God has no human emotions. He does have affections, however. We too have affections. Yet we both share affections through an analogy—God has affections in ways befitting a divine being, while we have affections in ways befitting humans. We know the second quite well, but cannot understand the first.
Since the first century, Christians have confessed that God is impassible—not subject to passions like we are. Yet, in the minds of many today, impassibility means that God has no emotions. And if God has no emotions, how can he be said to love or to have mercy? How can he suffer with us in our suffering? How can he understand emotional creatures like us?
These questions follow from a partially incorrect assumption about impassibility. At its heart, impassibility means God has no human body; he is Spirit (John 4:24). As a consequence, God has no bodily impulses, bodily affections, or bodily emotions. Impassibility is another way of saying, “God is not a human being but a supreme spiritual Being.” And the doctrine—rather than nullifying God’s love—ensures that God can lavish upon us stable, eternal, and unselfish love.
To deepen our understanding of impassibility and so God’s never-changing love for us, we need to consider how early Christians spoke about the doctrine, how Scripture does, how the human body works, and how Scripture speaks about God and Christ.
Early Christians
Ignatius (c. 35–108 AD) became the pastor of Paul’s sending church probably about 30 years after the apostle died. They could have known each other, although Ignatius would have been a young man during Paul’s ministry. No matter the exact history, we can discern that Paul heavily influenced Ignatius as is evident in his writings.
The Evangelist John also seems to have influenced Ignatius—both of whom ministered during the same period. John died in the 90s while Ignatius died by martyrdom sometimes in the early 100s. And Ignatius draws on the language and ideas that are found in John’s writings. So when we read Ignatius, we read someone who lived among some apostles and disciples of Jesus—being heavily influenced by both Paul and John.
His statements about impassibility, then, give some idea of how ancient and accepted the doctrine was amongst the earliest Christians. In his letter to the Ephesians, for example, he writes: “There is one Physician who is possessed both of flesh and spirit; both made and not made; God existing in flesh; true life in death; both of Mary and of God; first passible and then impassible — even Jesus Christ our Lord” (IgEph 7).
While describing Christ, Ignatius parses out his divine and human nature. According to his humanity, Christ was “made,” but according to his divinity, Christ was “not made.” The last comparison Ignatius makes is: “first passible and then impassible.” He makes this statement following his comments on Christ’s generation from both Mary and God. Regarding his generation from Mary, Christ is passible; from God, Christ is impassible.
Ignatius here represents the commonplace idea that humans have passible natures, while God has an impassible nature. Even Paul draws on this commonplace. In Acts 14:15, he says, “Friends, why are you doing this? We too are only human, like you.” The phrase “like you” translates the Greek work homoiopatheis. Even without knowing Greek, one can see the wording of “patheis” or pathos. The point being is that Paul and Barnabas affirm their humanity due to their similar passibility.
Granted, Paul uses idiomatic language here. So it is not exactly clear that he means passibility in the more technical sense. Still, the words he uses at least shows a similar idea to what Ignatius clearly affirms without an expectation that anyone would disagree with him. And Paul elsewhere describes God in impassible ways (e.g., 1 Tim 1:17; 6:16). In any case, Ignatius assumes that the Ephesians will know and affirm without explanation that God is impassible.
He makes the same assumption when writing to Polycarp, the bishop of Smryna: “Look for Him who is above all time, eternal and invisible, yet who became visible for our sakes; impalpable and impassible, yet who became passible on our account; and who in every kind of way suffered for our sakes” (IgPoly. 3). Once again, Ignatius contrasts the two natures of Christ. And once again, Christ according to his divinity is impassible but becomes passible through assuming human flesh.
And this latter point is the key to the whole thing. Human nature by definition is passible—divine nature is not. Put another way, human bodies have bodily passions. God has no body according to Jesus (John 4:24). He, therefore, has no human passions. He is impassible precisely because he has no body. “God is Spirit” (John 4:24). So God’s divine spiritual nature means that he has no human passions. Yet he, by becoming human, gains the ability to suffer, to experience passions, and to die (cf. Heb 2:14).
Scriptural Testimony
Scripture bears out this reality through its affirmation that God is neither a mortal nor a human body. In the first case, Hosea 11:9 reads, “for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.” Elsewhere, Scripture says, “God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind” (Num 23:19). “And also,” Samuel records, “the Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret” (1 sam 15:29)
Scripture distinguishes God and man. They differ. Certainly, they differ in their moral quality from one another. But there is a more fundamental difference between the two. God has no body, no corporeal form. He is invisible, incorporeal, or simply Spirit. In Exodus 3, for example, God reveals himself in the fire. He again revealed himself in the fire on Sinai in Exodus 20.
Moses explains the significance of this fiery revelation: “the Lord spoke to you out of the midst of the fire. You heard the sound of words, but saw no form; there was only a voice” (Deut 4:15). God had no form. The fire represented his presence, yet only his voice proceeded from the fire. Fire as a burning, purifying, and translucent substance provides an earthly analogue to the nature of God.
That God has no form seems to underlie the prohibition against making images (Deut 4:16–24). As the lawgiver says, “the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God” (Deut 4:24).
Further, that God has no form distinguishes him not just from us but also from other gods: “there is no other besides him” (Deut 4:35). Other gods look just like us or like animals. They are really representations of creation. But God alone has no form—because he is, as Jesus says, “Spirit (John 4:24) or as Paul says, “invisible” (Rom 1:20) and one “who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Tim 6:16).
If God has no human body, then he cannot suffer exactly like we do. He has no hand to burn on the stove, no cancer to pain his body, and no lack of sleep to exacerbate mental illness. He simply is incapable of bodily ills. Has no body after all. That affirmation grounds the reality that God is impassible—he lacks human passions that the body mediates through hunger, tiredness, hormones, and much more besides.
Anthropology
By now, it may be obvious what it means for God to impassible. It means, at a basic level, that he has no human body. Today, this notion may mean very little to us, but to make this claim 2,000 years ago meant quite a bit. It meant, in the language of Ignatius, that humans were mortal, visible, passible. He knew what it meant and so did his audience.
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