When we enter the poetic story of creation in the very beginning of our Bibles, we find that God has made sky and earth and sea, plants and animals, and they are good. Then God seemingly pauses to consider. Shall he go on to make one final crowning creature, but in so doing risk the success of his work? Apparently speaking to himself, God decides to go ahead and take the chance. So there is fashioned one last pair of creatures, with whom no less than the divine image is shared (Gen. 1:26-27). Was it worth it? The cross is the only answer we are given.

The image of God in which human beings were created is an important theological concept which, as was remarked last week, is often alluded to in the worship of the Episcopal Church. But what is this mysterious image? Is it having an intelligent mind conscious of its own consciousness? Or freedom of the will and power to do good or ill? Or is it our unique creativity and power to shape our world and our lives? Or is it our dominance over other creatures?

Amid such serious reflections, it is well to remind ourselves of what the Bible says. In the story as given, the man and the woman look like God. Standing upright amid the four-footed beasts, looking ahead with expressive faces with mouths that can talk and with hands that can shape things, what they look like expresses who they are.

Of course, the ancient rabbis who put together the opening chapter of Genesis knew the appearances of God and of ourselves cannot simply be equated. In any case, our physical appearance in this story symbolizes much more. There indeed are many dimensions to this image. Yet the vivid biblical story of our looking like God carries more force than lengthy theological or philosophic terms, while at the same time leaving the door open to subsequent intellectual and spiritual discussion and reflection. The image remains a mystery, known yet unknown, apparent and yet veiled.

Few if any have celebrated this mystery more eloquently than Thomas Traherne (1637-1674), the Anglican mystical and spiritual writer quoted last week. He exclaims,

"Suppose, O my Soul, there were no creature made at all, and that God making Thee alone offered to make Thee what Thou wouldst: What couldst Thou desire; or what wouldst Thou wish, or crave to be? Since GOD is the most Glorious of all Beings, and the most blessed, couldst thou wish any more than to be His IMAGE! O my soul, He hath made thee His Image. Sing, O ye Angels, and laud His name, ye Cherubims: Let all the Kingdoms of the Earth be glad, and let all the Host of Heaven rejoice for He hath made His Image, the likeness of Himself, His own similitude. What creature, what being, what thing more glorious could there be!" (Centuries I, 67).

(The Rev. Canon) H. BOONE PORTER senior editor