“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.”― The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
Man Was Created in God’s Image — But What Does That Mean?
What does it mean to be created in God’s image? Is it a divine mystery etched in ancient scriptures, a theological ideal meant to inspire humanity, or something far more personal and immediate? Perhaps it’s all of these. Yet, beyond these interpretations lies a more profound question—are we truly seeing one another, or even ourselves, as creations of divine love, or are we merely projecting our inner narratives onto the world around us?
Human perception is a powerful force. It colors every interaction, extending its bias to how we see others, the world, and God. If we fail to see with clarity and love, how can we truly understand the image of God—not just in others, but in ourselves?
We all view the world through a personal lens carved out by our experiences, beliefs, and biases. This is as true for the devout theologian as it is for the casual seeker. Ancient scribes inscribing wisdom may have described God’s image through parables, poetry, and powerful brevity, but today’s interpretations often scratch only the surface.
The roots of the challenge lie in the limitations of our perception. When you look at a friend, a lover, or even someone at odds with you, are you truly seeing them for who they are? Or are you crafting a version of them “in your image,” shaped by judgment, assumptions, biases, or maybe even fear? To gaze upon another unconditionally and without judgment is to break free of the shackles of perception and align with what could be God’s image—pure, unfiltered love.
But this is no easy task. Ancient scripts and doctrines may teach us lofty ideals but seldom prepare us for the gritty human challenges of seeing as God sees. It requires faith and intentional practice—the willingness to purify perception. This frontier seeks to bridge spirituality with practical, everyday existence.
If God is love, as many sacred traditions suggest, then it follows that seeing through the lens of love is the way we perceive God’s image. Picture this profound shift in consciousness; what if you saw all others—friends, enemies, strangers—as extensions of that very same love? What kind of world would you experience? What kind of person would you become?
To see someone in love’s image is to accept every facet of their being—their beauty and their flaws—with grace and compassion. And when we remain in this loving consciousness, the very universe shifts around us. Love becomes the prism through which we experience all things. The barriers dissolve. Suddenly, you’re no longer standing apart from the world—you are a living, breathing reflection of it.
But this transformation must start from within. Before we can see others in God’s image, we must confront how we see ourselves. If your inner reflections are filled with judgment, guilt, or self-loathing, how can you expect to perceive others—or the divine—with clarity? The shift begins when we redirect the gaze inward and invite healing into our own hearts.
The phrase “created in God’s image” has inspired thousands of years of theological debate. It’s been weaponized to divide and uplifted to unite. But today, within a world increasingly defined by diversity, conflicting ideologies, and fractured relationships, understanding this ancient concept has never been more critical.
One of the core challenges is navigating the intersection between religious doctrine and modern interpretations. To many, the phrase still conjures literal notions tied to physical form, but what if “image” was never meant to describe outward appearances? Consider instead the essence of being—the deep compassion, wisdom, and oneness that mirrors divine qualities.
The dissonance arises when we fail to see past our own fragmented awareness. If our perception is clouded by prejudice, fear, or anger, then the divine image becomes obscured. But when those clouds lift—whether through faith, revelation, or self-work—clarity emerges. We begin to see, as one ancient tradition describes it, “closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet.”
Personal spiritual awakenings often provide a glimpse of this deeper truth. Imagine standing on a mountain peak, the wind carrying the scent of pine, every sound muffled by the canopy of solitude. Suddenly, a stillness descends, and everything you’ve known falls away. At this moment, there is no separation between you and the world—every geological curves, every stream and boulder is not “out there” but inexplicably a part of you.
This revelation, as profound as it is humbling, was my experience in 1987, and at later times, and it uncovers an eternal truth. To know oneself deeply—to shed layers of identity and judgment—is to know God. And to know God is to recognize the inherent unity in all expressions of life. At such a level of awareness, one question lingers in every waking moment:
“How will I see myself today?”
When we begin to see all humanity as our family—all individuals as our brothers and sisters—it becomes impossible to perpetuate hatred, division, or isolation. Anger and pain, while natural, lose their grip. We are no longer bound by the wounds that once kept us trapped in separation.
The call to recognize humanity in God’s image is not reserved for scholars or mystics alone. It’s woven into the fabric of everyday interactions. It beckons us in simple yet radical ways—choosing peace when stirred by conflict, embodying love towards those who oppose us, or offering compassion to ourselves in moments of failure.
Reducing spiritual concepts to practicality doesn’t diminish their power; it amplifies them. Seeing God’s image in all life reminds us of our responsibility not just to humanity but to the Earth itself. When we care for plants, animals, and ecosystems with the same love we extend to a new child, we honor the divine in its fullest expression.
And even those moments of conflict—the family member whose actions spark anger, the stranger whose words wound us—become opportunities for transformation. Love, when extended in these moments, becomes the ultimate act of creating “God’s image” within and around us.
Religious and philosophical debates will always exist. Interpretations will vary across cultures and generations. But the question that persists is not “Who interprets this correctly?” but “How does this truth shape how we live?”
This broader view asks us to cross boundaries and extend dialogue. It challenges us to step outside fixed paradigms and engage in genuine, open discussions that foster collaboration rather than conflict. Love does not demand ideological conformity—it only asks for receptivity.
The phrase “Man was created in God’s image” carries an expansive truth waiting to be rediscovered. It’s not an abstract theological doctrine or a simple adage. It’s a calling—to see ourselves, others, and the divine with authenticity and love.
The dependency of perception on our worldview is no small thing. Begin by confronting your own filters. Reflect on how you see yourself and others. Ask yourself the question, “How will I view the world today?”
Start with love, carry it into every interaction, and watch the divine image reveal itself in ways you never imagined. The transformation begins within you. Don’t wait for tomorrow—embrace the reflection of truth today.
Do you want to begin a conversation with me about this subject? Be the first reader this year, other than my wife, to share your thoughts in the comments section.
