Humility is a biblical social value describing one’s relationship with God and one another. From a social-scientific perspective, humility captures the importance of remaining within one’s own social position. Humble persons do not appropriate what is not part of their status in life. John the Baptist is the clearest illustration of this biblical virtue of humility: “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matt. 3:11). John acknowledges his social status in regard to the “one who is to come.” He is “not worthy to carry his sandals.”
Humility of God’s People in the Old Testament Israel first learned the virtue of humility through their experience of God’s almighty power in delivering them from slavery in Egypt. In acts of worship they continued to express their relationship to God. There they remembered God’s mighty deeds and showed dependence on God for who they were and for God’s continued blessings. The psalms are eternal testaments to their humble dependence on God. Their attitude of humility in worship reflects the humble attitude that David adopted before the ark of the covenant on its entry into Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6:16-22). David’s joyful spirit of abandonment before God reflected his joy in acknowledging that all he had and was came from God. In contrast to David’s attitude stands the biblical story of the Tower of Babel. There, humans were unwilling to accept their status in relation to God, instead making themselves to be more than they were by striving to become gods. This clearly violated their social status and resulted in God’s punishment (Gen. 11:1-9).
In the OT, two important examples of humility emerge. Moses was “very humble, more so than anyone else on the face of the earth” (Num. 12:3). Another example is the suffering servant in the book of Isaiah, who accepted his social status as an outcast among his people (53:1-12). By being true to their roles, they were used by God to accomplish his will.
Humility of the Son of God
Jesus is the humble Messiah announced in the book of the prophet Zechariah (9:9). Jesus’ entry into the city of Jerusalem illustrated his submission to the Father. He did not claim for himself arrogant regal powers: “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey” (Matt. 21:5). A king rode into battle on a horse, whereas a donkey (used for transporting things) was an animal of peace. Elsewhere, Jesus expresses his humility: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matt. 11:29).
Jesus did not come seeking his own glory (John 8:50). He humbled himself even to the extent of washing the feet of his disciples. “For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them” (John 13:15-16).
Humility of Jesus’ Followers
For Paul, humility lies at the heart of Jesus’ nature. Although Jesus was in the form of God, he was willing to take on the lowliness of human nature (Phil. 2:6-11). Such should be the attitude of every follower (Phil. 2:5). Paul values this virtue of humility and gentleness (2 Cor. 10:1).
The Epistle of James describes the life of a follower as characterized by a humility inspired by God’s wisdom (3:13-17). Humility is the true attitude of a believer toward God (4:10).
Throughout the biblical writings humility is a fundamental virtue because it upholds and fosters the essential relationship that exists between the individual, the community, and God. Jesus’ central concern for his followers was that they respect the honor of God and others (Matt. 23:12; Luke 18:14). As Augustine said, “Where there is humility, there is love” (Tract. ep. Jo. prologue).
See also Meekness; Pride Bibliography
Elmer, D. Cross-cultural Servanthood: Serving the World in Christlike Humility. InterVarsity, 2006; Malina, B. “Humility.” Pages 118-20 in Handbook of Biblical Social Values, ed. J. Pilch and B. Malina. Rev. ed. Hendrickson, 1998; Spencer, F. “Metaphor, Mystery and the Salvation of Israel in Romans 9-11: Paul’s Appeal to Humility and Doxology.” RevExp 103 (2006): 113-38.
Patrick J. Hartin
Hunting See Animals
Hypocrisy is a pattern of thinking, believing, feeling, and behaving that conceals what is true. In contemporary English the word hypocrisy refers to a range of behaviors and character flaws that we might describe in terms of playacting, duplicity, and insincerity. It is unfortunate that English Bibles generally translate hypokrites as “hypocrite” and hypokrisis as “hypocrisy” (e.g., Matt. 6:2, 5, 16; 23:13, 15; Luke 12:1, 56; 13:15; 1 Tim. 4:2), as the Greek terms are more nuanced than these transliterations might suggest. In theatrical dialogue among the ancient Greeks our terminology referred to actors on a stage, without necessarily entailing any pejorative sense. This usage was known in the time of Jesus, though whether he had been exposed to the Greek theater is debated. In the LXX our terminology is used with reference to persons who are godless, not so much because of their insincerity but because they lack insight into God’s character and purpose (e.g., Job 34:30; 36:13). Similar usage in the NT explains the collocation of “hypocrisy” with “lawlessness” (anomia) in Matt. 23:28, or with “wickedness” (kakia) and other vices in 1 Pet. 2:1.
To be sure, some biblical texts do provide evidence of hypocrisy as a form of playacting or showy performance. This is particularly true in the Gospel of Matthew, where showy spirituality (almsgiving, prayer, fasting) is condemned as hypocrisy (6:2, 5, 16), or where Jesus, quoting Isa. 29:13, unveils the pretentiousness of the Pharisees (15:7-9). In other instances, however, the charge of hypocrisy is transparently tied to lack of insight into the ways of God. Whereas in the former case we may think in terms of a lack of integrity between one’s character and one’s behavior, in the latter case we find no such disjunction. In the latter case, hypocrisy is not “claiming one thing and doing another,” but rather is wayward dispositions displayed in wayward practices. For example, when Paul reports his indictment of Peter, Barnabas, and others on account of their hypocrisy (Gal. 2:11-14), he is not asserting that their claim to follow the gospel was fraudulent, but rather that they had failed to understand fully and to embody in their lives the far-reaching character of the gospel. Similarly, when Jesus labels his opponents as “hypocrites” in Luke 13:15, he is incriminating them not for playacting but for their failure to understand the purpose of God’s command, “Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy” (Deut. 5:12). As “lord of the sabbath” (Luke 6:5; cf. 13:15), Jesus understands how to faithfully implement Sabbath legislation. Just as “the Lord your God brought you out [of slavery in the land of Egypt] with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm” (Deut. 5:15), so on the Sabbath
Jesus laid his hands on the bent-over woman and freed her from her long-standing bondage to Satan (Luke 13:10-17).
Both of these uses of “hypocrisy” can be understood in terms of lack of conformity with what is true. Whether one knowingly “says one thing but does another” or unknowingly misrepresents the truth, both behaviors camouflage the character and ways of God.
See also Integrity; Truthfulness, Truth-Telling
Joel B. Green
Idolatry refers both to the worship of other gods (Exod. 20:3; Deut. 5:7) and to the worship of images (Exod. 20:4; Deut. 5:8). Disagreement over the division of the Ten Commandments belies the close relationship between the two: the Jewish, Roman Catholic, and Lutheran traditions take what non-Lutheran Protestants count as the first two commandments together. Either way, “not making an idol” extends and applies to “having no other gods.” While both senses of idolatry are valid, the biblical authors generally do not distinguish between the worship of other gods, the worship of images, and the worship of Yahweh using images. A pagan deity was sometimes thought to be present in its image (e.g., 2 Kgs. 19:18, where the kings of Assyria are said to have “hurled their gods into the fire”).
In the Bible there is no more serious charge than that of idolatry: “The central theological principle in the Bible is [the refutation of] idolatry” (Hal-bertal and Margalit 10). Both disdainful polemic and extreme measures of avoidance are directed against idolatry throughout. Idolatry also plays a central role in the Bible’s overarching narrative, and its capacity for an extended or figurative meaning makes the concept of idolatry fruitful in a range of contexts. Barton asserts that a “central task of theology is the critique of idolatry” (1). Understanding idolatry is also critical for Christian ethics.
Idolatry and Salvation History
The history of Israel is the story of the nation’s struggle with idolatry. Despite dire warnings from Moses (Deut. 4:15-19; 7:1-5), the Israelites worshiped foreign gods, not only in Egypt (Josh. 24:14) but also again in the promised land (Judg. 2:11-13; 17-18). Idolatry continued to be a snare in the days of David (1 Sam. 19:11-17) and especially Solomon (1 Kgs. 11:1-8), whose sin forced the division of the kingdom (1 Kgs. 11:9-13). With few exceptions, idolatrous practices flourished in both Israel and Judah, and many prophets inveighed against the pollution of idols. The exile in Babylon renewed the confrontation, with Daniel and a few friends standing firm. And in the postexilic period Malachi, Ezra, and Nehemiah, to remove the temptation of idolatry, opposed marriages with foreigners.
