Published online by Cambridge University Press: 10 June 2011
In the history of biblical interpretation and dogmatic speculation, Gen 1:26–28 has proved remarkably fecund as a source of exegetical and theological reflection. Literature on the passage is now boundless, but shows no sign of ceasing or abating, despite the appearance in recent decades of several exhaustive treatments of the text and the existence of substantial consensus among biblical scholars. The reason for the perpetual fascination of the passage lies in the nature and limits of the text. The verses contain a fundamental, and unique, statement of biblical anthropology and theology–presented in a terse and enigmatic formulation. A rare attempt within the OT literature to speak directly and definitively about the nature of humanity in relation to God and other creation, the statement is at once limited in its content, guarded in its expression, and complex in its structure. As a consequence, philologist and theologian are enticed and compelled in ever new contexts of questions and understandings to explore anew the meaning and implications of creation “in the divine image”–for it is this striking and unique expression, above all, that has dominated the discussion.
2 It is impossible to list even the major works on the passage. For the history of modern exegesis, however, two studies require special note: Humbert, Paul, “L'‘imago Dei’ dans l'Ancien Testament” (Etudes sur le récit du paradis et de la chute dans la Genèse [Mémoires de l'université de Neuchätel 14; Neuchâtel: Secrétariat de l'université; 1940] 153–75)Google Scholar, and Koehler, Ludwig, “Die Grundstelle der Imago-Dei-Lehre, Gen 1:26” (ThZ 4 [1948] 16–22).Google Scholar Recent detailed exegetical treatments of the Priestly creation account as a whole, with compilations of the most important literature, are offered by Westermann, Claus, Genesis (BKAT 1/3; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1968) 203–22Google Scholar, esp. 203–4; and Schmidt, Werner H., Die Schöpfungsgeschichte der Priesterschrift (WMANT 17; 3d ed.; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1973).Google Scholar Subsequent specialized literature includes the following: Anderson, Bernhard W., “Human Dominion over Nature,” Biblical Studies in Contemporary Thought (ed. Ward, M.; Somerville, MA: Greeno, Hadden, 1975) 27–45Google Scholar; Barr, James, “The Image of God in the Book of Genesis—A Study in Terminology,” BJRL 51 (1968) 11–26Google Scholar; “The Image of God in Genesis —Some Linguistic and Historical Considerations,” Ou-Testamenticsc Werkgemeenskap van Suid-Afrika: Proceedings of the 10th Meeting, 1967 (1971) 5–13Google Scholar; “Man and Nature—The Ecological Controversy and the Old Testament,” BJRL 55 (1972/1973) 9–32Google Scholar; Hasel, Gerhard, “The Meaning of ‘Let us’ in Gen 1:26,” AUSS 13 (1975) 58–66Google Scholar; “The Polemic Nature of the Genesis Cosmology,” EvQ 46 (1974) 81–102Google Scholar; Lohfink, Norbert, “‘Seid fruchtbar und füllt die Erde an!’ Zwingt die priesterschriftliche Schöpfungsdarstellung in Gen 1 die Christen zum Wachstumsmythos?” BK 3 (1975) 77–82Google Scholar; Loretz, Oswald, Die Gottebenbildlichkeit des Menschen. Mit einem Beitrag von Erik Hornung: Der Mensch als ‘Bild Gottes’ in Ägypten (Munich: Kösel, 1967)Google Scholar; Mettinger, Tryggve N. D., “Abbild oder Urbild? ‘Imago Dei' in traditionsgeschichtliche Sicht,” ZAW 86 (1974) 403–24; J. Maxwell Miller, “In the ‘Image’ and ‘Likeness’ of God ” JBL 91 (1972) 289–304Google Scholar; Sawyer, John F. A., “The Meaning of běşelem 'ělōhîm (‘In the Image of God’) in Genesis I—XI,” JTS 25 (1974) 418–26CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Snaith, Norman, “The Image of God,” ExpTim 86/1 (1974) 24Google Scholar; Trible, Phyllis, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978) 1–30.Google Scholar
A fuller listing of titles would reveal even more clearly how discussion of Gen 1:26–28 has concentrated on the imago dei and the first person plurals of the divine address in v 26. More limited interest has been shown in the imperatives of v 28, esp. in recent literature concerned with the ethical issues of population, reproduction and ecology. Relatively little attention has been given to the specification of male and female in v 27b, with the exception of recent feminist literature or literature generated in response to feminist critique of the OT's androcentric anthropology. Most of the latter is of a relatively popular nature and while of considerable importance for the question of hermeneutics, has contributed little in the way of new exegetical insight.
3 Cf. Karl Barth's criticism of the neglect of the text by theologians who regularly cited it, a practice which he traces back into the early church (Church Dogmatics [hereafter CD] 3/1 [Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1958] 192–93).Google Scholar On the legacy of a problematic anthropology derived from Gen 1:27 in the earliest period and determinative for later discussion, see also Schmidt, Karl Ludwig, “Homo imago Dei im Alten und Neuen Testament,” Der Mensch als Bild Gottes (ed. Scheffczyk, Leo; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1969) 17–20.Google Scholar
4 The origins of an OT exegetical tradition distinct from the dominant philosophical and theological tradition and generally critical of it are usually traced to Nöldeke, Theodor (“ und ” ZAW 17 [1897] 183–87)Google Scholar and Gunkel, Hermann (Genesis [HKAT 1; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1901]).Google Scholar Their interpretation of the “image” as a physical resemblance, confirmed by the word studies of Humbert (Etudes) and Koehler (“Grundstelle”), became the basis of subsequent OT discussion. Cf. Jakob, Johann Stamm's review of the history of OT scholarship in “Die Imago-Lehre von Karl Barth und die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft,” Antwort (Barth, Festschrift K.; Zollikon-Zurich: Evangelischer, 1956) 84–96.Google Scholar OT treatments of the passage often take up the older theological and philosophical views as a-part of the history of scholarship and/or to show their inadequacy (see, e.g., Westermann, Genesis 1/3, 205–6, and Loretz, Gotteben-bildlichkeii, 9–41). Theologians, as heirs to the dominant tradition of speculation, more commonly confine their discussion within it, showing little recognition that an independent exegetical tradition has emerged alongside it. See, e.g., the articles collected under the heading, “Die systematische Durchdringung,” in the volume edited by Scheffczyk (Der Mensch als Bild Gottes, 331–525).
