‘Clones of God’ — being ‘created in the image of God’, and what that should mean for animals
The following excerpt was sent my way from an article by a professor of the Old Testament, W. Sibley Towner, “Clones of God: Genesis 1:26-28 and the Image of God in the Hebrew Bible,” in Interpretation 59 (2005): 341-56. It reflects my view of what it means (for animals) for us to claim to be “created in the image of God” — not the “predatory dominion theology” touted by Christian hunters and others who like to justify humankind’s exploitation and killing of animals on biblical grounds — and those who don’t have a theological (or political) problem with the recent innovation (of this century) of sacrificing animals as part of the liturgies of the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches in South Africa, even though it isn’t done for the same reasons the ancient Hebrews did it, and even though beer would work as well as blood for their purposes of enculturation.
The excerpt also describes for me the philosophy and work of Fellow Mortals, which influenced my beliefs and my spirituality; made the gap between God and Church noticeable on a couple of levels; expanded my concept of animal care beyond “pets”, and my concept of the value of a single life — even the value a common life (as opposed to an intangible “endangered species” or “the balance of nature” (a step beyond the philosophies of conservationism or environmentalism); began my mission to close the gap; and ultimately inspired my chosen lifestyle of “least harm” — to name a few things off the top of my head. (The Robert Burns quote on their home page eventually inspired me to go vegan.)
“What is the implication of the relational concept of imago dei for animals? The Bible gives many tender and wonderful glimpses of the Sovereign’s own care for the world, from which we lieutenants can extrapolate our own best behaviors toward our fellow creatures.
Four things on earth are small,
but they are exceedingly wise:
the ants are a people not strong,
yet they provide their food in the summer;
the badgers are a people not mighty,
yet they make their homes in the rocks;
the locusts have no king,
yet all of them march in rank;
the lizard you can take in your hands,
yet it is in kings’ palaces. (Prov 30:24-28)
The entire Wisdom tradition of Israel is full of observations of nature, as was wisdom literature throughout the ancient Near East. Onomastica — lists of natural phenomena — occur in Egypt, Babylon, and even in the Hebrew Bible (e.g., Prov 30:18-31). The biblical writers were keen observers and appreciators of natural phenomena. They saw excellences even in the lowliest of creatures: in the ant’s prudence, the badger’s survival instincts, the locusts’ social organization, and the neat way that the little gecko lizard with its big black eyes has of sneaking into the royal precincts. The message of the sages to us is this: If you are going to reign on God’s behalf in the world, as God’s chief ministers, then for pity’s sake, do it the way God would do it. Display the image of God in you. Do it with wonder and pleasure and tenderness. Do it with respect for the creatures and their individual competencies. Do it aware that if they cease to exist, we too are impoverished and maybe even we cease to exist.
In the speeches that Yahweh delivers to Job out of the whirlwind (Job, chs. 38-41), the Lord presents a list of animate and inanimate creatures. The Lord first claims divine sovereignty over rain and snow, light and darkness, clouds and dew, constellations and the orders of the heavens. Then Yahweh focuses down to the wilderness familiar to ancient Israel and speaks admiringly of mountain goats, wild asses and oxen, hawks and eagles, and even the incredibly stupid ostrich who crushes her eggs as she bungles around and yet, ‘When she rouses herself to flee, she laughs at the horse and its rider’ (Job 39:18, RSV). Climactically, Yahweh then directs Job’s attention to the monsters, Behemoth and Leviathan. All wild creatures pose threats to humankind, but these are the wildest of the wild. Though their footprints lead out of the swamps of myth where they were doubtless enemies of God, in Job they are simply the most grotesque and unlovable monsters of the land and sea respectively. But Yahweh loves them, ‘Shreks’ that they are, for they are the most fearfully wonderful of all the works of creation.
Aware that the animals experience us as gods, our task is to enact God’s image in us and to announce to the natural orders of the world, to the water and the air and the wild things, ‘We bring a new respect to our relationship with you. We seek with you a genuine encounter.’ We owe the creatures an outpouring of charity, providential in the sense that it knows no bounds, is out of control rather than selective, and does not know where to stop until it includes all of creation. We seek the long-term discipline of stewardship, which learns how to do things right so that our skills really enhance life round us.
What does the concept ‘image of God’ say about biblical anthropology overall? If the image inheres in all of us as a gift of the Creator and distinguishes us from the other creatures of the world, . . . then we are dealing with a very high view of human nature indeed! . . . But primacy is no cause for arrogance, as the Priestly writer and the psalmist present it. Rather it is an ascent to the position of God’s steward. It is to serve as a mediator and a conduit of goodness and health between the Source of goodness and the good creation.”
can meet each other in a stance that is not tinged with fear?”
– Presiding Bishop-elect Katharine Jefferts Schori