The Image of God Gospel
Humans are uniquely created as the image of God, designed to reflect His character, embody His presence, and fulfill His purposes in the world. While sin has distorted humanity’s ability to fully live out this role, the gospel reveals that restoration is possible through Christ, the perfect image of God. By the power of the Holy Spirit, individuals can overcome their weaknesses, experience the transformative fruits of the Spirit, and embrace their calling to bring God's goodness into the world, finding true identity and fulfillment in alignment with His design.
Transcript:
Thank you, Dan, and thank you, worship team. What a beautiful time of worship this morning. I see you all moved seats—this wasn’t how it was set up before. Drew, it’s probably a little hot on the mic. All right.
Bear with me today. I’m not all here this morning. Okay, let’s dive in.
The gospel is bigger than you think. We’ve got two messages left in this series. This week, we’re wrapping up the final effect of the gospel, and next week is the culmination of everything we’ve been discussing.
We’ve been saying the gospel is bigger than you think. And at some point, that might make you wonder, How can we share the gospel if it’s all of this? If it’s not just “Jesus died for your sins,” but so much more, how do I communicate that? Next week, we’ll address the simplicity of the gospel and show how you can take everything you’ve learned over these past weeks and put it into practice. By then, it will have been nine weeks of learning and reflection. Next week really ties it all together, so don’t miss it.
Today, we’re focusing on the image of God as gospel. Before we dive into that, though, I want to share something with you.
Years ago, when I was in seminary, I attended a couple of traditional semesters on campus. I carried around a big, heavy backpack full of books. In my church office—I was a youth pastor at the time—I had two floor-to-ceiling bookcases packed with books. I also had two smaller bookcases on my desk, filled with the books I used all the time for study. Books were a tremendous resource for me. I’m not sure if you knew this, but books are a really helpful source of knowledge.
Eventually, I transferred to an online seminary that required me to use Logos Bible Software and purchase my textbooks digitally. It was challenging to study using both digital and physical books, so I sold my entire physical library and transitioned to digital. Coincidentally, we were also moving into a school bus at the time—but that’s a story for another day if you don’t know it.
I’ll admit, I missed physical books. I had a commentary series printed in 1893, still in great condition. Opening those books felt like stepping into an old library. Sitting in my office, in the corner of a Sunday school room, surrounded by stacks of open books for comparative study, was an experience I loved.
Even though I exclusively read digitally now, I’ve realized I’m not alone in loving books. According to research, 75% of adults in the U.S. read a book in some format last year. If you’re in the 25% who didn’t, you’re actually in the minority.
Of those readers, 32% said they only read print books—they’re committed to the physical experience of reading. Another 33% said they’re flexible and read whichever format is convenient. Only 9%—my group—said they exclusively read e-books. I’d like to be in the “print-only” group again, but this is where life has brought me for now. It’s fascinating that even though 75% of adults are reading, most prefer print books over digital.
Interestingly, 68% of young readers—teens and young adults—also prefer print books. This is surprising because we often think of younger generations as “digital natives,” practically born with a cell phone in hand. It’s almost like they come equipped with a special pocket for it. But despite their digital upbringing, most young people still prefer the feel of a physical book.
In fact, I’m something of an anomaly up here with my iPad. They’d probably ask, “Why didn’t you bring a real Bible, Anthony?” That’s how many young people think.
Another interesting statistic: the average price gap between e-books and hardcovers has increased by 75% in favor of e-books. This means e-books are getting cheaper, while print books are becoming more expensive. The reason? Supply and demand. Most people don’t want to read digital books—they want print books. Publishers are lowering e-book prices to sell more, while print books are becoming costlier because that’s where demand lies.
Consider this: print books outsell e-books 4 to 1. For every e-book sold, four print books are sold. As part of the minority who primarily reads digitally, I can assure you the content is identical. Whether you buy a print book or an e-book, the knowledge inside is the same. The words are in the same order. But people still overwhelmingly prefer print books.
Why? It’s tactile. It’s something you can hold in your hands. It’s not just an abstract file on your phone. A print book feels real. You can place it on a shelf, flip through its pages, and even smell the paper. There’s a sense of accomplishment in physically turning pages. Research shows that turning a page offers psychological satisfaction. Scrolling on a screen doesn’t give you the same sense of progress. You don’t look at your phone and think, Wow, I’m two-thirds through this book! But with a print book, you do.
This love for the tangible isn’t new. People have always valued what they can see, touch, and hold. I think this connects to why the ancient pagan nations created physical statues of their gods—what we call idols or images. For them, it was important to have something physical to represent their gods. They didn’t believe their gods lived in the statues, but these images helped them conceptualize the presence of their gods in the physical world.
You might think, Well, Christianity—or Judaism—was far more sophisticated because they didn’t have idols or images. The Jews, in fact, were commanded not to make idols, not to bow down to anything physical.
