Made in the Disk Image of God ... Random ADHD thoughts while preaching

Last Sunday, I was preaching for Disability Awareness Sunday, reflecting on what it means to be made in the image of God. Mid-service, after a hearing the reading from Genesis about being made in God's image, I found myself thinking about computers, disk drives, and disk images, and whether humans could be made in the disk image of God. It may sound like a strange connection, but over the past few weeks, I’ve been setting up a home server and experimenting with disk images to make restoring my system easier when things inevitably go wrong. The parallels between technology and theology intrigued me: just as a disk image preserves the integrity of a computer system, being made in the image of God preserves something essential in every human, even amid the messiness of life. I was able to push the idea to the side so I could finish the service, but the idea has stuck with me, so I thought I would share it here to see how people responded.

As I mentioned earlier, over the last couple of weeks, I have been experimenting with setting up a home server for data and photo storage. This has meant a lot of experimenting with disk drives and, inevitably, making mistakes. To make recovery easier, I’ve been using disk images, which are essentially complete snapshots of a computer’s hard drive. They preserve everything: the operating system, programs, files, and settings. If something goes wrong, I can restore the system to that earlier, fully functional state without starting from scratch. It’s a practical way to preserve what is essential even amid errors and chaos.

This idea of preserving what is essential brought Irenaeus to mind. I’ve been discovering his work as part of preparation for seminars on church history, and he has some interesting ideas about what it means to be made in the image of God. For Irenaeus (c. 130–200 CE), the “image” of God refers to the basic humanity shared by all people: reason, freedom, and the capacity for relationship with God. This image is never lost, even after the Fall. The “likeness” of God, by contrast, refers to our growth into holiness and communion with God, a gift of the Spirit that can be diminished or restored. After sin, humanity retains the image but loses the likeness; through Christ and the Spirit, the likeness can be renewed, leading humanity toward its true destiny in Christ, the perfect Image of the Father.

The parallel with disk images is striking. Just as a disk image preserves the core structure of a computer, the image of God preserves the essential dignity of every person, even when life has corrupted the system. And just as a disk image can restore functionality, the likeness of God in us can be renewed. The image is present in every person, cloned across countless “hardware” variations, from cultures to abilities to histories, reminding us that God’s presence is reflected diversely throughout creation. At the same time, a disk image can be misused or damaged, highlighting that the divine image in humanity, while never lost, can be distorted by sin or oppression. Yet, even in corruption, restoration is possible.

In the same way that a disk image preserves the essential structure of a computer, the divine image in humanity preserves our fundamental dignity, even when sin or oppression (is there a difference?) has corrupted our “system.” And just as a disk image can be restored or replicated, the likeness of God in us can be renewed and nurtured through Christ and the Spirit. This metaphor underscores a central truth of disability theology: every human being, in all their diversity, carries the divine image and is capable of growth, restoration, and flourishing. Both technology and theology point to the hope that what is essential can be preserved, restored, and celebrated in every person.

However, like all metaphors, this does have its limits: God’s image in us is not mere technological cloning, but a mystery of relationship and participation. Perhaps there is also something here about the importance of being part of a network and connected to other copies of that divine image. Possibly a reflection for another time.