I. The Quest for an African Identity
Africans have long been engaged in a quest for identity, an identity that affirms their inherent humanity and honors their historical and ongoing contributions to society. This pursuit has been significantly shaped by the devastating impact of colonialism, which did not merely involve the occupation of land or the extraction of resources but also entailed the systematic dehumanization of African peoples. Colonial powers worked to erase dignity, distort identity, and deny the sacredness of African lives, treating individuals as commodities to be used and discarded. This has long been acknowledged as a major issue that dehumanized the African people. Ali Mazrui, a respected Kenyan professor, identified various issues that shaped Africa identity: “Christianity, Western liberal democracy, urbanization, Western capitalism, the rules of Western science and the rules of Western art.”1 Tite Tiénou identifies “Western domination and domestication” as two prominent factors shaping African identity.2 Emmanuel Katongole aptly observes, the African body and life are still often not regarded as “unique, precious, [and] sacred” but rather as “mere bodies to be used, mere masses to be exploited.”3
The quest for an African identity is, at its core, a pursuit of Africanness, a search for meaning, belonging, and dignity in the lived experience of being African, both on the continent and in the diaspora. “Africanness,” as Kofi Appiah describes, is “the desire for authenticity and the struggle to redress the state of alienation that resulted from the historical experiences of cultural domination, slavery and colonialism in Africa. In this sense, Africanness directs our attention to the complex web of issues involved in the African struggle for the rehabilitation and integral liberation of Africans, as basic topics of African theology.”4 And as Appiah rightly contends, this quest remains a theological quest. Mercy Oduyoye also calls us to “explore anew our human Be-ing and to affirm each one’s mode of being human.”5
In response to this dehumanizing legacy, various political, philosophical, and theological movements and ideologies have emerged seeking to reassert African humanity and agency. These include Négritude, Pan-Africanism, the African Renaissance, and a range of contextual theologies, such as South African Black Theology, African Liberation Theology, and Bosadi (womanist/feminist) theologies mainly advanced by the Circle of Concerned African Women Theologians, an organization founded by Professor Mercy Amba Oduyoye in 1989. These movements have reread Scripture and reimagined theology in ways that affirm the human worth and dignity of African peoples, offering creative and liberative responses to historical and contemporary oppression.
This paper contributes to that broader theological discourse by examining anthropological conceptions of humanity found within African cultures and contributing to theological anthropology. While traditional African worldviews may not affirm humanity in terms of the imago dei, they nonetheless affirm human worth, sacredness, and relational identity. This study explores how African understandings of what it means to be human can meaningfully interact with, and even enrich, Christian theological reflections on the image of God. But first, a brief overview of the biblical concept of the image of God and the three proposals advanced around it.
II. The Biblical Concept of the Imago Dei
The biblical affirmation that human beings are created in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:26–27) lies at the heart of Christian theological anthropology. While the phrase appears explicitly only a few times in the Old Testament (Gen. 5:1; 9:6) and is alluded to in Psalm 8:4–6, the New Testament expands the theme in significant ways. It refers to humans as God’s image (1 Cor. 11:7; James 3:9), identifies Jesus Christ as the perfect image (eikōn) of God (2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3), and affirms the restoration of that image in believers (Rom. 8:29; Eph. 4:22–24; Col. 3:10, among others). The Apocrypha also testifies to the image motif, notably in Wisdom 2:23–24 and Ecclesiasticus 17:1–12.
Despite its theological centrality, the meaning of the “image” and “likeness” of God remains the subject of interpretive ambiguity and theological debate. The ambiguity in the usage of these terms has led to a wide spectrum of interpretations, particularly concerning the nature, location, and endurance of the divine image in human beings, especially post Genesis 3. Theologians have debated whether the image is substantial (based on something inherent in humanity), relational (based on relationship), functional (based on vocation and dominion), or Christological (centered in Jesus as the image). The theological significance of the imago dei has shaped convictions about human dignity, the quest for justice, and more.
