Who Would Jesus Visit?

Someone recently asked me whether I like to visit people as a part of my role as a pastor. The answer is a definite yes. Through those visits relationships deepen. I don’t just teach – I learn. I don’t just encourage – I’m encouraged.

Allow me to reminisce a bit. Out of respect for people’s privacy, most of these names will be changed.

Jeff didn’t leave the house much. In order to leave the house he had to overcome more fear and anxiety than most of us can imagine. I counted it an honor to get to go to him. I got to pray for him, talk with him, and get to know him. Eventually we even went out riding together – him on his motorcycle and me on my Vespa-like scooter. I believe it was largely because of those visits that Jeff started coming to church.

For some time I worshipped on Tuesday and Thursday evenings with a small black congregation (well, there was that one white lady…and me). Those services were wonderful. The people were filled with the love of God. And the music was incredible (all a capella). They lined hymns like "A Charge to Keep I Have" (sounded a lot like that too) “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” And then they would sing happy choruses like “Joy Bells” or this one. During that time one of the deacons, an octogenarian, fell ill and was hospitalized. So I figured I’d go visit. He was a sick man. But that man was so full of the Joy of the Lord that I left that hospital greatly encouraged. I think 

I got more out of that visit than he did!

Then there was Jim. Jim had never been visited by his pastor before the first time I came to visit. He’d been in church for about 40 years. At the time he was roughly 70 years old. Somehow, I was the first pastor to visit this godly man at his home. I was encouraged through those visits. And I got to meet more of his family. I counted it an honor to be welcomed into their lives.

Sean finally got clean. He had been an alcoholic for years. Then he moved on to crack cocaine. But Jesus got a hold of him. He started coming to church and turning his back on those old ways. That didn’t mean that life suddenly became a bed of roses. He went through some dark and discouraged days. Time and again I’d come over to find him depressed. But then, after a short time of Christian fellowship, he would begin to brighten up. Life, energy, and hope would return to his spirit. And, of course, I too left a bit happier than when I came.

Grandma Moses was the sweetest old lady. She lived on her own. She had no family nearby. As far as I know she didn’t really have any visitors. But week after week our visits left me encouraged. It was always a delight to hear that lady pray. She had a faith that had stood the test of time.

I’m tempted to tell about others. But I won’t.

Would Jesus Visit?

It so happened that the day before I was asked that question about visiting, the Lord had been reminding me of just how important pastoral visitation is. I had been reading a book about ministry by Thomas Oden in which he emphasizes the centrality of the ancient tradition of pastoral visitation. Good shepherds have visited the poor, sick, lonely, suffering, and dying from the beginning.

Some of the earliest Christian writings came from the pen of a pastor named Ignatius. Around 105 A.D. Ignatius exhorted Christians:

Labor together with one another, strive together, run together, suffer together, rest together, rise up together – as God’s stewards and assistants and servants.

It seems that Pastor Ignatius did not think that it was good to live the Christian life alone. It sounds like he thought we should visit.

Likewise, the Didache, which many early Christians considered to be Scripture, encouraged regular visitation:

Wherever the Lord’s attributes are the subject of discourse, there the Lord is present. Frequent the company of the saints daily, so as to be edified by their conversation.

A good shepherd does not stay at home waiting for the lost sheep to come home. The Apostolic Constitutions (another book that was considered Scripture by many), urges:

Like a compassionate shepherd, be a diligent feeder of the flock. Search out, and keep an account of the flock. Seek out the one that has need, just as the Lord God our gracious Father sent His own Son, the good Shepherd and Saviour, to seek us. Our Master Jesus said: “if one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them, does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the missing one until he has found it? How delighted he is then! He lifts it on his shoulders, and home he goes to call his friends and neighbours together, and says, ‘I have found my lost sheep.’”

How many times has a Christian slipped out of the church without a visit from anyone? This should never be!

Go Visit!

True religion is about staying pure and visiting orphans and widows (James 1:27). Visiting is not just for pastors. It’s also not just about visiting your friends. It’s not about visiting people who are like you. God sends us to the poor, lonely, jailed, hospitalized, shut-in, weird, and uncool. Jesus taught us to invite people over for dinner who can’t afford to invite us over in return.

But don’t worry. Like all the other duties of the Christian life, visiting is a blessing. Do you want to be happy? Fulfilled? Go visit in the name of the Lord! After all, in everyone you visit you’ll be visiting the Lord (Mat 25:34-40).