5 See, e.g., Mettinger, “Abbild oder Urbild?” 410. Cf. Stamm, “Die Imago-Lehre von Karl Barth,” 94.
6 CD 3/1. 183–206.
7 7CD 3/1. 193.
8 Dietrich Bonhoeffer appears to have been the first to interpret the imago dei in terms of an analogia relationis in which the male-female duality is the defining human relationship (Schöpfung und Fall [Munich: Kaiser, 1933] 29–30Google Scholar). It is Barth's development of the idea, however, as a keystone of his anthropology (CD 3/1. 194–95), that has made it—and its faulty exegesis —such a widely influential notion.
9 See, e.g., the argument of Green, Clifford (“Liberation Theology? Karl Barth on Women and Men,” USQR 29 [1974] 221–31)Google Scholar, who quotes with general approbation a critique of Barth's exegesis in 3/1 (esp. 183ff., 289ff.) by Lehmann, Paul (“Karl Barth and the Future of Theology,” RelS 6 [1970] 113)Google Scholar: “[This] elaborate interpretation … offers an impressive correlation of ingeniousness and arbitrariness, which allows Barth to ascribe insights and affirmations to ancient writers which, as historical human beings they could not possibly have entertained.” Green qualifies this assessment, however, with the following statement: “This criticism does not, in my view, apply to Barth's reading of the imago Dei, which is liberating for women and men alike” (225). Green's argument appears typical of much recent literature, which concerns itself with the consequences or implications of the idea (e.g., is it liberating or not?), but does not question or examine its exegetical base.
10 See, e.g., the critique of Stamm (“Die Imago-Lehre von Karl Barth,” esp. 94). Cf., however, Horst, Friedrich (“Face to Face: The Biblical Doctrine of the Image of God,” Int 4 [1950] 259–70)Google Scholar, who follows closely Barth's argument concerning the analogia relationis (266–67).
11 By “feminist” theology or critique I refer to that work which is characterized by an awareness that traditional theology and biblical interpretation have been dominated, in one way or another, by “patriarchal” or androcentric perspectives, values and judgments. Awareness of this persistent bias has led to various attempts to expose, explain, and reinterpret texts that have traditionally carried the patriarchal message and to identify, where possible, sources which qualify or contradict it. These efforts differ considerably in methodology, attitude toward the tradition and its authority, and knowledge of the relevant disciplines and scholarly tools. Much is the work of amateurs, for the origins of the critique and new constructions were almost entirely “outside the camp”—precisely because those within the scholarly guilds lacked the necessary experiential base, or, for other reasons of restricted environment, failed to recognize the problem.
12 The ambivalence of feminist response to Barth may be attributed to a number of factors, including selective reading of an extensive and complex treatment of the relationship of the sexes and dependence on an inadequate English translation. Most criticism has focused on his discussion of order in the male-female relationship, developed in relation to NT texts and Genesis 2 (CD 3/4). The notion of “ontological subordination” ascribed to Barth on the basis of this reading has become a commonplace, though Green (“Liberation Theology,” 222–23 and 229) argues that the expression cannot be attributed to Barth and that it misconstrues his intention —and language. Cf. Daly, Mary, Beyond God the Father (Boston: Beacon, 1973) 3Google Scholar, 22; Barufaldi, Linda L. and Culpepper, Emily E., “Androgyny and the Myth of Masculine/Feminine,” Christianity and Crisis 33/6 (16 April 1973) 69Google Scholar; and Collins, Sheila, “Toward a Feminist Theology,” The Christian Century 89 (2 August 1972) 797–98.Google Scholar
A serious problem involves the key term ungleich. Barth characterizes the duality of I-and-Thou in Gen 1:26–27 as a “correspondence of unlike” (CD 3/1. 196; = “Ent-sprechung des Ungleichen” [KD, 220]), but appears to spell this out in his discussion of Gen 2:18–25 as a relationship of inequality (“unequal duality” [CD 3/1. 288]) (Romero, Joan Arnold, “The Protestant Principle: A Woman's-Eye View of Barth and Tillich,” Religion and Sexism [ed. Reuther, Rosemary R.; New York: Simon and Schuster, 1974] 324).Google Scholar However, the German adjective is identical in both passages (“ungleiche [n] Zweiheit” [KD 3/1. 329]) and means to negate the idea of “sameness,” not “equality,” in the pair (Green, “Liberation Theology?” 229, n. 14).
For feminists who have been able to read Barth's exposition of the analogia relationis in Gen 1:27 apart from—or over against—his treatment of the male-female relationship in other contexts, the possibilities it suggests for a new appreciation and evaluation of human sexual distinction have been attractive. See, e.g., Jewett, Paul, Man as Male and Female (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975)Google Scholar esp. 33–48, and Justes, Emma, “Theological Reflections on the Role of Women in Church and Society” (Journal of Pastoral Care 32 [1978]) 42–54.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
13 I assume for Gen 1:1–2:3 a unified work by a priestly editor/author active in and during the Babylonian exile, who edited an already existing Israelite creation account (perhaps extant in multiple variants, or supplemented by material from other traditions) to form the opening chapter of a great history of beginnings reaching from creation to the death of Moses and climaxing in the revelation/legislation at Sinai. Whether the author/editor was a single or corporate “individual” is irrelevant to the argument of this essay. The two essential assumptions of my analysis are (1) that the present (final) edition of the material displays a unified overall conception characterized by recognizable stylistic and theological features and forms part of a larger whole displaying similar literary and theological characteristics, and (2) that the present form of the composition in Genesis 1 is the result of a complex history of growth, stages of which are apparent in the received text, but can no longer be isolated or fully reconstructed.
