Review of Faithful Feelings

Review of
Faithful Feelings: Rethinking Emotion in the New Testament

Book Details:

*Title: Faithful Feelings: Rethinking Emotion in the New Testament
*Author: Matthew A. Elliott, Ph.D.
*Publisher: Kregel Academic and Professional (2006)
*Category: Theology, Emotions, New Testament, Psychology

Reviewed By:

Bob Kellemen, Ph.D., LCPC, is the author of Soul Physicians, Spiritual Friends, Beyond the Suffering, Sacred Friendships, and God’s Healing for Life’s Losses. Bob is the Founder and CEO of RPM Ministries (www.rpmministries.org) and the Director of the Biblical Counseling and Spiritual Formation Network (www.bcsfn.com). He also serves as Professor-at-Large for the MA in Christian Counseling and Discipleship Department at Capital Bible Seminary (www.bible.edu).

Recommended:

Faithful Feelings offers a detailed examination of emotions in the Bible with a needed emphasis on the unity of emotions and cognitions.

Review: Emotions: Windows to the Soul

Created in the image of our passionate and compassionate God who experiences deep joy and profound sadness, we are emotional beings who experience life deeply and internally. God created us to feel. God loves emotions. Jesus wept, and so do we. The Spirit grieves, as we do. The Father rejoices, as do we. We have the emotional capacity to respond to our outer world based upon our inner actions, choices, goals, beliefs, images, longings, and desires.

However, the Christian world sometimes makes emotions “the black sheep of the image bearing family.” Some people view emotions as primarily negative, typically unreliable, and best when ignored or “controlled.” Pastors and counselors at times pit feelings against beliefs by viewing emotions as “irrational passions.”

Because of our often faulty views of emotions, New Testament scholar Matthew Elliott wrote Faithful Feelings to challenge us to rethink emotions biblically. Elliott seeks to determine how emotions were perceived by the writers of the New Testament, and what role they thought emotions should play in the life of the believer. His purpose is to explore the importance of emotions to our faith.

What Is Emotion?

Elliott begins with the basic question, “What is emotion?” The answer is not as simple as one might imagine. In chapter one, Elliott presents a rather technical debate between those who view emotions as non-cognitive and those who view emotions as cognitive. In fact, overall the book is quite technical. The reader who desires a more “user-friendly” presentation might consider Elliott’s more recent book, Feel: The Power of Listening to Your Heart (see http://tinyurl.com/mwekst for Mark Tubbs’ review of Feel).

The theory of non-cognitive emotions states that an emotion is an impression internally experienced but not caused by a cognitive process. Emotions, in this view, are separate from the intellect.

Elliott supports the cognitive theory of emotions and frequently refers to emotions as “cognitive-emotions.” In this view, emotions are inseparably linked to cognition. Simply put, emotion requires cognition.

The difference, for Elliott, is huge. “If emotions are merely physiological impulses, they can be ignored, controlled, or trivialized, while, if they have as their essential element thinking and judgment, they are an essential part of almost everything that we think and do” (p. 31). Therefore, we ought to be able to develop our emotional capacities so that we respond naturally and spontaneously with the emotions which are appropriate to our various situations.

What then, is a cognitive-emotion? Emotions are the felt tendency toward an object judged suitable, or away from an object judged unsuitable (pp. 31-32). The key for Elliott is that we must link emotion to evaluation. His main thesis is clear: the contrast that some habitually draw between reason and emotion is false. “Emotions are not primitive impulses to be controlled or ignored, but cognitive judgments or constructs that tell us about ourselves and our world” (p. 54). Emotions are based upon belief and values.

Elliott states several times how rare the cognitive emotion view is in New Testament studies. However, it is common in biblical/Christian counseling circles for writers to connect rationality and emotionality. Crabb (Understanding People, 1987), Allender and Longman (The Cry of the Soul, 1994), Eyrich (Curing the Heart, 2002), Powlison (Seeing with New Eyes, 2003), Kellemen (Soul Physicians, 2005/2007), Johnson (Foundations for Soul Care), and Roberts (Spiritual Emotions, 2007) are just a few examples. Readers interested in a comprehensive, holistic, and practical approach to the nature of human nature would find such authors good complements to Faithful Feelings.