The Israelites were commanded not to create images of God, and as Christians, we often think it’s because our faith is more sophisticated. We understand that God is transcendent, that He is in the heavens, so why would He want an image here with us? But here’s something that might surprise you: while we are not to make images of God, God actually created images of Himself.
Did you know this? Let’s talk about the image of God. What is it? What is it for?
We’ll start in Genesis 1:26–28. It says:
"Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness. They will rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the livestock, the whole earth, and the creatures that crawl on the earth.’ So God created man in His own image; He created him in the image of God; He created them male and female. God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. Rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and every creature that crawls on the earth.’"
Notice something here. The passage begins with, Let Us make man in Our image, and you might think it’s singular—God creating Adam. But then there’s a shift to the plural: They will rule the fish of the sea. We’re told that God created them male and female. Then it goes even further: Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. This shows us that it’s not just Adam who was created as God’s image, but all humans were designed to bear God’s image.
From the Genesis design, all humans were created in God’s image and likeness. But whether a person reflects or "images" God depends, to some degree, on the individual. You might look around and think, I don’t see many people who look godly.
Let’s unpack that word, godliness. It means God-likeness. It’s not just about someone living a moral or sinless life—it’s about someone who is like God. When we say someone is godly, we’re describing a person who reflects God’s character and likeness. But if most people aren’t living like that, how can everyone be an imager of God?
Think about this like a movie trope: the prince who doesn’t want to be king. This theme shows up in literature, movies, and especially in TV, like anime. In older stories, the prince is the oldest son of the king and knows he’s supposed to inherit the kingdom. But he doesn’t want to be king, so he runs away. Over time, though, he realizes he can’t truly fulfill his purpose unless he returns and takes his place as king.
In modern stories, however, the prince runs away, discovers his "true self" somewhere out in the world, and never returns to the kingdom. Instead of fulfilling his role, he’s celebrated for becoming someone new.
In both versions of the “prince who doesn’t want to be king” trope, the prince goes off to live his own life, to do his own thing, and to be his own person. He doesn’t want to reflect the image of the king anymore, so he sets out to forge his own identity, to reflect the world, or to live in rebellion as a prodigal son.
But here’s what I want you to understand: the prince is not the prince because he chose to be. He is the prince because he is the physical offspring of the king. His status doesn’t change when he stops living as a prince. He remains a prince. That’s why, in the older stories, the prince can return home and become king—because of who he is, not because of what he has done.
This distinction helps us understand what it means to be an imager of God. You are created as an imager of God by design. That is your office—it’s part of what you are as a human being. However, whether or not you live out that design—whether or not you practice imaging God—is up to you.
God created humanity as His imagers. That fact doesn’t change. It’s woven into how you were made. But God also created humankind to image Him in practice—to reflect His character and likeness through what we do. The question then becomes: Are you doing it? Are you imaging, reflecting, displaying, or portraying God?
Now, let’s return to Genesis 1:26–28. If you look at the text closely, you’ll notice a parallel structure where the author—likely Moses—alternates between the concept of humans as imagers and the Dominion Mandate. The Dominion Mandate is the command given to humanity to rule over the garden, multiply, and spread across the globe.
The text goes back and forth:
Humans are created in God’s image.
Humans are commanded to have dominion and spread the paradise of God across the earth.
Male and female are both created as imagers of God.
The command is reiterated: multiply, fill the earth, subdue it, and rule over it.
The point is this: the image of God in you is necessary for you to fulfill what God has called humanity to do. The only way to carry out God’s design for humankind is by living as His image-bearer.
But as we know, it didn’t work out. Adam and Eve didn’t image God. They chose to defy not just the command not to eat from the tree but also their role as God’s imagers. This failure made it impossible for them to fulfill the mandate.
Let’s look at Genesis 3:5. The serpent says to Eve:
"For God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
Now, I want to offer an alternate translation:
"For God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like the gods, knowing good and evil."
Both translations are equally accurate, and I’ll explain why.
In modern Christian circles, we often assume that whenever the Bible uses the word “God” with a capital G, it means Yahweh, the Lord God Almighty. However, the Hebrew word used here, elohim, has a broad range of meanings. It can refer to God Himself, but it can also refer to other spiritual beings, such as angels or even false gods. When the authors of Scripture want to make it clear that they’re referring specifically to Yahweh, they often use His personal name.
Or Adonai Yahweh, which means “the Lord Yahweh.” In your Bible, this is often translated as Lord God to make it clear exactly which God or spirit is being referenced. The word Elohim in Hebrew has both a broad and specific meaning. It can mean God, very God, and when Bible translators believe this is the case, they’ll capitalize it as God with a big G.