I agree with Werner Schmidt (Schöpfungsgeschichte) that the framing structure of wayyō'mer 'ělōhîm + wayěhî-kěn and the Wortberichte as a whole belong to the final editor and give evidence of selection, shaping and expansion of older material. I am less certain about the recovery of the underlying tradition or of the relationship of Wortberichtl Announcement to TatberichtExeculion Report. I retain the terms to refer not to independent literary compositions, or traditions, but to literary features of the final composi-tion. Anderson's insistence on the stylistic unity of the Priestly creation account and his attention to the controlling patterns of the final form of the text (“A Stylistic Study of the Priestly Creation Story,” Canon and Authority in Old Testament Religion and Theology [eds. Coats, George W. and Long, Burke O.; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977] 91–109Google Scholar, esp. 151) represents a welcome shift from earlier dissecting approaches; however, I do not think that his analysis invalidates much of Schmidt's observations and explanations of disparity between Wort- and Tatberichten. 1 find it necessary, in any case, to posit a prehistory of Israelite usage; Genesis 1 is in my view neither a “free” composition nor a direct response to any known Mesopotamian or Canaanite myth, despite clear evidence of polemical shaping (cf. Hasel, “The Polemic Nature of the Genesis Cosmology,” and Maag, Victor, “Alttestamentliche Anthropogonie in ihrem Verhltns zur altorientalischen Mythologie,” Asiatische Studien 9 [1955] 15–44Google Scholar).
14 Rad, Gerhard von, Genesis. A Commentary (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961) 45.Google Scholar
15 Vv 29–30 are an essential part of P's statement about the nature and role of adam within the created order and form a significant link with the later P complex. Gen 9:1–3, bringing to the received tradition a peculiar interest of the final Priestly writer (Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 152–53; cf. Westermann, Genesis, 227–28; McEvenue, Sean E., The Narrative Style of the Priestly Writer [Rome: Biblical Institute, 1971] 66–71Google Scholar; and Miller, “In the image’ and ‘Likeness’ of God,” 299–304). We omit consideration of these verses here because they constitute a distinct unit and lack any connection, direct or indirect, to 27b, which is the focus of this investigation.
16 The full series is found only in the LXX. Cf. Anderson, “A Stylistic Study,” 152.
17 The theme of order and the specification of orders cannot be reduced to cultic interest, though elements of that are present. Nor can it be subsumed under the needs of adam, though the account is certainly anthropocentric. It is rather a broad and fundamental theological concern, which may properly be characterized as “scientific” in its interest and observations.
18 Textual variants are few and of minor significance for our analysis. LXX has a conjunction (kai) between běṣalmēnû and kidmûtēnû in v 26 and reads only the second běṣelem in 27a (see discussion below), while individual MSS and versions assimilate the singular and plural object pronouns or eliminate bārā' 'ōtō in 27aα. LXX also renders more uniform parallel lists and formulas repeated with variation in MT (28b // 26b; 28aα // 22a). See commentaries.
19 Anderson, “A Stylistic Study,” 154–59.
20 The basic meanings of the terms ṣelem and děmût are “representation” and “likeness” (see further below). The prepositions, which are used synonymously, create parallel and synonymous adverbial clauses which describe the manner and end of construction (adam is “modeled” on 'ělōhîm and is consequently a model of 'ělōhîm). The intention is to describe a resemblance of adam to God which distinguishes adam from all other creatures—and has consequence for adam's relationship to them.
21 For the understanding of wěyirdû … as a purpose or result clause, see, inter alios, Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 127 (“damit sie herrschen”); NEB (“to rule”); Snaith, “The Image of God,” 24; and Westermann, Genesis 216. The function of wěyirdû as specification of purpose or consequence has been understood in a number of different ways, often as a direct explication of the image, or of creation in the divine image (cf. von Rad, Genesis, 57; Snaith, “The Image of God,” 24). Westermann observes that specification of purpose or goal is a characteristic feature of accounts of human creation (Genesis, 218).
22 Westermann has correctly emphasized the adverbial character of běṣalměnû kidmûtěnû (Genesis, 214), basing his analysis on the consensus of recent scholarship which rejects the 6-essentiae interpretation and recognizes the essentially synonymous meaning of the two phrases, whose interchangeable propositions must have the meaning “according to,” “nach” (so LXX [kata for both] and Vg [“ad” for both]) (Genesis, 201; cf. Sawyer, “The Meaning of běṣelem 'ělōhîm,” 421; Mettinger, “Abbild oder Urbild?” 406–7; Miller, “In the image’ and ‘Likeness’ of God,” 295). This grammatical analysis leads Westermann to argue that the text “macht nicht eine Aussage über den Menschen, sondern über ein Tun Gottes” (Genesis, 214). But the alternatives are too exclusively drawn. What describes the act or mode of construction cannot be excluded from an understanding of the product; i.e., construction (as process and design) determines or affects construction (as product or result). Surely the Priestly writer intended to characterize adam by this formulation, to specify more closely the essential nature of humanity, while avoiding direct description. P intends a comparison between God and adam, but he intends it to be indirect. The prepositions guard against identity, even the identity of an image or icon. Strictly speaking, adam is not the image of God (so rightly Westermann) nor one possessing the divine image, but only one who is like God in the manner of an image or representation.
Since běṣelem 'ělōhîm describes, indirectly, the nature of adam, it characterizes all humankind in all time and not simply the original act, or specimen, of creation. The stamp of divine likeness must therefore be understood to be transmitted not through repeated acts of God but through the process by which the species is perpetuated in its original identity, viz., through procreation (Gen 5:3).
23 So correctly Koehler (“Grundstelle,” 20–21), building on Humbert (Etudes, 163); the qualifying character of kidmût is suggested by its position as the second term (Sawyer, “The Meaning of běṣelem 'ělōhlm,” 421) as well as by its common lexical meaning and use. As an abstract term, whose very meaning suggests approximation, it weakens or blurs the outline of the preceding concrete term. Děmût is used by P's contemporary, Ezekiel, in the same sense of qualified resemblance that it has in Genesis 1; and it is employed elsewhere by P, alone (in 5:1), where the specific content or connotation of selem is not required or desired. Selem, in contrast, is the specialized and unique term, “defined” by its use in Genesis 1.