Suffering Impassible God (Impassibility as an Apophatic Qualifier)

Introduction

Chapter 1

Suffering Impassible God (Impassibility as an Apophatic Qualifier)

“This chapter offers a preliminary analysis of the function of the divine impassibility in select patristic sources without special reference to the Christological debates on the incarnation.” The Fathers did not emphasize impassibility. They wrote much more about God’s love, mercy, anger, and compassion than his impassibility.

Gavrilyuk contends that, contrary to the claims of the proponents of the Theory of Theology’s Fall into Hellenistic Philosophy, the Fathers did not associate apatheia with divine apathy or indifference. He presents three functions of impassibility in patristic thought:

1. Distinguishing the true God from the gods of mythology
2. Affirming God’s impassibility was not incompatible with his “emotionally coloured characteristics, e.g., love, mercy, and compassion.” And especially anger.
3. Impassibility was part of apophatic theology. It was primarily an ontological rather than a psychological term.

God is Unlike Pagan Deities

The gods of mythology were passionate and weak. Even pagan philosophers (beginning with Xenophanes in the sixth century B.C.) accused polytheists of illegitimate anthropomorphism. Christians continued the assault against pagan concepts of the divine.

For the most part, early Christian apologists simply echoed the arguments that had long been leveled against the gods of mythology. These arguments included: 1) the events of mythology were no events at all, simply fables; 2) If there were any kernel of truth in the stories at all it lay in the lives of ordinary humans who were later elevated to divine status after death; 3) Some of the gods seemed to be only the personification of certain (rather undesirable) human passions.

Christians did make at least one new contribution. They contended that the demigods were in fact evil demons – fallen angels. “Christians did not hesitate to identify all the immortal inhabitants of Olympus with these unseemly creatures, the demons.”

The gods of mythology were subject to passions. Justin points out that, in contradistinction to the Christian God, Persephone and Aphrodite were “stung to madness by love for Adonis,” others lusted for women, Thetis was worried that her son Achilles “should destroy many of the Greeks because of his concubine Briseis.” Contrasted with such gods, it is clear that the Christian God is impassible. God is not a slave to intense and irrational emotional outbursts of anger, envy, lust, greed, hatred, and vengeance.

By making clear that God is unlike the gods of pagan religions, the Fathers prepared the way for their declaration that the Christian God possessed “God-befitting emotionally couloured characteristics such as mercy, love, and compassion.” “Divine impassibility meant first of all that God is in total control of his actions and that morally objectionable emotions are alien to him.”

God’s Anger

As we have seen, around the time of Christianity’s birth educated pagans had, as a whole, come to affirm divine impassibility. The Fathers, while critical of the ignoble acts and emotions of the deities of the folk religions that surrounded them, were themselves criticized by their educated neighbors for believing in a deity who was sometimes subject to similar emotional displays. To them, the Christian understanding of impassibility was too weak.

Speaking of divine anger in the OT, Julian said:

The philosophers bid us imitate the gods so far as we can, and they teach us that this imitation consists in the contemplation of realities. And that this sort of study is remote from passion (δίχα πάθους) and is indeed based on freedom from passion (εν απάθεια κειται), is, I suppose, evident, even without my saying it. In proportion then as we, having been assigned to the contemplation of realities, attain to freedom from passion (εν απάθεια), in so far do we become like God. But what sort of imitation of God is praised among the Hebrews? Anger and wrath and fierce jealousy (οργή καί θυμός καί ζήλος άγριος).

This critique is representative of many others of the time.

Seneca, evidencing the popularity of the Stoic claim that anger is always beneath even an earthly philosopher, let alone God, claimed that “the philosophical schools were in agreement that God is free from anger.” Some Christian apologists, such as Athenagoras, Aristides, and Arnobius, accepted the dominant view of the day and insisted that God is never angry, since anger is always evil.

Marcion, who rejected the OT and its warlike God, spurred the Fathers on to develop a more nuanced account of divine anger. Most of the Fathers (Gavrilyuk emphasizes Irenaeus and Tertullian here) stubbornly held to their conviction that God’s anger is fitting – a manifestation of his justice. Irenaeus wrote:

That they [the Marcionites] might take away the vindictive and judicial power from the Father, imagining that to be unworthy of God, and thinking that they had found a god angerless (sine iracundia) and good, they taught that the one [god] is a judge and the other is a savior, ignorant of the fact that they were taking away the intelligence and justice of both deities.

In an endeavor to articulate the importance of God’s anger, Tertullian introduced a new expression – ‘judicial sentiment’ (judiciaries sensus). Tertullian contended that if God could not be angry several other characteristics would be lost as well. He could not be just, merciful, good, or intelligent if he could not be angry.

The Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions (Gavrilyuk suggests an early third century dating and Syriac origin) presents a view that, like Tertullian’s connects justice and anger:

[T]he philosophers say that god is not angry, not knowing what they say. For anger is evil whenever it disturbs the mind (mentem turbat) so that it destroys right judgment. That anger, however, which punishes the wicked does not bring on disturbance of the mind (perturbationem menti non infert), but is, I may say, one and the same affection which allots rewards to the good and punishment to the wicked. For if he should give blessings to the virtuous and to the wicked and bestow similar remuneration on the good and the evil, he would appear unjust rather than good.

This prominent strand of early Christian thinking insisted that without divine anger there can be no divine justice.

Lactantius further developed the Christian response to the philosophers’ denial of divine anger. He refuted the Epicurean’s total rejection of providence. Then he went on to contend with the Stoic belief that anger is always evil – a belief that some were quite strongly committed to. “Seneca went so far as to say that even when a horrible crime, like the killing of one’s father and the rape of one’s mother was committed before the philosopher’s very eyes, a true lover of wisdom should remain tranquil and would strive to avenge and protect his relatives without anger.” Lactantius insisted that anger was fitting when directed toward the punishment of the wicked. When crimes are committed in God’s world (which Lactantius compares to a household), it is right for God to punish those crimes. God’s anger is always just. “Justin, Theophilus, Cyprian, Commodian, and others shared the conviction that anger was a powerful tool for expressing condemnation of sin.”

But does God feel anger? Clement of Alexandrian and Origen say no. They taught that the Bible attributes anger to God so that holy fear will fall upon the simple. Of course Clement and Origen knew that such language wasn’t to be taken literally. Likewise, John Cassian denied that God himself felt anger. Rather, the wrath of God was something humans felt. Augustine too sometimes held this subjectivist view of divine anger.

Tertullian, Lactantius, Novatian, and Cyril of Alexandria weighed in on the other side of this debate. Though they were careful to nuance the assertion, they did maintain that God felt anger. God is never overpowered by anger. He is always in control of his anger. And he is always angry for the right reasons. Yet, God does indeed feel anger. Tertullian (who affirmed divine impassiblity) said that the ‘human soul has the same emotions and sensations as God,’ believing that our emotions are part of the imago Dei in human beings.

Similarly, at least in some places, Augustine contends that God does experience a variety of human emotions.

[A]lthough God cannot suffer [anything evil] (deus nihil [mali] pati posit), and patience (patienda) surely has its name from suffering (patiendo), we not only faithfully believe in a patient God (patientem Deum), but also steadfastly acknowledge Him to be such. Who can explain in words the nature and the quatity of God’s patience? We say He is impassible (nihil patientem), yet not impatient (impatientem); nay, rather, extremely patient (patientissimum). His patience is indescribable, yet it exists as does His jealousy, His wrath, and any characteristic of this kind. But, if we conceive of these qualities, as they exist in us, He has none of them. We do not experience these feelings without annoyance (sine molestia), but far be it from us to suspect an impassible God (impassiblem Dei) of suffering any annoyance. Just as He is jealous without any ill will, as He is angry without being emotionally upset, as He pities without grieving, as He is sorry without correcting any fault, so He is patient without suffering at all.

Augustine doesn’t deny divine emotions, but contends that they lack all the negative aspects of human emotions.

Impassibility as Apophatic Qualifier of Divine Emotions

Divine impassibility doesn’t tend to show up alone. Gavrilyuk contends that proponents of the Theory of Theology’s Fall into Hellenistic Philosophy have often overlooked this context. Impassibility comes up along with other declarations of what God is not. God is not visible, finite, effable, created, corruptible, mutable, or passible. Some of these apophatic statements should not be taken to their absolute logical limits. They all serve to show that God is transcendent. He is unlike his creatures.

His dissimilarity to creatures runs both ways. For instance, God is said to be invisible. This, however, may be primarily a statement about our (at least for the time being) creaturely limitations. We cannot see him in his fullness. “[T]he adjectives invisible, incomprehensible, and inexpressible qualify to see, comprehend, and describe God. These qualifiers do not function in such a way as to rule out God’s ability to disclose himself to humans. In this case, negation functions as superlative.”

So, when patristic theology insists that God is not passible it does not mean that God has no emotions whatsoever. The Fathers did not portray God as apathetic or indifferent. The term apatheia was only intended to convey that God does not experience emotions precisely as we do. Well…until we start talking about the incarnation.

