The Hellenization Claim — A Brief Critique

The claim, recently, has often been made that the “classical” view of God is illegitimate because it has origins in Greek thought. Greg Boyd may be the most prominent theologian to promulgate this idea, and it has seemingly taken a hold of a swath of Western Christians, both Protestant and Roman Catholic. This has been referred to as the Hellenization of Christian theology, and it asserts that, because these classical doctrines (such as immutability, impassibility, etc.) are rooted in Greek thought, they are illegitimate. However, I want to demonstrate briefly in three elements how this assertion falls flat and ought not be heeded, in any respect. For our object of thought, we will use the doctrine of impassibility, which says that God is in no way subject to changes in his emotive state.

The first avenue in which the Hellenization claim falls apart is one of external consistency in application. It is inconsistent. Concerning impassibility, those who speak against Hellenization say that the idea of an “impassible God” was espoused by Greek philosophers and has no relation to the biblical texts. Further, impassibility is a doctrine that is thrust upon the text without warrant. However, this claim, which hides its counter-proposal (that God is, in fact, passible) cannot be faithfully held if we take the critique seriously. It is true that Greek philosophers espoused impassibility. Heraclitus was one. It is equally true, though, that Greek philosophers, theologians, and the general culture asserted that the gods were intensely passible. Hesiod, for example, portrays the gods in extreme states of emotion—filled and overflowing with lust, rage, malice, joy, etc. If we are to take this critique seriously, we are left with a God who is neither passible nor impassible, since both are portrayed in Greek thought.

The second element of the Hellenization claim which we will address is a failure of internal consistency. If we take the claim seriously, then we have no legitimate reason to stop with these classical doctrines of God and not throw out the rest of Greek philosophy, including the logic systems developed by Aristotle and the peripatetics. It is sheer obstinance to say that impassibility, which is spoken of in Greek philosophy, is illegitimate in Christian theology but we may continue to use the logical system brought to us by the pagan, possibly atheistic philosophers who preceded Christ. Greek thought is Greek thought, whether its philosophical or theological, and yet why ought we use the system of thinking promoted by the Greeks but not the seed of a result thereof?

The third element that betrays the Hellenization claims is a manifestation of the genetic fallacy. And, ultimately, a “genetic fallacy” is all that the Hellenization claim amounts to. It asserts that, because the classical doctrines of God are found in Greek thought, that they are therefore false. This statement is a distraction. A red herring. It says absolutely nothing about the substance of the claim but attempts to demonstrate illegitimacy of the doctrine by pointing to the source.

However, the finger pointing to the source does not point far enough. Christians ought to hold to the this truth:  that all truth is God’s truth, whether it’s a shadow of Christ revealed in the Old Testament Law or a shadow of the nature of God revealed in pagan philosophy. If we left our scientific understanding of the world to Christians, we could very well be left with this. However, we do hold that true truth is from the fount of life, and that a statement left on the tongue of Heraclitus is true if it is true, whether he is Greek or not.

Impassibility is that divine attribute, whereby God is said not to experience inner emotional changes of state, whether enacted freely from within or effected by his relationship to and interaction with human beings and the created order.
To say God is without passions is essentially the commitment that God is in no way changeable with respect to his affections. While Scripture speaks of God in affectionate language, and I may even say very passionately charged language, this doctrine is a negative way of saying that he doesn’t actually have passions, which is in effect to say that he doesn’t actually undergo changes in emotive state.
Owen on Mortification

In The Mortification of Sin in Believers, John Owen prescribes two motivations for pursuing such mortification. Mortification, essentially, is the negative realm of what we call sanctification. It is the putting to death our sinful nature and tendencies. He uses the verse Romans 8:13 as the foundation for this discussion. It reads, “For if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live.” From this verse, Owen draws out his two motivations. The second, and secondary, motivation reads, “The vigor, and power, and comfort of our spiritual life depends on the mortification of the deeds of the flesh.” Your spiritual potency, so to speak, is contingent on the degree to which you put to death your sinful desires. That’s obvious. Pragmatically, your witness is clouded when you continually walk sin. Further, that is one means by which the Spirit is quenched and the fruits stifled. Nevertheless, this is not Owen’s primary motivation. That reads, “God has appointed this means [the mortification of the deeds of the flesh] for the attaining of that end [life eternal], which he has freely promised.” God has chosen that eternal life would be secured by the mortification of the deeds of the flesh by the Spirit. If you do X, it has been promised that Y would occur as a result. As secure as the reality is that you’ll be wet after jumping into water, so secure is it that if you mortify the deeds of your flesh by the Spirit, you will live.

If Christ is our peace, all who are out of him must be at variance with God. What a beautiful title is this which Christ possesses — the peace between God and men! Let no one who dwells in Christ entertain a doubt that he is reconciled to God.
The elements of the plan of salvation are rooted in the mysterious nature of the Godhead, in which there coexists a trinal distinction of persons with absolute unity of essence; and the revelation of the Trinity was accordingly incidental to the execution of this plan of salvation, in which the Father sent the Son to be the propitiation for sin, and the Son, when He returned to, the glory which He had with the Father before the world was, sent the Spirit to apply His redemption to men. The disclosure of this fundamental fact of the divine nature, therefore, lagged until the time had arrived for the actual working out of the long-promised redemption; and it was accomplished, first of all in fact rather than in word, by the actual appearance of God the Son on earth and the subsequent manifestations of the Spirit, who was sent forth to act as His representative in His absence.
Jesus Versus Second Temple Judaism as the Key

Concerning the strange absolutization of Second Temple Judaism as the only proper hermenutical approach.