But the same word, Elohim, is also used in the Old Testament to refer to other types of spirits. For example, it’s used for the “gods of the nations,” which are lowercase g gods. When you read that, you intuitively know these aren’t gods in the same sense as Yahweh. These are not God Almighty, the Creator of all things. Instead, they’re fallen spirits—beings who might be ruling over the nations or acting in rebellion against God.
Elohim can also refer more generally to spirits, including human spirits after death. So, the word has a broad meaning (any kind of spiritual being) and a specific meaning (Yahweh, the one true God).
Why is this important?
In Genesis 1, when God says, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness,” the use of Our and Us gives a sense that others are present. You might wonder, Who is God talking to?
For example, why is the serpent in the garden, speaking to Adam and Eve? And who do we believe the serpent is? Satan. He is a spirit, a deceiver, there to test Adam and Eve to see if they would obey God. This implies that spirits—Elohim in the broader sense—were present in the garden.
In Genesis 3:22, after the Fall, God says,
“The Lord God said, ‘Since man has become like one of Us, knowing good and evil…’”
Who is Yahweh talking to? The text specifically says Adonai Yahweh, making it clear that this is the Lord God Almighty speaking. But the Us suggests a conversation with others.
Some have suggested this refers to the Trinity—a conversation between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. For a long time, I thought this must be the case. It fits with New Testament theology. However, the more I’ve studied, the more I’ve realized that the early church and the Hebrew culture didn’t have a category for this interpretation.
In the context of Genesis, it seems more natural to understand Yahweh as speaking to other divine beings—Elohim in the broad sense—about what was happening in creation. This explanation aligns with the cultural and theological framework of the time.
So, when Genesis speaks of likeness, it may not only be referring to likeness to God but also to a likeness to the spiritual realm.
This will become more significant as we go further, but I believe it means three specific things. Let me outline them briefly, and then we’ll unpack them in more detail.
When Adam and Eve were created in the image of God and in the likeness of the spirits, it means:
Representation – They were made to represent God’s rule and presence in the physical world.
Reflection – They were created to reflect God’s character and attributes.
Relationship – They were made for communion with both God and the spiritual realm.
We’ll break these down further, but these three ideas—representation, reflection, and relationship—are at the heart of what it means to bear the image of God.
To be created in the image of God and the likeness of the spirits meant three things: they were spiritual, they were eternal, and they were knowing. This knowledge included the ability to discern good and evil, a capacity they were meant to develop.
You’ve heard me say this before: the tree of the knowledge of good and evil wasn’t a don’t eat from that tree ever command—it was a don’t eat from that tree yet command. Adam and Eve were meant to mature in their identity and role in the garden, and as they did, they would eventually eat from that tree.
We know this because Genesis is not the last place the tree of the knowledge of good and evil appears in the Bible. Other biblical and extra-biblical texts don’t describe it as an inherently evil thing. The Holy Spirit, for example, convicts us of sin and helps us discern between good and evil (John 16:8). So, the knowledge of good and evil isn’t bad in itself. It was bad yet—it wasn’t the right time for Adam and Eve. That’s why it was forbidden.
To be like the spirits meant to be spiritual, eternal, and knowledgeable.
Now, we can read about Adam and Eve and think, Well, they were created in perfection. They were spiritual and physical beings, created in God’s image. They were like God. But what about today? Do people still image God? Are all humans still imagers of God?
Here’s where it gets interesting. There’s an irony in what happened with Adam. When he became like God, knowing good and evil, he ceased to be like God in righteousness. In Adam and Eve’s desire to know what God knows about good and evil, they had to experience unrighteousness to gain that knowledge.
Think about that for a moment. Adam, the first man, disobeyed God, and in doing so, he stopped reflecting God’s image. Imagine if we could watch this moment on film. We’d see Adam and Eve sin, and in that act, they would no longer look like God. They were still imagers of God by design, but in practice, they failed to reflect His character.
This reality still applies today. Even though all humans are created as imagers of God, many fail to reflect Him in their lives.
Now, let’s consider what this means practically. I think there’s a visible difference between someone who is walking in righteousness and someone who is struggling with sin. Sin affects people outwardly and inwardly. Some sins are flagrant and obvious, while others are quiet and hidden.
In both cases, you can often tell when someone is struggling. Personally, I’ve noticed that when I’m talking with someone and asking questions about their life, I can sense whether they’re dealing with secret sin or just general life troubles.
And I bet if you reflect deeply and ask personal questions of your friends and family, you can tell the difference as well. Some people are clearly imagers of God—that’s what the Scriptures say—but you see them living in ways that don’t reflect Him at all. There’s a clear distinction between holding the office of God’s image-bearer and actually practicing it.
Let’s revisit the rebellious prince trope. The prince remains a prince, even while he’s running away. This is why it’s essential to affirm that all people are imagers of God, even when they fail to image Him. Why? Because God doesn’t give up on humanity.
