Global Poverty

Justin Thacker

• Publisher: SCM Press
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9780334055150
• eBook ISBN: 9780334055174
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Theology

Christian authors have argued either for a free market solution to global poverty or for a radical reform of global capitalism but the theological underpinnings of such conclusions are noticeable by their absence.Justin Thacker offers a new way forward. He suggests deeply theological answers to questions around the effect of capitalism on global poverty.

PART 1

Creation

1

The image of God and the dignity of humanity

Being created in the image and likeness of God means that the human person cannot become a slave to any economic or political system; the human person cannot become a means to an end; and the human person is not expendable and should not become objectified or a mere thing to be abused, neglected, exploited or exposed to any structure of sin which threatens or diminishes the dignity of the person.1

In his recent work on creation, David Fergusson makes the point that the Bible talks about God as creator in numerous passages outside of Genesis 1—3. As such, ‘Creation is about the nature of God, our own identity as creatures of the earth, and the future of the world as it is re-created.’2 It is not just about how the universe began. This is important because we often treat the doctrine of creation as merely the prelude to the main story of sin and redemption. It is as if creation is nothing more than the backdrop, the scenic architecture in which the narrative of salvation can take place. This is a mistake. And it is a particular mistake when we come to consider the place of humanity in God’s purposes. For one of the most significant aspects of the doctrine of creation is the inherent dignity that is conferred upon humanity through God’s creative acts.

Whenever I am talking to those who dismiss as mere fiction the Genesis accounts of creation, I often draw attention to the alternative ancient Near Eastern (ANE) myths about the origins of humanity. For while the Genesis account may or may not have got its chronology scientifically precise, it does at least present a vision of humanity as that which is to be celebrated. In contrast, many of the other ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies characterize humanity as merely the detritus of the gods. Beginning then with the Enuma Elish, a Babylonian cosmogony, the purpose of the narrative is not to describe creation as such but rather to glorify the god Marduk. Indeed, creation itself is seen as the bloody remnant of a titanic battle between Marduk and Tiamat.3 In this context, humanity is portrayed as being in slavery to the gods:

Let me put blood together, and make bones too.

Let me set up primeval man: Man shall be his name.

Let me create a primeval man.

The work of the gods shall be imposed (on him), and so they shall be at leisure.4

A similar point is made in the Epic of Atrahasis, an Akkadian epic from the same era, where humanity is given to ‘bear the yoke’ and ‘assume the drudgery of the god’. Gordon Wenham describes how in these cosmogonies humanity is merely an ‘afterthought’ of the gods’ creative action, where the main activity is in demonstrating their power and dominion.5

In this context – and the Genesis accounts were almost certainly written in this context – the picture of humanity presented in the opening chapters of the Bible is remarkably different. In the first place, humanity is presented not as an afterthought or by-product of creation but as its purpose. The whole structure of Genesis 1 is designed not so much as a literal chronology but rather as a theological polemic in which, at least according to one author, humanity is presented as the ‘pinnacle of creation’.6

This does not mean that the sole purpose of non-human creation is to serve humanity. As the wisdom literature makes abundantly clear, all of creation exists to bring glory to God (Ps. 19.1; 50.6; 97.6). Nevertheless, part of the way in which non-human creation brings glory to God is precisely by means of enabling humanity to flourish – as it in turn flourishes alongside humanity.7 It is precisely this point that some evangelical climate change sceptics seem to miss. To consider non-human creation as existing only for our benefit is on a par with reducing sex to the benefit of just one partner. Instead, it is in the mutual flourishing of both human and non-human creation that God is glorified as our God-given purposes are realized. So God’s purpose in the created order is for both humanity and the rest of the created world to flourish, not one at the expense of the other, but both in tune with their specific divinely mandated telos.

At the same time, however, it is important to acknowledge that, theologically speaking, we are not the same as the rest of creation. This is not to deny evolution, with which I am happy to concur, nor is it to provide a justification for exploitative domination of non-human creation. However, it is to argue that cognitively, socially, morally, emotionally and most importantly spiritually we are distinct. Notwithstanding the fact that animals do have rights of some form which we need to uphold and protect, very few people really think that the lion which kills the gazelle is guilty of murder. And they think this not just in the legal sense – which is obviously the case – but also morally. It might well be that in the age to come the ‘lion will lie down with the lamb’, but that does not mean our present-day carnivores have committed a moral failing in failing to anticipate that full eschatological reality. This distinction between humanity and the rest of creation is signalled not just by our place in the creation narrative as its culmination on day six, but also because it is only to humans that the divine image is conveyed. ‘So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them’ (Gen. 1.27).8

