine plural’ in Genesis 1:26; that “let us make make man in our image” suggests a corporate creation of humanity or one that necessitates community or relationality, notably with the differentiation between man and woman and their necessity for each other in Genesis 2. While we see Jesus’ ministry on Earth being highly relational and ultimately bringing about the reunification of humanity in right relationship with one another through the birth of the Church, taking into account the “prominence of relationality in modern thought” (p. 27) should heighten our awareness as to how we might be coming to conclusions on an interpretation of the imago without doing our due diligence to recognize the influence of our postmodern philosophical/theological context.
All arguments that attempt to reduce the language of image and likeness into a prescriptive, single faceted meaning tend to break down under exegetical or logical scrutiny. These interpretations denote an essential function or meaning to the imago and attempt to ultimately answer a bigger question: who do we know God to be? Cortez concludes that while these are all aspects of God’s character reflected in our creation, to see the imago as any one function cuts off a more universal, grace-filled interpretation of the imago we as humans are uniquely endowed with. To read the imago as merely a capacity the heart (relational), the head (structural, ability to reason), or the hand (functional, fulfilling a role) limits the work of reflecting the image and likeness of God to one ‘limb’ of human ability. Left in disarray, we arrive back to the unanswered question: what is imago Dei?
Cortez’ fundamental return to the Hebrew terms used to describe image and likeness, tselem and demut, largely informs his position built on a belief that the imago Dei is ultimately the presence of the Divine in creation through His creation. What Cortez determines is “a representation that affirms the presence of the divine reality in the symbol (i.e., the human person) while affirming a real difference between them” (p. 32) comes from understanding tselem and demut as two of twelve different terms used in Scripture to describe idol worship (such as Baal in 2 Ch 23:17) in the context of the ancient Near East when Genesis was written. Idols were not venerated as a symbolic representation of deity, but as the material means by which the divine would enter the world and be present in its creation. Through ceremonial ritual, a divine presence was believed to infuse its own life in the statue to live among and interact with its worshippers. In this interpretation, the imago Dei serves as a means of presence instead of a capacity that created humans must fulfill as a function of their existence. God’s image, perfectly embodied in the full deity of Jesus Christ, “mak[es] visible the invisible qualities of God” (p. 32). This is not determined by the actions of Jesus’ ministry, but by the fact that God became present among His people. Can we understand what it means to be made in the image of God based on Jesus, the representative of God-made-flesh?
If the image of God is all-encompassing of the human form, then an understanding of imago means our capacity to lead and influence are imbued with a similar presence of God. Like the imago Dei, leadership is not designated to a specific, preordained group based on giftedness or skillset. The fullness of leadership and the potential for it is inherent to our created nature in the image of God. Although exercised to varying degrees and in a multitude of markets, asserting universal imago Dei of all mankind as an essential presence rather than function also denotes the inherent trait of leadership that accompanies all humankind. The imago Dei in us is revealed ultimately in what Cortez calls personal presence- that we were created for personal engagement and dialogue with God, “mark[ing] the human out as the creature to whom God speaks, expresses his desire, and expects a response” (p. 33). We reflect this nature of God’s relationship with us by how we seek to respond to our divine design in the practice of leadership. We recognize the role we play as leaders is only effective when done in collaboration with others- the same way God recognizes Adam’s need for a helper in the garden. Leadership is not a solo show; we necessarily need the giftings and expertise of all people and all leadership styles.
How we view ourselves as leaders should begin with how we view ourselves as created beings of God. What shapes the flourishing of effective leaders should not start with an analysis of strategic decision making or professional review but rather a reaffirmation in what it means to be human and how that affects the way we lead people towards flourishing all the more. A rightly centered identity can only come as an outflow of something grounded in what God has already done. Understanding our humanity from a basic interpretation of the imago Dei grounds our dignity and value in nothing more than the presence of God in us and what that should enable as a result. The imago Dei shapes a view of oneself as a vessel of Christ’s divinity and presence in creation and prompts our responsibility to be leaders that hold Christ’s presence in the workplace with the same posture. There is no better example of God’s embodied presence and what that consequently requires of us than observing Jesus’ ministry and what He prioritized as the rightful, perfect representation of the imago Dei. When we see the imago Dei as a representation and not a capacity, we see Jesus not in light of what he did in his ministry, but what his ministry represented. As with the misinterpretations of the imago Dei, our leadership is not defined solely by our capacity to make decision (structural), foster healthy relationships (relational), or manage an organization (functional) but by an integration of them all within a Christ-like heart posture of humility and servitude. Jesus did not prove to be the Christ by his capacity to heal the sick, defend the law, or draw thousands of people to him, but by his personhood, by living as a man and a flawless example of what we should seek to be, free from sin and disordered desires.
Healthy leadership starts first and foremost with presence, with the same active engagement that God expects of His relationship with His creation. Anything less than this and leadership will inevitably boil down to capacities that we are either exemplifying or failing at. If we want to be effective as leaders, we begin with the personal journey of learning what the imago Dei enables in us. What we see in Jesus’ ministry is a form of leadership marked by humility and self-sacrifice, coming to earth not to be served but to serve (Mk. 10:45). Jesus came as the great Equalizer- not reserving salvation for the blameless and upright, but acknowledging the imago Dei in all of humankind and eating with tax collectors, touching the leper, forgiving those who crucified Him.
Our understanding of the imago Dei should have profound impacts for how we approach the nature of the work God has given to us to tend and to keep (Gen 2:15). The command for us is twofold: right relationship vertically between us and our creator, and horizontally between us and our community. I am of the mind that the two go hand in hand, that right relationship with God through understanding who we were created to be has a profound impact on how we represent God’s image in the horizontal human-to-human relationships we have in the created world. The right approach to leadership is one that is intentional with the personal relationship that God intended for us to have with Him. The practice of this comes in the form of confession and communion with the living God and with right behavior in leading others as the byproduct to healthy relationship with God. Knowing ourselves as leaders to be made in the image of God comes with a responsibility to honor the divine image that is present in all individuals and should spur us to action to preserve and defend this in the manner Jesus did. Even to self-sacrifice. The imago Dei does not enable overt power and authority over fellow humans, but should promote our collective movement towards right relationship with one another as God’s creation. A leader’s role in this becomes one of a shepherd- a visionary who begins by practically exemplifying what the imago Dei should evoke, which is a culture of servanthood, forgiveness, and personal relationship that acknowledges humanity in one another.
The imago Dei, like leadership, is dynamic. Knowing who we are created in the imago requires a movement towards a fullness and restoration of right relationship with God. Leadership, in the same way, is in vain if a leader is stagnant and rigid in their approach to both their own life and their realm of influence. We are granted the unique gift of representing the presence of God in creation and this rightfully should spur us toward a desire to rightfully uphold the essence of our humanity and God’s will to be preeminent in all of creation, including our calling as leaders.