Closing Thoughts (Chapter 2)

I really enjoyed this chapter. I was a bit surprised to see how much Gavrilyuk’s evidence  still seems to support the idea that Hellenistic philosophy influenced patristic theology(e.g. Athenagoras, Aristides, and Arnobius all insisted that God was never angry). I had gotten the impression that he was going to utterly demolish the Theory.

I liked the handy listing of which Fathers took a more subjectivist view of divine anger and which believed that God felt emotions in himself. At this point, Tertullian’s understanding resonates with me. I suspect that human emotions are part of the vestigial imago Dei.

It’s been interesting to see how often the philosophers suppose that God (or gods) serves as an example for humans. So, if God doesn't get angry then humans shouldn’t get angry. If we applied that sort of thinking in reverse, going from prescribed NT ethics for humans to God (who we’re surely called to imitate), would we suppose that God is emotional?

The NT commands and condemns many emotions. It also commands imitation of God. This may be a way around the objection that language about God’s emotions is only anthropopathic. Even if we grant that, if we are called to rejoice, be glad, weep, pity, and practice patience should we not suppose that God’s emotional life is somehow alike?

Speaking of patience or longsuffering, Augustine’s introduction of patience into this discussion interests me immensely. How can a being who never suffers be said to be patient?

Chapter 3

The Gospel of Dependence

You are not good enough, strong enough, or wise enough on your own. The good news of Christianity is that you don’t have to depend on yourself. The Gospel shows us that we don’t have to try to be anything on our own. 

The first sermon of the New Testament church was preached by Peter on the day of the feast of Pentecost (Acts 2:14-40). Peter preached about the mighty acts of God through Jesus – especially the resurrection. Jesus had just been crucified and everybody knew it. But God had raised Jesus from the dead, and the disciples had seen and touched him after his resurrection. Now Jesus was seated on God’s throne! God had made Jesus, whom they had crucified, “both Lord and Christ!”

Many in the crowd were cut to the heart.

They cried out, “What shall we do?”

Acts 2:38 gives the answer:

And Peter said to them, "Repent, and let each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit…

Dependent in Repentance

They were urged to turn from their sins. This they could only do because God, in his grace, had sent his messengers. Without the illuminating and convicting work of the Spirit through Peter’s preaching no one would have turned their backs on their sins and their faces toward God.

Dependent in Baptism

Water baptism is the common entry rite of Christians everywhere. The New Testament indicates that this baptism involves being fully submerged in water (typifying death, burial, and resurrection among other things). Unlike some earlier (Jewish) baptismal practices, Christian baptism was administered by some other person. We don't baptize ourselves. Baptism reminds us that we need each other.

Christian baptism introduces us into a new life that involves a new community from the start. 

Dependent for Forgiveness

As we trust God to allow us to enter into Christ’s death and life he gives us something we could never give ourselves. He forgives our sins against him. We all need his forgiveness.

Dependent on Jesus

This baptism is a baptism into the name of Jesus. What is meant by being baptized into Jesus’ name? When we call on the name of Jesus and are baptized into his name we declare our utter dependence on who he is and what he has done. Our lives become hidden in Christ. His death becomes our death. And his life becomes our life!

Dependent on the Spirit

Becoming a Christian involves receiving a wonderful gift. Jesus first received this gift from the Father (Acts 2:33). Then he poured out this gift upon his people. The gift is sometimes called baptism in the Spirit and was prophesied of by John the Baptist and Joel (Luke 3:16; Joel 2:28-29). We cannot perform this baptism ourselves. We are utterly dependent on Jesus to pour out this gift upon us.

Then, to add to the good news of dependence, the Holy Spirit does impossible things through us. On the day of Pentecost the disciples spoke in languages they’d never learned! This let everyone know that something supernatural was taking place. And that wasn’t the only time or way that God's people did the impossible through the power of the Spirit (Acts 10:44-46; 13:9-11; 19:6; 1 Corinthians 12:7-11; 14:18)

Freedom in Dependence

You don’t have to save yourself. You can’t anyway! Just as certainly as you can’t start speaking in a language you’ve never learned you also cannot save yourself. You cannot forgive yourself for what you’ve done against God. You cannot raise yourself from the dead. The good news is that God freely does these things that we could never do for ourselves.

God wants us to enjoy the freedom of dependence. He never intended for us to live life independently. From start to finish, the Christian life teaches us to depend on our heavenly Father and our earthly brothers and sisters. In our interdependence we find what we need – freedom, acceptance, forgiveness, and love. 

