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Imago Dei: Man/Woman Created in the Image of God
Implications for Theology, Pastoral Care, Eucharist, Apologetics, Aesthetics
George Hobson
Foreword by William Edgar
Imago Dei: Man/Woman Created in the Image of God
Implications for Theology, Pastoral Care, Eucharist, Apologetics, Aesthetics
Copyright © 2019 George Hobson. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave. , Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.
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paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-8998-7
hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-8999-4
ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-9000-6
Manufactured in the U. S. A. October 29, 2019
Foreword
I was in a clothing store, waiting for my wife to try on some shoes. To distract the consumer, the waiting room had a large bound copy of the New York Times with headlines and editorials dating back to the 1930s. I opened the volume at random and there, prominently displayed, was an op-ed article by the American theologian J. Gresham Machen. Whatever the merits of the particular article, it was clear that theological opinion was taken seriously by readers of this influential newspaper. Today believers still write for the Times, but more often than not the reader identifies, not a view that thought leaders need to reckon with as to how to change the world, but fascination, often condescending, with figuring out which tribe the author belongs to and moving on with life.
Coming from many corners, there is a nearly universal sense that the voice of Christian theology in public life is muted at best, harmful at worst. Standard reflections on secularization have measured the receding influence of religion in public and private life. Like the Cheshire Cat, less and less remains, until the only imprint is an enigmatic smile. The older, “standard” sociological model predicted (and often prescribed) the waning of Christian influence in decision-making. Not so long ago, political policy was filled with references to Reinhold Niebuhr’s thoughts on sin, or Karl Barth’s critique of statist idolatry, or even J. G. Machen’s libertarian views. No longer.
It is true, however, that the standard secularization model has not proved enduring. One reason for that is the insistent way that homo religious refuses to sink beneath the waves. Even Enlightenment-based thinkers like Jürgen Habermas admit that there must be a place for Judeo-Christian convictions if society is to be sustained. French historian of jurisprudence Jacques Ellul has argued that while the Christian shape of religious life may have receded, new forms of religion have stood in the breach. Not everyone is convinced by the candidates he picks: hedonism, nation-building, and above all technology (or technique as he prefers it). But today there are only a few who still hold on to something like the standard model. God is Back as one book title has it. 1 Critics rightly ask whether he ever went away! It has simply taken us some time to notice what has been before our eyes all along. Has there been no real secularization? Of course there has. The return of religion is a bit more subtle, masking as spirituality and the like.
Most politicians are not riveted to Christian editorials in the New York Times. If they have faith, it is a rather private matter. In his powerful studies on the role of theology in public life, Miroslav Volf argues that theology has simply lost its audience. 2 He blames the audience, but he also blames academic theologians for becoming too in-house and specialized. “The general sense is that theology isn’t producing any genuine knowledge that accomplishes anything, that it trades with the irrationality of faith and is useless. ”3 Is that all there is to the story? Not quite.
What is to be done? Retreat into a Benedict Option until the storm passes? Lash out with resentment? Is there a silver bullet? No, certainly not. The essays you hold in your hands by George Hobson are hopeful beyond many measures. The reason? They center, directly or indirectly, on one of the most needed doctrines for our times: mankind made in the image of God. The shorthand, imago Dei, is not only elegant and meaningful, but tells us that it has been believed from ancient times. The fundamental nature of human beings is a nonnegotiable answer to many of the challenges of our day. Hobson has written before on the dangers, as well as the opportunities, afforded by technology. As social media seeps in by osmosis, molding us into information-based machines, doomed to lose the control that is promised, the imago tells us not to look across, but to look upward. We have our primary identity in God himself, who conferred our nature on us.
The doctrine does far more. Instead of acrimonious denunciations of therapeutic abortions, it reminds us of the grandeur of even the most vulnerable human being. Instead of caving in to pragmatism, it reminds us we are capable of beauty from the ashes. Instead of empty defenses of the propositional value of the Bible (a value which it has, of course), it makes us ask why God revealed himself to a lost people and how it was possible for him to do so. Though it is not because the image makes us deserve him, when he does redeem us he restores us to a fuller image than we had even before. Instead of the rhetoric, “I have a plan, ” often heard from political candidates, it provides us with “I have a great God who leads us beyond plans into the house of the Lord forever, where goodness and love will follow us all the days of our lives” (Ps 23:6).
One of my mentors, the late Hans Rookmaaker, reveled in provocative statements. One of them was, “Christ did not come to make us more Christian, but more human.” He knew, of course, that the statement was a redundancy. But his hope was to awaken his audience to what everyone today is talking about, but floundering to accomplish: human flourishing.
I don’t think we are on the brink of a revival. Although these pages contain the marvelous answer of the gospel for our times, they risk being lost in the maelstrom of “le cercle des bavards, ” lost in the chatter, but for two things. First, the prose here is crystal clear, compellingly lucid, and deeply persuasive. Hobson is a considerable poet, and his gifts for lyrics serve him admirably here. Thus, his great learning, far from making him mad (Acts 26:24), is translated into language we can all understand. This is a rarity. We need to listen, and then move into action. And second, most of these lectures, if not the three long essays, were delivered in local parishes. Here is Jesus’s front line. Without denying the Kuyperian point that he is Lord in every sphere, there is something unique—dare I say, sacramental—about communicating directly with a church audience.
George Hobson is one of those rare human beings who has climbed what David Brooks has called the “second mountain. ”4 The first mountain is one of achievement, accomplishment, success. It is a good place to be. But really to arrive at the place of true flourishing, one needs to ascend the second mountain, where selfish gains are shed in favor of selfless dedication to others, and to the worship of God. It is a better place to be. If I said more I would embarrass him.