Miller's argument for the priority of děmût (“In the ‘Image’ and ‘Likeness’ of God,” 299–304) is not convincing. Děmût belongs to the final P edition of Genesis 1 and occurs alone in 5:1, which is a purely P construction, creating a bridge between the creation story (traditional material shaped by P) and the genealogical framework of the primeval history. There, in 5:1–2, the essential content of 1:26–28 is recapitulated in P's own terms—with the addition of the naming motif that prepares for the transition from collective adam in Gen 1 and 5:1–2 to the representative individual, Adam, who heads the genealogy of 5:3ff.
24 See Humbert (Etudes), Koehler (“Grundstelle”), and n. 34, below. Şelem in P's use is neither the crudely or naively literal image assumed by those who fail to recognize the determining metaphor, nor the description of a conversation partner or counterpart. Recognition that the term is basically concrete in its meaning has not stopped commentators from asking wherein the resemblance lies and from drawing on other OT texts, as well as modern psychology, for their answers. Thus, e.g., Koehler sought the resemblance in adam's “upright stature” (“Grundstelle,” 20), while others endorse a more general physical resemblance, noting, however, that Hebrew thought treated the individual as a psycho-somatic unity, thereby excluding the notion of merely external correspondence (so, e.g., Gunkel: “das Geistige [ist] dabei nicht ausgeschlossen” [Genesis, 99]; cf. von Rad [Genesis, 56] and Westermann [Genesis, 207–8]). For many interpreters influenced by Barth, the correspondence suggested by the metaphor is spelled out as a relational correspondence describing a capacity and need for relatedness, including communication. Thus Stamm sees the meaning of the imago as “Partnerschaft und Bündnisfähigkeit” (Die Gottebenbildlichkeit des Menschen im Alten Testament [Theologische Studien 54; Zollikon-Zurich: Evangelischer, 1959] 19)Google Scholar, while Horst would have it describe a special capability of intercourse with God (“Face to Face,” 267), making adam “the vis-à-vis (Gegenüber) of God in the same manner as the woman, in Gen 2:20, is a helpmeet ‘as over against’ (im Gegenüber) the man” (265). This argument is faulty on a number of grounds. There is no similarity in language or idea between the kěneged of Gen 2:18, 20 and the běṣelem-/kidmût- of 1:26. And it is obvious from the (secondary) use of ṣelem in 5:3 and 7:6 that it does not describe a quality of relationship or even precondition of relationship. P is not concerned with communication between Adam and Seth, but with the preservation of an essential likeness of the species through successive generations. Cf. also the critique of Victor Maag (“Alttestamentliche Anthropogonie,” 34).
In response to continuing attempts to spell out the content of the image, James Barr has recently argued that the term ṣelem was deliberately chosen for its opaque etymology and ambivalent connotations as the best term available in Hebrew to describe a likeness without giving it a particular content (“A Study in Terminology,” 18, 20–21; cf. “Some Linguistic and Historical Considerations,” 12–13). Recent literature has also stressed the fact that the notion of humans as godlike creatures, created according to a divine model or prototype and standing in a special relationship to the gods, is not unique to Israel, but is a widely shared notion, though implications of this likeness may be spelled out in quite different ways. The concept, in this analysis, is an inherited one for P, whose problem was to fit it to Israelite theology and exclude as far as possible false understandings which may have accompanied it (Maag, , “Sumerische und babylonische Mythen von der Erschaffung der Menschen,” Asiatische Studien 8 [1954] 96–98Google Scholar; cf. “Alttestamentliche Anthro-pogonie,” 36–37; Westermann, Genesis, 212–13; and Loretz, Gottebenbildlichkeit, 63–64).
25 The first scholar to read the expression of Genesis 1 as the adaptation of a royal title or designation appears to have been Johannes Hehn in 1915 (“Zum Terminus ‘Bild Gottes,’” Festschrift Eduard Sachau [ed. Gotthold Weil; Berlin: Reimer] 36–52). Hehn's lead has been followed by von Rad (Genesis, 58); Wildberger (“Abbild,” 245–59, 481–501); and Schmidt (Schöpfungsgeschichte, 137–48), inter alios.
26 It is often noted that ṣelem and děmût are not used in the OT to speak of the king. Anderson stresses the contrast between Genesis 1 and Psalm 8 precisely in respect to royal language and theology (“Human Dominion,” 39), though he allows that “vestigal remains” of a royal theology can be seen in Genesis 1, especially in “the motif of the image of God which entitles Man to have dominion over the earth” (36).
27 See esp. Hornung, “Der Mensch als ‘Bild Gottes’ in Ägypten,” in Loretz, Die Gottebenbildlichkeit des Menschen, 123–56; and Otto, Eberhard, “Der Mensch als Geschöpf und Bild Gottes in Ägypten,” Probleme biblischer Theologie (ed. Wolff, H. W.; Munich: Kaiser, 1971) 334–48.Google Scholar Schmidt and Wildberger both draw upon Egyptian texts to suggest parallels, and a source, for the expression in Gen 1:26, 27. Of particular interest to Schmidt is the “democratized” usage found in the wisdom literature, in which a title that originally designated, and distinguished, the king is “extended” to humanity as a whole, and associated more particularly with their creation (cf., e.g., “The Instruction of Merikare,” Schöpfungsgeschichte, 139). This evidence, combined with a more limited occurrence oi the same expression in Mesopotamian royal designations, suggested a common ancient Near Eastern royal ideology. That the expression of Gen 1:26–28 was anchored in this tradition was made virtually certain, Schmidt argued, by the explicit royal language used in Psalm 8, the only OT parallel to the Genesis 1 account (140).