The Suffering of the Impassible God (Chapter 1)

(Introduction)

Gavrilyuk begins his attack against The Theory of Theology’s Fall into Hellenistic Philosophy by attempting to demonstrate that both Hellenistic philosophy and the Bible itself are more diverse and complex in their views on divine emotions than the Theory suggests.

Hellenistic Philosophies

There was no single Hellenistic understanding of divine emotions and involvement with the world. Cicero bore witness to this fact in 1 BC:

There is in fact no subject upon which so much difference of opinion exists [speaking of “whether the gods are entirely idle (nihil agant) and inactive (nihil moliantur)” or controlling all things], not only among the unlearned but also among educated men; and the views entertained are so various and so discrepant, that, while it is no doubt a possible alternative that none of them is true, it is certainly impossible that more than one should be so.

Sextus Empiricus confirms that such was the still case in the second century AD. To simplify things, Gavrilyuk focuses on the dominant views within three competing schools: Epicurean, Stoic, and Middle Platonic.

Epicurean

The Epicureans accepted the traditional belief that gods possessed immortal bodies and were anthropomorphic. They taught that divine happiness consisted in not being influenced by anything external. According to Epicurus, gods are ‘strangers to suffering; nothing can cause them any joy or inflict on them any suffering from outside’. The gods are not subject to experiences judged on the basis of hedonistic ethics as negative, such as anxiety, fear, grief, anger, envy, fatigue, and pain.

Yet, even the Epicureans believed that the gods have what Gavrilyuk calls “emotionally coloured features.” They believed that the gods are happy, and that human happiness largely comes through the gods. Part of what keeps the gods happy is their complete lack of involvement in human affairs. This meant that the gods were not so weak as to care (and thereby become emotionally dependent) about any creature. It also meant that humans had nothing to fear from the gods.

Common folks didn’t much care for the Epicurean view on these things. It seemed like they were rejecting religion entirely. Even the Stoics and Middle Platonists picked on the Epicureans for denying providence.

Stoic

The early Stoics did believe freedom from pathē was the ideal – for humans. The god of the Stoics, on the other hand, was not part of the discussion since it was impersonal, “identified with the fiery breath, or with the world-soul, or with the seminal reason of the world, or even with the world itself.”

Yet, not every Stoic description of god (or the gods) is impersonal. As part of their critique of popular myths, Stoics insisted that the gods did not become angry or hurt anyone. Some Stoics believed that demons helped and watched over humanity. Some were rather devout and taught that the gods heard and responded to prayer. They articulated a complex view of providence.

To conclude, the Stoics held two distinct views: (1) God is material and impersonal, and guides the world as an immanent seminal reason; (2) gods are non-anthropomorphic powers who care both for the operation of the world and for humans. The problem of divine emotions was largely irrelevant to both views.

Middle Platonic

The Middle Platonists held more consistent views. They believed that beyond the world of the seen was a higher realm, the realm of ideas.

This conception of reality involved several pairs of antithetical oppositions; sensible and intelligible, becoming and being, material and formal, corporeal and incorporeal, visible and invisible, temporal and eternal, mutable and immutable, passible and impassible. Correspondingly, the universe had the following basic structure: the highest levels were occupied by the invisible, immaterial, and intelligible things, or ideas; the lowest levels were populated by visible, material, and sensible entities; whereas the intermediary levels were assigned to the objects to which boths sets of descriptions could be applied.

The supreme and impassible God interacts with the material world only indirectly, through lower gods. Like the Stoics, Middle Platonists affirmed God’s providential care for all nations. “It is true that among educated pagans, whose philosophical views tended towards later Platonism, the divine impassibility did acquire the status of a universally shared opinion.” This was, however, a later development. Though first mentioned in Aristotle, the Fathers “show no awareness” of this obscure point.

Mystery Cults

In order to stress the diversity of Hellenistic thought, Gavrilyuk points to the gods of the mystery cults. Those gods suffered and were passionate.

The meaning of apatheia

Not only did the various philosophical schools disagree about the desirability of apatheia, whether human or divine, they also took the term to mean different things – and the disagreement continues to this day. The Fathers were also aware of this debate, and added their voices to the mix.

The term was first used as a technical term by the Stoics. The main point of contention is whether apatheia denotes literal freedom from all emotions. Critics have tended to take the term quite literally. Jerome, for instance contended that in order to be impassible one must be vel saxum, vel deum, either stone or God.

While the early Stoics did have a negative attitude toward passions, later Stoicism, while continuing to use apatheia as the term for the ideal state, granted that some feelings are profitable for the formation of character. It is noteworthy that, “Quite apart from the influence of Stoicism, the term pathē had a negative connotation for the Greek-speaking world which the term ‘emotion’ does not have today.”