The promises of a new covenant in Isaiah and Ezekiel envision God’s people being cleansed and anointed with the Spirit and the removal of Israel’s idols (e.g., Ezek. 36:26-36). Further, Isa. 45:5-6 reveals God’s determination to be known among the nations as the true and living God. In the NT, those who continue to worship idols are excluded from the kingdom of God (Rev. 9:20), and Jesus emerges as the incarnate icon (or image) of God (eikon tou theou [2 Cor. 4:4]).
The Effects of Idolatry
The Bible critiques idolatry in four complementary ways, each of which underscores its foolishness: idolatry frustrates, contaminates, and degrades its worshipers, who eventually incur the jealous judgment of God. These four effects are the reverse of what the true and living God does for those who trust in him: he saves, purifies, transforms, and justifies them.
Futility. “What use is an idol once its maker has shaped it—a cast image, a teacher of lies? For its maker trusts in what has been made, though the product is only an idol that cannot speak! Alas for you who say to the wood, ‘Wake up!’ to silent stone, ‘Rouse yourself!’ Can it teach? See, it is gold and silver plated, and there is no breath in it at all” (Hab. 2:18-19). The main premise of the biblical injunction against idolatry is that idols are ineffectual. Idol worship leads only to the disappointment and embarrassment of those who trust in them; idols are gods that fail (Ramachandra). Many pagans believed that certain benefits, such as fertility, rain, health, and guidance for certain decisions, resulted from worshiping idols. Correspondingly, OT idol polemic proclaims the powerlessness and deceptive nature of idolatry (1 Kgs. 18:27; 2 Kgs. 19:16-19; Pss. 115:4-8; 135:15-18;
Isa. 37:17-20; 41:23-24; 44:9-20; Jer. 14:22; 10:34; Hos. 8:4-6). The same theme continues in the NT. Paul condemns idolatry as foolish and futile (Rom. 1:21-22) and idols as “dumb” (1 Cor. 12:2).
Impurity. “Are not those who eat the [pagan] sacrifices partners [koinonoi] in the altar?” (1 Cor. 10:18). Along with being worthless, in the OT and ancient Judaism idols are regarded as the “gods of the nations” (a frequent OT phrase) and consequently as “unclean.” In the Jewish and Christian worldviews, idolatry was the defining characteristic of the gentiles. Opposition to idolatry was, in effect, an exercise in redrawing group boundaries (e.g., Dan. 3; 6). Postbiblical Jewish texts indicate that such concerns continued (Jub. 22:16-17). Paul’s missionary goal was that gentiles “turn to God from idols” (1 Thess. 1:9). Consistently for Jews and Christians, a major reason to “flee idolatry” (1 Cor. 10:14) was to avoid the contamination of gentiles.
Likeness. “Those who make them [idols] and all who trust them shall become like them” (Ps. 135:18). Just as idols “have eyes but cannot see, and ears but cannot hear” (Ps. 135:16-17), so those who worship them become spiritually blind and deaf as part of God’s disciplinary punishment (Meadors). “What you revere, you resemble, either for ruin or restoration” (Beale 11). Isaiah 6:9-13, a judgment on idolatry and a passage frequently alluded to by later OT and NT authors, lays out this principle: “Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand” (Isa. 6:9). The same judgment of the “hardening of the heart” can be traced across the NT. In Rev. 9:20-21, for instance, idolatrous unbelievers are anesthetized with spiritual insensitivity, conforming to their lifeless idols.
Judgment. “A jealous and avenging God is the Lord” (Nah. 1:2). The theological ground for the judgment of idolatry, which appears throughout the Bible, is the jealousy of God. The belief that idolatry arouses God’s jealousy is introduced in the second commandment (Exod. 20:5; Deut. 5:810; cf. Ezek. 16:38, 42; 23:25; see also Exod. 34:14, where it is the explanation of the divine name “Jealous”). The warning in 1 Cor. 10:22 (“Are we stronger than he?”) echoes this teaching (Rosner, Paul, 195-203). God’s jealousy, based on his love for those he has redeemed at great cost, motivates him to judge his people.
The Nature of Idolatry and Ethics
Idolatry carries a broader sense than literal obeisance to false gods. Ancient Jews took the commandment “You shall have no other gods before me” to be foundational to the rest of the Decalogue and in some sense all-embracing: “Whoever professes idolatry denies the Ten Words . . . whoever denies idolatry, professes all of the Torah” (Sipre Num. 111; cf. Sipre Deut. 54). Martin Luther taught in his catechisms that the first commandment casts its bright light over all the others and is the source and fountain from which all the others spring. Within the OT an extended or figurative sense of idolatry is evident in the prophets. As elusive as it may be, a definition of the concept of idolatry that goes beyond the literal is worth pursuing.
Idolatry makes the contingent absolute. For
many, idolatry is a confusion of creation and the Creator (e.g., Barth) or the attribution of ultimate value to anything other than God (e.g., Niebuhr). Idolatry is a danger whenever we forget that we are created beings. Romans 1:23 is often cited in support: “They exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling a mortal human being or birds or four-footed animals or reptiles.” Reinhold Niebuhr (178) argues that a person who refuses to acknowledge the need for self-transcendence is in danger of replacing God with that which is finite and contingent. The versatility of this approach makes it popular in Christian ethics and preaching; idolatry occurs when we treat something other than God as ultimate.
For Vinoth Ramachandra, idolatry occurs when we “elevate some aspect of the created order to the central place that the Creator alone occupies” (107). In his sights are the gods of science, nation, ethnicity, sexuality, and so on. The sin of idolatry becomes a danger “when we forget that these are human creations” (109). Timothy Keller describes “the human heart” as an “idol factory” that takes good things like a successful career, love, material possessions, even family, and turns them into ultimate things: “Our hearts deify them as the center of our lives, because, we think, they can give us significance and security, safety and fulfillment, if we attain them” (xiv).
Idolaters love, trust, and serve idols. In the attempt to define idolatry, a fruitful complement to the concept of a contingent creation and the absolute God is to take a more inductive approach: in the Bible, what do idolaters do with their idols, what does the charge of idolatry consist of, and to what is the sin of idolatry compared?
One major conception of idolatry appears in the prophets, in whose writings God is seen as king and his people as his subjects. As king, he demands trust and confidence in his ability to provide for and protect those under his care. In the marital (Jer. 13; Ezek. 16; 23; Hos. 2) and political models idolatry consists of an attack on God’s exclusive rights to human love and devotion and trust and service, respectively. In the OT, these same responses, in two different directions, characterize both idolaters and worshipers of God. In Ezek. 14:3, 7, for instance, people take “idols into their hearts,” whereas the Shema calls on Israel to “love the Lord your God with all your heart” (Deut. 6:5). In Ps. 115:8-11 idolaters trust in their idols, whereas Israel and all those who revere God are called to trust in him. And in Judg. 10:13-16 the Israelites who served “other gods” repented, rejected those gods, and returned to serve the Lord. With this in mind, the most explicit target for the metaphorical charge of idolatry in the Bible is greed.
The way is paved for the condemnation of greed as a form of idol worship in the common OT warning that wealth may lead to apostasy. A person who has riches might disown God, saying, “Who is the Lord?” (Prov. 30:8-9). In the NT, Jesus insisted that people serve either God or mammon (i.e., riches, possessions), but not both (Matt. 6:24 // Luke 16:13). The apostle Paul condemned greed as idolatry (Eph. 5:5; Col. 3:5). He also believed that some people’s god is their belly (Rom. 16:18; Phil. 3:19); in pagan moral philosophy the “belly” was a catchword for a life controlled by pleasures (Sandnes).
The comparison of greed with idolatry is best explained in relation to the Bible’s consistent profiling of the idolater and the greedy person in terms of misdirected love, trust, and service, noted above (Rosner, Greed as Idolatry). Both idolaters and the greedy “set their hearts” on inappropriate objects. Both “rely on,” “trust in,” and “look to” their “treasures” for protection and blessing. Both “serve” and “submit to” things that demean rather than ennoble the worshiper.
