Heidelberg Catechism: Lord's Day 35

Last week we explored how the Ten Commandments flow from God's redemptive grace, beginning with the fundamental call to exclusive devotion: "You shall have no other gods before Me." The first commandment established the essential question of whom we worship; God alone deserves our ultimate allegiance. But the Heidelberg Catechism now presses us toward an equally crucial matter. Not only does it matter whom we worship, but how we worship. The second commandment confronts our human tendency to domesticate the divine, warning against the creation of images and teaching us that God alone determines how He is to be known and honored.

Question 96

What does God require in the second commandment?

That we in no way make any image of God, nor worship Him in any other way than He has commanded in His Word.¹

¹ Deuteronomy 4:15–19; John 4:23–24

Question 97

May we then not make any image at all?

God cannot and may not be visibly portrayed in any way. As for creatures, though they may indeed be portrayed, yet God forbids the making or keeping of images if they are to be worshiped or used to serve Him.²

² Exodus 34:13–14, 17; Isaiah 40:25

Question 98

But may not images serve as books for the unlearned?

No, we should not try to be wiser than God. He wants His people instructed, not by dumb images that cannot speak, but by the living preaching of His Word.³

³ Habakkuk 2:18–20; Romans 10:17

Our Transcendant God

The second commandment flows not from divine aesthetic preference but from the fundamental nature of who God is. The Lord who spoke the universe into existence is spirit: infinite, eternal, and utterly beyond the reach of human craftsmanship or imagination. To attempt a visual representation of such transcendent glory is not merely inadequate; it constitutes a categorical impossibility that inevitably diminishes rather than honors its subject.

When we create images of God, we unconsciously reverse the proper order of worship. Instead of being shaped by God's self-revelation, we begin shaping God according to our preferences and limitations. What begins as an aid to devotion becomes a subtle form of control. We naturally prefer a deity we can see, touch, and manage over the living God who remains gloriously beyond our grasp. To make an image of the Almighty is to shrink Him down to something manageable, something domesticated, something fundamentally unlike the God who declares, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways" (Isa. 55:8).

The Peril of Religious Images

The danger lurking in religious images extends far beyond the obvious idolatries of ancient paganism. Even sincere attempts to make God more "accessible" or "relatable" through visual means carry profound spiritual risks. Images, by their very nature, must particularize what is universal, localize what is omnipresent, and materialize what is spirit. They may stir our emotions and capture our attention, but they cannot bear the infinite weight of divine truth.

The Catechism echoes the Reformers' hard-won wisdom: images cannot carry the weight of divine revelation. They may inspire temporary feelings, but they cannot reveal the living God or sustain genuine faith. As the prophet Habakkuk mockingly observed, idols are "dumb"; they cannot speak, cannot teach, cannot transform hearts (Habakkuk. 2:18–20). The most beautifully crafted religious art remains fundamentally mute when it comes to the soul's deepest needs.

A Pastoral Word on Religious Art

This theological framework raises practical questions that confront Christians daily: What about artwork depicting biblical scenes (like that often featured on this site)? Can we appreciate religious art without violating the second commandment? How do we navigate the intersection of faith and beauty?

Reformed teaching has approached these questions with both theological rigor and pastoral wisdom. The commandment's primary focus is worship: what God specifically forbids is representing Himself in ways that distort His glory or become objects of devotion in themselves. John Calvin wisely reminded us that creation itself displays God's majesty in living color. The issue is not art per se, but the temptation to use art to control or domesticate the God who cannot be contained.

There exists a crucial distinction between art and idolatry. Religious artwork—whether paintings, stained glass, or illustrated Bibles—can serve legitimate educational and inspirational purposes. The Reformers, despite their reputation for iconoclasm, did not despise beauty itself. What they opposed was the dangerous confusion of artistic representation with divine presence, the mistaking of symbols for the reality they symbolized.

The key principle remains Christ Himself as the perfect and sufficient image. Colossians 1:15 declares that Jesus "is the image of the invisible God," not a representation crafted by human hands, but the exact imprint of the Father's nature. Religious art may serve as a helpful pointer toward Christ, but only Christ perfectly reveals the Father's heart.