The story of the Bible isn’t about a series of failed plans where God keeps starting over. It’s not, “God had a plan with Adam and Eve, but that failed, so He came up with Abraham, and when that didn’t work, He tried Israel, and then they failed, so now it’s all up to Jesus, and let’s hope He doesn’t fail.” That’s a disjointed and flawed way to read the Bible.
Instead, the Bible is one unified story that leads to Jesus. As the Bible Project puts it, it’s one cohesive narrative. God’s purpose from the beginning was for humanity to image Him. Even though we fail, God has a plan to restore us so that we can rightfully reflect His image again. It’s not about walking away from our identity as imagers of God or becoming content with reflecting the world.
God’s story is about redemption. It’s like those older tales where the rebellious prince comes home, is restored to his family, and eventually becomes king. That’s God’s goal—to bring us back, to restore us, so that we can live as His imagers once more.
Think of it this way: most of you know I’m a guitarist. Probably half of you have seen me play, and the rest of you haven’t. There’s a reason for that. Even though I can still jam with musicians or play decently whenever I pick up a guitar, here’s the truth—I probably only touch a guitar for about 15 minutes a month. Playing isn’t a major part of my life right now.
But no one, including myself, would say I’m not a guitarist. I’m still a guitarist, even if I’m not actively practicing the craft.
Now think about that in terms of being an imager of God. You are an imager of God, even if you aren’t actively practicing it. But if you’re not living in a way that reflects Him, you might be a poor or confusing image. If you claim, “I’m the image of God,” or, “I’m a Christian who follows Jesus,” but your actions say otherwise, that’s going to create confusion.
However, if you hold onto the hope that you’re still a follower of Jesus, even when you’re not following Him perfectly, then you should also agree that you can be an imager of God, even if you don’t always look like it.
But let’s be clear: we don’t want to leave it there. We don’t want to stay in that place.
We want to get better. We want to image God, and we’ll talk more about what that looks like. But there’s something else to address about the idea of being an imager of God. Some people say, Well, I’m an imager of God, so it doesn’t really matter what I do. I can just celebrate that because I’m an imager of God.
This mindset is related to another idea I’ve heard more often: All people are children of God. By this, people often mean, No matter what I do, God accepts me. Occasionally, I also hear people apply this universalistic thinking to the image of God, as if saying, Everyone is an imager of God, so at the end of the day, everyone is fine.
But that’s not true. Let’s look at Galatians 3:28, where Paul writes:
“There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; since you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
Here, Paul acknowledges that all people are imagers of God, but he also recognizes the reality of differences in status, ethnicity, and social standing. For example, Paul mentions Jew and Greek. In his context, “Greek” is a catch-all term for anyone who wasn’t Jewish. Galatia was a world where you were either Jewish or Greek, so Paul addresses that division directly.
He’s saying that within the kingdom of God, a Jewish Christian doesn’t get to claim superiority over a Gentile Christian. They don’t get to say, I’m a better Christian because I’m Jewish. No one’s ethnicity grants them greater status in the kingdom of God.
This has implications for us today. In our society, we see diversity in ethnicity—blacks, whites, Hispanics, and people of mixed backgrounds, along with others from around the world. It’s beautiful. When we gather to worship, we can confidently say, There is no Jew or Greek here. We are all one in Christ Jesus.
Paul also mentions slave and free. While slavery isn’t acceptable in our world today, Paul’s point was more socioeconomic. In his context, slavery was common, and people could be at the highest levels of wealth and power or at the lowest level, as indentured servants. Paul is saying that regardless of your socioeconomic status, when we come to the Lord’s table, we are all the same. Whether you were a wealthy landowner or someone who couldn’t even support your family without servitude, you were equal in Christ.
Finally, Paul mentions male and female. In the biblical world, men held far more power and privilege than women. Even in Greek culture, where women could have some influence, men were generally more educated, more respected, and more likely to hold positions of authority.
Paul is saying that even if a man had significant social power—perhaps even as Caesar—when he came to faith in Christ, he could sit at the table with a slave and celebrate their unity in the same salvation.
What Paul is saying in Galatians is that there’s a universal human dignity tied to being created in the image of God. This dignity transcends everything—Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.
But here’s the problem: while the image of God remains after the Fall in Genesis 3, humanity’s ability to reflect or image God has been fundamentally affected. This is why we see a contrast: everyone holds the office of imager, but only some people, and only to some degree, actually live out that role.
How does this work?
Remember that the office of being an imager of God is intrinsically tied to the Dominion Mandate—the call to grow the paradise of God across the world. If that’s our purpose, then we must recognize two barriers that the Fall introduced into the world.
First, the Fall brought sin, which corrupts humanity’s ability to image God. This is why, despite all our progress and development, the world still struggles with ancient, unresolved issues like war, slavery, poverty, and hunger. Why haven’t we solved these problems yet?