What View of Emotions Do We Find in Scripture?

Having described emotions as cognitive-emotions, Elliott’s next task is to determine whether the writers of the New Testament separated emotion and reason or whether they saw them as a unified whole. To accomplish this goal he provides background to the New Testament era. He first discusses the Hellenistic view of emotion (chapter two), and then he examines emotion in Jewish culture, including the Old Testament (chapter three).

One of the ways Elliott develops his proposition about emotions and the Bible is to weave together Old Testament and New Testament words for “heart” and “love.” Elliott contends that the Bible has a cognitive view of emotions in part because a.) the Old Testament uses leb (heart) b.) with words like “love,” and c.) leb includes cognition and emotion, and d.) love includes cognition and emotion, and e.) kardia (heart in the New Testament) is a cognate for leb.

For instance, Elliott writes, “If the kardia of a person includes their emotions, it is clear that emotion must have a prominent place in the theology of the New Testament” (p. 131). While leb and kardia often are used holistically to represent a comprehensive view of human nature, and while both words at times are used with emotive words in emotive contexts, neither word is primarily linked to emotions by linguists. Wolff (Anthropology of the Old Testament, 1974) demonstrates that leb has primary reference to rational-volitional elements. There are other Semitic words (such as those translated “kidneys,” “bowels,” “inward parts,” “belly,” and “womb”) that more consistently convey an emotional emphasis.

Words, in order to communicate, have an emphasis with a semantic range. For instance, I might point to my stream where there are trees, shrubs, and weeds and say, “I’m cutting down all those trees this summer.” Technically, “tree” only refers to some of the brush around my stream. However, I can use “tree” with the semantic range of any plant or weed along my stream. But if a squirrel were in one of the trees when I pointed that direction, no one would think I planned to saw in two all animal life along the stream. Nor would it be wise in the context of buying a new tree for my wife, for me to plant a weed and say, “Look at the new tree I bought you for Mother’s Day!”

“Heart” has an emphasis with a semantic range. It can include almost all inner psychical aspects (affections, beliefs, images, motivations, actions, feelings). However, it still has an emphasis (rational-volitional) and its holistic range should not be read into every use of the word in every context.

Reading Faithful Feelings I found myself struggling because I agreed with many of Elliott’s premises about emotions, but I disagreed with how he got there. Yes, leb has a semantic range, but that does not mean that every word used with leb is a cognitive-emotion. Yes, love has emotional elements, but that is not the same as saying that love is an emotion (p. 161) or that love is a cognitive-emotion (p. 163). Not everything is an emotion. However, everything we do involves emotional elements.

Conversely, Elliott’s approach could be considered not holistic enough. If we want to highlight the holistic nature of a word like love, or a word like heart, then we need to call them affective-cognitive-volitive-emotive words. Or, we could say they are relational, spiritual, social, self-aware, rational, volitional, emotional constructs. “Cognitive-emotion” may not capture the comprehensive nature of human nature as depicted in the Old and New Testaments (compare Kellemen, Hebrew Anthropological Terms as a Foundation for a Biblical Counseling Model of Humanity, 1985).

These technicalities aside, Elliott makes many vital points. His interpretation of anger in Cain and Jonah is excellent. “Instead of just prohibiting it, God questions the cognitive basis for the anger” (p. 96).

His work on sorrow, lament, and grief is quite helpful. He shows that it is right and proper to feel sorrow over trouble and death. He demonstrates how the Old Testament encouraged the grieving to express their emotions. His discussion of the process of grieving in the lament Psalms is very instructive.

Elliott also strikes a biblical “balance” in his presentation of God as an emotional being. “To postulate a God without passion is to take the heart out of Jewish worship. . . . We have often been told that God’s emotions were ‘anthropomorphisms,’ described like those of humans. In reality, human emotions are in the image of God himself” (p. 111).