III. Three Perspectives of the Imago Dei in Christian Theology
In Basic Christian Ethics (1950), Paul Ramsey identified two major perspectives that have shaped Western interpretation of the imago dei. These are the substantial and the relational views.6
Substantialist View
The substantial view, also termed “substantialist”7 or “structuralist,”8 locates the image of God in certain inherent features or faculties within human nature. According to Ramsey, this view “singles out something within the substantial form of human nature, some faculty or capacity man [sic] possesses, and identifies this as the thing which distinguishes man [sic] from physical nature and from other animals.”9 Patristic and medieval theologians emphasized reason as the primary substance in which the divine image resides. However, other attributes were also highlighted across the centuries, including conscience, aesthetic sense, dominion, emotional capacities, spiritual awareness, original righteousness, immortality, freedom, personhood, and moral capacity. The identified “substance” or “faculty” are seen as a mark or a stamp of the imago dei in humanity.
This substantialist interpretation dominated much of Western Christian theology for centuries, and it was reason that became the locus of the imago Dei in Western scholarship. As David Cairns affirms, “In all the Christian writers up to Aquinas we find the image of God conceived of as man’s power to reason.”10 Douglas Hall adds:
The notion that it is human reason that constitutes Homo Sapiens, God’s earthly imago, is so firmly entrenched in the convention of Christendom that it is hardly possible for anyone who is part of the intellectual stream of our culture to read Genesis 1:26–27 without immediately and subconsciously assuming that the ancient Hebraic author’s phrase “image of God” specifically referred to the rational capacities of the human creature.11
The deep entrenchment of this interpretation can be traced to the Western Church’s long-standing engagement with Hellenistic philosophical traditions, Jewish anthropology, and theological categories shaped by classical understandings of personhood and metaphysics. But many theologians have identified several weaknesses of this view, including its possibility to dehumanize people living with profound mental disabilities.12
The Functional View
A second major perspective on the imago dei emphasizes the God-given mandate of dominion and responsibility over creation. This “functional view” has theological roots in the Antiochene Fathers such as Diodore of Tarsus, John Chrysostom, Theodore of Mopsuestia, Nestorius, and Theodoret, who underscored human vocation and agency rather than innate capacities.
Richard Middleton, a key contemporary proponent of this view, defines the image of God as humanity’s calling to be “God’s representatives and agents in the world, granted authorized power to share in God’s rule or administration of the earth’s resources and creatures.”13 To image God, in this perspective, is to faithfully carry out the divine commission of stewardship—nurturing, protecting, and cultivating the created world.
The functional view finds support in both biblical exegesis and Ancient Near Eastern context. Biblical scholars draw attention to the structure of Genesis 1:26, where the phrases “in our image” and “let them rule” are closely linked. The inference is that the divine image is expressed through the function of dominion, commonly referred to as creation mandate.14 This mandate encompasses both ecological stewardship and culture making, where human beings are viewed as co-creators with God mandated to nurture God’s beautiful but fallen creation.
Reformed theologians particularly have been inspired by John Calvin’s assertion that creation is “a mirror, a painting, and a theater of the divine glory.”15 Even in a fallen world, this cultural engagement reflects God’s ongoing presence in human creativity and activity and is a constant invitation to human beings to act responsibly and honorably, together, for the sake of the earth.16
The functional view draws its support also from Ancient Near Eastern texts, especially Sumerian, Babylonian, and Egyptian sources that describe kings as being made in the image of their gods.17 In those cultures, kings functioned as divine representatives or viceroys. However, Genesis democratizes this royal imaging, extending image bearing to all humanity; all people, not just kings, are images of God and are God’s viceroys.18 Thus, embodied humanity is authorized to exercise delegated power on earth on God’s behalf.