The root problem is that too many people refuse to image God. And for every person who refuses to image God, millions of others—who would love to—are left unable to, often because of systemic barriers caused by sin.
Take, for example, secular humanitarianism. There are people who genuinely want to improve the world, but when it comes down to personal sacrifice—like giving up half their sandwich to feed someone else—they often choose self-preservation. The thought might be, I’d love to help if I have extra next time, but the fundamental issue of the human heart is selfishness.
This reveals a sinful nature—a deep-seated tendency to prioritize ourselves even when others are in need. But beyond sin, there’s also another issue: human finitude.
Even if you wanted to feed every hungry person, you couldn’t. We are finite creatures. We don’t have unlimited resources, strength, or time. This lack of eternality is part of what hinders our ability to fully carry out the Dominion Mandate.
Now, there are two theories about what happened in the Fall and how it relates to human finitude.
The first theory suggests that Adam and Eve were never meant to live forever. According to this view, their story was about whether humanity could live obediently in God’s paradise during their finite existence. Afterward, they would die and face judgment like anyone else.
While you could argue this biblically, I think it’s destructive to the overarching story of the Bible.
The second theory—which I find more compelling—is that Adam and Eve were created as eternal beings. They were made with the capacity to live forever, reflecting God’s eternal nature. This ties back to the three aspects of being imagers: spiritual, eternal, and knowledgeable.
Adam and Eve were created with knowledge, eternality, and spirituality. God breathed His life into Adam, giving him a living spirit. Though Adam was a physical man, he was made to be spiritual. He was designed, not to know everything immediately, but to grow in knowledge—to know how to please God and live in righteousness.
That’s the knowledge component. But Adam was also designed to be eternal.
Have you ever wondered why, when angels are judged in the Scriptures, they are chained in gloomy darkness rather than destroyed? They aren’t wiped out or subjected to eternal punishment right away. Instead, they’re bound. That’s because spiritual beings are eternal—they don’t die naturally like humans do. To end their existence, they would have to be uncreated.
This reflects the beauty of how Adam and Eve were originally created. They were fully physical humans, but they were also fully spiritual in their eternality, knowledge, and spirituality. But the Fall compromised this.
After the Fall, they lost their eternality. The curse of eating from the tree was, “You will surely die.” This didn’t mean the fruit was poisonous and they would keel over immediately. Instead, their finitude was introduced. Their life became finite. The clock started ticking, and their death became a certainty, marked on the calendar of God. Life became fleeting.
The promise of death meant that Adam’s ability to carry out the Dominion Mandate—to spread the paradise of God across the earth—was now limited by time. His work had to be passed on to his descendants.
Yet, even in this, humankind has continued to carry out aspects of the Dominion Mandate. We have multiplied and filled the earth. We have developed civilizations across the globe. But here’s the problem: the civilizations we’ve built are not the paradise of God, are they?
Why?
The first reason is our finitude—our lack of eternality. The second reason is our weakness.
Life outside the garden is hard. This weakness, brought about by sin, makes it impossible for us to build a righteous civilization, even if we wanted to. Let me give you an example.
Amazon once thought they could create a utopia. They built a small town for their warehouse workers—a place to live, work, and flourish. It was supposed to be a micro-paradise. But what did it become? Homes for heroin addicts. It became a place of disgrace and immorality. Why?
Because apart from God, we cannot build anything in perfection. The world itself is evidence of this. While we build and develop, we build as sinners. We build for the wrong purposes—not for the glory of God, but for the glory of man. Not for the good of humankind, but for the good of individuals.
And it’s not working. We are too weak to do what actually needs to be done.
Remember, Adam was removed from the garden. Inside the garden, the work was easy. The ground was fertile, rivers flowed freely, and there were no weeds or thorns to contend with. Have you ever had to weed a garden bed?
You know, I’ve got thistles in my backyard right now—huge ones. They’ve got to go, but I’m a little too weak to deal with them at the moment. That’s just where I’m at. And that’s where Adam was after the Fall. He’s outside the garden, looking at the soil and thinking, What is this? There are rocks in the ground! He’s probably saying, Eve, bring me a rake! And she’s like, What’s a rake? So, he has to invent a rake.
The work outside the garden was hard. Adam and Eve were sent out of the garden to bring order to chaos, but humanity can’t do it on its own. We’re not capable of accomplishing God’s purpose without His help.
What was lost in the Fall of Adam has to be regained in order for humanity to carry out its purpose. And this brings us to Jesus.
You’ve probably noticed that every week, we start in the Old Testament and work our way to the New Testament. That’s because, as the Bible Project says, the Bible is one unified story that leads to Jesus.
So, let’s see how this story culminates in Jesus, the perfect image of God.
Conformed to God’s Image
How are we conformed to God’s image? To answer that, I want to clarify two terms: conformity and transformity—or, conform and transform.
