Torrance, Hypostatic Union pt 2: Historical Background

(I am posting this material for those who are interested in the history of theology. The doctrine of the hypostatic union as articulated at the Council of Chalcedon (451 A.D.) is one of the "elemental forms" or basic constitutive concepts of T. F. Torrance's doctrine of the mediation of Jesus Christ.)

While the New Testament assertion of a two-fold order of being in Jesus Christ as both Son of God and Son of man is the "foundation datum" of all subsequent christological development, it also contains all the elements of the "christological problem" that would later emerge, particularly in the fourth century: that is, how to define the relation of the divine and human natures in Jesus Christ (Kelly, 1978:138). Despite aberrant forms of christology that had existed as far back as the second century (e.g., Ebionism and Docetism), during the fourth century, especially in the early years of the Arian controversy, issues related to the doctrine of the Trinity outweighed the importance of questions related to christology. Once the question of the divinity of Jesus Christ was considered settled, however, theologians inevitably turned their attention to the relationship between divinity and humanity in the incarnate Son of God (Gonzales, 1987:335, 336).

The Nicene fathers were not content to assert only the consubstantial unity between Jesus and God; they also understood the vital importance of asserting the consubstantial union between Jesus Christ and humanity (cf. Torrance, 1988a:3, 4). In asserting the consubstantial relation between the Father and the incarnate Son, the Nicene Fathers sought to secure "both ends" of the homoousion, that is, the divine and the human. As Torrance notes, "Everything would be emptied of evangelical and saving import if Jesus Christ were not fully, completely, entirely man, as well as God" (Torrance, 1988a:146). Clauses related to the humanity of the Son were added as vital components of the creed (e.g., "He came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, He became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man. For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered death and was buried."). As Torrance notes, those creedal statements that refer to the humanity of Jesus Christ are dominated by a soteriological concern: "for us and for our salvation." The Nicene fathers sought to secure the truth that Jesus Christ is both God and Saviour. The mediation of Christ in reconciliation involved a "two-fold movement," from God to man and from man to God, so that both the divine and human activity of Jesus Christ must be regarded as issuing from one person. In regard to the significance of "both ends" of the Nicene homoousion, Torrance notes, "If Jesus Christ the incarnate Son is not true God from true God, then we are not saved, for it is only God who can save; but if Jesus Christ is not truly man, then salvation does not touch our human existence and condition" (Torrance, 1988a:146-149).

The message of the gospel is articulated in the basic Nicene principle that the human acts of Jesus Christ are the very acts of God. As Torrance (1988a:149) asserts:

In him God has really become man, become what we are, and so lives and acts, God though he is, 'as man for us'. . . . Only God can save, but he saves precisely as man ‒ Jesus Christ is God's act, God acting personally and immediately as man in and through him, and thus at once in a divine and in a human manner.

Notwithstanding the Nicene creedal assertion of the full divinity and full humanity of Jesus Christ, however, the question remained as to exactly "how" the divine and human natures of Jesus Christ are related. Inevitably, the question arose as to exactly "what kind" of human nature was assumed in the incarnation and to "what degree" was it assumed? In regard to this "constant problem of theology," Torrance (2008:182) asks:

[H]ow can we be faithful in our theological statements to the nature of the eternal being of the Son who became man and who yet remains God, and at the same time be faithful to the nature and person of the historical Jesus Christ?

The christological debates of the early church concerned the relation of divinity and humanity in the incarnate Son. These often heated debates took place primarily in the eastern Mediterranean world and were conducted in the Greek language under the ubiquitous influence of the metaphysical presuppositions of Greek philosophy (McGrath, 1998:32). The problem of the relation between the two natures of Christ can be better understood by a comparison of the rival christologies of ancient Alexandria (Egypt), with its Docetic tendencies, and that of Antioch (Syria), with its Ebionite tendencies (Torrance, 2008:198ff).

Alexandrian Christology and Apollinarianism    

The christology of the Alexandrian school was strongly soteriological in character. Redemption was equated with "divinization" or "deification," that is, "being taken up into the life of God." For divinization to occur, human nature must be united with the divine nature; that is, God must be united with human nature in such a way that the latter is enabled to share in the divine life of God. This is precisely what happened in the incarnation: the divine Logos assumed human nature, thereby assuring its divinization. In short, God became human so that humanity may become divine. In regard to the relation between divinity and humanity in the incarnation, Alexandrians emphasised the unity of divine and human natures in Jesus Christ. In addition, they argued that, in the incarnation, there is only one "nature," in that the Logos united human nature to itself. This emphasis on one nature in the incarnation distinguishes the Alexandrian school from the Antiochene school, with its emphasis on the two natures of the incarnate Word (McGrath, 1998:51, 52).

Hinting of Docetism, the Alexandrians regarded the humanity of Christ as a passive, impersonal vehicle for use by the divine Logos, asserting that the humanity did not have a mind and will distinct from that of the eternal Word. By the fourth century, they had developed a "Logos-flesh" christology; that is, an assertion that human flesh, not humanity in its entirety, was assumed in the incarnation. Their assertion of only one nature in the incarnation allowed the Alexandrians to assert the important doctrine of communicatio idiomatum; that is, what is attributed to Christ's humanity may also be predicated of the divine Logos. Unfortunately, they applied this principle in such a way that the human nature of Jesus Christ was severely compromised (Gonzales, 1987:340, 343, 344; McGrath, 1998:52; Olson, 1999:204-206).

Alexandrian christology reached its climax and natural conclusion with Apollinaris of Laodicea (c. 310-c. 390). Because he regarded the human mind as the source of sin, Apollinaris was concerned that the assumption of a complete human nature would compromise the sinlessness of Jesus Christ; thus, he argued that the Logos did not assume a rational human mind in the incarnation; rather, the human mind was replaced by the divine mind of the Logos. Basing his argument on the trichotomist position that humans are composed of body, soul, and spirit (cf. 1Thes 5:23), Apollinaris argued that the soul is the impersonal, unconscious, but vital principle that gives life to the body; the spirit is the seat of personality, that is, the centre of the rational faculties or reason. In the incarnation, the Logos occupies the place of the spirit, so that in Jesus Christ, a human body and soul are joined to a divine reason or mind. In this way, Apollinaris preserved the immutability of the Logos, while solving the problem of how divine and human natures could unite without creating a new nature. Christ is human because he possesses a human body and soul; he is divine because his mind or reason is that of the eternal Logos. Moreover, in harmony with the "Logos-flesh" christology of Alexandria, Apollinaris argued that if a complete human being with its own personality and reason had been united to the Logos, then the incarnation would result in "two persons," one divine and one human. Since the existence of two centres of consciousness, each with an independent mind and will, would undermine the union of divinity and humanity in the incarnation, Apollinaris preserved the unity of the Saviour by asserting the "one nature" of the incarnate Word. Yet, in so doing, he mutilated the human nature of Jesus Christ by taking away its rational faculties and substituting the divine Logos in their place (Gonzales, 1987:346-348; McGrath, 1998:52; Olson, 1999:207, 208).

Opponents of Apollinaris' position, represented by Gregory Nazianzus (329-389), stressed the redemptive importance of the assumption of human nature in its entirety in the incarnation. Because God has assumed human flesh, we are enabled to obtain deification. Accordingly, Nazianzus argued that "what has not been assumed has not been healed"; that is, only those aspects of human nature that are united to the Logos in the incarnation have been redeemed. According to Nazianzus, if we are to be saved in the totality of our humanity, then humanity in its totality must be brought into union with the divine (Gonzales, 1987:349-352; McGrath, 1998:53-55; Olson, 1999:208).

Apollinarianism was officially condemned at the Council of Constantinople (381 A.D.), not because it asserted the one nature of the God-man in the incarnation, but because it denied the full, complete humanity of Jesus Christ. Against Apollinaris, the council asserted that Jesus Christ is "fully human" (Gonzales, 1987:352; Olson, 1999:208; Torrance, 2008:196, 197).

Antiochene Christology and Nestorianism    

Against the more metaphysical soteriology of the Alexandrians, the Antiochene theologians viewed salvation as a wonderful moral-ethical accomplishment wrought by a human being on behalf of all by uniting his will to that of the divine Logos. Given its moral concerns, Antiochene christology emphasized the humanity of Christ, producing a "Logos-man" christology in which the human nature of Christ was not regarded in a passive, instrumental way, but as actively able to obey God. In their concern to preserve the genuineness of the humanity of the incarnate Son, while, at the same time, guarding the transcendent divinity of the Logos against the creaturely contamination of human nature, the Antiochenes emphasized the "distinction" of the two natures of Jesus Christ. In contrast to the "one nature" christology of Alexandria, the Antiochenes defended the "two natures" of the incarnate Son by arguing that Jesus Christ is both God and a human being, possessing both a perfect divine nature and a perfect human nature in "perfect conjunction." Against the Alexandrian insistence on the assumption of a "general" human nature, the Antiochenes argued that the Logos united to a specific human being in the incarnation; that is, the human nature of Christ is a whole and complete person, having an active mind and will. Convinced that the Alexandrian position led to the "mingling" or "confusion" of the divine and human natures, the Antiochenes emphasized their distinct identities, viewing the two natures of Jesus Christ much like water-tight compartments, neither interacting nor mingling with one another, yet held together by the good pleasure of God. Antiochene christology reached a crisis point in the thought of Nestorius (died c.451), who, his critics argued, expressed a doctrine of "two sons," that is, that Jesus Christ was not a single individual but "two persons," one human and the other divine (McGrath, 1998:55-57; Olson, 1999: 205, 206).

