Delighting in My Neighbor

A recent visitor to our website sent an email to suggest an area of disagreement. Referring to our description of Community on the Concepts page, he wrote, "Only when human beings are born-again and are walking in the Spirit can it be said that they 'spur delight.'"

I could not disagree more.

All humans are made in the image of God, created to reflect His glory (Genesis 1:26-28; 9:6; James 3:9). We are created "to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." That calling will come to its greatest fruition when we are in the presence of Christ, but it brings meaning and dignity to every human life even now. More than any other part of creation, we have been formed for His glory, created to see and enjoy the display of His glorious attributes (Isa. 43:6-7).
Some theologians define the image of God in terms of capacities. Rationality, free will, creativity, and morality are the usual suspects. But if we manifest God's likeness only through particular abilities, many severely disabled people would have to be regarded as less than human. We cannot go there. A definition of the image of God that excludes some humans cannot be true. Fortunately, it is not a question of what we are, how we behave, or what we can do. We have been created to glorify God uniquely by sharing His affection for Himself. That purpose lends dignity to all humans regardless of their present condition or capacities.

That means that we should expect flashes of God's glory in all of our neighbors. We can celebrate Oprah's spirited generosity without questioning her motives. We can join in the One Campaign without worrying about who else might participate. We can return a smile, share an embrace, maybe even see more in people than they can see in themselves.

Bob

If You Had Known Who You Were

It is difficult to regard as a sighting of delight, but it certainly speaks to humanity. This sign, outside the Nyamata church in Rwanda, reads, "If you had known who you were, and who I was, you would not have killed me."But they did not know, as the mass graves behind the church bear witness.


The sanctuary, which the victims had hoped would be a place of refuge, is now a memorial. Multiply these pictures by 50, and you will have a better sense of its proportion. Its bloodstained altar remains a testimony to what happened here, when humans forgot their humanity.

"A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud wailing, Rachel weeping for her children, and she did not want to be comforted, because they were gone" (Matt. 2:18).

It is good that forgiveness does not require forgetting; otherwise it would not be possible. But forgiveness does call for a different kind of remembering. We remember that we have determined not to seek revenge. We remember a suffering Savior. We remember that those who forgot their humanity are themselves human. We remember that we have promised grace. We remember to breathe deeply the breath of life.

Bob