Emotions and Affections

Elliott spends much of chapter 3 (Emotion in the New Testament) discussing love as an emotion. Again, I find myself largely in agreement with the basic movement of his argument. However, once again, I do not “get there” the same way he does. Elliott links emotions and affections. He often quotes Jonathan Edwards and others on affections, as if they meant by affections exactly what Elliott means by cognitive-emotions. Historically, physicians of the soul have seen a relationship between affections and emotions while still distinguishing between affections and emotions.

For example, the Puritans called our thirsts and spiritual longings “religious affections.” By “affections” they did not mean emotions per se. They saw emotions as reactive and responsive and affections as directive and motivational.

As Jonathan Edwards explains, “Affections are the mainspring of human actions. The Author of human nature not only gave affections to man, but he made them the basis of human actions” (Edwards, Religious Affections, p. 9). “The affections are the spring of men’s actions. All activity ceases unless he is moved by some affection—take away desire and the world would be motionless and dead—there would be no such thing as activity or any earnest pursuit whatsoever. Everywhere the Scriptures place much emphasis on the affections” (Edwards, Religious Affections, p. xxviii).

John Owen concurs. “Relational affections motivate the soul to cleave to and to seek relationships. The affections are in the soul as the helm is in the ship; if it be laid hold on by a skillful hand, he turneth the whole vessel which way he pleaseth (Owen, Temptation and Sin, p. ix).

I would agree with much of what Elliott says, but it seems that we need an even more comprehensive understanding of the soul—one that sees a connection between affections and emotions while seeing distinctions. Elliott might say, “I feel because of what I believe.”

More comprehensively we might say, “What I believe (rational/cognitive) about what satisfies my longings for relationship (relational/affective) provides the direction that I choose to pursue (volitional/motivational), and determines my response (emotional) to my inner and outer world. I pursue (volitional) what I perceive (rational) to be lovely (relational) and respond and experience life accordingly (emotional).”

A more comprehensive approach might also note that if the motivational structure of my heart is mature, then I will purposely pursue God and what He chooses to provide (volitional interaction) because I personally perceive (rational direction) that He is good and great, holy and loving, sovereign and satisfying (relational motivation), and I then experience true happiness (emotional reaction). If the motivational structure of my heart is immature, I will purposely pursue Satan (volitional interaction) because I am personally deceived into perceiving (rational direction) that God is not good and great (relational motivation), and I then experience the temporary pleasures of sin for a season and the long-term displeasure of guilt, shame, and sorrow (emotional reaction).

What then are emotions from this more comprehensive perspective? Emotions are our God-given capacity to experience our world and to respond subjectively to those experiences. This capacity includes the ability to react internally and experience a full-range of both positive (pleasant) and negative (painful) inner feelings. What we desire, think, and choose (our inner world) determines our emotional reaction to our external situation (our outer world). What we think (rational direction) satisfies our longing for relationship (relational motivation) provides the direction we choose to pursue (volitional interaction) and determines our experiential response (emotional reaction) to our world. A basic formula for understanding emotions would thus include: E.S. + I.P. = E.R. Our External Situation plus our Internal Perception leads to our Emotional Response.

Perhaps it is semantics. Perhaps Elliott would concur with this more expansive description and say that his term “cognitive-emotion” includes all of these elements.

So what difference might it make? First, we want to convey accurately what the Bible says about the complexities of human nature and about how each of the comprehensive, holistic aspects interrelate to one another.

Second, when people today hear “love is an emotion,” they likely will hear that phrase through our societal grid and they are apt to interpret it to mean, “Do what you feel. Love what you feel like loving.” If we are to un-warp that warped definition, then we need to describe precisely what we mean based specifically upon what the Bible says about human nature.

In Summary

Elliott addresses a legitimate concern when he notes that some people make words like love and hope non-emotional theological terms. They rob these terms of all emotional elements. Elliott returns his readers to a more biblical understanding of these terms as cognitive emotions.

Elliott also addresses a legitimate concern that some people put emotion and intellect in tension. He is driven to bring them together. “Emotions are a faithful reflection of what we believe and value. The Bible does not treat them as forces to be controlled or channeled toward the right things, but as an integral part of who we are as people created in God’s image” (p. 264).

