Chaplain’s Column
Last weekend Andrew Luck, the quarterback for the Indianapolis Colts, surprised everyone by announcing his retirement.
When the news got out, he was on the sidelines at their stadium – and was loudly booed by the fans.
As one who proudly has roots in “Midwestern nice,” I was appalled when I heard about such an ugly reaction.
Sadly, it made more sense two days later, when our nation recalled the 400th anniversary of the first slave ship arriving from Africa.
At first glance, it seems preposterous to link these two events. One marks the beginning of one of the most horrific stains on our nation’s moral history, while the other is just a millionaire athlete being verbally mistreated by a mob of football fans.
No one in his right mind would suggest a moral equivalence – and I do not. However, in both instances, people gave into a common impulse: to strip away another’s humanity, and see them only for what they can do for me.
Faith has battled that impulse through all of history. In the Bible, the very first chapter emphasizes humanity as the pinnacle of creation, created in the image of God – both “male and female,” anticipating our propensity to use gender for ranking someone’s worth.
Throughout the whole scripture we are reminded of the dignity and worth of the weak, the alien, the diseased, the oppressed – all those whom we might reduce to something less.
One of the most transformative practices that our faith can teach us, is to willingly see the image of God in others: to measure their worth not in what they do for us, or even in what we like or dislike about their personalities or actions, but in their humanity.
No longer can we look at a ship’s hold and see chattel, property to be bought and sold for the benefit of landowners. We see beloved children of God, parents and children, full of humor and love, hopes and dreams.
No longer can we see a quarterback merely as a dancing bear for our entertainment, to be booed when he is weary of dancing.
No longer can we reduce someone to a function: the server at our restaurant, the bagger at the grocery store, the police officer who pulled me over, the housekeeper in my hotel or workspace, or even the driver who cut me off in traffic.
No longer can we even see a public figure as merely a political friend or foe, or a tool to get what I want.
We have to admit, truly seeing the image of God doesn’t come naturally or easily. It has countless layers, but consider at least this: the person in front of me, if created in the image of the God of the Bible, has a name, a story, and a love.
God’s name suggests not some vague, unseen force, but a Supreme Being who wants to be in relationship. God’s story suggests history, life and events – both described in the Bible and experienced in the everyday – reveal who He is.
God’s love suggests passion and personality, joy and sacrifice, all centered on beloved creation (including us).To see the image of God requires a pause, and a choice.
Sometimes we can learn that stranger’s name; can hear a bit of her story; can glimpse what (or who) excites his love. Sometimes we cannot, because they are a distant image on TV or from history, or because of the obstacles of time, space and culture.
But we can always choose to remember: even if I don’t know it, she has a name; he has a story; she has a love.
With that on my mind, I cannot enslave; I cannot fuel hatred and cruelty; I cannot reduce someone to a function they perform for my benefit; I cannot even boo, when my team is down a quarterback.