Sometimes when we study Greek or Hebrew, we note that the words can have broad, flexible meanings. Other times, they are precise—especially in Greek and Latin, where the language allows for great specificity. These two words have distinct meanings we need to understand.
Transform means to change into something completely different. It often carries the nuance of becoming the opposite of what you were. For example, something evil can be transformed into something good. Transformers, like the robots, change from one form (robots) into a completely different form (cars).
Conform, on the other hand, means with form. The word “con” means with, and “form” simply means shape or structure. To conform is to take on the shape of something else, like pouring Jell-O into a mold. The Jell-O doesn’t stop being Jell-O, but it takes the shape of the mold.
Now, think about this in the context of being the image of God. You are already the image of God. If Christ is the perfect image of God, then you’re not being transformed into something completely different. You can’t be transformed from the image of God to the image of God—that doesn’t make sense.
Instead, you are being conformed to the image of God. You’re being shaped into Christlikeness.
Let’s go back to the Jell-O mold analogy. If I pour Jell-O onto a plate, it’s still Jell-O. But if I want to present it nicely, I use a mold. The mold gives it a new shape, but it’s still Jell-O. The same is true with pottery. A potter might create one beautiful pot, make a mold of it, and then cast multiple identical pieces. Each one conforms to the shape of the mold.
When we talk about conforming, we’re talking about being shaped into the original—what God intended. Look at 1 Corinthians 15:49:
“Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we will also bear the image of the man of heaven.”
You were created in the image of God, but like Adam—the man of dust—you have borne the image of the world. Adam betrayed the image of God and began to reflect human selfishness and the brokenness of the world around him. He started to look like everything that is not God.
We’ve all shared in this. It’s what we often call the sinful nature. Humanity was created to bear the image of God but often fails to reflect Him.
But Paul says, “We will also bear the image of the man of heaven.” Who is the man of heaven? (Sunday school answer: Jesus.)
Paul is talking about this again in Romans 8:29:
“For those He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son.”
Here’s that word again: conformed. Humanity, as the image of God, is like Jell-O on a plate. We don’t look like what we’re supposed to. We’ve been cast in the wrong mold—shaped by sin and the brokenness of the world. The mold we’ve been using isn’t working.
But God’s plan is to reshape us into the mold of the man of heaven, Jesus.
This process is called theosis. Now, let me explain that term.
Theosis is a technical theological term that means “to become godlike.” However, it’s important to clarify what this does and doesn’t mean.
Some Christian cults misuse the term theosis to suggest that humans can become God in the same sense that Yahweh is God—that you could have your own universe or become divine in the way God is divine. Frankly, that’s not just heresy; it’s science fiction. It’s completely outside the bounds of biblical theology.
That’s not what we mean by theosis. In Christian theology, theosis refers to humanity being restored to the image of God as intended—to reflect His character, His holiness, and His righteousness. It’s about addressing our human finitude and becoming godlike in the sense of reflecting His nature.
Becoming like the spirits or becoming like the gods—that’s what we’re talking about when we say theosis. It means becoming godlike or Christlike. As Christians, we’re comfortable with terms like Christlike, but when I say godlike, I don’t simply mean stopping sin. When I say godlike, I mean that you will become a spiritual being, even while remaining fully human.
Let me explain this from another angle. In Christian theology, we have a doctrine called the hypostatic union. This doctrine belongs to orthodox, historic theology and teaches that when God sent Jesus into the world, Jesus shares the same essence as the Father. He is God, very God, and yet He took on the nature of humankind.
This doesn’t mean Jesus gave up His divinity or became half-God and half-human. He remained fully God while becoming fully human. This is why the virgin birth and the incarnation are so significant. Jesus holds both natures—divine and human—in perfect union.
This belief is central to orthodox Christianity. If someone denies that Jesus is 100% God or 100% man, they’re stepping outside the boundaries of orthodox faith. Historically, the church has declared such beliefs heresy because they undermine the very foundation of the gospel.
Here’s why this matters: the goal of the Christian faith mirrors this concept of hypostatic union, but in reverse.
The incarnation was God becoming man while retaining His divinity. Theosis is about man becoming godlike while retaining humanity.
The goal of being an imager of God is that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, you would become like God—not by abandoning your humanity but by being fully human and fully godlike. It’s the opposite of the hypostatic union in Jesus, but the principle is the same.
If orthodox theology teaches that God became man without ceasing to be God, then theosis teaches that humans can become godlike without ceasing to be human.
I know this is a big concept, so feel free to ask me questions later if it’s unclear. It’s important, though, because this idea of theosis is deeply rooted in Scripture.
Look at 1 John 3:2:
“Dear friends, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him as He is.”