While Faithful Feelings is more theoretical in nature than practical, Elliott adeptly summarizes the foundational application of his view. “. . . because emotions are cognitive, people can be held responsible for having particular emotions.” “. . . it is possible to educate the emotions and there are many methods that can be used to change harmful emotions or produce healthy emotions” (p. 142).

Elliott’s cognitive view of emotions provides a solid foundation for understanding who we are and how we relate. It offers a more hopeful view of emotions than is typically present in some Evangelical Christian circles. It provides an integrated view of our beliefs and emotions that can lead to a greater level of emotional intelligence and spiritual maturity.

Perhaps most importantly, Elliott puts passion back into our souls—the passion God originally designed to be there as we relate to one another and to God. He demonstrates from Scripture that God fashioned us not to relate as soulless drones, but as soulful image bearers. Our walk with God is not one of emotionless duty stripped of all affection, but one of joyful love infused with longing.

Secluded in Our Ivory Towers

Why Some Biblical Counseling Is Only Half Biblical!
Part Ten: Secluded in Our Ivory Towers

*Note: If you’re disappointed that I’m saying that some biblical counseling is only half biblical, then please read my comments at the end of my first post in this series: http://tinyurl.com/n8k799.

My Premise

Some modern biblical counseling considers the seriousness of sin—sinning, but spends much less time equipping people to minister to the gravity of grinding affliction—suffering. When we provide counseling for sin, but fail to provide counseling and counselor training for suffering, then such biblical counseling is only half biblical.

Secluded in Our Ivory Towers

Though acknowledging suffering, it became an underdeveloped element of some biblical counselors. When they did address suffering, it often became “private preaching” with a moralistic, non-relational, directive bent.

Why did this occur? Preaching training, theological perspectives, views of the image of God, and personal sin issues all combined with the historical setting to “set up” early biblical counseling for movement away from the Church’s historic practice and the Bible’s comprehensive focus on sustaining and healing for suffering.

Non-Comprehensive Theological Training

Frank Lake, who we quoted in post one of this series, traces the neglect of suffering to a shift in the focus of ministry training.

“If theological training had not lost its Galilean accent on persons encountered by the roadside or on the roof tops, in favor of libraries and essays in the schools, it would be unnecessary to argue the case for pastoral listening (empathy) and dialogue (conversing with, not private preaching at).”

Secluded in our ivory towers, far from the gravity of grinding affliction, we lose our perspective and our sensitivity. Pastors taught in such settings are trained to preach at people. They then enter a parish with suffering people—people like Job and the man born blind in John 9. Lake describes what stereotypically occurs when pastors trained to talk at sinners are forced to face sufferers.

“The pastoral counselor, in spite of himself, finds himself tittering out his usual jocular reassuring prescriptions, minimizing the problem, and thumping in optimism or the need for further effort. He has the ingrained professional habit of filling every unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of good advice.”

Trained to preach, but not trained to counsel, many pastors, to this day, are ill-equipped to help the suffering. Theirs is an instinctive activism that revolts against a caring presence and words of comfort. They assume that a directive response is best for the pastor’s busy schedule, and that the preaching mode is best for the care and cure of souls. All of this, despite what the Bible and church history teaches.

Non-Comprehensive Theology

Another reason why some biblical counselors are ill-equipped to help the suffering relates to a non-comprehensive theological perspective. The early biblical counseling movement was launched based upon one version of Calvinistic, Reformed theology. However, it was not the comprehensive version practiced by the Reformers like Luther or by Calvin himself. Both Luther and Calvin had a comprehensive, compassionate theology that included a focus on sin and suffering and included a focus on creation, fall, and redemption.

Early pioneers in biblical counseling, reacting against the pendulum of liberalism, the social gospel, and secular psychology, added to it their focus on the fall, sin, and depravity. Such factors were a recipe for biblical counseling that failed to address suffering biblically.

Focusing on the fall, sin, and depravity, and not as much on creation and our original design, and not as much on redemption and dignity in Christ and deprivation and suffering, they defined and described counseling as confronting sin and minimized the scope of true pastoral ministry.