The saying about mammon in Matthew and Luke confirms that the figurative versatility of the comparison of greed with idolatry allows for these three interpretations: “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth” (Matt. 6:24). Misdirected love and service are signaled in the verbs “love” and “serve,” along with the synonym “devotion” and the antonyms “hate” and “despise.” The third response of trust is evident in the following context of Matt. 6:25-34, where Jesus points to the birds and the lilies in order to inspire trust in God’s providential care and to calm anxiety about material things that provoke us to seek them obsessively.
See also Clean and Unclean; Desire; Greed; Ten Commandments
Bibliography
Barton, S., ed. Idolatry: False Worship in the Bible, Early Judaism and Christianity. T&T Clark, 2007; Beale, G. We Become What We Worship: A Biblical Theology of Idolatry. InterVarsity, 2008; Halbertal, M., and A. Margalit. Idolatry. Trans. N. Goldblum. Harvard University Press, 1992; Keller, T. Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope That Matters. Dutton, 2009; Meadors, E. Idolatry and the Hardening of the Heart: A Study in Biblical Theology. T&T Clark, 2006; Niebuhr, R. The Nature and Destiny of Man: A Christian Interpretation. Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1949; Ramachan-dra, V Gods That Fail: Modern Idolatry and Christian Mission. InterVarsity, 1996; Rosner, B. Greed as Idolatry: The Origin and Meaning of a Pauline Metaphor. Eerd-mans, 2007; idem. Paul, Scripture and Ethics: A Study of 1 Corinthians 5—7. AGJU 22. Brill, 1994; Sandnes, K. Belly and Body in the Pauline Epistles. SNTSMS 120. Cambridge University Press, 2002; Wright, C. The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative. InterVarsity, 2006.
Brian Rosner
Central to most Christian theological ethics is the idea that humans are made in the image of God (Lat. imago Dei). The idea first occurs in the Bible in Gen. 1:26-28, where God creates humanity (both male and female) in his “image” and “likeness” (parallel terms) and grants them the task of subduing the earth and ruling over the animals. The idea of creation in God’s image is not, however, widespread in Scripture, found explicitly in only four other texts (Gen. 5:1-3; 9:6; 1 Cor. 11:7; Jas. 3:9). Most biblical occurrences of the imago Dei refer to Christ as the image par excellence or to the salvific renewal of the image in the church.
The Image of God and the Cultural Mandate
Although the idea that humans are created in God’s image is rare in the OT, its meaning is clarified by other creation texts that portray the original human purpose. The imago Dei crystallizes the functional or missional view of humanity found in texts such as Gen. 2 and Ps. 8.
In Gen. 2 God plants a garden in Eden and places the first human there with the task of tilling and keeping the garden (2:15). Agriculture therefore is the first communal, cultural project of humanity. Since it is the Creator who first planted the garden, it could be said that God initiated the first cultural project, thus setting a pattern for humans, created in the divine image, to follow. Whereas Gen. 2 focuses on agriculture, Ps. 8 highlights animal husbandry as the basic human vocation. Humans are crowned with royal honor and granted rule over the works of God’s hands, including various realms of animal life (Ps. 8:5-8). Here the domestication of animals is regarded as a task of such dignity and privilege that through it humans manifest their position of being “a little lower than God” (Ps. 8:5), an expression that begins to move in the direction of God’s image/ likeness.
Genesis 1:26-28 combines these two themes: humans are created to subdue the earth (similar to tending the garden in Gen. 2) and to rule over the animal kingdom (as in Ps. 8). And they are to accomplish these tasks as God’s representatives or delegates on earth, entrusted with a share in his rule, which is the upshot of being made in God’s image (Gen. 1:26-27). In the ancient Near East the king was thought to be the living image of the gods on earth, representing the gods’ will and purpose through his administration of society and culture. In Gen. 1 the entire human race is appointed to this privileged role. The human task of exercising communal power in the world, initially applied to agriculture and the domestication of animals, results in the transformation of the earthly environment into a complex sociocultural world. Thus, Gen. 4 reports the building of the first city (4:17) and mentions the beginnings of cultural practices and inventions, such as nomadic livestock herding, musical instruments, and metal tools (4:20-22). This transformation of the world (the so-called cultural mandate) accomplished by God’s human image on earth is a holy task, a sacred calling, in which humanity reflects the Creator’s own lordship over the cosmos.
Just as God constructed the cosmos (heaven and earth) by wisdom, understanding, and knowledge (Prov. 3:19-20), so humans require this very same triad of qualities when they build a house (Prov. 24:3-4). This makes sense of the portrayal of Bezalel, who is put in charge of constructing the tabernacle. Bezalel is filled with God’s Spirit (the same Spirit who attended creation in Gen. 1:2) and also with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge (Exod. 31:2-5; 35:30-35)—the same qualities that God exhibited when he made the world. The human embodiment of good artisan-ship in earthly construction projects thus recapitulates God’s own building of the cosmos, which was also a developmental project, transforming an original unformed and unfilled mass (Gen. 1:2) into a complex world, over six days.
The Image of God and the Mediation of Divine Presence
The assumed parallel in the Bezalel account between the creation of the world and tabernacle construction (as macrocosmos and microcosmos) suggests the background picture of the created order as a temple, a sacred realm over which God rules. This picture is explicit in Ps. 148, which calls on a variety of heavenly and earthly creatures (148:1-4, 7-12) to praise their creator (148:5-7, 13-14), as if together they constituted a host of creaturely worshipers in the cosmic sanctuary. According to Isa. 66, heaven is Yahweh’s throne, and the earth is his footstool (66:1a). Thus, the text questions why anyone would build an earthly “house” for God (referring to postexilic rebuilding of the temple), since God has already created the cosmos (66:1b-2). Why construct sacred space—a place to worship God—when all space is already sacred?
In the cosmic sanctuary of creation humans are the authorized “image” of God. Just as the physical cult statue or image in an ancient Near Eastern temple was meant to mediate the deity’s presence to the worshipers, so humans are the divinely designated embodied mediators of the Creator’s presence from heaven (where Yahweh is enthroned) to earth, thus completing the destiny of the cosmic temple, so that God might fully indwell the earthly realm, much as the glory of Yahweh filled the tabernacle when it was completed (Exod. 40:34-35). Although the Spirit of God was, indeed, hovering over creation at the beginning (Gen. 1:2), as if God was getting ready to breathe his presence into the world, when the Creator rests on the seventh day (Gen. 2:1-3), the world is not yet filled with God’s glory. The issue is not human sin, at least not yet. The key point is that the mediation of God’s presence on earth is precisely the historical vocation of humanity as the imago Dei, a vocation that has only just been assigned (and not yet carried out) in Gen. 1.
Human Violence and the Image of God
The incursion of sin tragically compromises the human calling to image God. From the primal disobedience in the garden (Gen. 3) through the first murder (Gen. 4), humans misuse their power to image God and so shut off earth from God’s full presence. Indeed, human violence (which is fundamentally the misuse of the power of imago Dei) escalates, until the earth becomes filled with violence (Gen. 6:11) rather than with the presence of God. This violence leads to the flood (Gen. 6:13), which is a restorative operation meant to cleanse the earth.
The incursion of sin into God’s good creation does not, however, obliterate the imago Dei. God’s creation of both male and female in his “likeness” is reiterated (Gen. 5:1-2), and this image/likeness is passed on to future generations (Gen. 5:3). After
the flood, God reaffirms the creation of humans in his “image,” and this affirmation grounds the sanctity of human life (Gen. 9:6). The postfall persistence of the imago Dei is assumed also in Jas. 3:9, which, like Gen. 9:6, undergirds a specific ethical implication, challenging those who would bless God yet curse a person made in the divine “likeness.” This NT text echoes the OT wisdom tradition that people somehow represent their maker, so that oppression or kindness shown to the poor and needy are equivalent to insult or honor shown to God (Prov. 14:31; 17:5; cf. 22:2). A similar idea lies behind Jesus’ claim in the parable of the sheep and the goats (Matt. 25:31-46) that whatever works of love a person performs to “one of the least of these” is done to him (Matt. 25:40).