28 Otto, “Der Mensch als Geschöpf und Bild Gottes,” 344–47; and Hornung, “Der Mensch als ‘Bild Gottes’ in Ägypten,” 147–51. Otto distinguishes the royal usage sharply from the use of similar (in some cases identical) expressions to describe the relationship of nonroyal figures to the god or gods. The royal usage implies—and depends upon—a notion of identity, he insists, while the nonroyal usage describes only a form of analogy. The distinction lies in the ancient and fundamental Egyptian distinction between royal theology and (general) anthropology (344).
29 So, apparently, Hornung (“Der Mensch als ‘Bild Gottes’ in Ägypten,” 150), who notes that the expression appears in the wisdom tradition prior to and independent of the royal usage. Neither Otto nor Hornung recognize a development within the complex Egyptian usage which could be described as the “democratizing” of an original royal concept and designation.
30 The following texts are cited in CAD (nos. 2–4) and AHW (all) under the heading of “transferred meanings,” with the translation “likeness”/“Abbild.”
31 From a fragment of the Tukulti-Ninurta Epic, probably composed not long after the defeat of Kashtiliash IV (1232–25) (Lambert, W. G., “Three Unpublished Fragments of the Tukulti-Ninurta Epic,” AfO 18 [1957] 38–51Google Scholar; and William L. Moran, private commu nication). The statement occurs in a hymn of praise to the Assyrian king, which compares him to a god in his stature (1.16; Moran, citing AHW 374b; cf. Lambert, 51) and birth (1.17) and proclaims his exaltation to a position next to Ninurta himself (1.20):
18) He is the eternal image of Enlil, who hears what the people say, the “Counsel” of the land.
20) Enlil, like a physical father (kīma abi ālidi) exalted him (ušarbīšu) second to (arki) his firstborn son [i.e., Ninurta] (Lambert, 50–51).
32 Nos. 2 and 3 are from petitions of the court astrologer Adad-šumu-uṣur to Esarhaddon and his son Ashurbanipal, respectively (Simo Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal, Part 1 [= AOAT, 5/1; Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker, Neuk irchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1970] nos. 143 [= ABL 5] r 4ff. [pp. 112–13] and 125 [= ABL 6] 17f. [pp. 98–100]; cf. Waterman, Leroy, Royal Correspondence of the Assyrian Empire, Parts 1 and 3 [Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1930–31])Google Scholar. In no. 2 the writer draws an analogy with the sun god (Shamash) who, he says, stays in the dark only half a day. The king, he urges, should not remain indoors for days on end, but like the Sun, whose image he is, come out of the dark (Parpola, 113). No. 3 belongs to a profession of loyalty to the new king. Both texts are a courtier's words of adulation, but the terms of exaltation are hardly his invention.
33 From a Babylonian astrological report (= Thompson, R. C., The Reports of the Magicians and Astrologers of Nineveh and Babylon in the British Museum, 2 [London: Luzac, 1900]Google Scholar no. 170 r 2). The text appears to liken the king to Marduk in his display of an ger—and reconciliation —toward his servants (Moran, private communication; cf. Thomp son, Reports, lxii; and Weidner, Ernst, OLZ 15 [1912] 319Google Scholar).
34 CAD/AHW: ṣalmu; BDB: ṣelem. The notion of representation goes beyond that of a representative in suggesting a measure of identity, or an essential correspondence. Such identity, however, is not identity of substance or being, but of character or function (and power), for the image is always a copy, not a double or derivative; it is of different material or kind than the original. The image stands for the original, which it reproduces and shows forth. The term is basically concrete. It does not refer to an idea, nor does it describe a model, pattern or prototype (contra Mettinger, “Abbild oder Urbild?” esp. 411). Since ṣalmu/ṣelem describes a formal resemblance and holistic representation, the particular attributes of the original which the ṣelem may be intended to manifest must be determined by contexts of use.
In Mesopotamia, the most common use of the term is to designate the statue of a god or king, while the largest class of metaphorical usage describes an individual as the “statue/image” of a god. In four of the five examples cited in CAD and AHW, the one designated ṣalmu of the god is a king. The fifth example describes a conjuror priest and belongs to a twofold identification, of word and person, which serves to emphasize the truth and efficacy of his conjuration: šipturn šipat dMarduk āšipu ṣalam dMarduk: “The conjuration (recited) is the conjuration of Marduk, the conjuror is the very image of Marduk” (AfO 14 150.225f. [bīt mēsiri]) (cited from CAD). In both royal and priestly designations the human representative is viewed above all as one possessing the power and authority of the god, whether for weal or woe. No “democratized” usage of the expression is attested in Akkadian sources; “likeness” to the god belongs only to the god's special representative (s).
35 Frankfort, Henri, Kingship and the Gods (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1948) 215–61Google Scholar, 295–312, esp. 237, 307, 309.
36 Bohl, Franz M. T. (“Das Zeitalter der Sargonide,” Opera Minora [Groningen/Djakarta: Wolters, 1953] 403)Google Scholar found expression of the idea of the king as image of the god not only in the term ṣalmu, but also ṣillu, which he translated “Schattenbild” (403). The meaning of the term in his key text (ABL 652 = Parpola, Letters, no. 145) is disputed, however, as is the meaning of the proverb cited in the text (cf. Böhl, “Der babylonische Fürstenspiegel,” MAOG 11, 3 [1939] 49; Frankfort, Kingship, 407, n. 35; and Parpola, Letters, 113). The final line appears, nevertheless, to contain a clear expression of the king's likeness to the god, in this case using the term muššulu (<mašālu “to be similar” [CAD]), a term corresponding to Hebrew dèmût (cf. Wildberger, “Abbild,” 254):
šarru šu [k]al! muššuli ša ili
The king is the perfect likeness of the god
(Parpola, Letters, 113; cf. Böhl, “Fürstenspiegel,” 49; and “Zeitalter,” 403).
37 Polemical features of the account have been widely noted, often in relation to the dominant Mesopotamian creation myth, Enuma Elish (see, e.g., Maag, “Alttestamentliche Anthropogonie,” 31–41, esp. 37; cf. Hasel, “The Polemic Nature of the Genesis Cosmology”). The Babylonian exile surely encouraged sharpening of the distinctive elements of Israelite theology, cosmology—and anthropology—in relation to the views of the surround ing culture. But Israel's dialogue with “foreign” culture did not begin there. Israel's theology was constructed from the beginning in dynamic critical appropriation of the religious heritage of Canaan and confrontation with the recurrent challenge of competing local and foreign cults and myths. The origins of the Priestly creation account and many of the features that characterize it as a counter myth must be placed during the monarchy rather than the exile.
