Imago Dei: Or, the Candy Grandpa

Belief is tricky. Real faith requires trusting in something that lies in the unknown region. Who’s to say what God is, really, if he/she/they are there at all? Uncertainty is the constant companion of true faith, doubt the contrasting counselor to belief.

Far from being antagonists, all of these are human experiences necessary to the pursuit of truth. Faith is the hypothesis from which all experiments derive truth, belief the confidence to pursue the course, doubt the acid leaching away all false notions from the resulting construct.

I am no longer Christian and frankly haven’t been for some time. And yet, I also strongly believe that the basic textures of Christ’s teachings and those of many of his immediate followers represent a basic substrate on which anyone, regardless of their religious affiliation, can find solid spiritual ground.

In this light, two teachings of the Bible come to mind that still ring true to me: First, that of all things God is, He is love; and second, that we are made in the image of God.

What this means to me is that any human act that demonstrates love reveals the image and likeness of God.

The reason I’m leading up all of this is a simple act of kindness today illustrates my whole understanding of what it means to see God.

As I sat next to my father in church, a simple scene unfolded. Children of all stripes came to where he sat with a Christmas stocking full of candy canes and a pocket full of smarties, and in exchange for a simple fist bump or short hug received a treat. By the end of sacrament meeting he had given every last candy cane away. It was a scene so simple I’m not sure anyone would notice if not looking.

I remember the candy grandpas when I was a child at church. The moment of positive attention and the simple treat smoothed what was otherwise a difficult experience for me.

These men know something keyed into when the angels descended to lowly shepherds to announce God’s birth: it is not the big, the proud, and the gorgeous, but instead the humble and simple that best reveal the face of God. It is the things we would not notice if we were not looking. The things we would not appreciate if they were not pointed out to us in some way.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no philistine-- I enjoy and appreciate the big, the proud and the gorgeous. But I would also be lying if I didn’t say I wouldn’t trade every last cathedral in Europe for a world built on simple kindness.

There is no better way to worship God than to display Him.