The Image of God and the Ethical Use of Power The ethical significance of the imago Dei cannot be limited, however, to the injunction to honor God by respecting his image on earth. Persons made in God’s image are not simply the recipients of ethical action; they are also called to act, imaging God’s own use of creative power.
According to the creation account that forms the immediate context for the imago Dei, God creates without vanquishing any primordial forces of chaos (in contrast to ancient Near Eastern creation myths such as Enuma Elish), since to do so would enshrine violence as original and normative. Instead, God painstakingly develops the initial, unformed watery mass (Gen. 1:2) into a complex, well-constructed world. Not only is each stage of this creative process portrayed as “good” (Gen. 1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25); when creation is complete, it is “very good” (Gen. 1:31). The human use of power in God’s image is also to be nonviolent and developmental.
In ancient Near Eastern religious practice sacrifices were understood as providing food for the gods and were thought necessary to guarantee fertility of crops and flocks on earth. However, the God of Genesis freely blesses animals and humans with perpetual fertility (Gen. 1:22, 28) and grants food to both for their sustenance (Gen. 1:29-30). Most significantly, the biblical Creator does not hoard power as sovereign ruler of the cosmos but instead gladly assigns humanity a share in ruling the earth as his representatives (Gen. 1:26-28). God’s own generous exercise of power for the benefit of creatures thus provides the most important model for the human exercise of power.
There are implications here for environmental stewardship, grounded first of all in the fundamental kinship that humans share with all other creatures (we do not transcend creation) and in the fact that all existence is a gift from the generous Creator. That humans have only a delegated, derivative authority in the world, and that the Creator’s own use of power is the normative model for dominion further suggest that human rule over the earth and the nonhuman creatures is to be characterized by generosity and care.
However, we cannot stop with environmental stewardship, narrowly conceived. While the picture of the human vocation in Gen. 1:26-28 certainly grounds care for the earth, the Bible intends something much broader by its association of the imago Dei with the exercise of cultural, developmental power. In the biblical worldview, all cultural activities and social institutions arise from interaction with the earth. Thus, so-called creation care should not be treated as an ethical agenda separate from attending to the social structures that we develop, including governments, economic systems, technological innovations, forms of communication, and the urban and suburban landscapes in which we live and work. Such a separation may well result in the absence of critical ethical reflection on the defining human calling to develop culture and our contemporary need to work for its healing in a broken world.
Ethical reflection on human culture must take into account the fact that no human being is granted dominion over another at creation. The process of cultural development is meant to flow from a cooperative sharing in dominion. This provides a normative basis to critique interhuman injustice or the misuse of power over others, both in individual cases and in systemic social formations. More specifically, since both male and female are made in God’s image with a joint mandate to rule (Gen. 1:27-28), this calls into question the inequities of patriarchy and sexism that arise in history. And since the imago Dei is prior to any ethnic, racial, or national divisions (see Gen. 10), this critiques ethnocentrism, racism, and any form of national superiority. That God’s intent from the beginning is for a cooperative world of shalom, generosity, and blessing is evident most fundamentally from the Creator’s generous mode of exercising power at creation, which ought to function as an ethical paradigm or model for gracious and loving interhuman action.
The Renewal of the Image and the Flooding of Earth with God’s Presence Since human sin/violence has impeded and distorted (but not obliterated) the calling to be God’s image on earth, God has intervened in history to set things right, initially through the election of Abraham and his descendants as a “royal priesthood” (Exod. 19:6), that they might mediate blessing to all families and nations (Gen. 12:3; 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). Israel’s vocation vis-a-vis the nations therefore is analogous to the human calling as imago Dei vis-a-vis the earth. Indeed, the redemption of Israel constitutes the beginning of God’s renewal of the image, a process that would ultimately spread to the entire human race. Likewise, the tabernacle is God’s initial move to dwell on earth among a people who are being redeemed. But one day, “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (Hab. 2:14 [cf. Isa. 11:9]).
After a long and complex history of redemption, God’s saving action culminates in the coming of Jesus, the paradigm imago Dei (2 Cor. 4:4-6; Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3), God with us (Matt. 1:22-23), the one who completely manifested God’s character and presence in the full range of his earthly, human life (John 14:9). As the second Adam, Jesus fulfilled through his obedience (even unto death) what the first Adam compromised by disobedience (Rom. 5:12-19).
And the risen Jesus, vindicated through resurrection, has become the head of the church, an international community of Jew and gentile reconciled to each other and to God and indwelt by God’s Spirit. The church is thus the “new humanity” (a much better translation than “new self”), renewed in the image of God (Eph. 4:24; Col. 3:9-10; cf. 2 Cor. 3:18) and called to live up to the stature of Christ, whose perfect imaging becomes the model for the life of the redeemed (Phil. 2:5-11; Eph. 4:7-16, 22-24; 5:1; Col. 3:5-17). Indeed, one day the church will be conformed to the full likeness of Christ, which will include the resurrection of the body (1 Cor. 15:49; 1 John 3:2).
Whereas the church is God’s temple (1 Cor. 3:16-17; 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16; Eph. 2:21) indwelt by the Holy Spirit as a foretaste of that promised future, the day will come when “all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord” (Num. 14:21) and “God will be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28). Thus, at the end of the book of Revelation, when the curse is removed from the earth (a reversal of Gen. 3:17), God’s dwelling can no longer be confined to heaven; rather, God’s throne will be permanently established on a renewed earth (Rev. 21:3; 22:3), and those ransomed by Christ from all tribes and nations will reign as God’s priests forever (Rev. 5:9-10; 22:5). This climactic fulfillment of the cultural mandate and the imago Dei is portrayed through the figure of the new Jerusalem, which is both holy city and redeemed people, representing the renewal of communal urban culture, a righteous, embodied polis.
In the present, as the church lives “between the times,” those being renewed in the imago Dei are called to instantiate an embodied culture or social reality alternative to the violent and deathly formations and practices that dominate the world. By this conformity to Christ—the paradigm image of God—the church manifests God’s rule and participates in God’s mission to flood the world with the divine presence. In its concrete communal life the church as the body of Christ is called to witness to the promised future of a new heaven and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.
See also Animals; Authority and Power; Creation Ethics; Ecological Ethics; Egalitarianism; Humanity; Sin
Bibliography
Anderson, B. “Human Dominion over Nature.” Pages 111—31 in From Creation to New Creation: Old Testament Perspectives. Fortress, 1994; Bird, P. “Sexual Differentiation and Divine Image in the Genesis Creation Texts.” Pages 5—28 in The Image of God: Gender Models in Judaeo-Christian Tradition, ed. K. Borresen. Fortress, 1995; Hall, D. Imaging God: Dominion as Stewardship. Eerdmans, 1986; Janzen, W. Still in the Image: Essays in Biblical Theology and Anthropology. Faith & Life Press, 1982; Middleton, J. The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1. Brazos, 2005; Middleton, J., and B. Walsh. “The Empowered Self.” Pages 108—42 in Truth Is Stranger Than It Used to Be: Biblical Faith in a Postmodern Age. InterVarsity, 1995.
J. Richard Middleton
Tradition
Bishop and martyr Ignatius of Antioch attests to an early second-century commitment to total imitation of Christ, even unto death: “Allow me to be an imitator [mimetes] of the suffering of my God” (Ign. Rom. 6.3). Throughout Christian history, devout disciples have sought to embody Jesus’ holy teachings and actions, none more radically than Francis of Assisi, the renowned medieval itinerant preacher whose consuming Christlike life and ministry culminated in bearing stigmata of the crucified Christ in his hands, feet, and side (cf. Gal. 6:17).