This is a task that is given only to humanity. While the non-human created order certainly gives praise to God, it does not image God in its role and purpose. The greatest lie of evolutionism (note that I am not referring to evolution) is the belief that we are, in the words of the Bloodhound Gang, ‘nothin’ but mammals’. Nelson puts it well:

Humans have much in common with the rest of creation, but they cannot succumb to being only an animal. It is natural, for example, for male whitetail deer to try to inseminate as many females as they are able. It is natural for male bighorn sheep to beat their male rivals to the point of death . . . Yet Christianity would rightly call such behaviours ‘sins’ when done by humans. While there is and ought to be continuity between the human being and the rest of creation, the overlap of behaviour between humans and nonhuman creatures cannot be total.9

It is for this reason that we should not treat one another as if we were merely animals. Having said that we are created in God’s image, and that this confers not just dignity but also distinction upon humanity, we still need to explore further what this image of God (imago Dei) actually means, for its precise definition remains a topic of debate.

Jewish exegetes have tended to downplay the obvious connection with God, choosing instead to understand the imago Dei either as humanity created sui generis, or as created in the image of the angels (based on the context of Gen. 1.27). In contrast, Christian theologians have had far less difficulty in outlining a correlation between God and the nature of humanity. The question has been what kind of correlation.

While initially the patristic debates often focused on whether a distinction should be drawn between ‘the image of God’ as that which we bear after the fall, and the ‘likeness of God’, which we bore pre-fall and which will be restored at the consummation, in more recent times a consensus has emerged that no sharp distinction should be drawn between the two Hebrew phrases. Instead the focus has been on the nature of the imago, and here a wide range of options has been considered. In the fourth century, Augustine argued that it referred to the human capacity for rationality, in particular via our spirit. In contrast, Athanasius, writing a little earlier, thought that it referred to our ability to relate to God.

In surveying the historical literature, Middleton suggests that we can distinguish between a majority metaphysical, substantialistic interpretation and a minority relational view. The former looks for some analogy between the being of God and humanity, whether that analogy resides in rationality, immortality, freedom or personhood. As we have seen, Augustine would stand squarely in this tradition. By way of contrast, the minority tradition has argued for a much more dynamic understanding of the concept. Middleton suggests that this began with Luther,10 but according to Anatolios we see this idea present in Athanasius in the fourth century. He writes:

The statement that humanity was created according to the Image is simultaneously anthropological and christological: to be created according to the Image is to be granted a participation in the one who is the true and full Image of the Father.11

According to Middleton, however, both of these approaches have failed to take sufficiently seriously both the Hebraic and ANE context for the Genesis account. When such contextual factors are explored what becomes particularly clear is what he terms the ‘royal function’ of the imago Dei.12

On this reading the imago Dei designates the royal office or calling of human beings as God’s representatives and agents in the world, granted authorized power to share in God’s rule or administration of the earth’s resources and creatures.13

The background context that leads to this conclusion is not just the semantic range of tselem, the Hebrew word for image, but more importantly the ANE use of the phrase ‘image of God’. This phrase was almost exclusively applied to kings and pharaohs in their function as representative of (a) god on earth. While of course such a reading could lend weight to an exploitative anthropology of the kind that Lynn White has chastised,14 Middleton argues for a socio-political reading of Genesis 1 that actually represents a reversal of power relations. His point is that if we accept a sixth-century bc canonical dating for Genesis (irrespective of its pre-canonical form) then the political context for its readers was one of subjugation under Babylonian exile. Given this situation, the text serves to remind readers of their priestly and kingly duty to represent yhwh on earth. ‘Thus, far from constituting an oppressive text, Genesis 1 was intended to subvert an oppressive social system and to empower despairing exiles to stand tall again with dignity as God’s representatives in the world.’15

In a relatively rare excursion into the theology of international development, Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, points out that when the poor become subjects rather than custodians of creation they are reversing the creation mandate16 to steward the creation that has been given to us.

To be human is to be consciously involved in giving meaning to the world you inhabit; and so a situation in which you have no power to exercise that creativity, where you are expected to be passive in relation to what lies around you, is a situation in which the image of God is obscured . . . To be stuck in a reactive relat...

Table of contents

• Global Poverty
• PART 1 Creation
• PART 2 Fall
• PART 3 Israel
• PART 4 Redemption
• PART 5 Consummation