Controversy erupted when Nestorius, bishop of Constantinople, forbade the use of the popular term, Theotokos ("God-bearer"), to refer to Mary, the mother of Jesus. Against the Alexandrians, who favoured the term as a logical outcome of their doctrine of communicatio idiomatum, Nestorius, regarding the nature of divinity in the Greek philosophical terms of immutability and impassibility, argued that divine nature could neither be born nor die. Because he believed so strongly in the divinity of the Son, Nestorius resisted any attribution of creatureliness to the incarnate Word, believing that it would confuse the divine and human natures. The humanity is merely the "vehicle" or "instrument" for the use of the divinity and is not the divinity itself. Moreover, Nestorius viewed Theotokos as "crypto-Apollinarian," regarding the title, "God-bearer," as an implication that Jesus Christ was not fully human. In common with Antiochene christology, Nestorius regarded divinity and humanity as mutually exclusive categories; that is, one cannot be both fully human and fully divine. For Nestorius, to say that Mary gave birth to God is to deny the full humanity of Jesus Christ; therefore, he denied the Alexandrian doctrine of communicatio idiomatum as the basis of his rejection of Theotokos (Gonzales, 1987:354, 363, 364; Olson, 1999:211-214).

Nestorius' thinking on the relation between the divine and human natures of Jesus Christ can be viewed as the logical conclusion of Antiochene christology, which emphasized the humanity of Jesus while trying to do justice to his divinity. Nestorius tried to explain the humanity and divinity of the incarnate Son in such a way as to preserve the integrity of both natures. For Nestorius, real humanity cannot exist apart from a specific individual who is the conscious centre of that nature; thus, prosopon ("person") and physis ("nature") go together in both divinity and humanity. In an attempt to avoid the assertion of adoptionism, Nestorius posited a special kind of union between the divine and human natures of Christ, one he referred to as synapheia (L., conjunctio): Jesus Christ is a "conjunction" of "divine nature-person" and "human nature-person," the eternal Logos and the human Jesus in intimate union. Arguing that each nature retains its own predicates, which may not be confused, Nestorius denied the Alexandrian doctrine of the communicatio idiomatum. Thus, he was compelled to assert that the incarnation results in two persons: the Son of God and the Son of Mary. To this union of two persons, we assign the name Jesus Christ (Gonzales, 1987:363; Olson, 1999:215, 216).

Nestorius was opposed by Cyril, bishop of Alexandria (died 444), who considered the former's christology a sophisticated form of the "adoptionism" associated with the Antiochene heretic, Paul of Samosata. The similarity between adoptionism and Nestorianism lay in the fact that, in both, the Son of God never truly enters human existence; rather, the person of the divine Logos remains both distinct to, and different from, the human person of Jesus. Cyril dismissed the "non-interactive" Antiochene model as a mere "conjunction" of natures rather than a genuine union, arguing that it was ineffective in safeguarding the vital soteriological principles at stake in the doctrine of the incarnation (i.e., divinization) (Gonzales, 1987:366, 367; Olson, 1999:216, 217; cf. McGrath, 1998:57-61).

Nestorianism was officially condemned at the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D. Against Nestorius, the council affirmed the unity of the divine and human natures in affirming that Jesus Christ is "one person," not two. Perhaps unfairly, Nestorius is regarded as one of the great heresiarchs of church history, while Cyril is regarded as one of the great defenders of orthodox christology (Gonzales, 1987:367; Olson, 1999:217, 218, 220; Torrance, 2008:197, 200).

Cyril, the staunch opponent of Nestorius, is credited with articulating the basic outlines of the doctrine of the "hypostatic union," the doctrine that became foundational to the orthodox articulation of the mystery of the incarnation of God in Jesus Christ. In brief, the doctrine asserts that the subject of the life of Jesus Christ is the divine Logos, the eternal Son of God, who assumed a human nature while remaining fully divine. Cyril rejected a Nestorian conjunction of natures and replaced it with "hypostatic" union: the union of two realities in the one hypostasis, or "personal subject," of the divine Logos. According to Cyril, there is no human personal subject in the incarnation. While the human nature of Jesus Christ includes every aspect of humanity, that is, body, soul, spirit, mind, will, it lacks an "independent" or "autonomous" personal being over against the Logos. The humanity appears anhypostasia, that is, "impersonal." The hypostasis, or "personal subsistence," of Jesus Christ is the eternal Son of God, who condescended to take on human flesh through Mary. As Cyril argued, Mary gave birth to God in the flesh. Hence, the doctrine of the hypostatic union is the foundation of the communicatio idiomatum. For Cyril, the one personal subject of the eternal Son is both divine and human; thus, because they are one and the same person in two modes of being, it is correct to say that the Son of God was born, suffered, and died, and it is also correct to say that the human Jesus worked miracles and forgave sin (Olson, 1999:218, 219; cf. Gonzales, 1987:366, 367, 378).

The Chalcedonian Definition

Notwithstanding the condemnation of Apollinarianism at Constantinople and Nestorianism at Ephesus, the christological disputes between Alexandria and Antioch continued, with both schools convinced that the christology of the other compromised the doctrine of the incarnation in ways that undermined or destroyed Jesus Christ's ability to save. Antiochene christology continued to emphasize the two natures in such a way as to functionally separate the human from the divine, so that Jesus Christ accomplished salvation as a godly man who fully cooperated with the divine Logos that assumed him. Alexandrian christology, on the other hand, emphasized the role of the divine Logos, who assumes humanity unto himself and, thereby, heals the wounds of sin and death for all who participate in him by faith. Alexandrian christology, with its emphasis on the divine nature of the Logos, reached an extreme point in the monophysite ("one nature") christology of Eutyches. A staunch opponent of Nestorius, Eutyches rejected any assertion of "two natures" after the incarnation and subsequently undermined the humanity of Jesus Christ to such a degree that it seemed to vanish like a drop of wine in the ocean of his divinity. Eutyches' main error consisted in denying the consubstantiality of the Saviour with humanity. In asserting the humanity of Jesus made no difference to the divine Logos, Eutychianism was hardly more than a new form of Docetism (Olson, 1999:222, 223; cf. Gonzales, 1987:370-372).

The differences between Alexandrian and Antiochene christology were finally resolved at the Council of Chalcedon (451 A.D.). Seeking to preserve the truth of both positions, while avoiding the extremes of either, particularly Eutychianism and Nestorianism respectively, the Council reached what is essentially a compromise between the rival positions by affirming that Jesus Christ is "one person" in "two natures." In harmony with the Antiochene position, the council affirmed the real humanity of Jesus Christ and his two natures; in harmony with Alexandrian christology, it asserted that the two natures cannot be separated or divided, but must be held together in one person. Antioch was declared right in its affirmation of two natures, but wrong in its Nestorian denial of the unity of those natures. Alexandria was declared right in its affirmation of "one person" of Jesus Christ, but wrong in the Eutychian denial of the completeness and integrity of the distinct natures of humanity and divinity in their union in Jesus Christ (Olson, 1999:231-233; cf. Gonzales, 1987:380).

At the heart of the "Chalcedonian Definition" (cf. Kelly, 1978:339, 340; Gonzales, 1987:379; Olson, 1999:231, 232) is the "four fences" of Chalcedon: "without confusion, without change, without division, without separation." These phrases serve as boundaries surrounding the mystery of the hypostatic union. "Without confusion, without change" guards the mystery against the monophysite attempt to preserve the one person of Jesus Christ by creating a mixed or hybrid nature from divinity and humanity. "Without division, without separation" protects the mystery from a Nestorian over-emphasis on the distinction of natures, with its tendency to separate them and make two persons of the incarnate Son. In addition, the "Definition" asserts that Jesus Christ is "homoousios with the Father as to his Godhead" and "homoousios with us as to his manhood." Thus, Jesus Christ is both fully divine and fully human. The Definition further asserts that the two natures of Jesus Christ concur "in" one person (prosopon) and one hypostasis, with the properties of each nature preserved. Moreover, despite the omission of Cyril's phrase, "hypostatic union," it is clear that the divine Logos is regarded as the unique subject of the incarnation, as evidenced by the sanction given to the controversial term, Theotokos. Thus, orthodox, catholic belief is that Jesus Christ is God with a human nature, not merely a man elevated into a special relationship with God (Kelly, 1978:341; Olson, 1999:233, 234).

