The concept of the imago dei is the point through which any genuinely biblical and theological anthropology must surely pass. It is of course linked closely with the creation of humankind in Gen 1:26-28:
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.
Exegetes and theologians are agreed that the phrase ‘the image (selem) of God’ indicates that humankind is to be the reflection of God to the creation. Unlike the other creatures, the human being is capable of being the conduit for the divine being in the world he made. The question is: in what exactly do human beings reflect the deity? The assumption of many writers has been that the image must refer to a particular capacity or ability given to humankind. That is: there is some capacity or function that is integral to God that is also fundamental for human beings.
If it is the case that the image of God is found in some capacity that human beings possess, it is not surprising that the imago dei has been understood over the course of Christian history is as the capacity for rational thought. The argument comes from two directions. On the one hand, it is rational thought that most obviously separates us from the beasts and the birds. Human beings could be said to be unique because of this capacity. On the other hand, it would seem that God is distinguished as a being by his supreme capacity for rational thought, in knowledge and in wisdom. Human beings are not by being in his image in any sense equivalent to him in rational capacity, but it would make sense to see them as analogous to him in it.
This position is well-attested – even dominant - from the early church onwards. The church’s first major systematic theologian, Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons (c. 180) wrote of the human being as a being ‘endowed with reason, and in this respect like God’.[1] Gregory of Nyssa (c.335 – c.395) wrote of man as the ‘rational animal.’[2] The great African bishop, Augustine of Hippo (354-430) writes in his commentary on Genesis:
Man’s excellence consists in the fact that God made him to His own image by giving him an intellectual soul, which raises him above the beasts of the field.[3]
In the Middle Ages, Thomas Aquinas (1225-74) perpetuated this view, arguing that ‘intellectual creatures alone, properly speaking, are made to God’s image.’[4] In this way, the image of God concept functioned as a kind of mediating principle for an analogy of being between humankind and the divine. The interpretation of the imago dei as rationality was then given further impetus by reference to the depiction of Jesus in the New Testament as the logos of God.
The gravest difficulty for the interpretation of the imago dei as the capacity for rational though is a lack of exegetical support. There simply is no obvious biblical connection between the concept of the image of God and rationality. Any drawing of lines between the two notions is necessarily artificial. As Karl Barth wrote: ‘[I]t is obvious that their authors merely found the concept in the text and then proceeded to pure invention in accordance with the requirement of contemporary anthropology.’ (CD III.1.193 cited in Cortez, p. 19). What’s more, the ascription of the image to the capacity for reason allows for the possibility of a hierarchy of human beings according to mental abilities. Any limiting of the image of God to a single facet or capacity of human nature not only founders on the rocks of exegesis but also runs aground on the shoal of reductionism.
It would be historically simplistic to claim that the understanding of the imago dei as the capacity for rational thought led directly to the denigration of what we now call by the almost impossibly broad term ‘the emotions’. But if it is in the area of rationality that we are most like God and most unlike the animals, then it is not a great step to arguing that emotions are what we share with the animals, rather than with God. Or – and this is a more sophisticated strategy – the emotions are divided into two distinct kinds: the higher and more pure sort, or the ‘affections’, which are found in relation to the divine, and the more base ‘passions’ of our animal nature.[5] The problem is magnified if human nature is held to be a dichotomy between body and soul, as we shall see.
5 comments:
Interstingly, Chrysostom believed the image was humanity's rule (as did Pelagius!). Moreover, someone like John Owen believed the image extended to the very body of the human it wasn't just situated in the so-called "soul".
Irenaeus the first systematician? Nah, he was the great biblical theologian. The first to do something like systematics whereby the chief topics are expounded and related to each other was Origen in his De Principiis, then Augustine in his Enchridion, then Isidore in his Sentences.
Not sure what happened to my earlier fb comment. Sorry. My fear is this frequently-made point is often exaggerated. As I mentioned, Aquinas, for example, regarded the imago as bound up with our active knowledge of God, something that is perfected by love. Moreover, the alleged dualism between the so-called higher and lower appetites is not as dualistic as the generalisation suggests (in his thought at least). By adopting Aristotelian psychology (instead of Platonism with its notion of the intellect as a separate substance), in this life knowledge of God is mediated via the bodily senses and appetites informing the intellect, which in turn informs the bodily senses towards their proper object. In other words, for whatever differences there are between the body and intellectual soul, there is a crucial interplay between them in his thought. Therefore, he would heartily agree that we love God with our bodies as much as our souls.
Sure, what happens in glory is another matter. However, it ought to be said that through his adoption of Aristotle, Aquinas represents a good example of a thinker trying to escape the excesses of Platonic dualism. Irrespective of his success or otherwise, the nuance of his position (and those like it) should be noted, I think.
PS Marty - I wonder if OWen changed his mind on this. The other day I found him saying in Vindiciae that the imago is properly in the intellect (12, 101). But, as you mention, later, in Pneumatologia, he extends it to the body.
Andrew, I was going to make exactly the same point about the difference in Aristotle and Plato's understanding of the soul! I certainly think the criticism has been over done. Harnack still cast's a long shadow over many an evaluation of the patristic and medieval era.
Yes, I suspect with Owen that there may well be development in his thought on the imago.
Hey Marty, entirely agreed. The patristic and mediaeval history of cognitive psychology and its relationship to anthropology is exceedingly complex, showing much more depth, nuance and serious reflection on the scriptures than its detractors sometimes suggest. In any case, it is highly questionable whether the materialistic emphasis of the Enlightenment onwards has overcome all the dilemmas of the older modes of thought.
PS thanks for your link to Henry of Ghent online. I'm picking through him a bit at present!
Re Henry of Ghent, yes, what a boon!
BTW did you know you can get the Borgnet Opera Omnia of Albertus Magnus online here:
http://albertusmagnus.uwaterloo.ca/
And both the Edente and Quaracchi Opera Omnia of Bonaventura here:
http://www.documentacatholicaomnia.eu/20_50_1221-1274-_Bonaventura_Bagnoregis,_Sanctus.html
Enjoy!
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