Despite the functional view’s biblical and historical strengths, it raises concerns in relation to people with disabilities. If rulership or cultural productivity becomes the central marker of the divine image, then individuals who cannot visibly exercise such capacities, particularly those with profound intellectual or physical disabilities, risk being marginalized or devalued.19
Scholars have responded to this critique by clarifying that ruling/dominion is not the image itself, but a result of being made in God’s image. In this nuanced understanding, the ability to steward creation flows from the imago rather than defining it. Additionally, the emphasis has shifted from individual agency to corporate responsibility: humanity as a collective shares in the stewardship of creation. Within this communal framework, all people—regardless of ability—are intrinsically valuable and participate, together, in the divine mandate. This opens the way to the next view, which further develops the communal and relational dimensions of the imago dei.
The Relational View
A third and increasingly influential, though not necessarily new perspective, understands the imago dei as relational. Unlike the substantial view, which locates the image of God in individual, inherent qualities such as reason or will, the relational view emphasizes that the divine image is realized through dynamic, active relationships: with God, with fellow human beings, and with the created order. This approach challenges the individualistic orientation of much of Western theology and instead affirms a communal and holistic anthropology. Human beings bear God’s image not as isolated individuals but as persons-in-relationship. This view resonates deeply with African worldviews that value community, interdependence, and relational identity over isolated individualism.
Martin Luther (1483–1546), while rooted in some substantialist traditions, contributed significantly to the development of this relational understanding. He acknowledged that reason was an important aspect of human uniqueness, stating that it was the “chief part” of humanity and what elevates humans above animals.20 However, Luther went beyond the notion of mere noetic capacities. In his Disputatio de homine (1536), he asserted that the imago dei was ultimately expressed in the original holiness and perfect relationship human beings had with God before the Fall. For Luther, the image was not just about intellectual faculties but about something “far more distinguished and excellent,” namely, faith, love of God, and zeal for holiness.21 He believed that while humans retained their rational faculties after the Fall, they lost the relational dimension of the image. Thus, the gospel becomes essential, not merely to inform the intellect but to restore communion with God through grace.22 This relational loss and its potential for restoration underscores the theological importance of community in Luther’s thought: Humans are created for a vibrant, faithful relationship with God and one another.
John Calvin (1509–1564) also affirmed a relational view of the imago dei, especially as it pertains to the redemptive work of Christ. Calvin situated his theological anthropology around humanity’s creation, fall, and redemption. His Institutes of the Christian Religion23 are structured to reflect this: Book I.15 discusses the original creation of humanity; Books II.1–3 explore the fall; and Books III.3–10 focus on regeneration and restoration in Christ. Calvin’s chief concern was not to speculate about the essence of the image but to show how it is renewed in Christ through the Holy Spirit. For Calvin, the image of God is fully restored only in Christ, the image of God (cf. Col 1:15), and renewed progressively in believers through sanctification. Theological anthropology, then, is intrinsically Christological. As Wilhelm Niesel (1956) and B. A. Gerrish (1981) argue, Calvin bound his understanding of human nature tightly to Christ’s redemptive work.24
Calvin’s relational emphasis becomes even more apparent in his critical engagement with previous views of the imago dei. He rejected anthropomorphite ideas that located the image in the physical body25 as well as mystical or speculative views, such as Andreas Osiander’s “essential righteousness”26 and other views, which he deemed erroneous.27 Importantly, he dismissed the idea that dominion alone constituted the image, criticizing Chrysostom’s reduction of the imago dei to functional stewardship.28 For Calvin, dominion is not the image itself but rather a consequence of being made in God’s image. He emphasized the necessity of communion with God for the realization of human vocation. Calvin saw the imago dei as inherently tied to humanity’s covenantal relationship with God—an image marred by sin but restored in Christ, the second Adam.29 Through this restoration, humanity regains its original righteousness, in which human beings reflect the glory of God through sound reason, rightly ordered affections, and the excellence of the divine gifts bestowed by the Creator.30
The relational understanding of the image of God is also grounded in the role of Christ as a restorer and an enabler of humanity as God intended. Humanity is thus defined in relation to Christ, the “true humanity,”31 the “perfect realization of true humanity,”32 and “what human nature is intended to be.”33 What this means is that the image of God is most fully revealed in Jesus Christ. Stanley Grenz wrote:
Consequently, the humankind created in the divine image is none other than the new humanity conformed to the imago Christi, and the telos toward which the Old Testament creation narrative points is the eschatological community of glorified saints who have joined their head in resurrection life by the power of the Spirit.34
In other words, the imago Dei finds its fulfillment not in humanity as it is, but in what humanity is becoming in Christ.
