Some personal thoughts coming out of the second ‘Trinity Symposium’ at EV Church. Similar to last time, these are my personal reflections – not a summary of what was presented or discussed. It was a great discussion, and I absolutely love that these events happen! A personal highlight was Mark Thompson’s lecture on how we use scripture wisely to talk about God. Not only did he explain this idea well – he modeled it even better, which is – I think – much more important.
I will not carry out my fierce anger, nor will I devastate Ephraim again.
Hosea 11:9
For I am God, and not a man—the Holy One among you. I will not come against their cities.
An impassibility assumed
The broad topic of the symposium was the impassibility of God; he does not change his mind due to external factors, circumstances, or emotions. This impassibility is an extension of his immutability; his nature does not change nor it is affected by external factors. God was, is, and will be pure perfection; the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. His emotions (if we can call them that) do not change his plans, rather they are perfect and real expression of his perfect character; loving, holy, righteous, faithful.
I think everyone agreed with this, there was not clarity. While these classical points of theology were stated, what I think I needed help to grasp was why these things were so important. What are we at risk of losing if we just assume impassibility? What errors might be make if we have a loose impassibility? Why should we be careful to protect it? More than just a passing reference to the believer’s confidence in salvation, what about my suffering, my unsaved child, my deep heartache? What pastoral mistakes will we make if we have a lose (or go loose on) impassibility?
The reality of God’s emotions
The ‘corrective’ about God’s impassibility that was made regularly on the day was that God is not unemotional; the scripture’s words about God’s love, anger, grief, sadness, etc. tell us a true and real things about God. And while impassibility does not mean God has no emotions – it does mean that God’s emotions are not like ours and God is not affected by his emotions like we are. God is creator and we are creatures (when God relents he does it as a God who does not relent like men do – see Psalm 106:45, and 1 Samuel 15:29). This means there is always going to be a trickiness understanding the bible’s emotional language about God – similar to when the bible speaks of God’s arm. God does not have an arm, nor his his strength really that similar to my strength. Yet it’s a true statement that tells us something about God’s power.
However, while the bible is clear that God does not have a body, the bible is also clear that God is love. This emotion – love – is essential to who (and what) God is. Added to this, we have God the Son in human nature, perfectly revealing God. When Jesus longs to gather Jerusalem under his wing, it speaks to God’s longing for sinners to repent. When Jesus weeps at Lazarus’ tomb, it is a picture of God’s heart in the face of death – even though it was a death he planned, permitted, and is just about to reverse partially in a few minutes, as well as completely resurrect in the last day.
So, we must hold to an impassible God who is not swayed by the whims of emotion, and we must hold to an emotional God who feels rightly; he is not stoic. Emotions don’t affect him, but can we say that emotions happen to him? Certainly the scriptures speak of God’s anger being kindled, and God responding to prayer and repentance with compassion and mercy. We must hold God’s unchangeable steadfast character, and yet isn’t it exactly that consistent steadfast character of “hair-trigger mercy” that means God really does feel rightly in response to things? God is not surprised by his response to his creation, he does not change his attitude or decrees based on his emotional response to creation. But that emotional response of grief, anger, wrath, pleading, longing, joy, pleasure is – at that point in time – the perfect response of a perfect unchanging God.
I think I’d say that while God might allow himself to be affected, he himself is never effected.
An ordo affectus?
One way of approaching the idea of the impassible God having emotions is to suggest an order or hierarchy to God’s emotions. Can we speak of God’s love, holiness, faithfulness and righteousness as his essential attributes, and then his “emotions” are expressions of these in different measure? That is, God’s anger is not essential to his being; he is not the eternally angry God. But – in his involvement with his creation – his love, holiness, faithfulness and righteousness are expressed in real and perfect anger at particular times. So, we might say that anger flows ‘down’ from God’s primary emotions, but does not flow back ‘up’ in such a way to threaten God’s impassibility. God is not effected by his real and perfect anger, but we can still say that God was angered – the emotion happened to him, but even then it is an expression of who is truly is, was and will always be.
Again I wish there was more discussion about why this is important and what we might lose if we get it wrong. For example, does our desire to speak of God’s emotions flow out of a cultural tendency towards unrelenting individualism, a demand for emotional understanding, and a all-encompassing mental health lens through which we view the world? And so what if it does? Are we making God in our own image? Is there anything that might stop us saying, “Hey, God gets you. He feels your pain. He’s angry too. He’s sad too.” And, if we say such things, are we exposing the next generation to dangers if we do?
At the same time I do wonder if for many people it is easier to approach a stoic God than an emotional God – especially in suffering. When a mother holds her lifeless child in her arms, it’s very hard to reconcile the idea that God loves more perfectly than she does. In that moment it might be easier to think God is impassive – to the point of uncaring – rather than deal with the existential frustration of an extremely emotional God who still let that child die.
In other words, I’d love a more robust conversation about the dangers to avoid; on one hand avoiding an uncaring immovable God who doesn’t really love you but you can be certain you’re saved. And on the other hand, avoiding a God who doesn’t really give us certainty about the future, but who gives us the emotional certainty that he knows us deeply and walks with us in our pain. I want to think through these two ends of the spectrum – and not just the extremes. I want to think them closer and closer together.