However, despite these and other notable examples of those who closely emulated Jesus, by and large the imitation of Christ did not become a major tenet in the mainstream of Christian thought. More emphasis fell on Jesus’ uniqueness as the “only begotten” Son of God and as the atoning Savior than on his universality as moral guide and exemplar. Luther and other Protestants worried that imitatio Christi promoted a “works righteousness” path to salvation inimical to sola fide (faith alone). Calvin noted that “the Lord did many things which he did not intend as examples for us” (Institutes 4.19.29), and that “it is not right to take all his actions indiscriminately as objects of imitation” (commentary on John 13:14)—in particular, Jesus’ one-time, forty-day fast in the wilderness, his healing the paralyzed and raising the dead, his imparting the Spirit to his followers, and his sacrificial death on the cross.
The greatest impetus for imitating Jesus has come not through official church dogma and theological exposition, but rather through more popular piety and reflection. Two classic devotional works have been especially influential. The Imitation of Christ, by German Brethren teacher and Augustinian monk Thomas a Kempis (13801471), presents a series of meditations on Christian spirituality flowing from the conviction that “we ought to imitate [Christ’s] life and manners” and let “our chiefest endeavor be to meditate upon the life of Jesus Christ . . . to conform [our lives] wholly to the life of Christ” (1.1.1-2). Thomas’s reflections center on mystical union with the indwelling Christ and emulation of Christ’s humility, simplicity, self-denial, and cross-bearing.
In His Steps, by American Congregationalist pastor and social activist Charles M. Sheldon (1857-1946), takes the form of a novelistic series illustrating “social gospel” values. Whereas Thomas’s work primarily probes the inner life illuminated by Christ’s presence, Sheldon’s examines the outer life imitating Christ’s conduct in the world. Inspired by the week’s sermon text from 1 Pet. 2:21 (“Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps”) and a visit from a “shabby-looking tramp,” fictional pastor Henry Maxwell challenges his congregation to “pledge themselves earnestly and honestly for an entire year not to do anything without first asking the question, ‘What would Jesus do?’ ” The narrative traces the struggles of the pastor and the parishioners to practice what Jesus would do in their community, concentrating on alleviating social ills such as poverty, lack of healthcare, unemployment, and alcoholism. Sheldon’s “What would Jesus do?” motto reemerged with fresh vigor among Christian youth at the end of the twentieth century, advertised in various “WWJD?” paraphernalia and applied rather amorphously to a wide range of personal as well as social issues.
Scripture
The language of “imitation” is fairly rare in the NT: the verb mimeomai (“to imitate”) appears four times, and the noun mimetes (“imitator”) six times. In only two cases is the imitation of Christ specifically in view, and both times it is secondary to other emphases: “Be imitators [mimetai] of me [Paul], as I am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1); “And you became imitators [mimetai] of us [Paul and associates] and of the Lord” (1 Thess. 1:6). Ephesians 5:1 stands out, exhorting God’s “beloved children” to “be imitators [mimetai] of God,” particularly practicing gracious forgiveness to one another “as God in Christ has forgiven you” (Eph. 4:32). Otherwise, objects of proper imitation include faithful ancestors (Heb. 6:12), Christian ministers (1 Cor. 4:16; 2 Thess. 3:7, 9; Heb. 13:7), churches (1 Thess. 2:14), and “what is good” (3 John 11).
However, the importance of imitating Jesus as a principal goal of Christian discipleship reaches beyond mimetic terminology.
Gospels and Acts. Jesus’ primary call to disci-pleship in the Gospels, “Follow me,” shocks in its simplicity and audacity. It comes with no preparation or negotiation, no curriculum or instruction manual. It demands abrupt and total response, leaving everything behind to follow Jesus (literally) on his homeless itinerant mission (“no place to lay his head” [Matt. 8:19-20; Luke 9:57-58]), which culminates in crucifixion. Along the way, Jesus’ disciples discover his majestic glory, power, and authority as their Lord and God, requiring their wholehearted service, obedience, and worship. So following Jesus is more than an apprenticeship in Christian practice or learning how to live as Jesus lived.
But it is no less than that. Blazing the trail as the incarnate Son of God, Jesus expects his followers to reflect his character and perpetuate his mission: “A disciple is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully qualified will be like the teacher” (Luke 6:40); “For I [your Lord and Teacher] have set you an example, that you should do as I have done to you” (John 13:15). In particular, Jesus calls his disciples to imitate his “fishing for people” (Mark 1:17), serving at table (Luke 22:24-27), washing one another’s feet (John 13:12-15), and, especially, denying oneself and taking up the cross (Matt. 10:38-39; 16:24-26; Mark 8:34-36; Luke 9:23-25; 14:27). In the Johan-nine tradition, Jesus stresses his followers’ vocation to love one another “just as I have loved you,” with the supreme models of Jesus’ love being his humble service and voluntary surrender of his life for his “friends” (John 10:11-15; 13:1, 12-17, 34-35; 15:12-15; cf. 1 John 2:5-11; 3:11-24; 4:7-12). Apart from specific charges to imitate Jesus within the Gospels, their primary genre as ancient Hellenistic biography (bios) suggests an overarching purpose of presenting the words, deeds, and full character of Jesus as worthy of emulation (see Burridge).
In both the Gospel of John and the book of Acts, the indwelling Holy Spirit plays a vital role in enabling Jesus’ disciples to recall his words and further his work after his ascension (John 14:1526; 15:26-27; 16:5-15; 20:20-23; Acts 1:4-8; 2:1-4, 17-21, 38-39; 4:31; 8:14-17; 10:44-48; 19:1-7). In Acts, Spirit-filled leaders such as Peter, Stephen, and Paul closely parallel (imitate) the ministry of Jesus in prophetic witness, miracle-working, persecution, and martyrdom (e.g., 3:1-10; 4:8-22; 6:8-10; 7:55-60; 9:32-42; 14:8-10; 20:7-12, 2223). Potentially, however, the gift of “the Spirit of Jesus” (16:7) is for “everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him” (2:39).
Pauline and other New Testament writings. Although generically distinct from the Gospels and containing scant references to Jesus’ earthly life, the letters of Paul still assume the metanarrative of Christ’s coming into the world as the paradigm of Christian conduct. The hymn in Phil. 2:6-11 concisely plots Christ’s story as a self-emptying appropriation of full human identity in the lowly “form of a slave” characterized by humility and obedience “to the point of death—even death on a cross” and vindicated by divine exaltation. Introducing this hymn, Paul exhorts the Philippian believers to “let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (2:5). Although some have argued that Paul simply calls for assenting belief in Christ’s work, a concomitant concern for imitating Christ’s self-giving, cross-bearing disposition and behavior should not be diminished. The surrounding context in 1:27-2:16 stresses the humble attitudes (“mind”) and actions that the Philippians should display, and Paul’s own brief autobiography in 3:4-11 remarkably follows Christ’s pattern: “suffering the loss of all things” and striving to know and “gain” Christ most fully by “becoming like him in his death.”
This focus on emulating Christ’s selfless, even sacrificial, service fits the pattern of discipleship in the Gospels and Acts and is explicitly reinforced elsewhere in Paul and other NT texts. As Christ “did not please himself” and “though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor,” so we should set aside our own interests and resources to help the weak and needy among us (Rom. 15:1-3; 2 Cor. 8:8-9). The footsteps (1 Pet. 2:21) and footrace (Heb. 12:12) of Jesus, which we are called to follow, proceed along a track of unjust suffering culminating initially in crucifixion, but ultimately in God’s justice and glory (Heb. 12:1-4; 1 Pet. 2:20-24).
Assessment
The imitation of Jesus in tradition and Scripture stresses a thoroughgoing, wholehearted response of discipleship to Jesus as sovereign Lord and suffering servant more than adherence to a set of characteristics or rules of conduct. Guidance and strength for following the Lord Jesus in today’s world come from the foundational portraits of Jesus in the NT and the abiding Spirit of Jesus within individual believers and the community of faith.
