The Image of God

In our (my wife’s and my) church small group last night we we’re studying from that morning’s sermon on Mark 12:13-17. This is the well-known story of paying taxes to Caesar: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (v. 17 ESV). What often happens with well-known passages of Scripture, however, is that – as with well-known water-courses – I tend to slide into the same rut I’ve commonly fallen into when reading down the verses. But occasionally, God pulls me out of that rut and shows me something above and beyond the stream-banks.

In this case, our pastor also talked about the “image and inscription” on the denarius, that of Caesar’s. He challenged us that our image and inscription, as Christians, is actually that of Christ, not of we ourselves. I think it was in light of that thought, and the discussion around it, that something in verse 14 stuck out to me.

(I’ve started reading the English Standard Version here and there just to get a different perspective on verses.)

In ESV, the Pharisees say: “Teacher, we know that you are true and do not care about anyone’s opinion. You are not swayed by appearances, but truly teach the way of God.” Now, it doesn’t stick out as boldly in ESV, so here it is in NIV: “Teacher, we know that you are a man of integrity. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are; but you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.”

Did you catch that? Do you think Jesus spoke the way he did to the woman at the well (John 4:1-42) because he didn’t pay attention to who she was? Did he heal the sick because he paid no attention to who they were? Was he amazed at the centurion’s faith (Matt. 8:5-13) because he paid no attention to who he was?

I think Jesus pays attention to exactly who people are – who they truly are, as image-bearers of God the Father. He pays absolutely no attention to their earthly status because that is a charade put on by men for men. Try as I might, I still value those who contribute more than those who do not. A homeless man dies in a back alley, I pay no attention and go on my way; a composer or President or philanthropist dies, and networks cover their funeral and life for hours, and sometimes days. And I do that because I pay no attention to who people are, I pay attention to what they did.

In my deepest core, I must shake off this works-based faith. Its roots go incredibly deep, and its effects shade every interaction I experience. If I see the immortal breath of God in human beings instead of the blink-by-blink choices, how might I see differently the homeless, the sick, the Democrat, the Republican, the home-invader, the mass-murderer? Would I so easily ignore, dismiss, vilify, kill? Should I?