In contrast to the trend since Freud to look at the expression of strong emotion as a healthy thing, Hellenists supposed that the expression of pathē was destructive to human nature and clouded moral judgment. We now perceive emotions to play an important part in moral judgment.

Anti-anthropomorphic and Anti-anthropopathic Tendencies in the Bible

Gavrilyuk begins this section by conceding that, “It must be admitted that the Bible ascribes to God a much wider range of human emotion than any philosophically minded pagan of the Hellenistic would ever find appropriate.” But Gavrilyuk contends that “the biblical authors themselves” sometimes find the descriptions of God’s emotional life to be “problematic.” Certainly, God does not experience love, hatred, anger, or jealousy quite like we do. For example, Gavrilyuk contends that, unlike us, “God does not seek gratification of his own desires in love, but pursues only the welfare of his creatures.”

Diversity Within the Canon

Scripture teaches that God repents (Gen 6:5-7; Ex 32:12-14; Deut 32:36; Jud 2:18; 1 Sam 15:11; Ps 90:13; 106:45; 135:14; Jer 42:10; Hos 11:8-9; Jon 3:9-10; 4:2). The Bible teaches that God cannot repent (Num 23:19; 1 Sam 15:29; Hos 13:14). Gavrilyuk rejects the idea that these seeming contradictions should not be harmonized. He contends that the canon demands that we seek to read the Bible in a coherent way.

Gavrilyuk sees in the OT prohibition of idolatry an implicit rejection of anthropomorphism. He criticizes passibilists for not treating this subject extensively enough when claiming that the biblical material supports their theologies.

Now we get to the heart of his argument here. The translators of the LXX downplay anthropomorphic and anthropopathic elements in the Hebrew Scriptures. Exodus 32:14 goes from ‘Yahweh repented of the evil’ to ‘the Lord was moved with compassion.’ Abraham’s prayer, ‘Oh let not the Lord be angry’ becomes ‘let it be nothing, oh Lord, if I speak’ (Gen 18:30). The Hebrew, ‘that there be no wrath upon the congregation of the children of Israel’ becomes ‘that there be no sin among the children of Israel’ in the LXX (Num 1:53). God does not ‘pass over’, as in the Hebrew, at the first Passover. Instead, what he does is ‘cover’. Such adjustments are not consistently made in the LXX. Yet, the tendency is unquestionable.

Isaiah 63:9 is commonly cited in discussions of (im)passibility. It reads thus in the KJV: ^'In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old' (Isa 63:9). The LXX on the other hand reads: ‘And he became to them deliverance out of all their affliction: not an ambassador, not a messenger, but he himself saved them, because he loved them and spared them.’ Jeremiah 31:20 is another example of the anti-anthropopathic tendencies of the LXX translators. ‘My bowels are troubled for him’ became ‘therefore I made haste to help him.’

Gavrilyuk sees all this as evidence that there was already an anti-anthropomorphic/pathic tendency within pre-Christian Judaism prior to the influence of Hellenism. He cites Fritsch’s opinion that the LXX was sufficiently different from the Hebrew Scriptures to present a different picture of God. The fact that the early church read the LXX certainly has changed the face of theology ever since.

Philo

Anthropomorphisms are a sort of necessary evil for Philo. Such descriptions are “helpful pedagogically for admonishing and educating simpler minds.” Anthropomorphisms always needed proper apophatic qualifiers.

Philo’s interpretations were shaped by the Bible he read – the LXX. So Philo did not read ‘God is not a man’ in Numbers 23:19, but rather, ‘God is not as a man.’ When he interpreted Genesis 6:6-7 he noted that there were some people (‘careless inquirers’) who got it quite wrong by supposing that the text means that God repented of creating the human race. The Hebrew text does indeed say that God ‘repented’ and was ‘grieved’ when he saw the violence of the race. The LXX, on the other hand, says, ‘God considered in his mind that he had made man upon the earth, and he thought upon it.’ To claim that God repented and grieved over creating man was completely unacceptable to Philo because it contradicted foreknowledge and presented God as changeable. In this same passage the LXX says that God was angry. Philo makes clear that this does not mean that God is subject to anger or any other passion. Such emotions are part of “human weakness.” He did, however, purport that joy, compassion, mercy and such like are characteristics of God. These God shares freely with his people.

Closing Thoughts (Chapter 1)

I appreciate the information Gavrilyuk has gathered (though sometimes I wish it was organized a bit more clearly). But I’m still not convinced of his conclusions.