Torrance (2008:83-86) makes the three important points regarding the doctrine of the person of Jesus Christ as articulated at Chalcedon: First, the doctrine of Jesus Christ is the "mystery of true divine nature and true human nature in one person." This is the "heart" of the Christian faith. This mystery cannot be categorized in terms of what we already know; rather, it can be known only out of itself and can only be acknowledged with wonder and thanksgiving; hence, doxology is the "first step" in the doctrine of Christ.

In acknowledging that the mystery can be known only out of itself, Torrance remains true to his scientific methodology, wherein a reality is known only in accordance with its nature and not in terms of antecedent presuppositions or a priori conceptual categories. In assigning primacy to doxology, Torrance maintains his assertion that faith and worship are integral to the epistemological process.

Second, the mystery of Jesus Christ is that true God and true man are united in one person; that is the doctrine of the hypostatic union. Yet, the mystery of Christ can only be stated in negative terms; that is, we can only say what it is "not." The Chalcedonian doctrine of Christ states that divinity and humanity are united in Jesus Christ in such a way that there is no impairing or diminishing of either the divinity or the humanity, and there is neither separation of the natures or confusion between them. This is expressed in the four great negative terms inconfuse ("without confusion"), immutabiliter ("without change"), indivise ("without division"), and inseparabiliter ("without separation").

In noting that the mystery of the hypostatic union can only be stated in negative terms, Torrance is not retreating to a form of apophatic mysticism, wherein descriptions of God can only be stated negatively (i.e., God is "not this"). Rather, notwithstanding the definitive self-disclosure of God in Jesus Christ, wherein God may be known positively according to his nature, we are not given to understand, let alone articulate, exactly "how" divinity and humanity are united in one person; we are given only to know, by faith, that such mystery has occurred in Jesus Christ.

Third, the union of divine and human natures in the incarnation is entirely the result of the transcendent act of the eternal Son in assuming human flesh. As a result of that act, the eternal Son of God, without ceasing to be God, now exists as the man Jesus, who is fully and truly human with his own individual life. On the other hand, apart from the act of God in the incarnation, there would have been no Jesus of Nazareth, so that the humanity of Jesus is grounded in the act of the eternal Word becoming flesh. The doctrine of anhypostasia asserts that the human nature of Jesus exists only in union with God. It has no independent existence; hence, an-hypostasis ("not person", i.e., no separate person). The human nature of Jesus is given existence in the existence of God. It co-exists in the divine mode of being; hence, en-hypostasis ("person in," i.e., real human person in the person of the eternal Son). This means that Jesus has a fully human mind, will, and body, and is in complete possession of all human faculties.

Torrance's assertion of the doctrine of anhypostasia, that is, that there would be no such person as Jesus of Nazareth apart from the incarnation of the eternal Word, rules out adoptionist christologies. Jesus is not merely a man upon whom came the Holy Spirit at his baptism; rather, apart from the incarnation of the Word, he would never have existed. At the same time, Torrance's assertion of the doctrine of the enhpostasia means that Jesus was fully human and, therefore, rules out Docetic, Apollinarian, and monothelist christologies.

As will be shown, Torrance's understanding of the hypostatic union is clearly in line with the Definition of Chalcedon. He adds nothing new to the orthodox understanding of the relation of divinity and humanity in the one person of Jesus Christ; rather, he goes to great length to articulate the epistemological and evangelical significance of the doctrine.

References

Gonzalez, J.L. 1987. A History of Christian Thought (vol 1). Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 400pp.

Kelly, J.N.D. 1978. Early Christian Doctrines. Peabody, MA: Prince Press. 511pp.

McGrath, A.E. 1998. Historical Theology: An Introduction to the History of Christian Thought. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing. 388 pp.

Olson, R.E. 1999. The Story of Christian Theology. Downers Grove, IL: IVP. 652pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1988a. The Trinitarian Faith: The Evangelical Theology of the Ancient Catholic Church. London: T & T Clark. 345pp.

Torrance, T.F. 2008. Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ (edited by R. Walker). Downers Grove: IVP. 371 pp.

Torrance, Hypostatic Union pt 1: Scriptural Witness

(In this blog, I am getting ready to begin a series of posts on the doctrine of the hypostatic union and its constitutive importance in T. F. Torrance's doctrine of the mediation of Christ. As preparation for these upcoming posts, I want first to include introductory material on the scriptural and historical background of this doctrine as articulated at the Council of Chalcedon in 451 A.D.)

The early church declared, "Jesus is Lord" (e.g., Rom 10:9; Phil 2:11), attributing to Jesus Christ a two-fold order of being: "according to the flesh" (kata sarka), that is, as a man, and "according to the Spirit" (kata pneuma), that is, as God (e.g., Rom 1:3ff; 8:9; 2Cor 3:17; Heb 9:14; 1Pet 1:11; 3:18) (Kelly, 1978:138). Jesus Christ is both Son of man and Son of God. This two-fold order of being is, perhaps, no more clearly articulated than in the prologue of the Fourth Gospel (Jn 1:1-18). In proclaiming "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us," John succinctly articulates the mystery that underlies what would later become the doctrine of the hypostatic union of divine and human natures in Jesus Christ. As Torrance (2008:60) notes, John uses Old Testament images and language to expound the incarnation of the Word of God. The eternal Word, who cast his shadow across the history of Israel in the offices of prophet, priest, and king and, above all, in the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, has become flesh and tabernacled among us. According to Torrance, John proclaims that Jesus Christ is the tabernacle of God: the one in whom the glory of God is to be seen has come to dwell among us as one of us. Moreover, the same Word who became flesh is the creator, the one by whom all things are made. Without ceasing to be the eternal Word of God, he has entered creaturely existence in such a way as to dwell in it in personal presence, as "the personal Word" who becomes flesh and effects "personal meeting and faith" with those who receive him. As Torrance (2008:60, 61) notes:

In all this the Word is the Lord God, the subject of the incarnation. He becomes creature in all his sovereign freedom as creator; and without ceasing to be that creator Word he becomes flesh, without any diminishment of his freedom or of his eternal nature. But as the very Word of God and as remaining God's Word in all the fullness of his grace and truth he comes personally to man, light into darkness, declaring and manifesting God in the flesh in a fullness from which we can all receive.

In stating that the "Word became flesh" (Jn 1:14), John means that "the Word fully participates in human nature and existence, for he became man in becoming flesh, true man and real man" (Torrance, 2008:61). Torrance goes to great length to argue that the incarnation is to be understood "as God really become man." Jesus Christ is not merely man "participating" in God but is himself "essential Deity." God did not merely descend on Jesus Christ as on one of the prophets; rather, "in Jesus Christ God came to dwell among us as himself man" (Torrance, 1988a:149, 150). Torrance's understanding of the incarnation is in distinct contrast to adoptionist, Ebionite, Docetic, Nestorian, Apollinarian, and all other christologies that compromise the integrity of the union of divinity and full humanity in the person of Jesus Christ.

Notwithstanding John's assertion that the eternal Word assumed human flesh, however, the doctrine of the hypostatic union of divinity and humanity in the person of Jesus Christ is not explicitly articulated in the New Testament. The doctrine is implied, however, in the narratives of the virgin birth. As Torrance (2008:88, 89) notes, Matthew (1:18) and Luke (1:26-38) describe the virgin birth of Jesus Christ, who is both the divine Son of God and the human Son of Mary. While Mark does not speak specifically of the birth of Jesus, unlike Matthew and Luke, he never refers to Jesus as the son of Joseph, but, rather, as the "son of Mary" (Mk 6:3). In the incident at Nazareth recorded in Matthew, the people describe Jesus as "the carpenter's son," while in the same incident recorded in Luke, they describe him as "Joseph's son" (cf. Mt 13:55; Lk 4:22). Torrance argues that Mark's description of Jesus as "Mary's son" is most "un-Jewish," since calling a man by his mother's name is extremely strange in Jewish speech. Thus, Mark appears deliberately to avoid referring to Jesus as "Joseph's son."

Torrance (2008:89) also notes another passage in Mark (12:35-37), where Jesus says of the Messiah, "David calls him Lord; so how is he his son?" In other words, "How can a divine Christ be born of human stock?" Mark's language fits well with the virgin birth, argues Torrance. While Mark does not explicitly mention the virgin birth, neither do Matthew nor Luke after that point in their narratives from which Mark begins. Thus, far from providing evidence against the virgin birth by his silence about it, Mark's language leans strongly in that direction. As Torrance notes, "In Mark, there are . . . distinct allusions to the supernatural birth of Jesus of Mary."

