Does What We Write Matter?
By Nicole Henry
Some of you may know that I teach at a classical school. This year I am privileged to be walking through ancient literature and history with both 5th graders and 9th graders, and also have the joy – yes, joy! – of teaching Introductory and Intermediate Latin to a small mixed grade class. One of the semester projects for my 9th graders is a joint literature-history journal where they respond to prompts that I give them that somehow connect to what we’ve talked about in class, or read about, or will read about. For example, we’ve been reading through the lives of the Achaemenid Emperors in Herodotus’ Histories, and so one of the prompts was to summarize, analyze, and respond to Solon’s (one of the Seven Sages of ancient Greece) argument with King Croesus of Lydia about whether or not a man can be judged “great” while still alive, or whether the jury’s out until he’s cold in the ground. It was awesome to read through their responses! I think I may be enjoying the assignment more than they are – what a shock – and I always look forward to settling in for an hour or two to read through them and then respond.
The most recent prompt was about memorization and its importance in the classical curriculum, as well as in life. I haven’t had a chance to read their responses yet, and today, after asking me if I had, a student asked me whether I enjoyed reading them. I didn’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely!” I said, “I look forward to reading them every time! It’s my favorite thing to grade right now.” He looked a little skeptical, and perhaps wanted to question me a bit more, but class started, and it was time to dig into Antigone, the Greek play we’re studying. I’ve been thinking about his question all day, though, turning it over and over in my brain, examining it, thinking about what I would have said if he had followed it up with, “Why?!”
If he asked me now, close to midnight after a long day, and after much thought, I think I know what I would say. “Because you are made in God’s image, so what you think, and what you say, and what you write, matters.”
What does it mean to be an image bearer of the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe? I submit that we cannot even truly comprehend the enormity of the question, let alone the answer, but we can certainly try! The words, of course, come from Genesis 1:26-27, when, after a long week of creative work, God said,
“Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground. So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”
The imago dei. Theologians have been pondering these verses for millennia. “What does it mean that we are made in God’s image?” they have asked. For the sake of time and space, I will attempt to sum up the general thinking behind these words. To be made in God’s image means that we are representatives of Him on this planet. As ancient kings would set up statues of themselves around the area of their rule to remind people who had authority over them, so God granted us authority as His representatives to “rule” or “have dominion” over the earth. We are His people.
Psalm 8:4-6 expands on the ideas behind Genesis 1:26-27. In these verses we find out a little more about this “man” that God is mindful of.
What is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
You have made him a little lower than God
and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet.
What do these verses tell us? Many things! First, God is “mindful” of us and cares about us. That means He pays attention to us, examines us, and may even test us (Job 7:17-19). It means we are the apple of His eye, and He sees us. (Deuteronomy 32:10; Zephaniah 2:8; Psalm 17:8). It means we matter to Him. Second, He made us “a little lower than God.” We are not “little gods” running around, but we are only a small step below Him. This means we hold an honored, important position. We are not celestial angels, and we are not dumb beasts, we are a separate and unique creation that relates more to Him and His majesty and glory than anything else He created. In fact, it is only we who have been “crowned with glory and honor.” No one, and nothing else in the created order can claim this honor. Third, we have been given dominion, or rule, over everything else that He has created. And finally, in some mysterious way, He has put everything under mankind’s feet.
The book of Hebrews takes the message and metaphor to its conclusion, when we discover that it is Christ Himself who is the True Human, the True Lord and Master, and that Psalm 8:4 was ultimately fulfilled in Christ alone. It is Christ who rules the nations, Christ who is crowned with full glory and honor and majesty; and Christ who rules over the works of His Father, and whose feet rest on the footstool of the earth.
But what does all this have to do with a 9th grader’s journal response? Everything, I would argue. It has to do with everything. If that student is an image bearer of the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe, if that student has been crowned with glory and honor and is the apple of the Lord’s eye, how can I not enjoy reading a response that gives me a tiny window into the soul of a fellow image bearer? Is there any greater privilege than to be granted a glimpse into the heart and mind of a fellow representative of God?
Now, let’s be realistic. These journal responses are not “great” in the literary sense. Some of them are barely legible, let alone logical. It’s obvious that some are completed with little thought, rushed through at the last minute, and full of meandering rabbit trails that leave my brain confused and conflicted and wondering why I did this to myself. But there are always gems in the gravel, little snatches of startling beauty, witty (often innocent) wisdom, and cold hard truth that can only come from a teenage heart and mind. That’s where the enjoyment comes in. That’s what I look forward to every time I tuck those journals into my bag, sling the dead weight over my shoulder, and trudge to my minivan after a long day, my own children in tow. I know that very soon I will have the honor and privilege to get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of thirteen unique creations who are stamped with the image of God. What’s not to enjoy?
