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IIIM Magazine Online, Volume 5, Number 1, January 1-January 17, 2003

HURTING PEOPLE’S FEELINGS OR “THE PATHOS GAME”

PROFESSOR JOHN M. FRAME

I
s it wrong to hurt people’s feelings? Most of our mothers thought so. But
where does Scripture address this issue?

I recently had an email exchange with another teacher of theology, and I

suggested at one point that he had been insensitive to the feelings of someone
else; I won’t go into details. He replied to me that he didn’t want to get into that.
He said, “I don’t play the pathos game.”

This particular theologian is well-known for his insistence that the Gospel
is objective, not subjective: that it is a message about what happens outside us,
not what happens inside us. He criticizes the evangelical church for being
focused on inwardness, on feelings. My own approach, in contrast to this, is that
salvation (and therefore the Gospel in the broadest sense) is both objective and
subjective. It proclaims objectively that Christ has atoned for our sin, granting to
us divine pardon, and it also proclaims that by trusting Christ we become new
creatures. Christ grants to us what John Murray called a new “dispositional
complex.” We come to love righteousness and hate wickedness. We come to
delight in God’s law. We pant for God like thirsty deer for the water brooks; we
gain new affections, new emotions. This is my “existential perspective.”

Historical Observations

But this message has not always been accepted in Christian circles;
hence my dialogue about the “pathos game.” Christian theologians, following
Plato and other Greek philosophers, often saw emotions as something
dangerous. Greek philosophy was hardly monolithic, and theologians have often
exaggerated the agreement among the thinkers of this movement. But the one
think all the Greeks agreed on was that the good life is the life of reason. Reason
should dominate human life, including the emotions. When the emotions rule, all
goes askew. When reason rules the emotions (in some views, virtually
extinguishing them), human life gets back on an even keel.

Music is particularly dangerous in this respect, since it rouses the

emotions to such a degree. Plato warned us about it. Ulrich Zwingli, arguably the
founder of the Reformed branch of Protestantism, eliminated music from worship,
turning the weekly service into a teaching meeting. In this, it should be noted, he
differed from Martin Luther, who said that music is the greatest thing next to
theology.
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We can be thankful that the other Reformed leaders, such as Bullinger,

Bucer, and Calvin, did not follow Zwingli in this decision. But they were much
more restrictive than Lutherans were about the type of music deemed
appropriate for worship. Calvin had his congregations sing mostly (not
exclusively) Psalm versions, and that became the rule in the Scottish churches
(though not in the church of Cologne, for example).

The Reformation in general was a movement of scholars. Luther’s view of

justification began as a scholar’s insight, a new view of the meaning of
righteousness in Rom. 1:16-17. The event we celebrate on Oct. 31 was Luther’s
invitation to an academic disputation. The academic emphasis of Reformation,
and, even more, Reformed theology continues to the present. Reformed worship
continues to be centered on preaching, and preaching of a rather academic sort.
To supply churches with pastors able to preach with such academic rigor,
Reformed theology has emphasized the importance of a “learned ministry.”
Pastoral candidates must have college degrees and at least some post-graduate
training. They must know the original languages of Scripture and the fine
distinctions of technical theology. The Reformed Confessions are not basic
summaries of faith like the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds, but closely argued
miniature theological treatises, to which aspiring clergy are expected to subscribe
in some detail, if not exhaustively.

The result is that Reformed churches have appealed mainly to those who
have had some university or college study, and who therefore come from families
economically able to provide such education. Reformed church members tend to
be educated and relatively wealthy.

Among Reformed theologians, among them J. Gresham Machen and

Gordon H. Clark, one often hears the view known as “the primacy of the
intellect.” What this seems to mean is that God’s revelation addresses first of all
the human intellect. The intellect, in turn, applies the truth to the will and to the
emotions. At least this is what God originally intended. One result of the Fall on
this view is that the hierarchy of intellect, will, and emotion was overturned, so
that the intellect is now dominated by the will and the emotions. Salvation, then
returns human nature to its proper balance. The Christian life is, like the ideal life
of the Greek philosophers, a life of reason, though of course it is a reason based
on God’s Word rather than on autonomous philosophy.

I disagree with Machen and Clark on this point, but I do sympathize with
them. In the period following the Scopes’ trial, American evangelicalism went
through a period of rather extreme anti-intellectualism. Many rejected scholarship
in general, particularly science, as contrary to Scripture. Machen and Clark
wanted to affirm that Christianity was rationally defensible, that it had nothing to
fear from learned detractors. They were right to affirm intellect, but not, in my
judgment, at the expense of the will and the emotions.
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I evaluate similarly contemporary Reformed attempts to repress the

passions. When Christian counselors tell people not to live by their feelings, they
give good advice as long as they are talking about momentary feelings, feelings
without meditation. But feelings do play a positive role in the Christian life, as we
shall see.

