Created to Explore: The Imago Dei and Humanity’s Restless Spirit
The Wonder Within Us
Have you ever stood at the edge of the ocean and felt the pull to see what’s beyond the horizon? Or gazed at the night sky and wondered what it might be like to step on another world? That restlessness isn’t just curiosity. It’s a reflection of something woven into us from the very beginning.
From the first pages of Scripture, we learn that God made humanity “in His image” (Gen. 1:26-27). That truth is both profound and practical. We are more than creatures who survive; we are image-bearers who create, discover, and reach. Our minds imagine things we have never seen, and our hands shape the world around us in ways no other living thing can.
This creative impulse is why children turn sticks into swords and cardboard boxes into spaceships. It’s why explorers sailed into the unknown seas and why astronauts have strapped themselves into rockets. The drive to explore is not a glitch in our nature. It’s part of the design. The same God who spoke galaxies into being made us to delight in them, to learn from them, and to fill them with His praise.
The Theology of Restlessness
The Imago Dei as a Commission to Expand
The imago Dei is more than a statement about human dignity; it’s a job description. In Genesis 1:28, God commands humanity to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it.” This “Cultural Mandate” isn’t a license to exploit, but a call to steward, to bring creation under wise, loving care that reflects God’s own reign.
Theologians like Herman Bavinck note that God’s image cannot be fully expressed in one person or even one generation; it takes a global, perhaps even cosmic, humanity to display His fullness. That means exploration isn’t an optional hobby for the adventurous; it’s part of our vocation as God’s representatives in His creation. When Psalm 8 marvels that God has placed “the moon and the stars” under humanity’s care, it hints that our dominion stretches beyond Earth’s atmosphere.
Restlessness as Holy Ambition
In the Baptist tradition, thinkers such as Albert Mohler have argued that God gave us “the entire created order for our exploration, for our interests, to show His glory.” Our curiosity about Mars, our development of rockets, and our plans for life-support domes are not inherently acts of pride; they can be acts of obedience, provided they are shaped by humility and directed toward God’s glory.
But here is the sober truth: wherever we go, we take our sin with us. The human condition does not improve with distance from Earth. That means the Great Commission, to make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:18-20), must follow the Cultural Mandate wherever it leads. If one day “nations” include Martian colonies or lunar research stations, they too will need the gospel.
The Two Mandates, One Purpose
When we hold the Cultural Mandate and the Great Commission together, we see that both call us outward, geographically, culturally, and spiritually. We explore to steward creation, and we proclaim the gospel to fill creation with worshippers of the Creator. Space exploration, then, is not a detour from God’s plan, but the next chapter in a story He has been writing since Eden.
The Road to Mars
We now live in a moment when humanity’s God-given restlessness has the technology to match. NASA’s Artemis program, China’s 2033 crewed Mars goal, and SpaceX’s Starship all point toward a near future where living on another planet is not a dream but a project in progress. Nuclear thermal propulsion could cut travel time to just a few months, making the Red Planet a reachable neighbor.
For the Christian, these milestones raise urgent questions: Who will be the first pastors on Mars? What does a worship service look like in one-third gravity? How will we disciple children who have never seen Earth’s sky? These questions cannot wait until after the first colony is built. They must be part of our mission planning now.
A Call to Lift Our Eyes
God has set eternity in our hearts (Eccl. 3:11), and perhaps He has also set the stars in our sights. The same Spirit who sent Paul across the Mediterranean and Hudson Taylor across continents may one day send His people across millions of kilometers.
But here’s the challenge: restlessness without mission drifts into self-glory; mission without restlessness stalls in comfort. We need both, the God-given drive to explore and the Christ-given command to make disciples.
The Church must prepare now. We must raise a generation who sees Mars not only as a scientific frontier but as a mission field. We must train engineers who think like missionaries, and missionaries who understand life-support systems. We must cultivate a holy restlessness that longs to see the glory of God fill the heavens as the waters cover the sea.
Because one day, someone will take the first step on Martian soil. Let it be someone whose heart beats with the same rhythm as the Creator’s: “Go into all the world… and beyond.”