It's worth acknowledging that faithful Protestants have applied these principles differently throughout history. Lutheran and Anglican traditions retained more religious imagery. Reformed and Puritan churches stressed liturgical simplicity, removing potential distractions from Word-centered worship. Contemporary evangelicals span this entire spectrum. Yet across these denominational differences, there remains fundamental agreement on what matters most: no created object deserves worship, God must be known as He has revealed Himself, and Christ alone sufficiently images the invisible God.

This balanced approach liberates us to appreciate religious art as a servant without mistaking it for a master. A thoughtfully crafted painting of the prodigal son's return, a stained-glass window depicting biblical scenes, even a children's Bible illustration can teach and inspire hearts toward gospel truth. But they must remain precisely what they are: servants of the Word, never substitutes for it. The primary danger lies not in art itself but in our hearts, perpetually tempted to transform gifts into gods.

The Superior Gift of the Word

If God prohibits images of Himself, it is not to impoverish our spiritual lives but to direct us toward something infinitely superior: His own self-disclosure through Scripture. The prohibition comes paired with a gracious provision. The same God who says "You shall not make images" also promises that "faith comes by hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Rom. 10:17).

Consider the remarkable generosity embedded in this divine arrangement. Rather than leaving us to guess at His character through fumbling artistic attempts, God has chosen to reveal Himself directly through human language, the very medium through which we think, reason, and relate to one another. Scripture doesn't merely inform us about God; it carries His living voice to our hearts and minds, creating the faith it describes.

The worship practices God has ordained—preaching, congregational singing, corporate prayer, baptism, and the Lord's Supper—all flow from and return to His Word. These means of grace create genuine encounters with divine reality. In faithful preaching, we hear Christ's own voice addressing our deepest needs. In the sacraments, we receive tangible assurances of His covenant love. Through these Word-centered means, we meet not a carved likeness or painted portrait, but the living presence of Christ Himself, mediated by His Spirit and anchored in His unshakeable promises.

Christ: The True and Living Image

The profound irony of the second commandment is this: while we are strictly forbidden to fashion images of God, God has graciously provided the perfect image of Himself. Jesus Christ alone perfectly reveals the invisible God—not as a symbol pointing beyond Himself, but as God made visible in human flesh. The Incarnation gives us everything we truly need to know about the Father's character while preserving the mystery and majesty that make Him worthy of our worship.

When Philip requested, "Lord, show us the Father," Jesus responded with gentle correction: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (John 14:8–9). In Christ, the invisible God has made Himself fully known without compromising His transcendence or submitting to human manipulation. We need no other image because we have been given the true and living Image—not fashioned by our imagination but sent by the Father's love, the Word made flesh who dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.

A Closing Prayer

Living God, You surpass all human imagination and transcend every attempt to contain You in images fashioned by mortal hands. Forgive me for the subtle ways I try to diminish Your infinite glory, making You more manageable than magnificent, more comfortable than awesome. Guard my heart from the persistent temptation to fashion You according to my preferences rather than receiving You as You have graciously revealed Yourself. Open my eyes to behold You clearly in Your written Word and supremely in Your living Word, Jesus Christ, who perfectly images Your invisible nature. By Your Spirit, shape my worship so that I honor You according to Your truth rather than my imagination. May I find in Christ all that I need to know of Your character, Your love, and Your glory. In His precious name, Amen.

Daily Bible Readings

New Testament in a Year

August 31 – Luke 23:26–56
September 1 – Luke 24:1–35
September 2 – Luke 24:36–53
September 3 – John 1:1–28
September 4 – John 1:29–51
September 5 – John 2:1–25
September 6 – John 3:1–21

The Bible in a Year

August 31 – Proverbs 15–16; Luke 23:26–56
September 1 – Proverbs 17–18; Luke 24:1–35
September 2 – Proverbs 19–20; Luke 24:36–53
September 3 – Proverbs 21–22; John 1:1–28
September 4 – Proverbs 23–24; John 1:29–51
September 5 – Proverbs 25–26; John 2:1–25
September 6 – Proverbs 27–28; John 3:1–21