He’s obviously right that there was no single Hellenistic view of divine emotions and involvement with the world. But I don’t recall anyone making such a simplistic claim. Certainly, no one is suggesting that the theologies of the Hellenistic mystery religions influenced the Fathers. Plato, on the other hand, has often been credited for having an influence on the Fathers. And Gavrilyuk grants that later Platonic impassibility became the standard view among educated Hellenic pagans.

His contention that the LXX translators were part of a larger anti-anthropomoric and anti-anthropopathic theological stream within pre-Christian Judaism may well be true. Unfortunately, he doesn’t back up his claim with evidence. Did the LXX translators get it right? What if they got it wrong and thereby misled the Fathers?

Maybe I’m being a bit nit-picky, but I was turned off by his description of our Lord’s words, “my bowels are troubled for him” as a “reference to the divine digestive system.” This strikes me as cheap and disrespectful. 

I wonder why he did not explore (im)passibility in the NT. Perhaps he’s just taking on his opponents where they have been making their attacks. Regardless, I wish he had explored the NT material in order to attempt to demonstrate continuity or discontinuity between the Hebrew Scriptures, the NT, and the Fathers on the subject at hand.




Chapter 2...

What's Wrong With the Harlem Shake in Church?

There’s a new fad passing through. Perhaps you’ve heard of the “Harlem Shake.” Like the Macarena, Crocs, The Davinci Code, pet rocks, and planking, it came out of nowhere and will surely head back where it came from quite soon. It took surprisingly little time for this craze to make its way into Christian churches. In fact, many churches are posting videos of themselves doing the “Harlem Shake.” You can read more about it and see some of the videos here.

A friend asked the sincere and excellent question, “What parts of the video/song/dancing are inappropriate according to Scripture?” I want to try to answer that question here.

What I’m not saying

I’m not saying that I think the people who are doing the “Harlem Shake” think they’re doing anything wrong. I think they’re just trying to have fun. Even the adults who bear the responsibility of shepherding the youth of the church probably haven’t thought deeply about what they’re doing. They too are just doing something they see as harmless and funny silliness.

I’m not saying that discipleship requires or even permits a dour and grim existence. I’m not some sort of sour and dour Christian. I’m not someone who wants to suck the joy out of life. Neither is God (Acts 14:17; 1 Tim 6:17). After all, Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine at a wedding party! I find great delight in fellowship with God and his people. I enjoy times of laughter and celebration with the family of God. It’s because I am so wildly pro joy that I want to warn people to be careful to keep the joy God gives. We must not accept any substitutes.

Reverence or Familiarity                                                                                                                                        

God takes the sanctity of his house very seriously. Jesus violently cast people out of the Temple area for defiling it by buying and selling animals and currency within its grounds (perhaps even in the court of the Gentiles). As he cleansed the Temple he quoted the prophet, “My house shall be called a house of prayer” (Mat 21:13; Isa 56:7). Buyers and sellers were creating a distraction from the true purpose of the Temple and thereby robbing God of the worship that was his due and God’s people of their space for prayer. The problem wasn’t buying and selling. There’s nothing wrong with buying and selling. What angered Jesus was where the transactions were happening. They were taking place within a holy place.

There’s a time and season for everything. Pardon the crude image, but, some families get a big kick out of breaking wind as loudly as possible within their own homes. That’s their business, right? But if it were done in the sanctuary to entertain those who had gathered to worship it would be another story completely. Reverence for God requires that we behave in a fitting way at the times and places where his people gather for worship.

Would Jesus be angry if he saw people dancing the “Harlem Shake” in the house of prayer? I believe he would be. I believe he is. "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in their midst" (Mat 18:20). 

Transformed or Conformed   

God has called us to be transformed. That means we can no longer conform to the perverse ways of our broken environment (Rom 12:1-2). We should stand out. We have been changed! Unfortunately, Christian churches often offer cheap and bland imitations of broken subcultures. We have something much better than that to offer. We have the Gospel. We have wholeness. We offer a radically different way of life – a beautiful counter-culture of healing, forgiveness, and new life in Christ.

Chastity or Lewdness

In the beginning God created us male and female. From the start we were different but equal – made for each other. Sex is a powerful part of the beautiful connection between husband and wife – part of how we’re made for each other. We were designed to be satisfied with one spouse. Any sexual activity outside of the marriage relationship is always destructive and always wrong.

Not only are extramarital sex acts out of bounds, but the lustful thoughts and feelings that lead up to those acts are forbidden as well (1 Thess 4:3-5; Col 3:5; Eph 5:3). Jesus even went so far as to equate lustful looks with adultery (Mat 5:28).