Returning to the prologue of John's gospel, Torrance (2008:90, 91) finds a reference to the virgin birth in John 1:12, 13: "But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God" (NKJV). Torrance's argument for a reference to the virgin birth concerns the translation of the phrase, "who were born." He argues that the phrase is singular and, thus, should be translated, "who was born," in which case the reference is to Jesus. He argues further that the word translated "man" (andros) should more accurately be translated "husband," which would then properly indicate that Jesus was not born of a human father. Torrance claims that, while the "main manuscripts" (with some exceptions) translate the passage in the plural, "all the available patristic evidence" has it translated in the singular. Torrance also notes that Tertullian (De Carne Christi) charges the Valentinian Gnostics with corrupting the text, changing it from singular to plural, because they were adverse to the doctrine of the virgin birth. In addition, Torrance argues that the singular translation is increasingly followed by modern scholars. Finally, Torrance finds an additional Johannine reference to the virgin birth in the first epistle (1Jn 5:18): "he who was born of God."

Regarding the Pauline corpus, Torrance (2008:92, 93) states that Paul never applies the New Testament word for human birth (gennan) to Adam or Jesus, since neither the first nor the second Adam were "generated" in the usual way; rather, both "came into existence": one from the "earth," the other from "heaven" (cf. 1Cor 15:47). To say that Jesus came "from heaven" is, for Torrance, an "explicit" reference to the virgin birth. Furthermore, Torrance notes that in Galatians 4, Paul uses the usual word for human birth (gennan) three times but uses a different word (ginesthai) when speaking of Jesus. As Torrance argues, "[I]n reference to Jesus' birth [Paul] refuses to use the only word the New Testament uses of human generation. Every time Paul speaks of human birth he uses gennan, but not once when he speaks of Jesus. Every time Paul wants to refer to the earthly origin of Jesus he uses the word ginesthai." Torrance finds here "the strongest disavowal" of ordinary human birth in regard to Jesus.

Therefore, while the doctrine of the hypostatic union is not explicitly articulated in the New Testament, it is clearly supported by scripture. The eternal Word of God was conceived by the Holy Spirit, assumed human flesh from a young virgin and dwelt among us in the person of Jesus Christ, the divine Son of God and the human Son of Mary.

References

Torrance, T.F. 2008. Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ (edited by R. Walker). Downers Grove: IVP. 371 pp.

The Culture of Anger

A new article of mine, entitled, "Why Does God's Grace Make Christians Angry?" has just been published in The Plain Truth Magazine. This magazine seeks to promote the good news of God's unconditional grace as opposed to the legalism that plagues many churches. Their current issue focuses on the "Culture of Anger" in much evangelicalism. To read my article, click on the following link and scroll down to page seven of the magazine. http://ptm.org/10PT/fall/cultureOfAnger.pdf

While you are at it, take a look at my pal Bert Gary's article, published in the same issue, and entitled, "The Prosperity Gospel: God in a Box." Click on the following: http://ptm.org/10PT/fall/godInABox.pdf

Thanks,

Martin

The Doctrine of the Trinity for Non-Theologians, pt 3

(The following is the conclusion of the previous two posts.)

Jesus Our Judge

It should fill us with great joy and assurance to know that this same compassionate Savior, the one whose mercy never fails, even in the face of utter brutality, will be our Judge on the last day. Our loving Father has entrusted his Son with our eternal destinies by turning all judgment and authority over to Jesus himself. According to both scriptural and creedal teaching, none other than Jesus Christ, the friend of sinners who freely offered himself for the sins of the world, will return to judge the living and the dead. As incredible as it may seem, the very one who hung on the cross and prayed, "Father forgive them," is the one who will judge us at the end of our lives, for Jesus tells us that all judgment has been given to him (John 5:22; 3:35; Matt 28:18). In the trenchant words of T. F. Torrance, "The voice of divine forgiveness and the voice of divine judgment are one and the same."(2)

To understand that our Judge is the one who poured out his blood for the sins of all humanity should profoundly move us at the deepest levels of our souls, freeing us from the fear, dread, and anxiety that too often have been heaped wrongfully upon Christians in the name of Christ. We may rest in the assurance that "God does not and will not act toward any one in life or death in any other way than he has done, does do, and will do in Jesus."(3) None other than our loving, compassionate Savior is our Judge. There is no God hidden behind the back of Jesus before whom we, in our guilty consciences, must shake with dread and terror. When Jesus tells us that he who has seen him has seen the Father, he leaves no room for fear and dread, for the hearts of the Father and Son are one. Our lives, our deaths, our final destinies are in the hands of God, and the hands of God and the hands of Jesus are the same. (4)

The Judge Judged in Our Place

Moreover, at the cross God not only judges our sins; he takes upon himself the verdict and judgment that should have been ours. As such, to borrow another phrase from the great Karl Barth, he is "the Judge judged in our place."(5) As shocking as it may seem, we human beings no longer occupy the place of sinners in the sight of God. Jesus himself has stood in our place and made our just punishment his own. The Bible says that "God made him who knew no sin to become sin for us that we might become the righteousness of God" (2Cor 5:21). "The verdict that ought to have been ours was pronounced and executed on him, so that an end was made with us as sinners so that as such we have no more future. We are no longer in the place we occupied when we were sinners. This place is now occupied by him."(6) In short, Jesus Christ has taken away the sin of the world, long before you or I made a decision to believe and recited the sinner's prayer. Thus when we stand before the judgment seat of God, we no longer stand before him as condemned sinners, for our sin is no longer or own; it is his, for Jesus has made it his own.(7) He has borne our judgment upon the cross and has taken our sin upon himself (2Cor 5:21).

I do not believe that the primary purpose of the cross is the punishment of sin or even the forgiveness of sin. I think what Jesus has done on the cross is far more basic and fundamental than merely taking upon himself the punishment that might have been ours. What Jesus has done at the cross is to overcome human sin by finally laying Adam to rest so that the human race no longer stands condemned under Adam, but stands as pardoned, redeemed and reconciled under Jesus. The Bible tells us that as in Adam all die, in Jesus all are made alive (1Cor 15:22). If you look at Romans 5:12ff, you will see an ongoing contrast between Adam and Jesus. Scripture portrays Adam as somehow representing all humanity. There are different theories as to how we are all implicated in Adam's act, yet the theories assert that we are all connected to Adam in a very real way. The disobedience, condemnation and death that came as a result of Adam's sin have fallen upon us all. Because we are all somehow implicated in the sin of Adam, we are all subject to death as a result of that one primordial sin. At the same time, just as all are implicated in the disobedience of Adam, so all are implicated in the obedience, justification and life that are brought by Jesus. To be sure, Jesus is greater than Adam. All that was lost in Adam has been restored in Jesus―and more!

How is the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross related to Adam? In his unbounding love for humanity, the Word of God takes on human flesh at Bethlehem (John 1:14). Jesus takes on real flesh, not some pristine immaculately conceived flesh. Jesus becomes a human being in every way that we are human. In more technical terms, he assumes fallen Adamic flesh. Then on behalf of all humanity, Jesus lives the life of perfect faith and obedience that you and I have failed to live. He does for us all the things we have failed to do, and he refuses to do the sinful things we have done. In his life of unrelenting obedience to the Father, Jesus lives vicariously for us in the sinful flesh of Adam, converting our rebellious hearts and minds and bending our twisted sinful flesh back to the Father. When Jesus dies on the cross, he puts the flesh of Adam to death; Adam is finally laid to rest and buried. Then Jesus rises from the dead as the new Adam. Now Jesus, not the old Adam, is the head of the human race. In the same way that all humanity was implicated in the sin and disobedience of the first Adam, now all humanity is implicated in the obedience and life of the second Adam. Just as all die in the first Adam, all are made alive in him (Rom 5:12-20). In Christ, God has reconciled the world to himself (2Cor 5:19).

Free to Forgive

What would happen if we could truly and fully realize that all humanity is included in the loving embrace of the Triune God? To bring it closer to home, what would happen if each one of us could truly believe that we no longer stand as sinners in the sight of God? We have all made Adam greater than Jesus. We have been unwilling to take seriously the biblical truth that Jesus, the Lamb of God, has taken away the sin of the world (John 1:29). Therefore, for centuries, the free salvation garnered us by the incarnate Son who died and the loving Father who gave him up for us in the Spirit has been buried under human-imposed conditions for salvation, so that we are heavily laden with rules, regulations, and other requirements for entrance through the gates of heaven. Furthermore, we have been willingly complicit, for, like the laborers in the field (Matt 20:1-16), we are offended by the sheer gratuitousness of grace. Apparently many think God's gift of salvation should be offered only to those who conform and comply with the rules, however they may be variously defined. Thus, we have burdened ourselves and our fellows with ethical prescriptions, rules, and regulations designed to set us apart and mark us as the chosen.