Grenz’s Christocentric framework does more than merely redefine the image of God through Christ; it also emphasizes the communal and ecclesial dimension of human identity. For Grenz, the purpose of humanity’s creation in God’s image was to live in communion with God through Jesus Christ. This relational identity leads to what he calls an “ecclesial self”—a self formed not in isolation but in relationship with others in the body of Christ, the church.35 The church, then, becomes the visible expression of the new humanity conformed in and by Christ, embodying the imago dei in concrete and practical ways. The community of believers becomes the space where God’s image is restored and lived out through worship, discipleship, justice, reconciliation, and mutual love. Now, away from Western thinkers. Let’s see what Africa offers.
IV. The African Contribution to the Doctrine of the Image of God
African traditional anthropology has no concept of the image of God. J. N. K. Mugambi offers insights that help explain why African anthropology traditionally lacks a developed concept of the imago dei, although his discussion primarily focuses on African traditional religious heritage rather than directly addressing the doctrine itself. He writes, “African religious and philosophical heritage is characteristically based on physical experimental perception rather than on mystical contemplation.”36 According to traditional African communities, a human being is simply a person in community surrounded by other beings. Community includes God (the Supreme Being), the living dead, humans, the yet-to-be-born, and natural creation.37
Even though African religious heritage lacks a notion of the image of God, the concepts of “vital force” (life force), “ubuntu,” and “utu” among others, correlate with the notion of the image of God in some ways.
Imago Dei in the Context of Vital Force
Placide Tempels made a pioneering contribution to the study of Bantu cosmology in his 1945 work La Philosophie Bantoue, later translated into English as Bantu Philosophy. In it, he expounds on the Bantu existential concept of “vital force,” which he identifies as the central organizing principle of Bantu cosmology.38 He asserts, “In the minds of Bantu, all beings in the universe possess vital force of their own: human, animal, vegetable, or inanimate. Each being has been endowed by God with a certain force, capable of strengthening the vital energy of the strongest being of all creation: man.”39
Vital force is permanent and irreversible; “Existence which comes from God cannot be taken from a creature by any created force.”40 To Tempels, God is the source of this “vital force,” which animates and empowers human life. Without God’s supply of life’s vital force, human life is empty. God is the “power source” of human existence because God is “he who possesses Force in himself.”41 Furthermore, he argues that vital force is the very essence of being. “Force is the nature of being, force is being, being is force.”42 Life in this sense, is a dynamic increase or decrease of vital forces.
Every human being possesses vital force in different intensities but because of interdependence, people combine their vital forces for meaningful existence.43 William Dyrness and Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen agree with Tempels that African people view reality from the lenses of power.
The goal of human life for Africans is the promotion of one’s vital powers, whether through the expansion of the family or by the fertility of crops and animals. The spirits are enlisted to promote this expansion of life and its endowments — prayers, sacrifices, oblations are offered in pursuit of this goal.44
Thus, from this outlook, human beings as they are, in their sinful and broken nature, need power to overcome their condition. From a Christian perspective, this empowerment is only through Christ by the Holy Spirit.