Other traditions have thought the Reformed emphasis to be one-sided.

Anabaptists, Arminians, and Charismatics of different stripes hold a more positive
view of the emotions and a less positive view of academic attainment. This gives
them a greater appeal to the poor, the uneducated, and the minorities of society.

Scripture on the Emotions

Scripture does warn us against being driven back and forth by waves of
immediate emotion. Paul tells us to be anxious for nothing, but to pray (Phil. 4:6-
7). Psalm 1 tells us to meditate in God’s Word day and night, rather than being
blown around like the chaff.

But Scripture does not warrant “the primacy of the intellect.” For one thing,
Scripture does not even distinguish between intellect, will, and emotions, as
distinct “faculties” of the mind. It talks about our thoughts, our decisions, and our
feelings, but it never presents these as the products of three competing organs.
Therefore, it never exhorts us to bring our decisions and feelings into conformity
with the intellect.

For another thing, Scripture teaches that we are totally depraved, and that
includes our intellectual, as well as our volitional and emotional aspects. Yes, our
feelings sometimes lead us into sin, but the same is true of our intellects. If we
seek to remedy our emotionalism by bringing our emotions into line with
depraved intellectual concepts, there is no net gain.

Similarly, Scripture teaches that God’s grace saves us as whole persons.

Our thinking, acting, and feeling are all changed by regeneration. God’s grace
leads us to seek conformity with God’s Word. The important thing is not to bring
the emotions into line with the intellect, but to bring both emotions and intellect
into line with God’s Word.

I have set forth in Doctrine of the Knowledge of God (Presbyterian and

Reformed) a “perspectival” model of intellect, emotions, and will: that these are
three ways of speaking of the whole person thinking, acting, feeling. I have
argued that each of these presupposes and influences the others, so that the
three are not really separable or even distinguishable. If it is important to bring
our feelings into line with godly thinking, it is also important to bring our thinking
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into line with godly passions: our passion for God, his Word, and his
righteousness.

Scripture on the Pathos Game

So Scripture also tells us that we should care about our own feelings and
those of others. On the broadest level, Christian faith is a grand passion. If our
faith embraces all of life (“Whether you eat, or drink, or whatever you do,” 1 Cor.
10:31), then it embraces the emotions as well. If we are to love the Lord with all
our heart, mind, soul and strength, that covenant commitment will certainly be
our greatest passion, as well as our most basic intellectual commitment and the
dominant motivation for our will.

The Bible appeals to all these aspects of personality. It presents reasoned

arguments to the mind, but it also exhorts the will (“Turn! turn from your evil
ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel?” Ezek. 33:11) And it is full of godly
passion. That’s all through the Psalms. Hear this from Psalm 42:

As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O

God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and
appear before God? My tears have been my food day and night, while
they say to me continually, "Where is your God?" These things I
remember, as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead
them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of
praise, a multitude keeping festival. Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise
him, my salvation and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I
remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.

The Psalmist’s grief at being away from the presence of God is an example to us.
We too should pant, thirst, cry for the presence of the living God. It is not enough
to make intellectual theological observations about the different senses of his
proximity and his absence. Nor is it enough to express voluntary resolution to
seek God’s presence again. Rather, our emotions should desire God’s nearness.
If we don’t desire him with such passion, there is something wrong.

The Psalmist’s anguish anticipates and reflects the agony of Jesus. As

Warfield wrote in “The Emotional Life of Our Lord,” Jesus was and is a man of
passion. He felt deeply about the Jews’ desecration of his Father’s house, about
his rejection by Jerusalem, about the cup of suffering that the Father had set
before him. And he felt compassion on the multitudes (Matt. 15:32, 20:34),
reflecting God’s own “tender mercies” (splanchna, bowels) to his people (Luke
1:78). He expresses a “strong desire” that his disciples will eat the Passover with
him before his death (Luke 22:15). This language is highly emotional.
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The apostle Paul speaks often of the “affection” (splanchnon) he bears to

the churches. In Phil. 1:8, he says, “For God is my witness, how I yearn for you
all with the affection of Christ Jesus.” Like God himself, the apostle has “bowels”
of compassion and affection for his brothers and sisters. He calls them to have
the same compassion toward one another (2:1, also splanchna). Compare Col.
3:12, Phm. 1:7, 12, 20.

Hear him again:

For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many
tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you. (2
Cor. 2:4)

1 Thessalonians 2:7, 8 but we were gentle among you, like a mother

caring for her little children. We loved you so much that we were delighted
to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because
you had become so dear to us.