God’s heart at the cross
My final refection is really a frustration. And I want to couch this carefully because I might just have misunderstood – please let me me know if I’m wrong here. I sensed there was a real reluctance to speak of God’s emotions at the cross. I assume there’s a few reasons for this; a reluctance to suggest the word “suffering” implies “emotional suffering”. And we want to avoid Patripassianism and maintain that it was God the Son who suffered on the cross for us and our salvation, not the Father or the Holy Spirit.
And yet, there seemed (and I could be wrong!!) an unwillingness to say God the Father felt anything at the death of his beloved Son. The impassible God – as presented – seemed unmoved at the death of his Son. Whereas I think I want to say from the scriptures that the Father loved the Son at the cross, the Father was pleased with the Son’s obedience and love for salvation and desire to glorify the Father. I also want to say that God in the person of the Father poured out his wrath on the Son; God’s love and anger toward humanity are directed at the Son. And I think there’s a real and “mysteriously” costly aspect between the persons in the mission and suffering of the Son. As the Son gives up his life to death, the Father gives up his only beloved Son. Abraham’s willingness to not withhold his son is surely meant to point us towards a real (yet mysterious) costliness within the Father who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for us all (and yes, I think this is different to Theopaschitism). Or even a joy in the Father who is finally reconciling all things to himself in the glorification of his Son as Lord of all.
These are ideas and possible suggestions… but it’s not nothing. The Father surely feels something at the cross. I’m not suggesting that there is a simplicity to what’s going on there. It’s the cross after all. Everything is happening all at once. But that’s my point – God is being perfectly God at the cross. God is perfectly loving, righteous, faithful, holy, angry, sorrowful, joyous, jealous (and every other good and right emotion) at the cross.
…I think.
Thankfully, we have all of the coming ages to grasp the height, width, depth and breadth of God’s gracious heart displayed to us in Christ.
Thank you Mark Thompson, Andrew Leslie, Andrew Moody, and Andrew Heard for putting on the day!
MINISTRY PRINCIPLES & PRAGMATICS 
Loved seeing you there Dave!
I don’t think that what you sensed was a real reluctance to speak of God’s emotions at the cross, I think it was explicitly rejected. That’s what impassible means.
Emotion, affection and feeling are all words that describe God being impacted by something outside of him (e.g. the Cross, the repentance of sinners, the obedience of the Son). In us, those things “move” us, they put into motion certain feelings, we sense the outside world, we’re affected (*affected* is the passive form of the verb, *effected* is actually the active form).
God’s love for the Son can never be greater than it is. He can’t be moved to MORE love, or less love. His love for us cannot increase or decrease.
So properly speaking, feelings are denied of God by all of the Reformed confessions. “God is without passions.” But if you mean, is the language of feelings appropriate analogically to God? Absolutely, they were very comfortable to affirm that. There’s real revelation of God in the Scriptures, and in his acts in this world, especially the Cross. The real pastoral implication is that the Gospel is based on an impassible God. God is the grounds of the Gospel. And if he can be moved and swayed by his creation, his Gospel rests on shifting sands. But it also means we can trust Scripture. God will be tomorrow what the Scriptures say he is today.
I loved the Bavinck quote Mark showed: “Those who predicate any change whatsoever of God, whether with respect to his essence, knowledge, or will, diminish all his attributes: independence, simplicity, eternity, omniscience, and omnipotence. This robs God of his divine nature, and religion of its firm foundation and assured comfort.” (RD 2, p158).
God is called the Rock, because he’s the firm foundation and assured comfort of true religion. Not as an unmoved mineral that belongs on the periodic table, but the God who is all that he could be in love, power, glory, wisdom. He cannot become greater than he is.
Ben, your definition of “feelings” seems completely based on human feelings. There doesn’t seem to be any room to take God at his word when he says he is love, and that love is a feeling – a feeling does not mean he is changeable or like shifting sands.
Where’s the verse that says love is a feeling for God? 🙂
It definitely is a feeling for us, you’re absolutely right about that.
Let me know when you’ve got that verse. And it can’t be one that is properly about the Son’s human nature.
My understanding is that saying God is love is different from saying that God is loving (paraphrasing Mark). One speaks of his ontology (essence), and the other of an outworking of his ontology (mission).
To say that God feels anger, grief, pain or suffering from something done by creatures is not to say that we’ve changed the essence of God, only that He, because of who he is (just, righteous, holy), chooses to respond in such a way as not to compromise his immutability.
I would describe this response as a mission of God, as grief, suffering, and pain are not essential to his being (which would be a risk I see in not affirming impassibility, that somehow suffering is part of God’s essence, leading to some duality in God, therefore forsaking his simplicity).
However, love is essential, both in being and action, as the Father and the Son are both givers and recipients of love eternally. This doesn’t mean that God is compelled to respond in love to creation (making creation necessary); instead, God, who predestined and foreknew all things, chooses to respond in love of his own will.