It is, therefore, precisely because we do not realize we no longer occupy the place of sinners in the sight of God that we expend so much energy trying to improve our standing before our heavenly Father. Our failure to realize we are forgiven compels us to perform to gain God's approval and is at the root of the "works" mentality of legalism that drives not only many individuals, but whole churches and denominations. Failing to realize we know longer stand before God as sinners, we are unable to enjoy the peace that transcends all understanding (Phil 4:7), choosing instead to pursue the frenetic path of performance in hopes of pleasing God.

Yet, paradoxically, as soon as we accept God's forgiveness and realize we no longer stand before God as sinners, we are free to accept ourselves as the sinners we are. When we understand that God has, in fact, confronted, named, and judged our sin on our behalf at the cross, we are free to stop denying and repressing our sin, to drop our masks (especially our smiley church faces), and to walk in the immeasurable freedom of the forgiveness provided us nearly two thousand years ago. When we realize that God accepts us as we are, we are free to accept ourselves as we are.

In addition, when we realize that we no longer stand as sinners in God's sight, we are free to step down from the judgment seat that rightfully belongs only to Jesus and to accept others as the sinners they are. Because we have not seen that we no longer occupy the place of sinners, we too readily judge those who values and lifestyles fail to meet our approval. Nonetheless, while it may be shocking to realize that we Christians no longer occupy the place of sinners, it is even more shocking, perhaps intolerable for many, to realize that all the "worldly" people around us also no longer stand before God as sinners. The Lamb of God has taken away the sin of the world―even the sins we do not approve.

Our job, as Christians, is to announce the Good News that "in Christ, God has reconciled all things to himself." That is the passionate assertion that empowered the early Church and enabled them to spread the Good News about Jesus all over the known world.

That brings us to the important matter of our "witness" for Christ. How does it affect our witness to know that all those "worldly" people out there no longer occupy the place of sinners in the sight of God? How does it affect our witness to know that we will never meet another human being who is not already reconciled to God in Christ? Surely it will allow us to throw away all our "repent or burn" tracts because we no longer feel compelled to proclaim a "bad news" gospel that God is outraged at the world and is looking for every chance to throw as many as possible into hell unless we repent and behave.

Yet to know that in Christ God has reconciled all things to himself does not free us from the responsibility as the Church to proclaim the Good News of universal reconciliation in Christ, for though all are reconciled in Christ, not all live reconciled lives. Many continue to live un-reconciled lives; they live in darkness and confusion, not knowing they are embraced by the Father; thus, they suffer all the heartache and pain that living an un-reconciled life brings. Our job as the Church is to proclaim to everyone that they are free in Christ, so act like it!

Our Response

Let's end now on a more personal note. God's gracious condescension to humble himself, to bear scorn and humiliation for us at the cross, demands a response on our part. We are summoned to a life of faith in Jesus Christ. Yet our faith is not a precondition for our reconciliation with the Father; our faith is the conscious, joyful acceptance of our reconciliation.(9) We respond to God's immeasurable graciousness on our behalf, when in humble gratitude we place our faith in our Savior, bow to his Lordship, and live according to his commandment of love. Our repentance, faith and obedience, however, are never conditions for our forgiveness; our repentance, faith and obedience are the consequence of our forgiveness. In short, we do not obey to be saved; we obey because we are saved! What more sane response could there be to the salvation that is already ours than a humble willingness to obey our Lord, not out of fear of punishment nor dread of awful judgment, but from a heart filled with gratitude for the immeasurable self-giving of God for all humanity.

At the cross we see God's righteous "No" to sin and God's gracious "Yes" to us, for real judgment is rendered at the cross, and real pardon is rendered to us. In his unfailing love for humanity, God has done for us what we could never do for ourselves. In the determined love wherein he wills to share his Triune life with us, the Father sent his Son to bring us home in the Spirit. In the words of the Apostle Paul, "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" (Rom 8:31, 32).

References

1. T. F. Torrance, A Passion for Christ: The Vision That Ignites Ministry (Edinburgh: Handel Press, 1999), p. 14.

2. Ibid., p. 15.

3. Ibid., p. 16.

4. Ibid., p. 17.

5. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, translation edited by G.W. Bromiley and T.F. Torrance (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1957-75), 4/1, pp. 211ff.

6. Eberhard Busch, The Great Passion: An Introduction to Karl Barth's Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), p. 208.

7. Barth, p. 238.

8. Busch, p. 207.

9. Ibid., p. 216.

The Doctrine of the Trinity for Non-Theologians, pt 2

(The following is a continuation of the previous post.)

A Window into the Heart of God

As with all the acts of Jesus, the cross must be considered in terms of the oneness in being and agency of the Father and Son. We cannot understand what is happening at the cross if we fail to understand that the Father and Son are united in intent, purpose and will. In reflecting upon the meaning of the cross, we must always bear in mind that the heart of the Father is not different from the heart of the Son.

The cross of Christ is the ultimate demonstration of God's unfailing love for humanity. To know that God is love, we need only look at Jesus on the cross, for in that act, Jesus, who is of one being with the Father, reveals the heart of God. According to the great theologian, T. F. Torrance, the cross is a window into the innermost heart of God, wherein we see the exact nature of God's love for the whole world. In giving himself for us at the cross, God proves that he loves us more than he loves himself (1).

The Friend of Sinners

In order to understand that the cross is a window into the heart of God, we need only take a moment to picture what happened at Golgotha, the place of crucifixion. Jesus hung on a cruel, rough Roman cross, his hands and feet pierced with heavy spikes. His open wounds burned as stinging salty sweat poured into the raw gashes across his back. Only minutes before he had been brutalized at the hands of a garrison of soldiers who stripped him naked, beat him without mercy, and mocked him with a crown of thorns. As he hung on the cross, his lips parched with thirst, leering onlookers jeered him, mocking him to free himself from his horrible impalement. So obscene was his mistreatment that even the heavens revolted and the earth shuddered in revulsion (Matt 27:45, 51). As his blood oozed from his wounds, flowing downward toward the battle-hardened soldiers casting lots for his garments, he looked upon the taunting crowd. Yet his heart was not filled with hatred or righteous anger or thirst for revenge. Neither was he moved to avenge himself and execute terrible wrath upon those who had brutalized him. Rather, he looked upon his cruel tormentors with incomprehensible care, compassion, and love. While he could have called down heavenly legions to avenge him, instead, with unfathomable love for humanity, he prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34).

Jesus has encountered humanity at its worst, yet he prays for forgiveness of the very ones who have brutalized and abused him. Perhaps we should not be surprised by Jesus unfailing compassion, for his care for sinners did not emerge only at the cross. Jesus' prayer for forgiveness springs from the compassionate heart that, even now, continually goes out to sinners (Heb 7:25). To be sure, the religious elite impugned Jesus because they knew that he was, indeed, the friend of sinners (Luke 7:34). Jesus constantly aroused the ire of the religious leaders because he frequently sat at table fellowship with unsavory characters like tax collectors and others who failed to adhere to the burdensome rules and regulations heaped upon them by the religious authorities (Matt 9:10-12). Moreover, while at table with a prominent Pharisee, Jesus allowed a woman of ill repute to wash his feet with her hair (Luke 7:36ff). When he was alone and thirsty, he defied tradition by stopping at a well to converse with a woman of mixed race, a Samaritan whom most Jews would have regarded as worse than a dog, and even more so because she had been married five times and was presently living with yet another man (John 4:4ff).

On one memorable occasion, the religious authorities brought a woman caught in adultery before Jesus for judgment. Yet not only did he refuse to stone her as the law required, but also he refused to condemn her. Instead, he told her to leave her life of sin (John 8:11). Yet, what would have happened had that same woman been brought before Jesus the next day, caught yet again in the act of adultery? The answer is not difficult. Jesus told his followers that if anyone sinned against them, they were to forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven times (Matt 18:21-22). Dare we think that Jesus offers any less forgiveness than he commands his disciples to render? Dare we think that the Father, whose heart is as equally compassionate as that of the Son, will do any less?

Often, however, we are unsure of the Father's intentions towards us, because we have failed to allow the Son to reveal the Father. Despite the apostle John's assertion that the Son has made the Father known (John 1:18), much "Christian" preaching and teaching splits apart the unity of God by pitting the merciful, compassionate Son against the bloodthirsty, vengeful Father, whose apparent sole delight is to dangle sinners over the mouth of hell, even in the face of Jesus' pleading on our behalf. How did this come about? Where did we get this split view of God that pits a loving Jesus against a bloodthirsty Father?

