This article first appeared in the Christian Teachers Journal (Australia) and is reprinted here with permission.

Try these questions on for size: is a student’s math work as pleasing to God as her prayer? And do you think that a child’s oil painting is as sacred as his personal testimony of coming to Christ? And are you convinced that studying history is not only obedience to the government, but obedience to God?

It is critical that Christian educators have a clear answer to these questions. In this article, I want to tackle these questions by explaining what has been called the “cultural mandate,” and then showing its significance for our classrooms. The phrase “cultural mandate” is often heard in staff meetings and school corridors—and so it should be. Yet outside Christian schools, the concept of the cultural mandate is rarely spoken about or preached on—so our understanding of this important concept has faded. Recovery of it will display the deep significance of learning in God’s world, so let’s give the cultural mandate some close attention.

A key text for understanding the cultural mandate is Genesis 1:27: “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”

While you have probably read these words one hundred times, they may have never grabbed you—the idea of the image of God isn’t a metaphor familiar to Western culture. Yet for Israel’s ancient Near Eastern neighbors, this idea was rich with meaning—this is temple language. The “image of god” was the statue (or idol) that stood in the sanctuary as a representation of the deity.

The importance of these temple images for ancient Near Eastern religion is displayed in the complex rituals surrounding the installation of an image in the temple. First, the image is carved by skilled craftsmen from wood or stone. Then the carving tools are thrown away, often into water, as a sign that the image was made by the gods. Third, the image is brought to life through various rituals, for example mouth washing ceremonies. Fourth, the image is installed in the temple with great reverence—here is the image of god!

In order to understand the biblical concept of humanity bearing the image of God, we need to explore the role of these temple images. Bearing the image of the deity was both relational and functional. By relational, I mean that the temple image was the nexus between the gods and the world. The gods were fed here, placated, worshipped, and inquired of here. By functional, I mean that the image was the location from which the gods ruled the world, by blessing, cursing, providing rain, healing the sick, and so on.

You might pause now and try to work through the implications of all this for our bearing the image of God: what does Genesis 1:27 mean when it says that humanity is created in God’s image? You might like to take a moment and jot some ideas down.

With the words “in the image of God,” Genesis 1 presents humanity as installed by God in his temple (the world) to display his image, reflecting his loving rule to the rest of creation. Genesis 1 portrays the whole world as God’s temple (“Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool,” Isaiah 66:1). And in his world-temple, God has placed his image-bearers to display his life-giving rule. Humanity represents God both relationally and functionally—we display both his character and his gracious rule.

The verse that follows clarifies what it means to bear the image of God: “God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground’” (Genesis 1:28).

The command “to rule over” indicates that bearing the image of God is something we do. We are to image God the creator in and to his world, by ruling over it (or, as other translations say, “having dominion” over it.) The plain meaning of the Hebrew word “to have dominion” is: rule, lead, direct. This task of providing guidance and leadership in God’s good world is central to what it means to be human.

Yet what is the nature of humanity’s responsibility toward creation? What is the shape of humanity’s leadership?

To sharpen the question, what am I to make of a comment said to me recently: “Climate change is okay, because we are to rule the earth! And Christ will return and destroy it anyway!” Is this a proper understanding of “ruling over”?

The direction of our leadership is set by God’s own interaction with his world. The message of all that precedes Genesis 1:27–28 is that God has created the world with care and design. God has made a “good” world, for the delight of both himself and humanity. In light of this, Loren Wilkinson writes, “men and women have been called to a unique place in creation: they have been given the task of modeling the gracious and self-giving nature of their Creator to each other and to the rest of creation.” Wilkinson uses the word stewardship to describe humanity’s role in creation. Stewardship is servant leadership, enacted for the life of the world.

Consider what a delight it is for God to watch humanity fulfil our role in his world. Our little toddler is learning to do jigsaw puzzles, and it is a delight for us to see her learn to fit the pieces into their places. What a delight for God to watch his image-bearers continuing his creative work! It is as if God, having finished creating, stands and rubs his hands together and says: “I can’t wait until they discover sports! I can’t wait until they discover the novel! I can’t wait until they discover economics, jazz music, and the saxophone.”

It is helpful to speak of our role as developing creation. Although God has finished the work of creation, he has put an image of himself on the earth with a mandate to continue. From now on the development of earth will involve society and culture, art and sports, architecture and science. And to develop creation in this way is good and pleasing to God. Indeed to develop creation is a part of what it means to be human. A hymn that I love, “Earth and All Stars,” expresses how humanity’s fulfilling the cultural mandate causes God’s name to be praised:

Engines and steel! Come, pounding hammers!
Sing to the Lord a new song!
Limestone and beams! Strong building workers!
Sing to the Lord a new song.

How thoroughly have we thought this through as educators? Do we really believe that working in God’s world and learning about God’s world glorifies him? Let’s press the point: What would be your reaction if we installed a secular art exhibition in your church foyer? Or try this on for size: My friend manufactures large precision machine parts by hand. His work is beautiful—in a sense. What if we used a crane to install one of his steel pieces into the church foyer? Would these finely crafted parts be “sacred” enough for your church building? How much does God value our working in his world and learning about his world?

In many Christian circles all this isn’t assumed. I recall listening to a man being interviewed at a large Christian men’s convention. The man shared how he struggled to feel purpose and significance in his work (the man was a carpenter). He shared with the audience how he finally found direction and purpose by becoming a Bible study leader at his church. Now, in leading Bible study groups, he is living faithfully, the man said.

While we certainly affirm the value of leading Bible studies, it seems that at the root of this man’s discontent was not wrong activity, but wrong understanding. He (and the conference organizers) had not understood the role of humankind in God’s world. They failed to realize that this man’s primary witness to the world is given as a carpenter. As this man works skilfully with wood, making joints and splitting the pencil line with a saw cut, he glorifies God. He delights the Father as he imagines new ways to use the wood from God’s trees! He advertises Christ’s lordship as he creates objects that were unimaginable, in the beginning.

If a carpenter chisels wood, if a metal worker makes a frame, if a teacher studies mathematics, if an artist sculpts an impression, we are developing God’s world, and this is pleasing to him. Don’t think that working in God’s world like this is a neutral activity that we have to do to earn money. It is pleasing to God to engage in his world, developing it to maturity.

A carpenter works with God’s wood. An accountant works with God’s numbers. The truck driver moves about in God’s space; the policeman keeps peace in God’s world; and the chemistry teacher teaches about God’s molecules. And it is especially pleasing to God when we work in his world in the name of Christ, with gratitude for his gifts and wonder at his imagination.

Now back to those questions: Are we convinced that a student’s math work is as pleasing to God as her prayer? And are we convinced that a child’s oil painting is as sacred as his personal testimony of coming to Christ? And are we convinced that studying history is not only obedience to the government, but obedience to God?

Is this the message of our teaching? It comes down, in part, to the background noise of our classrooms. It would be wonderful if we used phrases in the classroom such as (for elementary students): “God is smiling right now as you work, he always smiles when we work in his world!” Or (for middle school): “God loves seeing you do this, because you are working in his world!” Or (for high school): “This is a holy activity—work is a holy activity.” Or, perhaps best yet: “This is what it means to be human.”