Responsible imitation of Jesus must critically distinguish exemplary from exceptional dimensions of Christ’s character and calling, being especially mindful of two things: Jesus’ peculiar cultural-historical context in first-century Palestine, which necessarily complicates judgments concerning “what Jesus would do” two millennia later, and Jesus’ inimitable spiritual-vocational identity as the redeeming Savior and Christ, accomplishing for us what we cannot do by ourselves. Moreover, we must remain alert to power dimensions inherent in an ethic rooted in the imitation of Jesus (see Adam; Castelli). Who determines what Jesus would do or have us do today? Coming from less faithful and proven authorities than the apostle Paul, mandates to “be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1) raise dangerous prospects of exalting oneself and exploiting others.
See also Love, Love Command; Martyrdom; Power and Authority
Bibliography
Adam, A. “Walk This Way: Repetition, Difference, and the Imitation of Christ.” Pages 105—23 in Faithful Interpretation: Reading the Bible in a Postmodern World. Fortress, 2006; Burridge, R. Imitating Jesus: An Inclusive Approach to New Testament Ethics. Eerdmans, 2007; Castelli, E. Imitating Paul: A Discourse of Power. Westminster John Knox, 1991; Longenecker, R., ed. Patterns of Disciple-ship in the New Testament. Eerdmans, 1996; Miles, M. “Imitation of Christ: Is It Possible in the Twentieth Century?” PSB 10 (1989): 7—22; Segovia, F., ed. Discipleship in the New Testament. Fortress, 1985; Shuster, M. “The Use and Misuse of the Idea of the Imitation of Christ.” Ex auditu 14 (1998): 70—81; Spencer, F. “ ‘Follow Me’: The Imperious Call of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels.” Int 59 (2005): 142—53; idem. What Did Jesus Do? Gospel Profiles of Jesus’ Personal Conduct. Trinity Press International, 2003; Swartley, W “Discipleship and Imitation of Jesus the Suffering Servant: The Mimesis of New Creation.” Pages 356—76 in Covenant of Peace: The Missing Peace in New Testament Theology and Ethics. Eerdmans, 2006; Webster, J. “The Imitation of Christ.” TynBul 37 (1986): 95—120.
F. Scott Spencer
Immigration See Aliens, Immigration, and Refugees
The concept of imperialism refers to the attitudes and practices associated with one country’s attempt to extend power into and maintain power over other countries through military conquest, political or economic control, cultural hegemony, or some combination thereof. Or, as Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri suggest, it is the attempt to expand national sovereignty beyond national borders. It is marked not only by hierarchical relationships between countries but also by expansionist and supremacist attitudes within dominant countries.
The term imperialism goes back only as far as the nineteenth century, when it was used to describe Napoleon’s military ambitions and Disraeli’s more complicated goal of spreading English “civilization” to the rest of the world, but the concept extends much further back in time. By definition, empires exercise imperialism, and empires go back to the fourth millennium BCE, including ancient civilizations such as Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, Greece, and Rome. The consensus among biblical scholars is that most of the OT as well as the NT and the Talmud were written by Jews and Christians living under the power of foreign empires. It is unsurprising, then, that the contexts and languages of those empires shape Scripture, which in turn shapes these faiths. Indeed, much of Jewish and Christian history is marked by the movements of the two faiths through empire, and much of Jewish and Christian theology can be described through attention to the two faiths’ participation in and reactions to imperialism.
The relation of these faiths to imperialism is not uniform, however. Richard Horsley has helpfully outlined a typology of the ways religion and empire might relate: religion might reinforce the claims of empire by providing a theological justification for its existence and work; it might subvert empire by uncovering its idolatries and offering in its stead theopolitical alternatives; and it might define an empire. Like all typologies, Horsley’s warrants further specification (there are many kinds of empire and many ways religion can reinforce, subvert, or define empires) and risks overinterpretation of its subject matter so that too much weight is given to the shaping of religions by their connections to empire. As a heuristic device, however, these three types are helpful because each type is visible in the Christian and Jewish texts and traditions.
• Religion reinforces imperialism. Interpreted weakly, Scripture reinforces imperialism, as when Isa. 45 refers to the Persian king Cyrus as God’s anointed to release the exiles, or when Paul, in Rom. 13, suggests that even Roman authority comes from God. More strongly, any number of empires have benefited from the blessings of powerful segments of the Christian church—for example, Constantin-ian rule as described by Eusebius, the British Empire of the nineteenth century as described by evangelical missionaries, and, more controversially, the United States “empire” at the beginning of the twenty-first century as described by the Religious Right.
• Religion subverts imperialism. Having never been written from the perspective of imperial power, Scripture regularly subverts imperial ambitions. Jesus uses the language of empire to describe the kingdom of God, thereby undermining Roman pretenses to eternal power. Apocalyptic literature is so marked by a vision in which established empires are overturned that some biblical scholars suggest that anti-imperialism is a defining mark of apocalypticism.
• Religion defines empire. The Holy Roman Empire of Charlemagne could not be described without immediate reference to Christendom as the basis for imperial rule. Islam, with which Judaism and Christianity have both contended, is defined by the joining together of an imperial politic and religious way of life, as is, eschatologically, the new Jerusalem as
well.
Because the relationships between the political and the spiritual are so complex, some theologies join several of these approaches. Augustine, for example, provides both a language for reinforcing imperialism and a vision of the world that undermines it in his City of God. More recently, postcolonial theologians and post-Marxist scholars have paid close attention to the claims, dangers, and, in some instances, possibilities of imperialism. Indeed, contemporary attention to ancient empires on the part of biblical scholars reveals both hermeneutical discoveries about the power of old imperialisms and stimulates new insight into American imperialism.
See also Colonialism and Postcolonialism; Conquest; Nationalism; Political Ethics; Powers and Principalities; Propaganda
Bibliography
Avram, W., ed. Anxious about Empire: Theological Essays on the New Global Realities. Brazos, 2004; Etherington, N. Theories of Imperialism: War, Conquest, and Capital. Barnes & Noble, 1984; Hardt, M., and A. Negri, Empire. Harvard University Press, 2000; Hobson, J. Imperialism: A Study. Allen & Unwin, 1938; Horsley, R. Paul and Empire: Religion and Power in Roman Imperial Power. Trinity Press International, 1997; idem. Religion and Empire: People, Power, and the Life of the Spirit. Fortress, 2003;
Pui-lan, K., et al., eds. Empire and the Christian Tradition: New Readings of Classical Theologians. Fortress, 2007; Said, E. Culture and Imperialism. Vintage Books, 1994.
Mark Douglas
As a doctrine, incarnation refers to the reality of God in human form and substance as Jesus Christ, as well as the process by which this embodiment occurred. As a concept, incarnation can point more widely to other noncorporeal entities that take on bodies or material forms.
Scripture and Doctrine
Central to the scriptural understanding of incarnation is the prologue to John’s Gospel, especially the affirmation that “the Word” was with God and was God (John 1:1), the proclamation that “the Word became flesh” (John 1:14), and the identification of the Word with the light (John 1:7-9) about which John the Baptist testified, who was Jesus. Also of key importance is an early Christian hymn, quoted in the Letter to the Philippians, describing J esus being “in the form of God” (Phil. 2:6), but also “being born in human likeness” and “being found in human form” (Phil. 2:7). The understanding that Jesus was both human and divine received little attention in the rest of the NT, but Christian theology of the subsequent centuries struggled extensively to explain this dual identity or nature of Jesus. The equation of Jesus and God raised numerous objections that the NT’s few references could not easily overcome. Chief among these questions were concerns such as Jesus’ preexistence, the significance of Jesus’ death or God’s death on the cross, and the process and timing of Jesus’ becoming human or becoming divine.
Of the early church’s many explanations, trinitarian theology came to the fore within the church’s first few centuries as the dominant theory and then as the orthodox view. The idea of the Trinity is that God exists as three persons within one deity. Jesus is regarded as the second of these persons but coexistent with and equal to God the Father and God the Spirit. As such, Jesus can be called God the Son, or God incarnate.
This theology of Trinity finds expression in the church’s classic creeds. For instance, the Nicene Creed of 325 (with revisions in 381) describes Jesus as “the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made, of one Being with the Father” (International Consultation on English Texts). Further, “by the power of the Holy Spirit, he [Jesus] became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” This solution emphasizes the unity of Jesus and God (“of one Being,” “true God”) while affirming that Jesus came from God (“from God,” “begotten”), and seeing humanity as something into which God the Son entered (“was made man”).
