The Suffering
of the Impassible God: The Dialectics of Patristic Thought
The doctrine of divine
(im)passibility piqued my interest the moment I first learned of it in Bible
College. I even wrote a paper on the subject in Systematic Theology II (in which I argued against it). I
simply could not understand how impassibility could ever have been accepted in
the first place. I’m still trying to get it. That’s why I’m reading this book.
It’s considered among the best books on the subject. I’m excited to finally be
reading it. It’s my intention to take my time with this book, summarizing it
and sharing my reflections here.
From what I can tell,
this will be the best treatment of the Father's view of impassibility I’ve read so far. I believe it will fill gaps
left by Weinandy’s Does God Suffer? and Hallman’s Descent
of God. In the revised
edition of The God Who Risks Sanders
gave credit to Gavrilyuk for enlightening him on the seemingly
self-contradictory patristic perspectives on (im)passibility.
From
impassibility to passibility
Gavrilyuk begins his
book by acknowledging that most of today’s theologians accept the premise that
God suffers. Though this view contradicts much church tradition, it has become
the new orthodoxy.
According to Gavrilyuk, it has now become common to dismiss the patristic concept of apatheia without giving serious study to
its function in the writings of the Fathers. The allegation that the Fathers
were unduly influenced by Hellenistic philosophy has come to be taken for
granted by many in contemporary theology. Gavrilyuk questions this new
conventional wisdom (which he calls the “Theory of Theology’s Fall Into
Hellenistic Philosophy”), refuting everyone from Adolf von Harnack and Abraham
Heschel to Jurgen Moltmann and Joseph M. Hallman.
How
much does God suffer?
He points out problems with unqualified Divine passibility. Unrestricted impassibility
appears obviously unbiblical. But so does the other extreme. If God is utterly passible,
we have problems. If that is true, then God is subject to all emotions. But
certain emotions are clearly beneath the holiness of God (e.g. “greed, lust,
fear, or anxiety”). It might also imply that God can be so overcome by emotion
that he becomes helpless, which is obviously not true of the God of the Bible.
Gavrilyuk argues that
in order for God to endure some forms of suffering he must have a body and soul
or something like them. In order for God to suffer just as we do he must share
a human nature. This resonates with patristic thinking.
Then there’s the
question of whether, if God suffers, his suffering is voluntary or not. Few
Christian theologians would want to argue that God cannot foresee and exercise
sovereignty over any suffering that comes his way. There is nothing virtuous
about suffering for no good reason. If God suffers he must suffer in a
purposeful way (Paul Fiddes agrees).
Jesus
loves me?
But what of compassion?
Isn’t it the essence of compassion to ‘suffer-with’? Gavrilyuk spends some time
on this point. He considers this part of the “archargument” against
impassibility. If God is the loving God of providential care and compassion,
how can we call him impassible?
Obviously, God acts
compassionately. But Gavrilyuk argues that suffering is not a necessary part of
compassion. Take the surgeon for example. His compassionate action of
practicing surgery would only be weakened by entering into the suffering of his
patient. Imagine a house on fire. People are suffering inside. A crowd gathers.
Some members of the crowd begin to weep and howl. One even has a fit and passes
out. Another sets herself ablaze in order to suffer with the people in the
house. Then a man, unmoved by emotion, recognizes that the people need help, and,
risking his own life, saves the people in the building from a fiery death. To
Gavrilyuk, the question of who showed genuine compassion in this situation has
an obvious answer – the rescuer.
This analysis of human compassion applies by way of analogy to the case of divine
compassion in the incarnation. Divine compassion presupposes both impassibility and passibility. It is the main contention of the patristic understanding of the incarnation that God, remaining fully divine, became human, accepted the limitations of human existence, subjected himself to voluntary suffering for the salvation of the world and triumphed over sin, death, and corruption in the end. God is impassible inasmuch as he is able to conquer suffering and he is passible inasmuch as he is able to suffer in and through human nature.
Closing
thoughts (on the Introduction)
Though I’m not quite
convinced by his arguments about compassion, I am certainly enjoying learning
from this book. I was first introduced to the Theory of Theology’s Fall Into
Hellenistic Philosophy while attending Bible College. There at the college
library and online I found the Theory expounded by Open Theists (whose ideas
captivated me at the time, and still do for that matter). It looks like this
book is going to correct my thinking a bit. I’m glad for that, especially since
I’ve come to respect the Fathers more since my Bible College days. It’ll be
nice to be convinced that they were not self-contradicting or syncretistic when
it came to the subject of divine pathos.
If you have any thoughts on the subject please share them. I'm always eager to learn.
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