Knowing the gravity of the situation it should be obvious that men and women (especially young men and women) should take every reasonable precaution to avoid stirring up lustful passions in the opposite sex. I believe it’s pretty likely that the “Harlem Shake” could inspire sinful desires – likely enough that we shouldn’t encourage or even allow it in Christian youth meetings.  

Sobriety or Foolishness

Life on earth is a funny thing. But it’s not a silly thing. The Bible teaches that life is a very serious thing – especially when it comes to religious matters. Eternal destinies are at stake. And every moment counts. We are called to use our time wisely (Eph 5:15-16). After all, people are learning from our words and actions what we really believe (1 Thes 1:8; 2 Cor 3:2).

Christian leaders are expected to be sensible and wise (1 Tim 3:2; Titus 1:7-8). All disciples are called to a certain level of seriousness (Titus 2:6; 1 Pet 1:13; 4:7). We will all soon stand before God and be judged for what we did in this life (Mat 16:27; Rev 20:12-13). It’s a sobering reminder.

Foolishness is nowhere extolled in the Bible. Silly and foolish talk gets condemned right along with dirty jokes (Eph 5:4). At some point foolishness is more than harmless fun. The Bible calls it sin (Pro 24:9). I doubt anyone would describe the “Harlem Shake” as wise behavior. But the folly of this practice is amplified when we consider the sacredness of God’s house.

Discernment

We have a responsibility to listen to and learn from the Spirit. The Holy Spirit teaches us things that we never could have known before receiving him (1 Cor 2:14). He helps us discern right from wrong (1 John 2:27; John 16:13).

It can be easy to forget how to be quiet. We’re busy people. When we’re not busy working we’re busy being entertained. Screens are on our walls, on our desks, in our pockets, and in our hearts. In this environment it’s easy to neglect the teaching of the Spirit. But our duty has not changed. We are called to become people of discernment (Heb 5:14). We are called to listen for God's voice.

Conclusion

You are free to disagree with me about the “Harlem Shake.” But, as a Christian, you are not free to act thoughtlessly. We must give serious thought to our actions so that we can obey the command to “do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor 10:31).

I do not believe we can do the “Harlem Shake” in the house of the Lord in a way that honors God. That puts me in a difficult position. I'm forced to stand up for my conviction no matter what. You may be called to stand up with me. It may cost you something. People may make fun of you or shun you. That's okay. It's a small price to pay to hear Jesus say, "Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master" (Mat 25:23). 

The Suffering of the Impassible God (Introduction)

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. 
Next post Chapter 1

The New Faces of Christianity: Believing the Bible in the Global South

The New Faces of Christianity: Believing the Bible in the Global South

Christianity is increasingly moving to the global South. Africa, South America, and Asia are continuing to see vast numbers turn to Christianity while in North America and Western Europe numbers are stagnating or declining. What will this mean for the shape Christianity will take in the years to come?

In the thralls of the Fundamentalist/Modernist controversy Harry Fosdick asked, “Shall the fundamentalists win?” From Jenkins perspective the answer is clear – the fundamentalists did not win. But what about the Christianity of today and tomorrow? Will the fundamentalists win?

The Anglican church is a prominent example of the different approaches Northern and Southern Christians sometimes take to reading and applying the Bible. Anglicans in the South reject homosexual practices while Anglicans in the North accept those same practices – both based on their reading of Scripture.

Part of what makes it easier for Southern Christians to read the Bible more literally is their relative similarity to the cultures of the Bible. They can identify with the poverty, famine, oppression, competing religions, demon possession, and persecution found in the Bible in ways that many Western Europeans and North Americans cannot. The Bible was not written to a postmodern, postindustrial, and secular audience. It was written to people with much more in common with the people of modern day Zimbabwe than modern day England.

It may just be that the “fundamentalist” readings of the Two-Thirds World will remind North Americans and Europeans of the long forgotten traditions of Christianity. Belief in healing, demon possession, and miracles have been central to the ancient Christian faith. The new face of Christianity may well embrace those beliefs.

This is a fascinating book. Jenkins provides many specific examples of Southern readings of familiar texts. For example, Psalm 23 is used in exorcisms and to denounce oppressive regimes.

Though I didn’t enjoy this one as much as The Next Christendom, I’d still recommend this book. If you read the Bible somewhat like I do (call it “literally” if you like), if you believe there was a global flood, there are real demons, God supernaturally heals the sick, you may struggle to identify with Jenkin’s perspective. His own view gives valuable insight into common Western interpretations of Scripture – however novel and heterodox those readings may be.