Reclaiming the Imago Dei

Matthew 25:40 And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’

In more ways than we might think people who are enslaved to an addiction are ‘the least of these’ and are beloved children of God and members of Christ’s family. The idea that fills and radiates out of this verse is always with me as I work with people who struggle with mental health issues, addictions, and the effects of brokenness and betrayal in their life.

John[1] was one of my clients. He had murdered his best friend, was convicted of that murder, served time, put on conditional parole, and was now in my office seeking help as part of his early release deal. On paper he was being treated for substance use and our six-month goals were sobriety, weekly counseling, 12-Step participation, daily devotions, and employment, but John’s real issues were much deeper than his addiction—guilt, shame, grief, self-loathing—and his wounds were as fresh as the day he pulled the trigger 10 years earlier.

John was ‘street’ which meant he grew up in a place that was fought over and controlled by various gangs. His home life was troubled and unsafe; his drug use was learned and multi-generational, his parents coming in and out of the home for various incarcerations. He witnessed his first murder at 6 and gun fights were an almost daily occurrence.

John wasn’t a gang member, and he and his friend Jimmy navigated around becoming part of a gang because they hoped for something better, something more. John had grown up with Jimmy; they were best friends; they did everything together and stayed at the others home whenever things got tough at theirs. Like David and Johnathan, they had each other’s back (1 Samuel 18) and their souls were bound together in friendship.

Out partying one night, they got into a verbal altercation with another group that quickly turned physical and poured out into the street. The brawl exploded into gunfire, everyone was strapped, guns were drawn, shots fired, people scattered, Jimmy caught one from John’s gun, John ran to his friend, sat on the asphalt, pulled him into his arms and held him as he died in the middle of the streets where they grew up. Losing Jimmy and being the reason for his death was a wound that wouldn’t heal, a guilt that could not be redeemed in a prison cell.

Tears poured from John’s eyes as he shared his story, and it was a while before he was able to speak. I sat with him in his weeping and grief, honored to be in his sacred space and praying God into the whole of his story and my ability to care for one of the least of these.

What God gave me was a vision of John as God had desired him to be when He knit him in his mother’s womb; I saw his Imago Dei or at least the parts God needed me to see.

Genesis 1:26 Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”

“I can’t…I can’t…I can’t…I just want this to end. I miss him so much.”

Now all God had to do was give me the right words.

When John lifted his head and we made eye contact, I said, “John, I hear you…I see you…I am with you…I got your back…and you are forgiven. I am gonna be with you on this difficult and painful journey.”

Somehow God was able to fill my words with His grace, mercy, and forgiveness, and I could tell John was hearing exactly what he needed. Like food to the hungry, water to the thirsty, welcome to the stranger, clothes to the naked, a visit to the sick or imprisoned my words were a balm to John’s wound. He somehow knew he wasn’t alone or abandoned or rejected or condemned.

John’s journey changed radically that day from dues that he had to pay to placate the court into a journey of redemption and restoration. For six months we walked together through it all. We worked through drug use and denial, life skills and 12 Step work, trauma and abuse, relapse prevention and prayer, grief and job applications... John stuck with it, he got a sponsor, completed his step work, became a devoted follower of Jesus Christ and got a job and started his newly redeemed life. And I was blessed in the knowledge that what I did “to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

[1] Real client, story used with permission, their name has been changes.