Despite numerous challenges in every era, this formulation remains as the classic expression of Christian understanding of God’s incarnation in Jesus. However, there are a number of arguments against trinitarianism based on different definitions of the divine essence, substance, or form that Jesus and God share or the human essence, substance, or form that distinguishes Jesus from other divine persons of the Trinity. Others have approached the problem of the incarnation in terms of difficulty in discerning literal versus symbolic language and reality when dealing with abstractions such as God’s nature and essence. Other scholars have argued against the trinitarian incarnation because of its exclusivism, especially with regard to other religions. Significant divergent theories of incarnation include adoptionism (Jesus was human at birth, but then God elevated him and accepted him as divine; often, this is argued with reference to Luke 3:22 or other Gospel parallels), Docetism (concepts of Jesus as only seeming to be human, such as some gnostic belief), binitarianism (the doctrine that God and Jesus are divine but that the Spirit occupies a secondary and nonequal role), Oneness Pentecostalism (a twentieth-century movement seeing God as one spirit with three manifestations rather than three persons), as well as pantheistic or panentheistic approaches (emphasizing God’s presence in many or all parts of creation rather than as a separate independent entity). Nevertheless, the incarnation of God in Jesus is usually understood as a requirement and hallmark of true Christian faith.
Other Developments in Scripture Although Scripture provides few passages that discuss incarnation as an essential relationship of God and Jesus or as a philosophical explanation of Jesus’ nature, in many instances Scripture discusses God’s embodiment. Often, OT texts depict God with arms (e.g., Deut. 26:8; Ps. 89:13; Isa. 62:8; Jer. 21:5), legs (Gen. 3:8), face (Exod. 33:11; Ps. 80:7), breath (Gen. 2:7; Job 4:9), and other physical features (Exod. 33:23). Ancient Israel’s neighbors believed in gods who inhabited material objects, but Israel denied this practice of idolatry. Further, Israel’s later neighbors believed in multiple deities with human features and form, and some of the OT may reflect associated thoughts. Certainly, Israel used the language of embodiment to speak of God as in a form that humans would recognize. Perhaps this was poetic and metaphorical anthropomorphizing, but in many places the OT texts read sensibly if one imagines a God who is physically present in recognizable form.
Likewise, the NT speaks of the “body of Christ” (Rom. 12:5; 1 Cor. 12:12, 27; Eph. 3:6; 4:12; 5:23, 29; Col. 3:15) as the group of believers who survive after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension. In Jesus’ absence, Christ’s body remains. Although the Christian tradition usually understands this as metaphor, the concept of Christ’s body shares in common with many other biblical texts an understanding of God’s enduring physical presence with humanity.
Contemporary Applications
The incarnation is a classic Christian doctrine with almost two thousand years’ history of theological debate, much of which has been conducted in rarefied discourse. However, at least two contemporary streams of Christian ethical reflection interact with incarnational and embodied understandings.
Through incarnation, God chose to be present in human form, in a human body. This emphasis on God’s embodiment empowers ethical consideration of how people treat the human body. Paul understood the human body as a temple or dwelling place for God’s spirit (1 Cor. 6:19), and incar-national theologies bolster this concept. There is a hallowedness or sacredness to the human body, which was created in God’s own image and which God blessed and pronounced good (Gen. 1:27-28). The goodness and sacredness of the human body stand in contrast to a theological history of denigrating the body as an unworthy vessel and as sinful flesh, reflecting a fallen humanity that cannot be good. Thus, recent incarnational theologies correct this theological devaluation of the body and lift up the body as something that God esteems, treasures, and even chooses as habitation. This approach provides a theological grounding for an understanding of the sanctity of human life. At present, Christians do not agree about the particular ramifications of the body’s goodness. For some, the sanctity of life means a pro-life, antiabortion, and antieuthanasia stand; for others, the sanctity of life argues against the death penalty and gun ownership. Even in the midst of these disagreements, persons of faith are finding increasing common ground on several embodied concerns: a struggle against hunger, a refusal of slavery, a disavowal of war’s horrors, and a rejection of torture. Incarnation shows us an embodied God who resists acts that defile, devalue, or damage human bodies.
Embodiment theologies also lead persons of faith to new awareness of the ways our societies have divided themselves along bodily lines. The sins of racism and sexism have been grounded in denigrations of certain types of bodies, and recognition of divine embodiment allows renewed energies against these historic and pervasive sins. At the same time, we have a growing realization that humans have idealized certain bodily forms and discriminated against those whose bodies do not fit social norms. This occurs in cases of sexual orientation, disability (itself a contested term), inherited conditions, diseases and syndromes (including HIV/AIDS), bodily modifications (ranging from tattoos to transgendered persons), as well as other situations. Faith communities struggle now with inclusivity, and these issues remain an important area for ethics and social change.
See also Body; Humanity; Image of God; Sanctity of Human Life; Trinity
Bibliography
Berquist, J. Controlling Corporeality: The Body and the Household in Ancient Israel. Rutgers University Press, 2002; idem, Incarnation. UBT. Chalice Press, 2000; Betcher, S. Spirit and the Politics of Disablement. Fortress, 2007; Boring, M. Truly Human, Truly Divine: Christological Language and Gospel Form. CBP Press, 1984; Copeland, M. Enfleshing Freedom: Body, Race, and Being. Fortress, 2009; Hick, J., ed. The Myth of God Incarnate. Westminster, 1977; Jantzen, G. God’s World, God’s Body. Westminster, 1984; Kim, Y. Christ’s Body in Corinth: The Politics of a Metaphor. Fortress, 2008; McFague, S. The Body of God: An Ecological Theology. Fortress, 1993; Molnar, P. Incarnation and Resurrection: Toward a Contemporary Understanding. Eerdmans, 2007; Moore, S. God’s Gym: Divine Male Bodies of the Bible. Routledge, 1996; O’Collins, G. Incarnation. Continuum, 2007; Segal, A. “The Jewish Milieu.” Pages 116—39 in The Incarnation: An Interdisciplinary Symposium on the Incarnation of the Son of God. Oxford University Press, 2002; Torrance, T. Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ. InterVarsity Academic, 2008.
Jon L. Berquist
Incest taboos—prohibitions against sexual intercourse or other sexual contact between close
kin—are both widely attested across cultures and variable. Which relationships are restricted, how seriously the taboos are taken, and the primary concerns underlying the prohibitions differ from group to group.
The NT seems to take OT incest prohibitions for granted; only one NT passage explicitly addresses the topic (1 Cor. 5:1-5). In the OT, legal texts delineate prohibited pairings (Lev. 18:6-19; Deut. 22:30 [23:1 MT]), define the punishment for incest violations (Lev. 20:11-12, 14, 17), and curse undetected offenders (Deut. 27:20, 22-23). Leviticus 18:6-19, the most comprehensive of the legal texts, first bars sexual intercourse between a man and anyone “near of kin” (se’er besaro, lit., “flesh of his flesh,” defined by Lev. 21:2 as father, mother, son, daughter, brother, and unmarried sister) and then explicitly identifies twelve prohibited consanguinous (blood) and affinal (by marriage) relatives. Reflecting the patriarchal structure of ancient Israelite families, the prohibitions cast males as subjects and females as objects.
Numerous OT narratives recount relationships prohibited in Lev. 18. Some implicitly condemn incest. Genesis 19:30-38 stigmatizes Moabites and Ammonites by portraying them as descended from Lot and his daughters. Reuben and Absalom are disparaged for sleeping with the concubines of their fathers (Gen. 35:22; 49:4; 2 Sam. 16:21-22), while Ham is cursed for looking on the “nakedness” of his father (Gen. 9:20-25). Other stories depict as neutral or even positive marriage to a half-sister (Gen. 20:12; see also 2 Sam. 12:13), sexual intercourse between a man and his daughter-in-law (Gen. 38), and marriage between a man and his aunt (Exod. 6:20). The diversity of Israelite attitudes toward incest is also attested by the law of levirate marriage (Deut. 25:5-10), which directly contradicts the prohibition against a man marrying his brother’s wife (Lev. 18:16). Perhaps Lev. 18 (a relatively late text) represents legal reform; perhaps the tensions between the different texts reflect diverse opinions of different social circles in Israel.