Thus, applying Tempels’s view of vital force to the doctrine of the image of God yields a view of the image of God as communion with God for human empowerment. To be God’s image bearer is to commune with God, which then empowers people to exercise their God-given mandate of being God’s representatives and agents in the world. It is in communion with God that humans are shaped into beings that faithfully exercise their God-given mandate of being God’s representatives on earth. Also, as Tempels shows, though vital force is unique to an individual, existence is about interdependence; the goal of communion with God is not the production of self-autonomous empowered individuals but an empowered community of faith. It is in community that humans fulfil their God-given mandate of glorifying God. Empowered individuals, together, become empowered communities. However, although the concept of vital force is embraced in African philosophy and religion, it is insufficient because of its Western Aristotelian (philosophical) import.45 Ubuntu is more prominent because it is praxis oriented.
Imago Dei in the Context of Ubuntu: I Am Human Because I Belong
The term “ubuntu” is a Bantu ontological noun describing the essence of being human. It is the belief that to be human is to be in communion with God, fellow human beings, the nonhuman creation, and the spiritual world. To be human is to be with. It is not the Western “I think therefore I am” but “I am human because I belong.”46 I am known. I have a family. I am familiar with and for community. For the African people, each person’s humanity is recognizable in community. Bishop Tutu asserts, “Our humanity is caught up in that of all others. We are human because we belong. We are made for community, for togetherness, for family, to exist in a delicate network of interdependence.”47 Thus, Tutu says, “In Africa when you ask someone ‘How are you?’ the reply you get is in the plural even when you are speaking to one person.”48 Likewise, John Mbiti observes that the African view of humanity can be summarized in the aphorism, “I am, because we are; and since we are, therefore I am.”49 As Mercy Oduyoye observes, “It is only in community that our humanity means anything.”50
Because of the high value placed on harmony between humanity and nature in African thought—and the way ubuntu is understood within this context—it is crucial to conceive of the image of God not as a mark that separates humanity from nature, but as a designation of interrelatedness. The imago dei points not to isolation from the created order, but to a relational vocation within it. John Calvin’s threefold understanding of nature—as the theater of God’s glory, the living image of God, and the beautiful garment of God—is helpful in articulating this interconnectedness, even though Calvin himself did not explore the image-bearing quality of nature in depth. Rather, he affirmed that God’s glory shines forth through creation.
The African worldview not only emphasizes the sacredness of human life but also affirms the sacredness of nature as God’s creation. Through the “doctrine” of ubuntu, African traditional heritage recognizes the holiness of the visible and invisible world. In Kalenjin culture, for instance, sacred spaces such as kapkoros were designated for the worship of God, yet the entire earth was often regarded as holy ground, and to distort it or to misuse it comes with great penalties and destruction. Moreover, Africans view humans as having a priestly role in their relationship with nature. John Mbiti articulates this well when he writes: “African Religion recognizes clearly that, if man abuses nature, in return nature will strike back at him. In this case man is not a master over nature to treat it as he wishes. Instead, man is the priest towards nature—soliciting its kindness and expressing respect towards it.”51 This view aligns with a biblical theology of stewardship and calls for a renewed ecological ethic grounded in relational responsibility and reverence for creation.
It is important to note that ubuntu is not uniquely African. It is a human attribute. All human beings have ubuntu (are relational in nature). In Imaging God, Douglas Hall succinctly captures this reality: “Simply in our being there we are being-in-relationship; our sheer existing points beyond itself. We are creatures whose being implies relatedness. The solitary, isolated, self-sufficient human being—the ‘self-made man’ that still exists for us as a rhetorical ideal—is, in fact, a contradiction in terms. To be, to be-in-the-world, is to be with.”52
However, while the principles of ubuntu resonate with universal human values—as illustrated in the preceding reflections—their practical expression often contrasts sharply with prevailing Western frameworks of personhood. The Western world, shaped significantly by philosophical and theological traditions, tends to emphasize individualism over community. In his seminal work Communion and Otherness, Orthodox theologian John Zizioulas highlights this trajectory, observing: “Ever since Boethius in the fifth century identified the person with the individual … and St. Augustine at about the same time emphasized the importance of … self-consciousness in the understanding of personhood, Western thought has never ceased to build itself and its culture on this basis.”53 Zizioulas’s assertion regarding individualism in the West is a major point of departure between Western cultures and African cultures. African cultures emphasize communion or community as a precondition for existence, while the West tends to emphasize individual existence.
