The imago dei as the basis for art, intellectualism, and love

As I often do, I sat in a book store recently and previewed some new releases. One such title, which I have only skimmed, was Nancy Pearcey's Saving Leonardo. Although her work seems to be a surface-level reiteration of the late Francis Schaeffer's work, I do plan to buy it and give it a thorough evaluation.

image from www.pearceyreport.com

I read one line in her section on the fine arts that has stuck in my mind like a grain of sand in a an oyster. It has continually come back to mind, adding one layer of thoughts upon another, becoming something of a pearl for me. Essentially, Pearcey states that our ideas and art tend to be better than our worldviews. Her point, I think, is that even atheists produce incredible works of art, because they too are created by God.


In my pondering, it reminded me that we (Christians) can appreciate the ideas, art, and people from other worldviews, because everyone is inescapably created in the image of God (imago dei), even if they don't believe in Him. The imago dei is the key that unlocks this way of thinking. It is the doctrine of imago dei that ought to open up Christian horizons for the appreciation of the arts, intellectualism, and the love of one's neighbor.


The arts

Good art can be appreciated, no matter the artist, because it was formed by a person who was created inescapably in the image of an artistic and expressive God. One's beliefs about his own nature do not change the essence of his nature. Atheists are created in the image of God, too. Therefore, the question is not whether any given person is artistic, but whether they have a rational basis for understanding their intrinsic artfulness.

This is why I can appreciate music, stories, paintings, and other forms of artistic expression even if they are not "Christian". (See my post on "Pumped Up Kicks") In fact, you do not have to be a Christian to be an artist. It is not a Christian thing; it is a human thing. It is a characteristic that we do not share with the animals, a quality that separates beasts from humans.

I absolutely believe that the Christian worldview is superior when explaining the source of human aesthetic sensibilities, but good theology makes a skilled artist not. Believing such things may actually lead to the betrayal of our God-reflecting artfulness, because it forces us to define "good" art as "Christian" art. We trade artistic masterpieces for Christian kitsch. Of course a Christian may be master of the arts, but there is no doctrinal guarantee of such.


Intellect

As goes with art, so it goes with intellect. The God of the Scriptures is intelligent ad infinitum. It is not simply that God is omniscient, but that he is imaginative, creative, willful, self-aware, and thoughtful. As his unique creation, all human beings share this quality to some degree.

There are, no doubt, lots of bad ideas out there. Hitler's Mein Kampf comes to mind. There are dark Greek tragedies that are entirely ignorant of the hope of Christian eschatology. Poe seems to have missed out on the the abundant life that Christ offers. But, there is an intuitive sense of truth that permeates our being and can't be entirely ignored. So, how does this affect the Christian community? We must not isolate ourselves from the non-Christian intellectual world as if it has nothing to offer us. We need to learn to listen, to read, and to engage in the ideas outside of our own community, because those ideas usually contain some hint of truth. Just as humans are inescapably artistic, they also are inescapably intellectual.

Perhaps the truth can be buried under layers of bad philosophy, but, like art, a kernel of truth-centeredness remains within all people created imago dei. Evangelicals must not make the culturally fatal mistake of their fundamentalist forebears and stop interacting with the non-Christian intelligentsia. In his de doctrina Christiana, Augustine wrote, "pagan learning is not entirely made up of false teaching and superstitions ... It contains also some excellent teachings, well suited to be used by truth, and excellent moral values." 


The challenge this presents is raising up our children and our students with the ability to winnow the wheat from the chaff. That is the essence of intellectualism. It is not about the quantity of knowledge; it is about one's ability to sift through it and find truth. Could Christian students read Mein Kampf, Marx's Communist Manifesto, or Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra and evaluate it as a work of writing? Would they then be able to pick out the the inevitable bits of truth that made it past the naturalistic filters of their authors' minds? More importantly, could our pastors and other Christian leaders and teachers do this?

Thankfully, the tide of Christian intellectualism is rising again, having receded since the early 20th century,  when orthodox Christianity was firmly established in the once-hallowed halls of Princeton University. Christians today need to undergird their hearts and minds with Scripture, prayer, and the Church community and then enter the marketplace of ideas on a search-and-rescue mission for lost souls. This task is often described as a "culture war," a phrase unworthy of the Gospel, because it creates an us-against-them mentality. It is not a war against the other, but a rescue of our own.

Loving your "neighbor"

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." (1 Corinthians 13:1, ESV) Intellect minus love equals nothing. However, many have given into the false dichotomy of intellectualism on the one hand and of loving ministry on the other. "You can't have both," they say. This need not be. Ultimately, our drive to appreciate the arts and the intellect is based on a desire to magnify the One whose being they reflect, even if that reflection has been clouded by human sinfulness. Secondarily, Christians must be driven by love of neighbor to engage this world and enter boldly and confidently into the marketplace of ideas. The Apostle Paul spoke with great authority and confidence at the Areopagus, fearing neither the philosophers' taunts nor their unknown gods. (Acts 17:16-32) His knowledge of their poets gave him intellectual leverage. (v. 28) Paul of Tarsus, formerly a Pharisee, was an intellectual par excellence who loved God and neighbor above all. He did this in obedience to Christ.

Jesus said to love your neighbor. "But Jesus, you haven't met my neighbors!" might be the refrain. But consider Jesus' neighbors; they crucified him. The residents of his own hometown of Nazareth threatened to push him off of a cliff. (Luke 4:29) Even his closest disciples abandoned him when he was unjustly arrested and tried. (Matt. 26:56) He literally had no one.

Even the most despicable people are intrinsically good (created imago dei) and, therefore, worthy of care and love. The hardened and vile atheists are inherently deserving of your love. The same goes for the grouchy old racist who sits in the fourth pew at your church. Saved or not, regardless of the layers of hatred that surround him, he's created in the image of God.

The doctrine of the imago dei is not only the cure for anti-intellectualism, but also for self-righteousness.

Our distorted image

The imago dei is not the only doctrine at play here, however. God, in his word, has also explained to us that which we already intuitively know about ourselves--we are sinful. (Romans 3:9-20) Though created in the image of our Father, our resemblance of him has been disfigured. It is like a burn victim whose physical appearance has been partially deformed, robbing her of the physical resemblance to her biological parents. We too have been burned, and it is the job of the Church to seek out our fellow burn victims and draw them closer to the Great Physician who has infinite ability to fix our disfigured appearances and restore the imago dei to its previous glory.