The significance of the Akkadian cognate equivalents to the unique OT expression, ṣelem 'ělōhîm, lies in their close association with the royal theology and their distribution in time; the usage spans the period from the origin of the Israelite monarchy and its temple cult to the seventh and sixth centuries, when the temple traditions received their final form. Past emphasis on the latter period as the significant period of cultural interchange, and polemic, may be attributed to the dating of P—and to the dates of the extant parallels. The one early example among our citations, and the one in which the expression is most clearly part of a consciously articulated royal theology, was not published until 1957. Thus Böhl could argue in 1953 (“Zeit der Sargonide,” 403) that the idea of the king as image of the god was a new and distinctive feature of the Neo-Assyrian royal theology.
38 See, esp., Enuma Eiish 6.34–35. The tradition that humankind was created to serve the gods, and thus free them from their onerous labor, is much older, however, as may be seen from Atraḫasis 1. 194–97:
194 You are the birth-goddess, creatress of mankind
195 Create Lullu that he may bear the yoke,
196 Let him bear the yoke assigned by Enlil,
197 Let man carry the toil of the gods!
(Lambert, W. G. and Millard, A. R., Atra-ḫasis [Oxford: Clarendon, 1969] 56–57).Google Scholar
39 The designation of the plants as food in vv 29–30 is a secondary and subordinate theme and differs in structure from the purpose clauses or compound sentences of vv 6, 9, 14–15, and 26. The specifications, “bearing seed” and “producing fruit,” in v 11 do not describe a purpose or function, but introduce the theme of fertility as a subtheme of the word about nature (see below).
40 The notion of task or function is suggested by the verbal form of the clause; the meaning of the verb itself, however, points to an emphasis on status and power as its primary message rather than exercise of a responsibility or function (see below).
41 P avoids, or counters, by this formulation not only the primitive notion of humankind “sprouting” from the ground (cf., e.g., “The Myth of the Pickax” and “The Myth of Enki and E-engurra”), but also the more elevated, but likewise unacceptable, notion of humanity as a mixture of earthly and divine substance (clay and blood [—or breath?]; cf. Atraḫasis, Enuma Elish [and Genesis 2]). Nor is adam conceived in this formulation as a fallen god, but rather by original design as the “God-like” one among the creatures.
42 Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 147. Cf. Westermann, Genesis, 196. That the blessing of the land animals is to be understood as included in the blessing given to adam seems unlikely in view of the expansion of the latter blessing to include the subjugation of the earth (wěkibšūhā). Equally unlikely is the notion that the land creatures receive their blessing through adam, or that they receive no blessing, since the “renewal” of the blessing after the flood addresses both classes—separately: Noah and sons in 9:1 and the animals in 8:17 (including birds as land-based creatures—a combination of classes treated as distinct in Genesis 1) (196). What this shows is a selective and flexible employment of categories and formulas, varied according to changing situations and need (e.g., omitting the sea creatures in 8:17).
43 König, Eduard, “Die Bedeutung des hebräischen mîn,” ZAW 31 (1911) 133–46.Google Scholar Cf. Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte 106–7, 123; Westermann, Genesis, 174–75. The differentia tion of plant and animal life into species or types does not find a correspondence in the sexual differentiation of humankind, described in v 27 (contra Schmidt, Schöpfungsge schichte, 107, n. 1). See below.
44 Cf. Maag, “Alttestamentliche Anthropogonie,” 39.
45 The terms used to describe each order and class are all singular collectives ([deše'], 'èśeb, ‘ēṣ, [šereṣ], nepeš ḩayyâ, 'ôp, běhēmâ, remeś, ḥayětô-'ereṣ, 'ādām) with the exception of tannînîm, a plural used to create a comparable class designation for the creatures of the sea. Each class is understood as an aggregate of species (mîn), which could conceivably be represented by individuals of each type (cf., e.g., Gen 2:19, where adam is a single individual—and also representative of the species). But the theme of reproductive endowment enunciated in the blessing assumes sexual differentiation and hence pairs as the minimal representation of each species. In fact, the image of a pair as the model of a species is so common that it needs no special articulation, especially in such a terse account. It is only where a particular need for clarification or emphasis arises that the assumption must be made explicit—as in 1:27, and 7:9 and 16. See below.
46 Maag's recognition of the polemical function of the repeated statement concerning the seed and his linking of this to the blessing of the creatures (“Alttestamentliche Anthropogonie” [1955] 39) seems to have been lost in the subsequent literature. I dis covered it only after arriving at a similar understanding. My characterization of the polemic (below) is admittedly overstated. I mean thereby to suggest implications, and possible ancient readings of the text, which lie below the surface message and may escape the modern reader.
47 The blessing of fertility, as Westermann correctly notes, is not a separate or supplemental act, but one which completes the act of creation for the living creatures (Genesis, 192). The reason that the power of reproduction is conveyed in a blessing and not simply described as a feature of their constitution, as in the case of the plants, may lie in a recognition that unlike the “automatic” reproduction of plants, animal reproduction is a matter not simply of design, but also of will or of power to realize its end. The blessing activates the latent capacity and directs it toward its goal.
48 So Westermann, Genesis, 220–21.
49 The na 'ăśen of v 26 has long troubled commentators mindful of the deliberateness and precision of P's language, especially in referring to the Deity. In view of the control exercised by P over the final composition and especially evident in the Wortbericht, the plural formulation cannot be regarded as a “slip” nor as an undigested remnant of tra dition. For though the expression depends ultimately upon the tradition of the divine council, in its Yahwistic and monotheistic adaptation, it appears also to have been selected by P as a means of breaking the direct identification between adam and God suggested by the metaphor of image, a way of blurring or obscuring the referent of the ṣelem. Cf. the ṣelem 'ělōhîm of v 27aβ, which has a similar function in respect to the preceding ṣalmo (see below). The plural 'ělōhîm has a useful ambiguity here (v 27). It is not, however, to be viewed as suggesting a collectivity of male and female deities to which the male-and- female adam would correspond (contra Loretz, Gottebenbildlichkeit, 68).