While ubuntu offers a compelling communal vision of what it means to be human, it is not without its weaknesses. In practice, ubuntu is often interpreted through narrow, ethnocentric lenses, reducing its rich anthropological and theological depth. Rather than embracing the broader human family, some communities confine ubuntu to kinship ties, clans, or ethnic boundaries. This constriction distorts its foundational intent, turning a life-affirming ideal into an exclusive endowment for the in-group. The result is the marginalization of “outsiders” and the reinforcement of ethnocentrism, clannism, and even racism. These realities contradict the imago dei and the affirmation of community.
Furthermore, when ubuntu is overemphasized as a purely communal value, it may suppress individual autonomy and responsibility. Community becomes a source of conformity rather than flourishing. In some African contexts, communal solidarity is manipulated by ruling elites who exploit ethnic loyalties to secure political power, often to the detriment of national unity and justice. Such exploitation can fuel electoral violence, entrench systemic corruption, and mask wrongdoing as communal loyalty thus shielding even perpetrators of injustice.
Additionally, the virtue of hospitality, deeply embedded in the African spirit of ubuntu, can be problematic. In urban settings, for instance, families may feel compelled to host extended relatives from rural areas indefinitely, sometimes at great emotional and economic cost. This pressure, rooted in fear of offending communal expectations, reveals how communal obligations can undermine the dignity and well-being of the individual.
Further, for African evangelical Christians, it is important to discern communion of saints in the contexts of ancestor veneration and worship. The ninth article of the Apostles’ Creed—communio sanctorum or the “communion of saints”—resonates deeply with many African cultural frameworks that uphold an active relationship between the living and the departed, often referred to as the “living dead” and ancestors. In African thought, the departed continue to be honored and respected, regardless of whether they fully lived up to communal ideals. This inclusive understanding of communion—one that graciously embraces both the “saints” and the “sinners” of the community—offers a compelling resource for developing a theology of the community of grace.
In the African worldview, identity and belonging are not severed by death. Similarly, Hebrews 12 affirms the presence of a “great cloud of witnesses” who surround the living faithful. This imagery suggests that the Christian community extends beyond the visible church to include those who have gone before us. The challenge—and opportunity—for African Christians is to discern how this communion can be affirmed theologically without falling into the practice of ancestor worship. How might Christians faithfully affirm spiritual solidarity with the departed saints without attributing to them divine status or worship? How can we acknowledge that the church is not limited to the living, but includes those in glory? These are pertinent questions as we seek to build a theological anthropology rooted in the image of God that affirms the humanity of the living and an honoring of those who have departed.
An imago dei theology from the African context calls us to affirm both community and individuality, both hospitality and justice, both belonging and accountability, both the living and the dead. Moreover, it compels us to critique any conceptualizations of the imago dei that limits it to one’s kin and tribe. We must act human to all regardless of their ethnic or clan roots. This is where our reflection now turns.
Imago Dei in the Context of Utu: I Am Human Because I Am Humane
“Utu” is a Swahili term that captures the essence of humanness—the call to act in ways that reflect the dignity of being human. It is not simply about being biologically human but about living in a manner that affirms one’s humanity and the humanity of others. As Archbishop Desmond Tutu explains, a person with ubuntu is generous, hospitable, friendly, caring, and compassionate.54 In this sense, to be human is to act humanely.
