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In the image of God
What if creation was never merely an act of power, but an expression of necessity? This reflection explores the ancient idea of humanity being created in the image of God—not as a theological conclusion, but as an invitation to contemplate creativity, longing, and self-discovery. If our impulse to create reflects something of the divine, perhaps the search for meaning is woven into the fabric of existence itself.
A short reflection on to be in the image of God
“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”
I many times think about this verse of the Bible and what profound truths it might hold. That to be created at all was of necessity, and in extension not only to become, but to be of that in which it may be no other. Does this mean that what my own reality holds also holds the reality of God, do I in my reality resemble the creative force of my own soul? Are that which I am and experience a imprint of the experience of the universe? Are the stardust which we are a reflection of that which is?
This do go in line with interpretations of authority’s of many esoteric teachings. That we are the cosmos experiencing itself.
But sometimes I do wonder if God in the creation had a choice at all?
I wonder, as like the artist there where no other option.
“The word has to be put on paper” “The paint must reach the canvas”
That Gods force of creation demanded expression. That our creation was inevitable.
Why do I “need” to create? Why do a person “need” to build a house? Why do people “have” to have their views expressed?
To release the pressure, and to the open the valve.
It is as important as eating, intercourse or competition. It has to be. And without it the soul hardens, it freezes, and cracks. Life stops, the light turns dim.
And maybe it is the same for God.
That what became, had to become. As the rain has to fall, and as the seed has to sprout. That an emulation and creation had no other choice than to emerge from the either for Gods heart not to grow cold.
What is, was and will seem many times to be neither something nor nothing. A story, a play, a game. A drawing on paper. But for a play to be written, paper and pen has to be. So what alternative was there than to make something out of nothing. To bind the canvas, to mix the paint, to carve the brush. And to paint as his life dependent on it. Line by line, sketch to form, volume to texture, shade to color. All as important as the other. From the stars the the blades of grass, from the fish in the sea to birds in the sky.
The human never seem to be satisfied, we always seem to have something to do. If we don´t than we make something up. A constant search, a constant belief that what we seek must be somewhere else. If this is in the image of that which is, why would not God struggle with the same.
Maybe God as you and me seek nothing more than to enter the silence and stillness of Self? To know himself just as I want to know myself. What if God just as us struggle to love himself? What if God just as I, never are content, and blames himself for his own creation. What if the source of that which is explores the process of self discovery?
To seek and love all that he is?
