I know very little Latin. I never studied it in school; and although many homeschooling families incorporate it into their curriculum, we have not chosen to do that. As a result, about all the phrases that I know of that language are "veni, vidi, vici" (I came, I saw, I conquered) and "carpe diem" (seize the day) which happens to be my personal favorite, when it comes to Latin phrases, because it encouraged Jeff to pursue me back in '96, even when the odds were stacked high against him! :)
But there is one other bit of Latin that I know, and it has repeatedly winged its way through my mind this year. It's the phrase, "Imago Dei." Translated simply, it means "Image of God"; and (because Wikipedia expresses it more succinctly and eloquently than I could, I'll quote from there) it is "a concept and theological doctrine within the Abrahamic religions which asserts that human beings are created in God's image and therefore have inherent value independent of their utility or function."
The classic Imago Dei reference in Scripture comes very early in the Bible, the 27th verse of the first chapter, as a matter of fact. "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." But the verse I like even better, because it penetrates my heart and convicts me more, comes later in Genesis. After the flood, in the ninth chapter of Genesis, God speaks to Noah and reminds him that "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made man." In the first chapter, before sin had entered the world and altered the inherent perfection of creation, I would expect no less than to read that mankind was created in God's image and, as such, occupied a high, honored place in the order of things. But after the flood? After humans had shown the shocking and terrible extent of their wickedness? To still be told that we are made in God's image? That surprises me, delights me, and challenges me.
It's easy for me to look at some people and recognize the image of God. When I see, for example, Josiah showing kindness to one of his younger brothers, I see God in him. When I hear David's heartfelt, contagious laughter break forth, I hear an echo of God's voice. When I feel Shav's little arms around my neck and his head on my shoulder as he clings to me in a hug, I feel God in that. When I watch Tobin joyfully sprint through the fallen leaves around a maple tree, just for the fun of being alive and able to run...
...I sense the energy of God at work in him. It's very easy to think, "Ah, yes, this child was made in the image of God."
But let me tell you when it's not easy. When I see someone throwing his life away because of an addiction to alcohol or drugs, I think, "What are you doing?" When I walk through a grocery store and see a woman who looks like she came to the store in her pajamas, I think, "Why did you choose to wear that out in public? Where's your self-respect?" When I sit in a restaurant and watch a man with a belly so big he can hardly keep it covered with his shirt and yet he goes back to the buffet for the fourth time, I think, "Have you no self-control?" It is in times like these that I really need to be reminded of Imago Dei. Yes, that addict was made in the image of God. That woman who looks like a mess was made in the image of God. That man carrying his obesity around wherever he goes was made in the image of God.
I can't tell you how many times this year, I've driven through the parking lot of Walmart, for example, and seen something or someone that makes me think, "How could that person do that...or wear that...or look like that...or be that?" Though the doctrine of kindness was drilled into me at such a young age that I wouldn't dare put my critical thoughts in such circumstances into spoken words, I have been guilty, time and time again, of thoughts so prideful and condescending and hateful (it pains me to write that, but yes, they are hateful) that I would blush the deepest shade of crimson and hang my head in shame were anyone to look inside my head and read my mind. Some "sinners" wear their mistakes on the outside--the chain-smoker whom is never seen without a cigarette, the overweight person whose very appearance announces a lack of self-discipline (although let me hasten to add that I know that some weight issues are caused by physical conditions, side effects of medicine, etc...however, we in America are facing a huge overweight epidemic, much of which has been caused by a basic lack of self-control). But many sinners--myself included--carry their sins on the inside, deep in the recesses of the mind, where no one, but God, can see. These sins are the hardest of all to conquer.
In my struggle against the sin of prideful thoughts this year, one short Latin phrase has been the most effective weapon in my arsenal. Imago Dei. This reminder has popped into my mind countless times when I've seen someone and been faced with the choice to have a prideful, insulting thought or a humble, righteous response: each man, each woman, each boy, each girl is made in the image of God. That's not to say that all of us are walking in the full brilliance of His image or displaying His glory as brightly as He intended! But somewhere, within each soul--from the woman who dresses and acts so provocatively that she seems to have only one thing on her mind to the dirty, smelly, homeless man on a street corner who has lost his way through the journeys of this world--there remains a spark of the divine.
Imago Dei. The image of God. It's there, in you, in me, in all of us.
Look for it.
This is a thought-provoking post. I too have wrestled with some of the same self-righteous attitudes and thoughts, and from time to time, can still. However, the longer I live, the more humbling experiences I have--when I am the one dragging into Wal-Mart in terrible clothes and a baseball cap on my head because I haven't combed my hair for 2 days, when I've been the one suffering helplessly under the side-effects of medication, when I've been the one who verbally lashed out at my kids because I was angry at my own circumstances--and then I look on these folks more with pity. Pity for their circumstances (that I don't know), and pity because I'm sure they don't WANT to be that way, no matter how they got there. It also makes me thankful for God's grace in protecting me from that particular struggle or situation.
ReplyDeleteHowever, having said all that, I still have harsh and condemning thoughts rush to my mind sometimes too.
And, I am so right there with you about having sins on the inside. Ouch! It is so true. I desperately need the Savior!