1 Thessalonians 2:17 But, brothers, when we were torn away from you for
a short time (in person, not in thought), out of our intense longing we
made every effort to see you.

1 Thess. 3:6-10 But Timothy has just now come to us from you and has
brought good news about your faith and love. He has told us that you
always have pleasant memories of us and that you long to see us, just as
we also long to see you… How can we thank God enough for you in return
for all the joy we have in the presence of the Lord because of you?

Philemon 12 I am sending him (Onesimus)--- who is my very heart—back

to you. I would have liked to keep him with me so that he could take your
place in helping me while I am in chains for the gospel. But I did not want
to do anything without your consent, so that any favor you do will be
spontaneous and not forced.

Again and again, Paul pours out his heart, expresses his own emotions and
expresses his deep care for the emotions of the people. Surely this is a model for
us. Paul is playing “the pathos game”, if we are even permitted to so trivialize
what is happening here. He feels deeply for his people and wants them to feel
deeply for one another.

Paul is grateful for those who “refreshed his spirit” (1 Cor. 16:18). He
rejoices when a church longs to see him as he longs to see them (2 Cor. 7:7, 11).
He rebukes the Corinthians at another point for being “restricted in their
affections” (2 Cor. 6:12), and he counsels them to open their hearts wide (verse
13).
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The apostle John also urges emotions of compassion:

But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet
closes his heart (splanchna) against him, how does God's love abide in
him? (1 John 3:17)

He addresses the will: meet your brother’s needs. But the lack of will is rooted in
a lack of compassion, a lack of feeling.

Emotions also enter into the theology of the Bible in important ways.
Consider Paul’s hymn of praise to God’s incomprehensibility:

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable are his judgments,
And his paths beyond tracing out!
Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?
Who has ever given to God that God should repay him?
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be glory forever! Amen.

Can you feel the emotion pulsing through that passage? That passage is not
meant only to inform you, but to make you feel differently. The emotional content
is part of the meaning of the text. If a preacher doesn’t communicate that feeling,
that emotion, he’s depriving his congregation of an important element of the text.
Imagine somebody reading this text in a monotone. That is a distortion of the text
as much as a theological error would be.

Again and again, Paul pours out his heart, expresses his own emotions
and expresses his deep care for the emotions of the people.

So the Reformed community needs to look at emotions much more

positively, as the Bible does. We need to play the pathos game. There is no
reason for us to disparage or try to dampen emotions in the Christian life, or even
in worship. And if we don’t have the resources in the Reformed tradition to
express the extreme emotions found in Scripture itself, then should be humble
enough to go beyond the Reformed tradition to use resources from our non-
Reformed brothers and sisters.

We should counsel people not to act on momentary emotions. We should

also counsel them not to act on every idea that pops into their heads, or on every
volitional desire or impulse appears in their thinking. But ideas that are tempered
and refined and prayed over to the point of cognitive rest (an emotion! See
Doctrine of the Knowledge of God ) ought to be acted on. And emotions refined
by thought, maturity, and good habits of decision-making may well be reliable
guides.
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Hurting People’s Feelings

And it is wrong, as your mother said, to hurt people’s feelings. That is true
in many cases, at least. I grant that often it is impossible to avoid bringing grief to
someone. People are often offended emotionally by the righteous actions of
others. Not all emotions are regenerate. People are often too thin-skinned, too
self-centered to respond with proper emotions to the events of their lives.

Paul knew that he would have to cause some pain to some members of
the Corinthian church (2 Cor. 2:1-5). In context, the “pain” is clearly emotional.
But he is very reluctant to cause such pain, and he speaks of his own emotional
pain in carrying out this duty. The duty was to discipline a member of the church.
But in the passage, the offender has repented, and Paul calls the congregation to
forgive. But not only to forgive, also to “comfort him, or he may be overwhelmed
by excessive sorrow,” verse 7. Paul wants the church to carry out its work so as
to guard the feelings of one another.

The writer to the Hebrews urges his readers to obey their leaders (13:17)
“so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage
to you.” There are, of course, a variety of reasons why we should obey the
leaders of the church. But the reason mentioned here is emotional. We obey our
leaders for the sake of their emotional well-being, so they will be joyful, happy.
And, of course, their emotions are contagious. The writer implies that when they
are unhappy, we will be unhappy too, and similarly when they are happy. A
church with happy leaders is a happy church! To many that sounds like a
trivialization of the work of the church; but that is what the text says.

God wants us to care about how other people feel. He wants us to weep
when others weep, rejoice when they rejoice (Rom. 12:15). He sends us, as he
sent Jesus, to bind up the brokenhearted (Isa. 61:1).