Non-Comprehensive Image of God

Additionally, some biblical counselors tended to focus on the “volitional” element in the Imago Dei. That is, when they considered the image of God in human beings, they focused on the will, actions, and behaviors (and in later years on motivation)—putting off and putting on right actions. As biblical counseling developed, it began to focus more on the mind—putting off and putting on a right thinking—mind renewal.

However, to this day, there is not as much focus on the relational aspects that the Puritan Jonathan Edwards called “the religious affections”—longings, desires, thirsts, etc. And, to this day, some biblical counselors consider emotions to be “the black sheep of the image bearing family.”

Valuing reason and action above affections and emotions, when they did address suffering, they did so with a focus on right actions and right responses in reaction to suffering, while minimizing the emotional and relational aspects of and responses to suffering.

Personal Sin and Sinful Fear

Since the Bible insists on comprehensive and compassionate ministry that both confronts the sinning and comforts the suffering, and we fail to do this, then part of the reason must be internal. That is, even given all the historical, cultural factors, we can’t blame externals for our failure to do what the Bible calls us to do—comfort the suffering.

The personal sin of the fear of man is another reason that some biblical counselors fail to address suffering. Preachers and pastors (and lay people) are terrified, scared to death, to enter hurts deeply. They are much more comfy behind the pulpit generalizing about life, then facing suffering people face-to-face and moving into their hurting lives.

If they do come face-to-face with a suffering soul, it is much easier, much safer, to see counseling as problem-solving and to treat the soul as if it is a car engine to be fixed or a computer virus to be eliminated, then it is to relate soul-to-soul. Teach truth. Exhort right response. Talk. But weep with those who weep? But listen empathetically? But enter deeply? But sustain? But climb in the casket?

We can explore externals, but the reality is, the bottom line is, when pastors, spiritual friends, and biblical counselors fail to engage in biblical sustaining and healing for suffering—it is a sin.

Where Do We Go From Here

So far we’ve seen what we should do: care-front sinning and comfort suffering. So far we’ve seen why we have not done so: historical, cultural, theological, and personal factors that led to a minimizing of sustaining and healing for suffering.

Next we’ll explore how the minimizing of suffering negatively impacts Body life—the natural, ongoing, daily one-another ministry of God’s people in the church.

Who's Alive to the Holy Spirit?

Who's Alive to the Holy Spirit?

*Review of: Daniel B. Wallace, and M. James Sawyer, editors, "Who's Afraid of the Holy Spirit?"

In 1993, Chuck Swindoll authored “Flying Closer to the Flame: A Passion for the Holy Spirit.” What that book was for the general non-charismatic Protestant lay person, “Who’s Afraid of the Holy Spirit?” is for the scholarly non-charismatic Protestant pastor, professor, and student.

The co-editors, Wallace and Sawyer, along with the nine other contributing authors, all write from the cessationist theological camp. Cessationists believe that the Bible teaches that the sign gift ministry of the Holy Spirit ceased at the close of the New Testament canon. These sign gifts (such as the gift of healing, miracle working, speaking in tongues, prophecy, etc.) were given to authenticate the apostolic ministry and message of inspired Scripture and not meant to be ongoing aspects of the Spirit’s ministry in the believer throughout church history.

The purpose of “Who’s Afraid of the Holy Spirit?” is not to provide theological support for that view. Instead, that view is assumed. Rather, the purpose is to stretch their fellow cessationists to consider the ongoing, active, powerful, personal presence and ministry of the Spirit today in the experiential life of the non-charismatic Christian.

Wallace and Sawyer launch their edited work with candid narratives of their personal experience in the cessationist camp. When life crisis struck, their personal, academic approach to the Spirit was found wanting. At the same time, their theological convictions did not allow for a charismatic experience of the Spirit. Out of that tension, this book was born. How does a non-charismatic cessationist experience the power and presence of the Holy Spirit?

The eleven assembled cessationist scholars address that question theologically, historically, and personally. As with any collaborative book, the linkage between various chapters can be choppy and the value of diverse chapters varies. However, over all, readers are exposed to a wide assortment of important theological examinations.