In modern times, incest continues to be a matter of deep ethical concern. The focus of current ethical and psychological discussions of the topic has shifted, however. Old Testament authors sought to protect boundaries within families in order to prevent pollution, to limit conflict between males, and to protect male rights to women’s sexuality, since “her nakedness” is really “his nakedness” (see Lev. 18:16). Today, while few would approve of incest between consenting, equally powerful adults, the discussion centers primarily on the abusive nature of the majority of incest cases and the grievous emotional, psychological, and (at times) physical harm done to the victim. In contrast to the OT laws, incest is viewed not as a violation of the “nakedness” of the father, grandfather, brother, and so on, but rather as a violation of the less powerful and thus vulnerable family member. Ethical critique of such abuse finds support not only in the incest laws, but especially in prophetic denunciation of exploitation of the powerless and in Jesus’ care for the hurt and the oppressed.
See also Holiness Code; Sex and Sexuality; Sexual Abuse; Sexual Ethics
Bibliography
Brenner, A. “On Incest.” Pages 113—38 in A Feminist Companion to Exodus to Deuteronomy, ed. A. Brenner. FCB 6. Sheffield Academic Press, 1994.
Carolyn Pressler
The term individualism refers to the tendency across a broad array of spheres—politics, religion, psychology, philosophy—to make the individual person and the individual’s fulfillment the locus of concern and measure of success. In secular
ethics or moral philosophy, for example, each person becomes the final arbiter of what is true, good, and moral. Individualism also describes an ethos or belief system within cultures such as the United States that have historically protected and promoted individual liberty and the pursuit of each person’s own vision of happiness. As such, individualism arguably supports political and economic values that Westerners consider selfevidently invaluable, such as representative democracy, economic creativity and expansion, and concepts of equality and personal liberty. However, this viewpoint and language has largely fallen out of favor in the postmodern academic milieu. Some social and moral philosophers aver that individualism’s natural fruits are seen in the relativism that marks modern ethical discussion, in self-centered psychology and a “me first” culture, and in the fragmentation of societies now marred by isolation, loneliness, and greed.
Overall, the term individualism is best understood as a cultural value or bias, remarkably fruitful in Western civilization, that, despite heated discussions, is unlikely to be entirely displaced even as it is necessarily critiqued and honed by the discussions from within and outside the church. Utilized from within the Christian story, individualism provides a useful lens and acts as an interpretive key. It helps us read our culture, understand its development, and, when we are aware of its potential pitfalls, question ways we frame moral questions. Awareness of the bias of individualism can also help us read Scripture so that we remain tethered to important ethical commitments as we approach questions of morality. Just as no one tool proves sufficient for all needs, the biblical witness must correct individualism so that the church can truthfully witness as the body of Christ within individualistic societies.
Christian ethicists, especially those concerned with political theology, debate whether individualism can or should be rescued, as well as its legacy in political and moral theory. Understood as raw selfishness, atomism (i.e., the self as independent of others), or egoistic self-promotion, surely it should be rejected. But many Christians argue that a focus on the individual also upholds the protection and flourishing of persons. For many Christians and non-Christians, individualism as a belief in the value of each person encourages and nourishes justice, particularly as it is enshrined in the conception of natural or human rights. On the one hand, Christians can affirm an individualist lens in social and personal ethics if it focuses our attention on persons qua persons, created in the image of God with accompanying inherent dignity and individual responsibility (Gen. 1:26-28). On the other hand, if it is the primary lens through which we read human experience or determine morality, individualism skews our vision and fails to account for our relationality, our nature as beings who finally become individual “selves” only in community with others and with God.
Many philosophers, social theorists, and ethi-cists agree that Christianity historically fostered individualism, although they disagree about whether this development is positive or negative. These arguments highlight how individualism determines and frames ethical issues. From Augustine’s deeply personal autobiography (Confessions) through the Reformation and its emphasis on conscience and a personal relationship with God, Christianity coupled with Western culture laid the groundwork for the ethos of individualism, especially the sense that persons are moral agents. Although secular humanism developed during the Renaissance and blossomed in the modern period, its confidence in the human person and preoccupation with the individual as the locus of concern in literature, politics, and economics probably would not be possible apart from Christianity’s supporting role.
Within ethics, no single philosophy encapsulates the attractiveness and limitations of individualism as does the ethics of Immanuel Kant. He eloquently and powerfully argued for the autonomy of the individual, and his work remains one of the most influential articulations of morality today. Kant asserted a duty-based morality that focused on an individual’s motivation; as a rational being, each person discerns the universal principles on which he or she ought to act. In order to be truly free, each must act as an autonomous (selfgoverning) person; Kant insisted on the value and dignity of every person. His rich work undergirds modern concepts of individual rights, personal liberty, and self-determination.
Some Christian ethicists find Kant’s influence to be damaging on a number of fronts. They assert that “rights” language unwittingly birthed a society of individuals who seek entitlements and protect themselves in competitive or even violent self-promotion and possessiveness. This is evidenced not only in economic and political spheres but also in intimate ones, such as bioethics (as in the right to reproduce or the right to choose abortion) and sexuality (such as the right to sexual satisfaction or personal fulfillment in marriage). Community becomes difficult if not impossible in such an environment, encouraging each individual to pursue personal good at others’ expense.
They also question Kant’s conception that individuals are capable of, or should even strive for, disembodied and impartial rationality. Rather, we must consciously approach questions of morality shaped by our commitments, especially our faith. Additionally, if Christians affirm Kantian autonomy as the ideal mode of ethical reflection, the church forfeits a central countercultural aspect of its witness: we find our freedom and truest end not in self-determination but in submission to Christ and one another (Luke 17:33; John 12:25; Rom. 6:17-18; 2 Cor. 10:5-6).
Others consider such worries overblown, a caricature of Kant and the Enlightenment’s legacy. They commonly accuse critics of being sectarians who enjoy the fruit of these concepts themselves while denying its protective framework for social justice to others. Christian criticism of individuality and in particular of human rights leaves the weak and marginalized, whom God commends to the church for particular care and concern, at the mercy of those who falsely claim that traditional ideals and community trump individual well-being, as in theologies that justified slavery, patriarchy, colonialism, anti-Semitism, and apartheid. Aspects of individualism provide the language and rationale for Christians and others to seek each human’s flourishing within personal and social spheres. It does not demand denial of shared or common goods, nor does valuing the individual necessarily result in possessiveness or atomism.
Like any cultural value, individualism often presses out of its proper place and claims too much of our loyalty. Only if Christians maintain a critical distance from cultural biases can they find the wisdom to critique or support such values. From within the Christian story, such knowledge comes through humility before God, Scripture, and others; from such a location we must temper individualism so that it becomes a tool for nourishing just and truthful communities.
See also Collective Responsibility; Common Good; Democracy; Feminist Ethics; Human Rights; Image of God; Political Ethics; Self
Bibliography
Bellah, R., et al. Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life. 3rd ed. University of California Press, 2007; Hauerwas, S., and S. Wells. “How the Church Managed before There Was Ethics.” Pages 39-50 in The Blackwell Companion to Christian Ethics, ed. S. Hauerwas and S. Wells. Blackwell, 2004; idem. “Why Christian Ethics Was Invented.” Pages 28-38 in The Blackwell Companion to Christian Ethics, ed. S. Hauerwas and S. Wells. Blackwell, 2004; Mount, E. Covenant, Community, and the Common Good: An Interpretation of Christian Ethics. Pilgrim Press, 1999; Mouw, R. “Individualism and Christian Faith.” ThTo 38 (1982): 450-57; Taylor, C. Sources of the Self: The Making of Modern Identity. Harvard University Press, 1989; Wuthnow, R. American Mythos: Why Our Best Efforts to Be a Better Nation Fall Short. Princeton University Press, 2008.
Erin Dufault-Hunter