Sometime around 1,000 years after the time of Christ, theologians began to speak about the cross as something that was needed to "satisfy" God. They portrayed the Father as a "feudal Lord" or majestic King whose honor had been offended by the human race. These theologians argued that God's honor needed to be "satisfied." A few centuries later, during the Protestant Reformation, a slightly different spin was added to that view of the cross. The Reformers began to talk about the cross in terms of the payment of a penalty. Humanity has sinned and someone has to pay. The Father is angry; he is livid with rage, spitting nails in fury; he cannot stand the sight of sinful humanity; he's out for blood. According to this theory, Jesus the meek and mild Lamb of God enters the picture and volunteers to take our punishment upon himself. As Dr. Baxter Kruger says, Jesus comes in order to "take a whippin'" from the Father. This is the view that is commonly held by most conservative and fundamentalists Christians. This is the view that I held for many years. But no longer.

This wrong-headed view of the Father as vengeful Judge is contrary to the revelation of God in Jesus Christ. It creates a split or divide in the Godhead itself by pitting the compassionate Son against the vengeful Father. Yet Scripture tells us that Jesus came to do the works of the Father (John 5:19, 20). Jesus does nothing of his own; he does only what the Father wills. Therefore, there is no division between the will of the Father and the Son. Jesus came to show us that his own compassionate heart is the perfect reflection of the compassionate heart of the loving Father (cf. Luke 15:11ff). The hearts of the Father and Son are united in loving care for all humanity (cf. John 3:16; 17). We must not create a split in the heart of God by talking about a compassionate Jesus while, at the same time, talking about an angry vengeful Father. The Church's early assertion that Jesus and the Father are one in being will not allow us to do that. The Father and Son (and Spirit) are united in their loving purpose for humanity. To borrow a phrase from T.F. Torrance, there is no unknown God hidden behind the back of Jesus, for Jesus is the revelation of God. If you want to know the Father's heart, look at the heart of his Son, for the two hearts beat as one. This means that Jesus Christ, the Godman who walked this earth on two sandaled feet 2,000 years ago allows us to see into the very Being or nature of the eternal God. If we want to know what God is like, we must look at Jesus.

Pappa

When we finally understand that the heart of the Father is not different from the heart of the Son, perhaps we can begin to think of the Father as Jesus did. Jesus called the Father "Abba," a term of endearment that means something like "daddy" or "papa," as used so effectively by Paul Young in his book, The Shack. One of my favorite analogies of the "papa-hood" of God comes from the Kennedy White House. The JFK presidency marked the first time in many decades that small children had lived in the White House. When President Kennedy, the most powerful man in the world, was meeting with heads of state in the Oval Office, he had a standing rule that his children were allowed to enter at any time. Often, during an important political discussion, President Kennedy's children would dash into the Oval Office and jump into their father's lap, climbing all over him and his great presidential chair. Nothing in world politics was so important that the Kennedy children were prevented from visiting their father. That is a great image of our heavenly Father. Papa's door is always open to us and he is never too busy to welcome his children who long to dash into the heavenly Oval Office in order to be embraced by their loving Father.

As we continue to think about Jesus and his oneness in being and agency with the Father, let us allow all images of a harsh, vengeful God to fall away, so that we may rest in the arms of "Pappa."

(To be continued)

References

1. T. F. Torrance, A Passion for Christ: The Vision That Ignites Ministry (Edinburgh: Handel Press, 1999), p. 14.

The Doctrine of the Trinity for Non-Theologians, pt 1

This month, I want to take a break from high-flying theology and write about our loving God in everyday language. This is the first of three posts on the Trinity, written in non-theological language, so that normal people can enjoy it! These three posts are actually the text of a one hour sermon I was privileged to give at a great little church in east Texas.

If you could describe God in one word, what word would you use? No doubt there may be many one-word descriptions of God; these descriptions vary from denomination to denomination. Some groups say that God is "sovereign"; others insist that God is "holy". But what one word did the Apostle John use to describe God? John said, "God is love" (1John 4:8, 16). Note what John is saying: God is love. Love is not one characteristic among many other characteristics of God; love is not something God does; love is what God is, or better yet, love is who God is. This means that every act of God flows from an unlimited fountain of love, the love that God is by his very nature.

Yet, how does John know that God is love? In his First Epistle John says, "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life . . . that which we have seen and heard we declare to you . . ." (1Jn 1:1, 3). Who or what is John talking about? He is talking about Jesus. He wants to declare to us the things he has seen, heard and touched regarding Jesus. John knows that God is love because John knows Jesus! What John has done is to give us an important lesson in epistemology and methodology: If we want to know about the nature of God, we start with Jesus, because Jesus is the self-revelation of God.

But what does it mean to say that Jesus is the self-revelation of God? How does Jesus reveal the Father? How do we get from the rabbi of Galilee to the heart of the Triune Godhead? These questions occupied the minds of the greatest thinkers in the early Church as they contemplated the meaning of the scriptures that pertain to Jesus' relationship to God.

Jesus portrayed his essential relationship with the Father in simple terms: He said, "I and the Father are one" (John 10:30), and "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" (John 14:9). Moreover, the apostle Paul asserts the oneness of Jesus and God. He writes, "In Christ, all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form" (Col 2:9), while the writer of Hebrews assures us that the incarnate Son is the "exact representation" of God's being (Heb 1:3). Finally, the Apostle John writes, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:1, 14). Not only that, John tells us that this Word has made the Father known (v 18).

What was the early Church to make of the scriptural account of Jesus' relationship to God? How could the Church take these varied New Testaments scriptures about Jesus and put them together in a coherent and meaningful way? To make sense of the biblical witness of Christ was something the Church was forced to do because some said Jesus was not fully God. They wanted to say that Jesus was merely an exalted creature, perhaps like a great archangel, but he was not fully divine. Under the leadership of the great Athanasius, the Church was compelled to answer those who would deny the full divinity of Jesus, for as Athanasius understood, if Jesus is not fully God, we are not saved, for only God can save.

In the fourth century, the leaders of the Church gathered together at a little town called Nicaea in order to collectively hammer out a coherent summary of the New Testament witness to the exact relationship between Jesus and God. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, they carefully and prayerfully contemplated the biblical witness to Jesus Christ, and collectively realized that the incarnate Son is one in being and identity with the Father. The Church Fathers enshrined their insights into the Nicene Creed, wherein they asserted that Jesus Christ is "God of God, Light of Light, Very God of very God, Begotten not made, Of one being with the Father."

It's that last phrase that I want to focus on. The early Church said that Jesus is "of one Being with the Father"; that is, Jesus is one in "nature" or "essence" with the Father. Said another way, Jesus is of the same "God stuff" as the Father; he is just as much God as is the Father; he is equal with the Father in every way. At the same time, Jesus is not the Father and the Father is not the Son. While Jesus and the Father are one in Being or nature, they are distinct in personhood.

To say that Jesus is one in being with the Father is also to say that the acts of Jesus are the acts of God. In more precise terms, it is to say that Jesus and the Father are one in being and agency. That means that the Father and the Son (and the Holy Spirit) always act with harmony of intent, purpose and will. We should not be surprised to know that there is complete harmony in the acts of Jesus and the acts of the Father, for Jesus said:

I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does. . . (John 5:19, 20a).

Thus, Jesus acts in complete harmony and purpose with the will of the Father. In simpler terms, this means that the compassionate loving acts of Jesus reveal the Father's heart, for to say that Jesus and the Father are one, not only in Being, but in activity as well, is to say that the heart of the Father is not different from the heart of the Son. Thus, in the self-giving loving acts of Jesus, we see the Father's will being done. This means that all the good things we say and believe about Jesus apply just as much to the Father.

Doctrine of the Trinity

To say that Jesus is one in being and agency with the Father as attested by the early Church brings us to the doctrine of the Trinity. In many churches, it is common to hear that the doctrine of the Trinity is the most mind-boggling, incomprehensible subject in all of Christian theology. In fact, there is a standard joke that preachers use on Trinity Sunday that goes like this: The preacher comes to the pulpit and announces that it is Trinity Sunday, and he has a duty to preach on the subject of the Trinity. Then he says, "But the doctrine of the Trinity is so mind-boggling, so incomprehensible, so far beyond human understanding that there will be no sermon today." I am sorry to say that I have told this joke myself when it was my turn to preach on Trinity Sunday.

All of that is simply wrong, however. While it is true that we finite humans are incapable of understanding all there is to know about the infinite God, it is not true that the doctrine of the Trinity is beyond our understanding. The whole point of a doctrine is to put into words, as well as we can, what we do know about God based upon God's self-revelation of himself.