To me, here in lies the mystery of the topic, that the God who predestined and foreknew all things genuinely chooses to engage with his creation through time and space, so much so that the Bible speaks the truth when it says that God is grieved by my sin (Another risk I see, going too hard on impassibility, that sin doesn’t genuine grieve God) (The other risk being a lack of confidence in Scripture being a true, reliable, special revelation from the mouth of God, that errs close to calling God a lier)
That’s my 2 cents.
Of course we all believe the Bible speaks the truth always!
The question is what does it mean?
Everything we attribute to God we do so analogically (all of our knowledge of God is ectypal not archetypal).
Some things we attribute to God properly (i.e. as a property). Love is an example of this. God has the property of love. Still we know this analogically. God’s love is omnipotent love, omniscient love, omnipresent love, eternal love, immutable love – we cannot comprehend it, and this love is identical with God’s essence.
Other things we attribute to God improperly (i.e. not as a property). Grief is an example of this. God is Not identical with grief. He is not eternal grief, omnipotent grief, immutable grief. Grief is not properly in God. For emotional language we call this kind of attribution, anthropopathism. This doesn’t mean there’s no revelation, or no truth, but we need to work out what is being revealed. What is proper to God that would be revealed as grief? It could be love, holiness, or something else. Anthropopathism takes a human passion that God can’t properly have, and attributes it to God to reveal something proper about him.
Check out Calvin on Genesis 6:6-7, or a good systematic theology on God’s attributes (especially simplicity), or James Dolezal’s “All that is in God”, or Mark Jones’ new book “God is”.
Thommo referenced Bavinck, he’s great. But any of the Reformed will do.
Ben, I think you’re taking some of my words, but ignoring others. When I say God has emotions (i.e. something that one feels) I’m not suggesting in anyway that God is changeable. God reveals himself as a God who is unchanging, reliable, not the subject of inner (or outer) whims. And God also reveals himself as a feeling God – jealous, caring, angry, loving, moved (in an emotional sense) to compassion.
I just don’t understand the question “What is proper to God that would be revealed as grief?” It’s just a weird question. It feels like counting the number of angels on the head of needle. What is wrong with taking God at his word and saying, “Praise the God who grieves over sin, who is moved to compassion!” while at the same time saying, “Praise the God who is unchanging, eternal, and who’s plans and purposes are unmoved by the creation he has made.”?
Help me understand what you’re so quick to defend against (and maybe with a tad less condescension)?
Eek! Not trying to be condescending but clear! Sorry about that.
The issue is that emotion necessarily involves change. Being moved necessarily involves change. If God wasn’t grieving, and he starts grieving, that necessarily involves change. I agree with “taking God at his word,” but we really need to make sure we understand the author’s intended meaning in those words.
For example: James 1:17 says “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
Malachi 3:6, “For I the Lord do not change: therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.”
1 Samuel 15:29, “the Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret.”
Numbers 23:19, “God is not a man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind.”
Of course, we want to take God at all of his words. So whatever 1 Samuel 15:29 means, it can’t truly contradict 1 Samuel 15:11 “I regret that I have made Saul king, for he has turned back from following me and has not performed my commandments,” or 1 Samuel 15:35, “And the Lord regretted that he had made Saul king over Israel.”
How do we take God at his words? Did He regret, or is it impossible for Him to regret? Genesis 6:5-7 is similar. Hosea 11:8-9 also.
Calvin (and others) suggest that there’s a type of anthropomorphism being used in the passages that describe God regretting. God uses imagery, describing him like a creature, to reveal 1. God’s character and 2. God’s actions, but not to reveal any change in God.
The firsr clue for this is that 1 Sam 15:11 and 35 are first showing God’s action, that he will remove Saul as king and never reinstate him. Second, they are revealing that this action is based in God’s character – he is holy and cannot tolerate sin.
The second clue is that 1 Sam 15:29 explicitly deals with *WHAT* “he is not a man”. See also Numbers 23:19, “God is not a man”. These passages show us that because of *WHAT* God is, regret is actually impossible. All emotion, affection, feeling is impossible as these all require change, and only creatures can change.
The glory of this doctrine is in what it affirms about God. 1 John 4:8-10, “Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” Again in v16,” God is love.”
God is not a man. He is love.
Man’s love is emotional (changing, being moved, increasing, responsive). God is love. Love is a property of God’s. It is” proper” to God. He doesn’t *have love*, he is love.
With grief or regret. We would never say “God IS grief just like he Is love.” We can say “God Is light, truth, love, holiness, righteousness, power” etc. They’re all properties of God. But we don’t say that for grief and the likes. The language of grief is one of those anthropomorphism devices. Grief illustrates for us 1. God will act to deal with the thing causing him *grief*, and 2. this is because of his properties (character), but the Bible rules out the possibility of us saying “yes, God is actually properly truly going through a grieving process right now.” Pastorally, a danger here would be that people think “if I do a better job of obeying God I can speed up the grieving process for him, and hopefully he doesn’t get mad at me either.”
Is that helpful? Where have I missed bits?
Typo!
The second clue is that 1 Sam 15:29 explicitly deals with *WHAT* God is – “he is not a man”.
That’s really helpful Ben! Thanks