This leads us into another aspect of the debate surrounding this command, namely how it relates to religious art, especially when it is used didactically in contexts where there is low literacy. Rather, where they have been used, it is with a view to instructing those who are too young to think in the abstract and who instinctively concretise the concepts communicated to them. So, as we relate this command to the use of images of Jesus for the benefit of children, we should note they are not intended either as objects of worship or aids to worship for the very young. God will not allow the worship his people offer him to be shaped and moulded by the prevailing religious fashions of their day. And, of course, this has also been an enduring issue for God’s people in whatever culture they have found themselves through the centuries. The ‘how’ of worship was especially relevant to the Israelite community emerging, as it was, from four centuries surrounded by the idol-worship of Egypt and about to enter the land of Canaan which was also awash with image-centred worship. (The third command goes on to speak of our attitude in worship – reverence and awe – and the fourth of the context for corporate worship: the day God has set apart for himself.) Seen in the wider structure of the Commandments, if the first command tells us the God who alone we are to worship, the second tells us how he should be worshipped. The opening clause, therefore, is exegeted by the second: it is wrong to make a carved image with the intention of worshipping it. An ‘idol’ or ‘carved image’ is clearly meant to be understood in the sense of a ‘god’ (otherwise it becomes the pretext for a ban on creating any works of art, as at times it was understood in certain sectors of Judaism). The problem with such an approach is that it turns its opening statement into a tautology – simply reiterating what has been stated in the first commandment.

That may seem obvious, but there has been a tendency in some treatments of it to regard it as the latter. When we do that we should note that the second command is a single command in two parts, not two commands rolled into one. The paucity of literature discussing this aspect of the debate is surprising, but perhaps that in itself is a reflection of how one-sided it has tended to be, or else how Reformed churches – despite the view of covenant theology many of them espouse – have not always been as thoughtful as they might be when it comes to working with children.Ī key point in the discussion should be to look again at the wording and structure of the second command and how it fits into the flow of the Decalogue as a whole. It would be a mistake, however, not to consider other factors that colour this debate and we ought at least to ask whether or not a reasonable case can be made for the contrary view.

(Their argument is helped unwittingly by many who have no qualms about portraying him because they depict him as Anglo-Saxon, Aryan or American but never as the Middle-Easterner he was!) The classic exposition of the second commandment set out in the Westminster Larger Catechism (Questions 107-110) seems only to affirm this view. Those who favour the non-inclusion of images of Jesus do so on the grounds that any visible or tangible representation of God is forbidden, Therefore, since Jesus is the Son of God incarnate, to try and represent him in any such way would violate God’s law. It is a genuine debate, and, as with all debates it has two sides. There has been a long-running debate in Christian circles generally and Reformed Christian circles in particular as to whether or not using images of Jesus in children’s Bible story books, or for illustrations in children’s talks, is a breach of the second commandment.

Graven images biblical