There is no other book in which there is to be found more express and magnificent commendations, both of the singular liberality of God towards his Church, and of all his works; there is no other book in which are recorded so many deliverances, nor in which the evidences and experiences of the fatherly providence and solicitude, which God exercises toward us, are so celebrated. In short, there is no other book in which we are more perfectly taught the right manner of praising God, or in which we are more powerfully stirred up to the performance of this exercise of piety.
What were the reasons for Calvin’s twenty-five-year-long preoccupation with the book of Psalms? His prefaces to the various editions of the Genevan Psalter, to Louis Bude’s translation of the Psalms, and to his own commentary provide some clues. First, the Psalms teach clearly the human need for God, that is, they provide true self-knowledge, and they urge believers to seek God’s aid. Calvin states on several occasions that the Psalms contain an anatomy of all the parts of the soul, for in them the diligent reader finds a mirror of his own affections and spiritual maladies. Moreover, readers learn about adversity and hope, they are incited to have compassion on those who suffer around them, and they are inspired by zeal for the house of God. Second, having demonstrated the human need for God, the Psalms instruct those who would have their need met with concrete examples of how to attain this. The Psalms provide examples of the proper form of prayer and show believers the kind of requests they are to make of God. Third, the Psalms demonstrate God’s goodness, by which God sweetly invites human beings to seek and to meditate on God’s grace. Thus we see that the Psalms, according to Calvin, when they are read, sung, studied, and explicated, instruct completely about God and about human nature. They provide clear knowledge of God’s goodness and human need; they teach and inspire true piety.
Well-placed shame can be very healthy and redemptive. Paul said to the Thessalonians, “If anyone does not obey our instruction in this letter, take special note of that man and do not associate with him, so that he may be put to shame” (2 Thessalonians 3:14). This means that shame is a proper and redemptive step in conversion and in a believer’s repentance from a season of backsliding. Shame is not something to be avoided at all costs. There is a place for it in God’s good dealings with his people.
It is, however, from the point of view of rationalism and mysticism that the value of apologetics is most decried. Wherever rationalistic preconceptions have penetrated, there, of course, the validity of the apologetic proofs has been in more or less of their extent questioned. Wherever mystical sentiment has seeped in, there the validity of apologetics has been with more or less emphasis doubted. At the present moment, the rationalistic tendency is most active, perhaps, in the form given it by Albrecht Ritschl. In this form it strikes at the very roots of apologetics, by the distinction it erects between theoretical and religious knowledge. Religious knowledge is not the knowledge of fact, but a perception of utility; and therefore positive religion, while it may be historically conditioned, has no theoretical basis, and is accordingly not the object of rational proof. In significant parallelism with this, the mystical tendency is manifesting itself at the present day most distinctly in a widespread inclination to set aside apologetics in favor of the “witness of the Spirit.” The convictions of the Christian man, we are told, are not the product of reason addressed to the intellect, but the immediate creation of the Holy Spirit in the heart. Therefore, it is intimated, we may do very well without these reasons, if indeed they are not positively noxious, because tending to substitute a barren intellectualism for a vital faith. It seems to be forgotten that though faith be a moral act and the gift of God, it is yet formally conviction passing into confidence; and that all forms of convictions must rest on evidence as their ground, and it is not faith but reason which investigates the nature and validity of this ground. “He who believes,” says Thomas Aquinas, in words which have become current as an axiom, “would not believe unless he saw that what he believes is worthy of belief.” Though faith is the gift of God, it does not in the least follow that the faith which God gives is an irrational faith, that is, a faith without cognizable ground in right reason. We believe in Christ because it is rational to believe in Him, not even though it be irrational. Of course mere reasoning cannot make a Christian; but that is not because faith is not the result of evidence, but because a dead soul cannot respond to evidence. The action of the Holy Spirit in giving faith is not apart from evidence, but along with evidence; and in the first instance consists in preparing the soul for the reception of the evidence.
Of course mere reasoning cannot make a Christian; but that is not because faith is not the result of evidence, but because a dead soul cannot respond to evidence. The action of the Holy Spirit in giving faith is not apart from evidence, but along with evidence; and in the first instance consists in preparing the soul for the reception of the evidence.
The subjective experience of faith is conceived to be the ultimate fact; and the only legitimate apologetic, just the self-justification of this faith itself. For faith, it seems, after Kant, can no longer be looked upon as a matter of reasoning and does not rest on rational grounds, but is an affair of the heart, and manifests itself most powerfully when it has no reason out of itself (Brunetière). If repetition had probative force, it would long ago have been established that faith, religion, theology, lie wholly outside of the realm of reason, proof, and demonstration.
No science can arbitrarily limit the data lying within its sphere to which it will attend. On the pain of ceasing to be the science it professes to be, it must exhaust the means of information open to it, and reduce to a unitary system the entire body of knowledge in its sphere. … In the presence of Christianity in the world making claim to present a revelation of God adapted to the condition and needs of sinners, and documented in Scriptures, theology cannot proceed a step until it has examined this claim; and if the claim be substantiated, this substantiation must form a part of the fundamental department of theology in which are laid the foundations for the systematization of the knowledge of God.