So why is there a doctrine of the Trinity in the first place? Why does the Christian Church speak of God as one Being in three Persons? The reason we speak of God as one being in three persons is because that is how God has revealed himself to us. The doctrine of the Trinity is nothing more than an attempt to make sense of the fact that God has revealed himself in salvation history as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Put yourself in the place of the first Christians. Most of them were Jews. Contrary to all the cultures around them who worshipped many gods, the Jews had always believed in one God. Yet the early Church believed that Jesus Christ is God, as the Scriptures attest. They also believed that the Holy Spirit is God, again as the Scriptures attest. In fact, they worshipped, prayed, and baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I doubt all this was something the first Christians thought much about. In fact, most of them were slaves who were unable to read and write. So I doubt they were overly concerned about how the worship of three Persons fit into their doctrine of one God. The first Christians simply believed that God had come among them in the Person of Jesus Christ and that God continued to be present to them in the Person of the Holy Spirit.

Soon enough, however, the early Church came under attack regarding its doctrine of God. Pagan philosophers began to accuse Christians of worshipping three Gods, not one. They demanded to know how Christians could claim to worship only one God when in fact they prayed and worshipped in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Someone had to answer these questions if the Gospel was to retain its theological and philosophical integrity in the cultural environment in which it was spreading. So theologians of the early Church began to think about and to articulate how God can be one Being in three Persons. It took the early Church more than three hundred years to finally articulate what we know today as the orthodox statement of the Trinity as enshrined in the ancient creeds of our faith.

Now let me tell you what the doctrine of the Trinity does not say. The doctrine of the Trinity does not say, as is often wrongly supposed, that one equals three or three equals one. The doctrine of the Trinity does not say that God is only one Person who wears three different hats. Nor does the doctrine of the Trinity say that there are three gods out there, all going their own separate ways.

The classic statement of the doctrine of the Trinity says that God eternally exists as "one Being in three Persons." Said another way, God is of one essence or nature in three distinct Persons. The doctrine is saying that God is both a unity, that is, God is one, and that God is also a diversity, that is, God is three. To say that God exists in both unity and diversity is not as difficult as it may at first seem. We deal with unity in diversity every day. Look at your hand. There is one hand in five fingers. Unity in diversity. Think about a cluster of grapes. There is one cluster with many grapes. Unity and diversity. Think about all the people in any Sunday morning worship service. There is one congregation with many members. That's unity and diversity. Think about a husband and wife. The Bible tells us that the two shall become one flesh. Again, that's unity and diversity. So unity in diversity is something we are all familiar with. None of these analogies are perfect of course; far from it. I can pluck off a grape from the cluster and eat it. I can lose a finger in an accident. A married couple can get divorced. But the three Persons of the Godhead can never be divided. They exist eternally in union and fellowship without division. Despite the imperfection of analogies, however, they help us to understand how God is both one and three, that is, that God eternally exists in both unity and diversity in a triune fellowship of reciprocal love and delight marked by complete harmony of purpose, will and intent.

Bearing in mind the unity of purpose of the Triune fellowship that we call God, let's consider the oneness in being and agency between the Father and Son in the light of the cross.

(To be continued)

Torrance: Evangelical Significance of the Homoousion

In the last several posts, we have considered the importance of the Nicene homoousion as it relates to epistemology. In plainer language, we have examined the importance of the creedal assertion that Jesus Christ is "of one being with the Father" (homoousios to Patri) in regard to the knowledge of God. We saw that Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, is the definitive self-revelation of God. All human attempts to arrive at knowledge of God apart from, or behind the back of Jesus, ultimately fall short in the light of God's self-disclosure in Christ.

In the present post, we will consider the evangelical significance of the homoousion; that is, we will examine the significance of the consubstantial Father-Son relation for human salvation. In addition, we will consider the vital pastoral implications of the oneness in being between Jesus and God.

The material contained in this post is among the most important ever published on this blog. The material you are about to read is the heart of the hopeful, uplifting theology of T.F. Torrance. The ideas discussed below are what compelled me to learn more about his inspiring theology.

The Evangelical Significance of the Homoousion

Not only is the Nicene homoousion epistemologically vital to our understanding of the nature of God; there are important soteriological (salvific) considerations to the consubstantial Father-Son relation. To be sure, the Nicene homoousion did not arise from abstract, detached metaphysical arguments about the nature of a distant and impersonal deity. Rather, the fathers understood that the theological debates of their time concerned the foundational message of the Gospel: "for us and for our salvation" (this phrase is from the Nicene Creed). In their debates with the Arians, nothing less than the evangelical message of human salvation was at stake.

For Torrance, the soteriological implications of the consubstantial Father-Son relation, that is, the "evangelical significance of the homoousion," can be better understood by posing a vitally important question: "What would be implied if there were no oneness of being between Jesus Christ and God the Father?"

Comment: What Torrance is asking is this: What would it mean if Jesus is not God?

As Torrance rightly argues, if Jesus Christ were not homoousios to Patri, but rather created out of nothing, as Arius declared, then Jesus would remain "external" to God and altogether different from him; thus, God would remain utterly unknowable, for no "creature," however, exalted, can mediate authentic knowledge of God. "If what God is in himself and what he is in the Lord Jesus Christ were not the same, there would be no identity between God and the content of his revelation and no access for mankind to the Father through the Son and in the Spirit. Hence we would be left completely in the dark about God." Consequently, the Church would be left to pass off as "revelation" not something received from beyond itself but merely a "mythological" fantasy projected from a centre in human consciousness (Torrance, 1988a:132-134).

Comment: Torrance is asking, What if Jesus is merely a less than fully divine "creature" (created being) as the Arians argued (or as the Jehovah's Witnesses and other cults argue)? Jesus would then be "external" to God (as are all created things); hence, Jesus could not give us "inside" information about the nature of God, for Jesus would not be "of one being with the Father." We would be left "in the dark" about God and all our talk about God would be little more than "mythology" (rather than "theology").

Torrance (1988a:134) asks, "What kind of God would we have, then, if Jesus Christ were not the self-revelation or self-communication of God, if God were not inherently and eternally in his own being what the Gospel tells us he is in Jesus Christ?" He poignantly answers:

Would "God" then not be someone who does not care to reveal himself to us? Would it not mean that God has not condescended to impart himself to us in Jesus Christ, and that his love has stopped short of becoming one with us? It would surely mean that there is no ontological, and therefore no epistemological, connection between the love of Jesus and the love of God ‒ in fact there would be no revelation of the love of God but, on the contrary, something that rather mocks us, for while God is said to manifest his love to us in Jesus, he is not actually that love in himself.

If the Nicene homoousion were not true, the Gospel would lack any 'realist' (i.e., occurring in space-time history) foundation in the self-revelation and self-communication of God in Jesus Christ. The integrity of the Gospel, therefore, depends on the unity of being and act between Jesus Christ and the Father. The homoousion asserts the unity of the "I am" of the Father (Ex 3:14) and the "I am" of Jesus Christ (Jn 11:25; 14:6; 15:1, 5), for the incarnate Son of God is the "place" where we may know the Father as he is in himself, in accordance with his divine nature, so that we may draw near to him through his reconciling and saving activity toward us. As Torrance argues, "The homoousion asserts that God is eternally in himself what he is in Jesus Christ, and, therefore, that there is no dark unknown God behind the back of Jesus Christ, but only he who is made known to us in Jesus Christ" (Torrance, 1988a:135; 1996a:17, 18, 124, 125).

Comment: We may take great assurance in knowing there is no "dark, unknown" God hidden behind the back of Jesus, but only the God revealed in the compassionate eyes of our loving Saviour. The pastoral implications are enormous (see below).

In addition to the unity of being between the Father and Son, another vital aspect of the evangelical significance of the homoousion is the all-important issue of the unity of agency. Again, Torrance asks: "What would be implied if there were no oneness in act between the incarnate Son and God the Father?" Torrance asserts that the Nicene homoousios to Patri implies not only a oneness in 'being' between the Father and Son but also a oneness in 'act', as evidenced by Jesus' words, "My Father works hitherto and I work" (Jn 5:17). The homoousion implies that the Father and Son are one in agency as well as being, so that the work of the Father cannot be divided or separated from the work of the Son. Because there is an unbroken homoousial relationship between the Father and the Son, the acts of Jesus are the acts of God. If the actions of Jesus are not inherently the acts of God, then the "bottom falls out" of the Gospel. If what Christ has done for us is not the work of God, but merely the work of a godly man (as in much liberal theology), then he does not embody in his incarnate constitution the saving grace of God and, thus, is incapable of truly divine activity. "On the other hand," as Torrance argues, "if Jesus Christ cannot be divided in being and act from God the Father, then he constitutes in being and act in his incarnate presence or saving economy the creative self-giving of God to mankind" (Torrance, 1988a:137, 138).

Comment: The acts of Jesus are the very acts of God. What the Father does, the Son does; what the Son does, the Father does. The Nicene homoousion means that Jesus and the Father are one in both being and act (agency).