That phrase we will be like Him is significant. Throughout Scripture, words like image and likeness are often paired together. What John is saying is that it’s hard for us to fully grasp what it means to be Christlike until we are glorified, as Christ was glorified, and experience godliness in its perfection for eternity.
Until that time, we can’t fully comprehend it. But take comfort and be encouraged by this goal: We will be like Him.
We will be like Him. And we know that this transformation involves both a physical and a spiritual change. Philippians 3:21 says:
“He will transform the body of our humble condition into the likeness of His glorious body, by the power that enables Him to subject everything to Himself.”
What Paul is describing here is the perfect and eternal union of Christ’s human and divine natures. He says, you will receive that as well. If Jesus is 100% God and 100% man, then that is what you will also be—fully human yet glorified, reflecting the perfect image of God.
Now, don’t call me a heretic! I’m not saying you’ll be God like Yahweh is God. I’m not saying you get your own planet to rule over. What I am saying is that, just like the spiritual beings in the garden and the angels in heaven who perfectly honor God in their spiritual, eternal nature, you will also reflect God perfectly without giving up your humanity.
To quote 1 John 3:2 again:
“What we will be has not yet been revealed.”
In other words, we don’t fully know what that will look like. We can’t fully grasp it, but that’s the promise.
Why doesn’t God spell it out clearly? Maybe it’s because the reality is so magnificent, so glorious, that human language can’t contain it, and our finite minds can’t fully comprehend it. What we’re given is a sense of this eternal reward—this perfect likeness we will one day share.
Weakness and the Holy Spirit
Until then, we still deal with our weaknesses. We’re not just finite; we’re weakened by sin and the brokenness of the world. Carrying out God’s purposes in a fallen world is hard.
But here’s the good news: the Holy Spirit is the answer to this problem in the here and now.
You don’t have to wait for eternity to begin imaging God. As a follower of Jesus, the Holy Spirit empowers you to turn away from reflecting the world and to reflect God more and more.
Think about weakness for a moment. Weakness is the inability to do what God has called you to do. You might say, I’d love to do what God asks of me, but I don’t know how. I don’t have the strength.
That’s where the Holy Spirit comes in. He pours out His power and gifting to enable you to fulfill God’s purposes.
While I can’t unpack a full theology of spiritual gifts right now, note this: 1 Corinthians 12 provides a framework for understanding how the Holy Spirit equips believers. One key takeaway is that God empowers every follower of Jesus to carry out His work within the local body—the church.
If you’re a follower of Jesus and a member of this church—and hopefully those two go hand in hand—then God intends for your gifts to be part of His purposes here.
You might think, I’m not a gifted preacher, but ask yourself, Am I gifted in something else? We have all kinds of gifts among our leadership and members. At our last member meeting, we talked about this: if you think you have a leadership gifting, let me know! You’re welcome to join our leadership meetings and explore how God wants to use your gifts.
Let’s make this happen. Let’s get every gift working in the church. Maybe your gifting isn’t leadership, but you have another gift—then come talk to us. Let’s get you serving according to your gifting within the church.
And if you’re thinking, I don’t know what my gifting is, that’s okay. Let’s have a conversation and figure it out. God has a purpose for you. The Dominion Mandate from the garden is now being carried out through the church. What the church does should have a tangible impact on the culture around us.
That’s why we’ve adopted the 93552 area code as our mission field. We’re here now, but we’re also working toward establishing a permanent presence of Christ in this community. We want a building, a facility, and a church that will minister the gospel of Jesus Christ—not just for our lifetime but for as long as the world lasts, until Christ returns.
Why? Because this is about transformation. Transformation of individual lives, yes, but also transformation of the culture.
Did you know that crime rates in any local area are directly tied to the number of churches preaching orthodox theology? And by orthodox, I mean churches with right thinking and biblical theology. The more of these churches there are in a community, the lower the crime rate.
Why is that?
Because of the presence of God’s imagers—people who are living out their Christlikeness, reflecting God’s character. This is one way the Holy Spirit works through our weakness.
But here’s another way: have you noticed that we live in a world full of frustration, anxiety, and depression? It’s become so normalized that people even boast about it. It’s like a competition.
Someone says, Oh, you won’t believe how frustrating my boss is. And someone else replies, That’s nothing, let me tell you about my day. People treat it like a badge of honor—boasting about how bad their depression or anxiety is, or how many medications they’re on.
It’s even reflected in trends. Talena was telling me about something called “bed rotting.” Have you heard of this? It’s this idea of lying in bed for 24 to 48 hours, watching Netflix, eating Cheetos, and doing nothing. And it’s being promoted as self-care.
Let me tell you, that’s not self-care—that’s clinical depression. Sure, it’s not new, but now it has a trendy name.
This is what I’m talking about. People are glorifying things that don’t bring real healing or satisfaction.