50 The specifying clause, “male and female he created them,” must not be understood as distinguishing humans from other creatures or as giving to human sexual distinction a special meaning. In the economy of the Priestly writer's account it is mentioned here only out of necessity (see below). The same specification, in the same terms, zākār ûněqěbâ, is made elsewhere with reference to the animals —and for a similar reason of clarification and emphasis. In the Priestly account of the flood story, the author wishes to make clear that the “two of every sort” of animals that are to be brought into the ark constitute a minimal pair, capable of reproduction, and thus he specifies, zākār ûněqēbâ yihyû (“they shall be male and female” [Gen 6:19]; cf. 7:9).
The Priestly writer has chosen his terms, as well as their placement, with care. Zākār and něqēbâ are biological terms, not social terms—as 'îš and 'iššâ in 2:22–24. Harmonizing of the creation accounts of Genesis 1 and 2 has affected the translation as well as the interpretation of the terms in 1:27, especially in the German tradition, where the rendering “Mann und Frau” (Westermann, Genesis, 108; Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 127, inter alios) or “Mann und Weib” (Gunkel, Genesis, 103; Zurich Bible, 1942; “Luther Bible,” rev. ed., 1964; inter alios) is common. Westermann seems to have fallen prey to the subtle persuasion of this traditional rendering, for despite his caution against overloading the interpretation of the clause, he avers: “Wohl aber ist hier ausgesagt, dass der zu zweit geschaffene Mensch sowohl im Verstehen menschlicher Existenz wie auch in den Ordnungen und den Institutionen des menschlichen Daseins als ein zur Gemeinschaft bestimmter gesehen werden muss” (Genesis, 221; emphasis added).
51 Most recent analyses of vv 26–28 recognize a complex history of growth resulting in repetitions, expansions, and substitutions in the present text. There is little concensus, however, about primary and secondary elements or stages of growth or editing. Conse quently, understandings of how the component parts fit together to make their statement differ considerably. E.g., Schmidt concludes that pre-P tradition is found only in vv 26–27a—and no longer in pristine form. Within this material he finds that 27a gives the impression of particular antiquity (Schöpfungsgeschichte, 148–49). Westermann sees the present text as overloaded with “repetitions” (including 26b and 27aβ as well as běṣalmô in 27aα), which he eliminates from his reconstructed text (Genesis, 198–99). The text which he creates by this surgery (“Lasst uns Menschen machen,/ nach unserem Bild, uns hnlich: //Und Gott schuf die Menschen,/ er schuf sie als Mann und Frau,” 198–99) is the text which Barth's exegesis requires, but which the MT with its deliberate qualifica tions does not allow.
I recognize, with most commentators, a history of growth in the tradition behind the present text, but I do not think the stages can be identified or isolated with any precision. 1 would regard the couplet in 27a as the work of a single author, more specifically, the final editor, and view the seemingly awkward or redundant běṣelem 'ělōhîm as a deliberate qualification of the preceding běṣalmô, perhaps employing a phrase from an earlier stage of the tradition. The repetition of běṣelem with its significant variation in 27aα and β has an important theological purpose. The reflexive singular suffix of 27aα requires that the image be referred directly to God, the sole and single actor, and not to a lower order of divine beings (contra Gunkel [Genesis, 98], inter alios). It thus “corrects” the impression of a plurality of deities which might be suggested by the plurals of v 26. But běṣelem ‘ělōhîm qualifies the masculine singular antecedent by repetition of the name, which in its third-person formulation gives both precision and distance to the self-reference. With its ambiguous plural form and its class connotation, 'ělôhîm serves, as the plurals of v 26, to blur the profile of the referent.
52 The shift from the collective singular ('δtô [“him”]) in the first colon to (collective) plural ('δtâm [“them”]) in the second is significant. The author relates the notion of the divine image only to an undifferentiated humanity as species or order and thus takes pains to use the singular pronoun in both clauses of 27 employing ṣelem, despite the fact that the plural has already been introduced in the verb (wěyirdû) of the preceding verse.
53 Contra Barth, who sees 27b as a “geradezu definitionsmässige Erklärung der Gottesebenbildlichkeit” (KD 3/1. 219). Cf. Trible (God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, 16–21), who finds in the parallelism of v 27 a metaphor in which “the image of God” is the tenor and “male and female” the vehicle (p. 17). This interpretation rests on a faulty syntactical analysis which isolates v 27 as a unit of speech/thought. The metaphor is the creation of the interpreter. Schmidt, who judged 27b a secondary addition on grounds of vocabulary, style, and meter, noted that apart from Gen 1:27 and 5:1–2 the themes of divine image and sexuality are associated nowhere else, either in the OT or in the ancient Near East (Schöpfungsgeschichte, 146–47). He failed to recognize, however, why the two are juxtaposed here.
54 Contra Anderson (“Human Dominion,” 43) and Trible (God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, 19), inter alios. Anderson rightly argues that “dominion is given to mankind as a whole,” finding in this collective understanding a clear expression of the “democratiza tion” of the royal motif (42). But then he explicates “mankind as a whole” to mean “man and woman.” “Here,” he notes, “the priestly view departs from royal theology in Egypt, for it is not said that Pharoah and his wife represent together the image of God.” Psalm 8 stands much closer to the royal theology, he argues, in that “'man’ is spoken of in the singular and no reference is made to male and female” (43). Both contrasts are false, however, since the specification of male and female relates neither to dominion nor to the image. The “Egyptian pattern” of male representation is continued unqualified in the biblical tradition of Genesis 1 as well as Psalm 8. See below.
