GEN96 Exactly which feature of the Divine being reflects this divine image is a matter of debate within the tradition. The Torah seems to tie it to humanity’s ability to make moral judgments—that is, to distinguish good from bad and right from wrong, to behave accordingly, and to judge one’s own actions and those of others on the basis of this moral knowledge. Genesis 1:26-27; 3:1-7, 22-24.  Another human faculty connected to divinity by the Torah and by the later tradition is the ability to speak. Genesis 2:18-24; Numbers 12:1-16; Deuteronomy 22:13-19 Maimonides claims that the divine image resides in our capacity to think, especially discursively. Guide for the Perplexed, part I, ch. 1. Locating the divine image within us may also be the Torah’s way of acknowledging that we can love, just as God does, Deuteronomy 6:5; Leviticus 19:18, 33-34; note that the traditional prayer book juxtaposes the paragraph just before the Shema, which speaks of God’s love for us, with the first paragraph of the Shema, which commands us to love God or that we are at least partially spiritual and thus share God’s spiritual nature. [Consider the prayer in the traditional, early morning weekday service, Elohai, neshamah she-notata bi, “My God, the soul (or life-breath) that you have imparted to me is pure. You created it, You formed it, You breathed it into me; You guard it within me …” Harlow, Siddur Sim Shalom, p. 11. Similarly, the Rabbis describe the human being as part divine and part animal, the latter consisting of the material aspects of the human being and the former consisting of that which we share with God; See Sifrei Deuteronomy, par. 306; 132a. Or consider this rabbinic statement in Genesis Rabbah 8:11: “In four respects man resembles the creatures above, and in four respects the creatures below. Like the animals he eats and drinks, propagates his species, relieves himself, and dies. Like the ministering angels he stands erect, speaks, possesses intellect, and sees [in front of him and not on the side like an animal].”  In the biblical account, humanity was not only created in the divine image; was also created, initially, in the form of one human being: Adam. In an oft-quoted passage in the Mishnah, the Rabbis spell out several implications of God’s first creating a single human being. Two of those ramifications add further to the worth of each individual.  First, killing one person is also killing all of his or her potential descendants—indeed “an entire world.” Conversely, someone who saves an individual “saves an entire world.” That makes murder of any one individual all the more serious and saving a human life all the more praiseworthy.  It also ascribes value to each of us as the possible progenitor of future generations.  Second, when people use a mold to create coins, the image on each coin in exactly the same. God, however, made each human being unique.  In accordance with the laws of supply and demand, a one-of-a-kind thing demands a far higher price than something that is plentiful on the market.  Think, for example, of the comparative value of a Picasso original, or each of a few hundred prints of that work, and finally, of a photograph of that work: the more unique the produce, the greater its value. The fact that each of us is unique imparts to each of us immense value.  Thinking that the world was created for your sake (as this Mishnah in Sanhedrin [4:5] suggests) can, of course, produce more than a little arrogance. The following lovely Hasidic saying introduces an appropriate balance: “A person should always carry two pieces of paper in his/her pockets. On one should be written, “For me the world was created,’ and on the other, “I am but dust and ashes” [quoting Genesis 18:27].”  Rabbi Bunam, cited by Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim (New York: Schocken, 1948), vol. II, pp. 249-250 We must have humility before God and before other people, then, while still appreciating our own immense worth and that of every other human being by virtue of our creation in the image of God. DORFFWITO 31