But look at Galatians 5. Paul lists the fruits of the Spirit, and none of them have anything to do with reveling in your frustration, anxiety, or depression. In fact, the fruits of the Spirit are the exact opposite.
The fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—are about living in a way that stands apart from the brokenness of the world. They enable you to live with peace and joy, even in the midst of a frustrating, anxious, and depressing world.
The Holy Spirit comes into your life as a follower of Jesus not so you can revel in the things the world celebrates, but so you can have real, lasting satisfaction in your relationship with Him.
That’s the fruit of the Holy Spirit. And what it means is this: the weakness Adam experienced when he was kicked out of the garden—when he realized how hard life had become and wanted to give up—is not how you have to live.
By the power of the Holy Spirit in you, you are not called to rock rot—to curl up in despair like Adam might have felt. If you find yourself living like that, it’s time to start having some honest conversations with the Holy Spirit.
I’ll be real with you: this is a struggle of mine. The Holy Spirit and I talk about this a lot. I desperately want to experience not just the gifts of the Holy Spirit but the fullness of the fruits of the Spirit. And while I experience many of them regularly, I’ll admit—I want them all. I want them in their fullness.
Because when I’m walking in the fruits of the Spirit, empowered by His gifts, I feel like I’m getting a glimpse of eternity. That’s what I imagine eternity will be: walking fully in His presence, experiencing the joy, peace, and love that the Spirit brings.
The Gospel and the Image of God
When we talk about the gospel of the image of God, here’s what we’re saying: humans are created as imagers of God, but under sin, our nature is not to walk in that image. We don’t naturally reflect God’s character.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is that even though you want things to be right, even though you want everything fixed, you can’t do it on your own. But Christ can.
If Jesus is King and you are a citizen of His kingdom, He is pouring out His power upon you. By His Holy Spirit, He is overcoming your weakness and your finitude. In every way you experience death, He is giving you life. And He is calling you back into the Dominion Mandate given to Adam: to participate in the renewal of the world and make it a paradise.
While this world won’t fully become a paradise until Christ returns, you don’t have to wait for the end to experience a piece of it. You can have that now.
But too many people live in a way that denies this. They say, I know I’m made in the image of God, but I look nothing like Him, and they accept that as their reality. Worse, they revel in it. They say, This is how God made me, so I guess this is as good as it gets.
I’m thinking of people who are struggling with their identity. For some, it’s gender identity. For others, it’s tied to their family, their ethnicity, or other aspects of who they are. These are people who say, This is who I am, even if it’s sinful, and I’m going to celebrate it because it’s how God made me.
Here’s my observation: I never see people in those situations experiencing the fruits of the Holy Spirit. I never see them walking in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, or any of the other fruits. I don’t see them thriving in the Spirit’s gifts either.
And that’s the problem. If you affirm someone in that place and leave them there—if you empower them to stay where they are—you’re leaving them in their suffering. You’re leaving them in their anxiety, depression, and psychological distress. You’re saying, You be you. Enjoy your anxiety, your depression, your suffering.
That’s not what God wants for them, and it’s not what God wants for you.
I’ve just never met someone who is truly happy identifying outside of God’s image. I haven’t. I’ve sat with people from all walks of life, including criminals. I once went to the courthouse with a man to help him turn himself in. Even in his life of crime, he realized it wasn’t fulfilling. He knew it wasn’t the way.
There is no one so hardened that they genuinely celebrate the distress of their life. Deep down, they know something is missing.
This is the evangelistic strength of the gospel’s message about the image of God:
You can’t be who you want to be. You’ll never be content trying to be who you want to be. But you can be who God designed you to be—not by your own strength but by the power of Christ in you.
I hope that encourages you, especially as you think about the people in your life who are struggling. When you point them to the image of God, you can say:
I know you feel weak. I know you’re tired. I know you’re distressed. But did you know that Jesus doesn’t want you to stay that way? He wants you to have the fruits of the Spirit. He wants you to be a person of joy, peace, and patience, full of the Holy Spirit, living out God’s goodness in your life.
This is how you can present the gospel to others and point them to Christ.
Prayer:
Let me pray for you.
Lord, we come before You thankful that You created us in Your image. We are icons of God, reflecting Your nature. You have made us to be like You and to reflect the spiritual world in our eternality, our spirituality, and in the fullness of knowledge You have called us into.
We thank You for this calling, and we pray that You would grow us in it. Day by day, conform us to the image of Christ. Help us look more like Him, feel more like Him, and experience the fruits of the Spirit in the way You’ve gifted them to us.
Lord, we also ask that these truths about the image of God would seep into our hearts and minds, becoming part of our language as we encourage those around us. Help us point others to the wisdom of following Christ, so they can deal with their weakness, their finiteness, and their longing for eternity.
May we encourage others to find their identity, peace, and joy in You. And through this, may many come to know You as Lord and Savior.
We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
