Having a child is a funny thing. 

“She looks like you.” 

“No! She looks like her mum!” 

And you’re just sitting there, like, she looks like a baby. But then you start to notice: those eyes, the shape of her nose, early signs that she bears her mother and father’s image. 

It’s a funny thing to bear someone’s image. 

In Genesis 1, God repeats four times that humankind is created in his image.¹ But what does that mean? Is God a 6 foot white male with a scraggly beard? I think likely not – although there’s a great body of Christian art that would disagree with me.

So, what does it mean to be made in the image of God? I suppose a helpful question would be what do we already know about God, here in Genesis 1?

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
_{Genesis 1:1}

The Bible opens with a beautiful account of God’s creation. The One who was before all things, who brings creation out of nothing, forms the world and places people in it as his image bearers. So we know that God is creative. He looks into the vast nothingness, imagines what could be, and brings forth creation. Already we’re developing a picture of what it might look like to reflect God’s image, but what is only implied here becomes much clearer in Genesis 2.

The author begins with a brief summation of what has happened and then goes on to pose a problem in Genesis 2:5.

Now no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant had yet sprung up, for the Lord God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no one to work the ground.
_{Genesis 2:5}

This seems like an odd problem. Surely the same God who just created everything doesn’t need humans to help these plants to grow? It’s clear that this supposed problem isn’t about God’s limitations, but rather is about God’s desire. God doesn’t want creation to be his work alone – God wants to partner with his created people, the ones who bear his image, in the work of creation. God sends the rain, his people work the ground.

So, God creates Adam and places him in the Garden of Eden to take care of it.² Now at this point it may seem like God just wants Adam to look after what is already there, to maintain the status quo, to be a caretaker. And yes – certainly we should care for this world that God has made! But God has more in mind for Adam, so he gives him a task.

Now the Lord God had formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds in the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name.
_{Genesis 2:19}

This is far more than a passive caretaker role! God brings his creation before Adam and calls him to participate, to take what God has made and to build upon it. Andy Crouch writes:

God is perfectly capable of naming every animal and giving Adam a dictionary – but he does not. He makes room for Adam’s creativity – not just waiting for Adam to give a preexisting right answer to a quiz but genuinely allowing Adam to be the one who speaks something out of nothing.³

Parents know that giving children the agency to name things is a fraught and dangerous business. I was reminded of this as my wife recounted the names of three frogs she had as a child: Thunder, Lightning, and Walter. 

What God is doing here is significant. He is delegating his divine agency and authority to Adam to allow him to participate in a meaningful way, and it’s not without risk. 

Imagine you’re a painter and you’ve just spent days pouring over a canvas, until finally you’ve perfected your masterpiece. Now imagine handing over your paint and brushes to a small child and telling them, “Go nuts!” 

We’re quite precious about the things we create, likely to safeguard them, to keep them from others in order to retain our artistic vision. Yet God, having just brought forth a masterpiece of creation, wastes no time in calling his image bearers to participate and build on it – and it’s risky. In Genesis 3 we observe the heartbreak as Adam and Eve disobey God and we see sin enter the world, tarnishing God’s beautiful canvas. Still, God accepts this risk in order that we might participate, not just as caretakers, but as co-creators.

When I was a child, my dad had a large collection of Star Wars Lego sets that he proudly displayed on the bookshelf in his office. We were allowed to play with them, take them apart and make something new, but under one strict condition: when we were done playing with the set, it had to be re-assembled and placed back on the shelf. I think this little story can teach us a few helpful things about what it means to be God’s image bearers. 

In playing with the Lego, I would take pre-existing materials and make something new. The X-wing Starfighter would become a house or a car – or perhaps something more abstract, in the vein of Picasso. As we participate in God’s creation, we take what he has already made, but we turn it into something new. There is an “out of nothing” quality to this kind of creation, and we’re much more likely to downplay the significance of it, rather than give it appropriate weight! This is God’s desire for his image bearers: not that they would simply maintain what he has made, but that they would take what he has made and make something new.

Unlike my dad with the Lego, God does not expect us to re-arrange the pieces when we’re finished playing. We see this played out in the closing of the Bible in Revelation, when John describes “a new heaven and a new earth”.⁴

John mark Comer writes:

The closing image isn’t of a cloud or a harp or Raphael and his floating cupids; it’s of a city. A city with walls and gates and streets and dwellings and a river and a forest and culture…It’s draped in language straight out of Genesis.⁵

Comer notes the Genesis language at play, but there’s something more happening there. This is not just a garden, but a garden-city. Creation that has been redeemed by Christ, but is also composed of human creativity and activity. The kind of creation that humans do, then, is far from meaningless.

God uses the things that his image bearers create as part of his good work in the world, yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever.

So, what do we do with all this? Have fun! Go paint something, try a new herb or spice in your cooking, or do some gardening. Write a song, or create a new chord on a guitar. Build something out of wood, write a poem. These are some of the many ways that we express the image of God, and it’s good, beautiful and meaningful.