Though community plays a formative role in shaping an individual’s identity through naming ceremonies, rites of passage, and the inculcation of discipline, it ultimately falls to the individual to choose whether to embody and practice the virtues that define true humanness. Ubuntu presents human life not as a static condition but as a dynamic journey toward becoming more fully human.55 One grows in utu (humanness) as one treats others with dignity and respect. In this view, to act with compassion, justice, and kindness is not merely to perform good deeds; it is to participate in the unfolding of one’s own humanity. Thus, ubuntu aligns with the imago dei, calling each person into a lifelong becoming humanity as God intended.56
For many African communities, a person regains and retains their noble status as a bearer of ubuntu only through the actualization of utu (agency). One becomes fully umuntu (a true human being) by treating others as abantu (fellow humans), not as infintu (objects or things).57 Humanity, therefore, is a calling to live in ways that honor the dignity of others. This sacred view of human life aligns with the biblical affirmation that all people are created in the image of God and thus deserve honor and respect. Human beings are not to be used, exploited, or abused. Among the Kalenjin people of Kenya, this ethos of hospitality and generosity is deeply rooted. A well-known proverb captures it beautifully: makiwong’u che eng sot—“Never drink all the milk; spare some for the stranger.” Such wisdom underscores that true humanness is demonstrated in care for others, especially the vulnerable and the outsider.
However, not all people act in ways that reflect true humanness. In African contexts, those who harm others or commit acts of cruelty are often considered inhuman—exhibiting brutality—or even unhuman, behaving in ways likened to animals. Among the Kalenjin people, such individuals are described as sorin (sorik), meaning “evil people,” or bik che matinye koroti, “people without human blood.” This moral judgment is captured in the proverb: Ma chi chi nengero ko chi ama chi: “A person is not a person who does not act like a person.” In this worldview, being human is not a mere biological status but a moral and relational identity; one must act humanely to be considered fully human.
Yet, while such individuals may be perceived as having lost their humanness through their actions, their inhumanity does not obliterate their ubuntu. Like the imago dei and the concept of vital force, ubuntu is understood as a permanent and irreducible essence of human life. Though human actions may obscure or distort this divine image, they cannot fully erase it. The sacred imprint remains, dimmed perhaps, but not destroyed. This theological insight affirms that even those who commit evil retain the potential for restoration, for to be human is not only a state but a calling to return to the fullness of what one was created to be.58
Imaging the Triune God: The African Contribution
Christians affirm the doctrine of the Trinity: God exists as a communion of three Persons (the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit). This communal nature of God confirms that imaging God should be interpreted as imaging the triune God. Thomas Smail argues:
Being in the image of God is to be understood as a mirroring of the Father, a mirroring of the Son and a mirroring of the Holy Spirit, so that to be authentically human means to reflect in our relationships, firstly, the specific relationship that the Father has with the Son, secondly, the specific relationship that the Son has with the Father, and thirdly, the specific relationship that the Spirit has with the Father and the Son.59
The African indigenous worldview lends weight to this imaging the triune God. In fact, it can be argued that the African traditional cosmology readily accommodates a doctrine of the Trinity. Three aspects support this assertion.
First, indigenous African peoples believed that though God is alone in the sense of being the Supreme Being; God is never alone—God is surrounded by other divinities. These divinities are the personifications of the Supreme Being. Dr. Kipkoech Sambu, a Kalenjiin scholar, confirmed to me through email that the Kalenjiin worshiped Asiis, the god associated with the sun, “who manifested herself in three persons: Asiis, Ileet ne myee, and Ileet ne ya. Ileet ne myee was the bringer of rain and rumbled until rain came while Ileet ne ya flashed with his forked sword, killing all and sundry on its path. Occasionally Ileet ne ya restored justice by killing thieves and destroying or exposing the ill-gotten wealth. So the Kalenjiin Trinity was complete with two natures of the Creator: good and evil.”60 God has his own community (divinities/gods, spirits, and ancestors), and God is generous to include humans into this community. A. Okechukwu Ogbonnaya observes, “The centrality of community and the fundamentality of relatedness undergird the concept of the Divine as community in African contexts.”61 This “communion of God” or communotheism62 paradigm in African cosmology may lend some weight to the doctrine of the image of God as communion with God, God’s people, and God’s world.