The evangelical significance of the homoousion (that is, the significance of the Nicene homoousion for reconciliation) becomes clear as it bears upon the saving acts of Jesus in healing, forgiving, and redeeming. All the redemptive activity of Jesus arises from his oneness in being with the Father. The saving acts of Jesus described in the Gospel are imbued with a divine finality and validity, for they are nothing less than the acts of God "for us and our salvation." As Torrance argues, "What God is toward us in his revealing and saving acts in the Gospel he is in himself in his own eternal Being as God." If this is not so, as the Nicene fathers understood, the Gospel is devoid of redemptive content, for what would be the value of a word of forgiveness from Jesus to a sinner if he, in fact, were merely a creature (created ex nihilo) and related to the Father in only an external way? If the words and acts of Jesus are not backed up by the being and reality of God, they amount to nothing more than the words and activity of a moral teacher of note and leave the Gospel empty of any divine reality or validity. In short, if Jesus Christ is detached from God, then his word of forgiveness lacks divine authority and becomes merely the empty word of one creature to another (Torrance, 1988a:141, 142; 1992:57, 58; 1994:53, 54; 1996a:21).

Pastoral Implications

The Nicene homoousion asserts an identity between the saving acts of Jesus and the reality of God; thus, God is not different in himself from what he is in the activity of his saving and redeeming love as expressed in Jesus Christ (Torrance, 1996a:5). As Torrance (1996a:18) rightly argues:

[T]o know God in Jesus Christ, and to know him as the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, is really to know God as he is in himself in his eternal Being as God and in the transcendent Love that God is. He is in himself not other than what he is toward us in his loving, revealing and saving presence in Christ.

In regard to the transcendent love of God revealed in Jesus Christ, Torrance (1996a:5) expresses his pastor's heart:

It is in the Cross of Christ that the utterly astonishing nature of the love that God is has been fully disclosed, for in refusing to spare his own Son whom he delivered up for us all, God has revealed that he loves us more than he loves himself [cf. Rom 8:31ff].

As Torrance frequently notes, there is no dark, inscrutable deity behind the cross of Christ, for whoever has seen Christ has seen the Father. There is no other God than the God who has shown himself in the face of Jesus Christ, the very same God who has loved us to the uttermost in the incarnate Son and the gift of the Spirit (Torrance, 1986:303, 304; 1988a:8; 1990:176).

There are important pastoral considerations in connection to the evangelical significance of the homoousion. Torrance describes his experience as a chaplain on the battlefield when he held in his arms a young, dying soldier who asked, "Is God really like Jesus?" Such troubling questions, usually arising in moments of crisis and distress, reflect the insidious damage done to the faith of believers by the "dualist habits of thought" that drive a wedge between the transcendent Father and the incarnate Son (Torrance, 1992:59, 60; cf. 1994:55, 56). Torrance traces the "theological schizophrenia" arising from the perceived split (i.e., "dualism") between the loving Son and the "unknown" Father to the medieval habit of developing first a doctrine of the one God (De Deo Uno) derived by reason (natural theology) followed by a comparatively unimportant doctrine of the Triune God (De Deo Trino) based on faith (revealed theology) (Torrance, 1985:166, 167; 1994:56; cf. 1980:147, 148; 1996a:9, 10).

Comment: For more on the insidious dualism in the Western doctrine of God, see my posts, "Tommy A. and the Western Split" (March, 2009), and "How to Make a Western OmeletGod" (April, 2009).

The dualist split between faith and reason resulting from the bifurcation in the western doctrine of God has serious pastoral implications. This is particularly true in regard to the love of God. As Torrance (1992:59) asks, "Where would we be if the bond between the love of Jesus and the love of God were cut, which would be the case if there were no oneness of being between them, for God is love?" If Jesus Christ is not God become man, then God has not loved us to the uttermost; rather, his love has stopped short of becoming one of us in the incarnation for us and our salvation. As Torrance (1992:59, 60) observes:

Fearful anxiety arises in the human heart when people cannot connect Jesus . . . with the ultimate Being of God, for then the ultimate Being of God can be to them only a dark, inscrutable, arbitrary Deity whom they inevitably think of with terror for their guilty conscience makes them paint harsh angry streaks upon his face.

Any disjunction between the being of Jesus and the being of God disrupts the message of grace contained in the Gospel and introduces anxiety into the hearts of many Christians, who fear there may be a dark, inscrutable, arbitrary deity hidden behind the back of Jesus, "before whom in our guilty conscience as sinners we cannot but quake and shiver in our souls" (Torrance, et al, 1999:16). On the other hand, great comfort and assurance arise "when the face of Jesus is identical with the face of God . . . when the perfect love of God embodied in him casts out all fear" (Torrance, 1992:60). In the preaching and ministry of the Gospel, therefore, the most important consideration is to bring believers face-to-face with God in Jesus Christ, for it is the incarnate Son alone, who is one in being and agency with the Father, who defines God for us and does so in a way that calls into question all alien presuppositions about God arising from the "insidious effect of dualism" on both our theology and our pastoral care (Torrance, 1994:56).

Torrance (1988a:8, 142, 143) also notes the evangelical significance of the homoousion in terms of judgment. He asks, "And what about the ultimate destiny of mankind, the day when the Lord Jesus Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead?" If Jesus Christ were merely a created intermediary between God and man, he could not "go bail for our future," leaving us to face at the end an unknown deity who bears no relationship to our Saviour, for the final judgement would be a judgment "apart from and without respect to Jesus Christ and his forgiving love and atoning sacrifice." As Torrance argues:

Quite clearly the homoousion makes an immense difference to our understanding of the divine judgment, for it asserts that there is no interval or gap of any kind between Jesus Christ and God the judge of all the earth. The judgment of Jesus and the judgment of God are one and the same. Even in the final judgment God the Father and the incarnate Son are perfectly one in being and agency.

The believer may find assurance in Torrance's connection between Jesus, the compassionate Saviour, and Jesus the Judge into whose hands all judgment has been given (Jn 5:22), for the hands of Jesus and the hands of God are the same (Torrance (1999:17). There is great comfort in knowing that our final destiny lies in the hands of the one who cried from the cross on behalf of his tormentors, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Lk 23:34), for, in Torrance's trenchant, compelling words, "the voice of divine forgiveness and the voice of divine judgment are one and the same" (Torrance, et al, 1999:15).

Comment: For more on this subject, see my article, "The Judge Judged in Our Place," in the right-hand column of this page under "Articles."

In summary, Torrance (1990:191, 192) succinctly captures both the epistemological and the evangelical significance of the homoousion as follows:

Any disjunction between God and his self-revelation through Christ and in the Spirit could only mean that in the last analysis revelation is empty of divine reality, and any disjunction between God and his saving activity through Christ and in the Spirit could only mean that in the last analysis salvation is without divine validity.

To be sure, the Gospel account of the mediation of revelation and reconciliation would not be true if there is no oneness in being between Jesus and God. Yet, the epistemological significance of the homoousion is that, in Jesus Christ, God has revealed himself as he is, while the evangelical significance of the homoousion is the assuring good news that the loving, saving acts of Jesus are, in fact, the acts of very God for us and our salvation. There is great comfort and peace in realising that the pulsing, compassionate heart of Jesus is a window into the innermost heart of God, for the heart of the Father is not different from the heart of the incarnate Son. We may rest in the assurance that "God does not and will not act toward any one in life or death in any other way than he has done, does do, and will do in Jesus" (Torrance, et al, 1999:16), for, in loving us in the gift of his dear Son, who is "of one being with the Father," God loves us with the very Love which he is (Torrance (1996a:5).

*****

Hallelujah! See you again around August 1!

References

Torrance, T.F. 1980. The Ground and Grammar of Theology: Consonance Between Theology and Science. (Preface to new edition by T.F. Torrance, 2001). Edinburgh: T & T Clark. 256pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1985. Reality and Scientific Theology. (New Forward by T.F. Torrance, 2001). Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 220pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1986a. The Legacy of Karl Barth. Scottish Journal of Theology, vol 39, pp. 289-308.

Torrance, T.F. 1988a. The Trinitarian Faith: The Evangelical Theology of the Ancient Catholic Church. London: T & T Clark. 345pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1990. Karl Barth: Biblical and Evangelical Theologian. Edinburgh: T & T Clark. 256pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1992. The Mediation of Christ. (rev. ed.) Helmers & Howard Publishers. 144 pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1994. Preaching Christ Today: The Gospel and Scientific Thinking. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. 71pp.

Torrance, T.F. 1996a. The Christian Doctrine of God, One Being Three Persons. London: T & T Clark. 260pp.

Torrance, T.F. et al. 1999. A Passion for Christ: The Vision That IgniteMinistry (edited by G. Dawson & J. Stein). Edinburgh: Handel Press. 150pp.