55 When P moves from protohistory (creation) to “history” his view of humankind is limited to the male actor or subject. Thus adam becomes Adam and is renewed in Noah and his sons, not Noah and his wife. The blessing of fertility is addressed in 9:1 to the men alone, with no mention of the wives, who as necessary helpers in the task of main taining the species are explicitly noted in the enumeration of those entering the ark. The pointed reference to the unnamed wives of Noah and of his three sons in 7:7 and 7:13 has the same function as the specification of “male and female” in 1:27. This theme of reproductive capability also finds expression in the phrase, “other sons and daughters,” incorporated into the summarizing statement of each generation of P's otherwise all-male genealogical tables (5:4, 7, 10, 13, 16, 19, 22, 26, 30; 12:11, 13, 15, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25). The history in which P's theological interest lies is a history carried by males and em bodied in males. Females come into view only where the issue of biological continuity or reproduction is raised.
56 The expansion of the introduction in v 28 over the parallel in v 22 may be related to the expanded statement which it introduces. The repetitive wayyō'mer lāhem 'lōhîm following wayěbārek 'ōtām 'elōhîm, in place of the simple lēmōr of v 22, is usually explained in terms of emphasis and differentiation: in the case of adam, unlike the lower creatures, the divine word has become a word of address, an act of communication. But the twofold introduction may indicate an awareness that what follows is not simply blessing, but rather blessing together with a word conveying authority (Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 148–49).
57 Cf. Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 147; and Westermann, Genesis, 222.
58 Cf. Westermann, Genesis, 192–95; Schmidt, Schöpfungsgeschichte, 147–48.
59 P: Gen 1:22; 1:28; 8:17; 9:1; 9:7; [17:6 PRH alone (hiph.)]; 17:20 (hiph.); 28:3 (hiph.; Isaac as subject); 35:11; 47:27; 48:4 (hiph.); Exod 1:7. Dependent on P: Ps 105:24 (PRH hiph. + ‘ṢM hiph., reflecting Exod 1:7); Lev 26:9 (PRH hiph.); Exod 23:30 (PRH qal).
60 In extra-P usage, PRH, as a term for human and animal increase, is typically related to possession of (the) land and/or security against foes, with increase understood as the necessary condition or presupposition. Jer 3:16, 23:3 and Ezek 36:11 envision the increase of a remnant which shall again “fill” the land, while Exod 23:30 speaks of Israel's original possession of the land. All of the “historical” uses of PRH point to a future or restored Israel, closely associating the ideas of territorial possession and nationhood.
61 That the historical goal may be future as well as past (assuming a programmatic or eschatological dimension to the Priestly Work) does not change this assertion. The promise of P is not open ended. It envisions historical fulfillment.
62 The periodization of the Primeval History is overlooked by Lohhnk, when he sug gests that the blessing of 1:28 looks to the rise of the various nations and the settlement of their lands (“Seid fruchtbar,” 82). He is right, however, in stressing that the imperative of Gen 1:28 is not a general word for all time, but a word that belongs to the situation of origins (80). Thus neither the historic problems of underpopulation or overpopulation are relevant to the interpretation of this word.
The repetition of the blessing in 9:1 focuses on the human species alone, whose history now becomes the subject of the continuing account. This renewed blessing sets in motion the growth which leads to the rise of nations, in which the history of Israel is hidden.
63 The basic sense of the root KBŠ is “subdue, bring into bondage” (BDB; preferable to KB: “treten, niedertreten, drücken”). All uses of the qal, niphal and hiphil are exilic. The oldest usage is in 2 Sam 8:11, a piel, with king David as subject and haggôyīm (“the nations”) as object. While the image is forceful, attention is directed to the resultant state, as subdued, deprived of (threatening) power, hence “pacified,” controlled. Cf. Coats, George W., “The God of Death, Power and Obedience in the Primeval History” (Int 29 [1975] 227–39Google Scholar) esp. 229 (“render productive”); and Barr, “Man and Nature,” 63–64 (“work or till”). Most discussions of v 28 treat this clause under the heading of “dominion” and do not distinguish between KBš and RDH.
64 It is not repeated with the blessing to Noah after the flood, since the blessing there has a new and more limited function. The issue is no longer the preconditions of human life and culture but the history of the nations. See above.
65 Anderson sees this absence of the increase-subjugation motif as the clearest evidence for the independence of Psalm 8, but mistakenly links the theme of dominion to the blessing in Genesis 1 (“Human Dominion,” 36).
66 BDB gives as the basic meaning: “have dominion, rule [over …].” Cognate usage suggests a prevailing negative connotation: Aramaic, Syriac: “chastise”; Arabic: “tread, trample.” In OT usage the verb is often accompanied by qualifying expressions such as běperek or běḥozqâ (Lev 25:43, 46, 53; Ezek 34:4), bā'ap (Isa 14:6) or by parallel verbs such as NKH (hiph.; Isa 14:6), NŚ' (hithp.; Ezek 29:15), NGP (Lev 26:17), 'BD (Lev 25:46).
67 MŠL is not chosen here, though it is used to describe the function of the sun and moon in v 16.
68 1 Kgs 5:4; Ps 110:2; 72:8; Isa 14:6; 41:2.
69 Ezek 34:4; Lev 25:43, 46, 53.
70 I do not think that Lohfink's interpretation of RDH in Gen 1:26, 28 as “do mestication” of the animals (including fish and birds!) can be defended, though it rightly grasps the elements of superiority and constraint which color the biblical use of the term (“Seid fruchtbar,” 82). RDH is appropriate in this context to describe rule over those who are not of the same kind or order and who may be viewed in their created state as po tentially hostile. This is not the rule of a “brother” but of a stranger. Cf. Westermann, Genesis, 219–20.
71 See my limited attempt to do that in “Images of Women in the Old Testament” (Religion and Sexism, 41–88).
72 If the word “command” is too strong, it nevertheless correctly insists that the word is not simply permissive or optative. The questions which then arise are: whom is addressed and under what circumstances? Does it bind each individual? or pair? for all time? a reproductive lifetime? etc. Such questions make clear that this statement is insufficient as a guide to practice —if it is properly oriented to the historical situation at all.