Second, indigenous African peoples believed in a form of divine unity: “The gods are not separated from one another but are connected by virtue of their common Divinity or nature, which they derive from the all-pervasive force that is their common substance.”63 Human beings are connected by virtue of being created in the image of God, although humans will not exist perfectly the way the divine Three exist.
Third, African understandings of relationship are fundamentally triadic rather than simply dyadic. While dyadic relationships focus on the interaction between two individuals—face-to-face and often limited in scope—triadic relationships assume the possibility of a third presence.64 This triadic notion reflects a deeply rooted belief in interconnectedness: that every relationship is part of a broader web of communal existence. It expands the idea of community beyond the nuclear family to encompass the extended family, the clan, the society, and ultimately, the entire human race.
This triadic worldview is not merely social but also theological. Whereas Western thought often begins with the individual and moves outward toward community, African thought begins with communion/community as the starting point from which individual identity and value are derived. This perspective offers rich insight for Christian theology—particularly for understanding the Trinity. Just as African anthropology emphasizes community before the individual, Trinitarian theology begins not with isolated divine Persons but with the communion of the triune God. From this unity-in-relationship, the unique roles of Father, Son, and Spirit are revealed. Thus, the African triadic orientation offers more than cultural insight; it provides a theological lens through which to articulate a relational doctrine of God and of humanity.
V. Implications of the Imago Dei for the Sanctity of Life
Returning to where we began, the quest for African identity and dignity is deeply rooted in the affirmation of the African’s vital force, ubuntu, and utu, all understood within the framework of the biblical truth that Africans, like all people, are created in the imago dei. This integrated vision offers a powerful framework for confronting the pervasive problem of dehumanization on the African continent and in the diaspora. It affirms that to be human is to possess inherent worth, relational responsibility, and sacred value, gifts that no system of oppression, marginalization, or exploitation can erase. This is an important affirmation given that the African person has historically existed and continues to live amid persistent forces of dehumanization: colonial subjugation, systemic poverty, ethnic violence, and political exploitation.
In Disposable Futures: The Seduction of Violence in the Age of Spectacle, Brad Evans and Henry A. Giroux highlight a disturbing global reality: the reduction of human beings to “dead weight”—disposable lives treated as if they were commodities, no more valuable than waste.65 Across the globe, people are often valued not for their inherent dignity but for their utility as laborers, consumers, voters, or mere tools in political campaigns. This utilitarian view erodes the sacredness of human life.
Writing specifically about African youth, Ali Mazrui lamented their objectification within global capitalist structures, noting that they are often “pawns in a bourgeois chess game; almost never real players in that game.”66 His words capture the tragic reality of systemic dehumanization that treats young people not as full participants in shaping their destiny but as tools to serve the ambitions of others.
This commodification of human life is not a modern phenomenon. In the biblical narrative, the Israelites under Pharaoh’s rule experienced a similar fate: Valued solely for their labor, their humanity was disregarded, and their lives rendered disposable. As Walter Brueggemann observed, “When their work was done, their lives were dispensable”; they were viewed as mere property, to be used and discarded at will.67 Brueggemann is right to urge believers to disrupt “what has become ‘normal’ in the modern world” that is, that “cheap labor is expendable, subject to whatever abuse, oppression, or disregard that might be required by the ownership class in its commitment to surplus wealth through cheap labor.”68
In light of this, the theological affirmation of the imago dei and the resources available in African cultures offers a counternarrative to systemic dehumanization. No human is disposable. Every human being without exception is created in the image of God and should be honored as such.