Before a summary overview, readers should understand, as noted in the opening paragraph of this review, that this book is not for those disinclined toward scholarly detail. Swindoll’s book, though fifteen years old, is still the place to go for the lay non-charismatic wanting a practical theology of the Holy Spirit.

One of the central issues addressed is summarized by several of the authors in the disturbing picture of the cessationist “Trinity”: Father, Son, and Holy Scripture.” Yes, you read that right—Holy Scripture. Wallace and his co-writers sense that for many non-charismatics the Holy Scriptures have replaced the Holy Spirit. The authors ask readers to consider what the role of the Spirit is in their lives now that the canon is completed.

Wallace’s chapter on the witness of the Spirit in Romans 8:16 is core to that discussion. In a nutshell, Wallace presents a joint ministry of Spirit and Scripture. Believers have confidence that they are Christians based upon the objective testimony of Scripture and the subjective witness of the Spirit. This dual, mingled role of Spirit and Scripture is emphasized throughout “Who’s Afraid of the Holy Spirit?”

Richard Averbeck, in his chapter on “God, People, and the Bible,” does a fine job exploring the relationship between illumination and biblical scholarship. He also does an excellent job convicting the typical evangelical scholar of his/her failure to be dependent upon and open to the Spirit in the scholarly process.

“The Spirit in the Black Church” by Willie Peterson is one of those “worth the price of the book” chapters. For anyone wanting a handle on how black cessationist evangelicals handle the “tension” between the experience of the Spirit and the cessation of the sign gifts, this is the chapter to read. Peterson’s blending of history, theology, culture, and current ministry is example-setting.

David Eckman’s chapter on “The Holy Spirit and Emotions” should be required reading for all seminary professors, students, pastors, and Christian counselors. It provides the seeds for a much needed evangelical theology of emotions. Emotional intelligence has been a buzz word in secular writing for nearly two decades. Yet the Christian community still has not offered a practical biblical theology of emotionality. Eckman has laid the foundation.

Co-editor James Sawyer’s concluding chapter “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Scriptures?” powerfully encapsulates the message of the book. Sawyer journeys with readers on an important historical trek which opens eyes to why cessationists have become so afraid of the Holy Spirit. His fascinating and ironic premise is that the same evangelicals who decry how the Enlightenment influenced liberal Christianity, were themselves influenced by Enlightenment rationalism. Ouch. You have to read it to appreciate it.

Overall, “Who’s Afraid of the Holy Spirit?” is a timely book that has already stirred up much needed conversation. Admittedly, a few chapters were uneven at times—seeming not to fit the overall flow of the book—as if they had been written for other venues (which is most likely true) and woven into the fabric of this book. Yet, that is minor in the overall scope of this important contribution to the field.

Perhaps the true “criticism” I have about this book is its failure to provide a “spiritual theology of the Holy Spirit.” Before I explain that, I should say that in fairness to the authors, that was not the full intention of this book. So, my encouragement would be that they rejoin to write “volume two.”

As I think about the theological process, I see at least four “types” of theologies: academic, historical, practical/pastoral, and spiritual. Academic theology (including systematic, biblical, exegetical, and lexical) explores the “What?” questions. As the label suggests, it is academic in nature. This book does a splendid job exploring the academic theology of the Holy Spirit from a cessationist perspective.

Historical theology explores the development of doctrine over time. It asks the “What then?” questions. This book also does an excellent job uncovering and presenting the doctrine of the Holy Spirit in the evangelical tradition.

Spiritual theology asks the “So what?” questions. What are the implications for our lives of the academic truths discovered in the text? “Who’s Afraid of the Holy Spirit?” did a commendable job challenging readers to consider such implications. It presented many categories for the cessationist Christian to think through.

Practical/pastoral theology asks the “What now?” questions. How do we personally apply and how do we disciple, mentor, and guide others in the application of the text? Here is where I felt a level of disappointment with the book. As a pastor/counselor/professor/soul physician, I wanted more practical direction. We learned what not to do. We even learned what areas to think through. But we readers were not given many pictures of what this actually looks like in daily existence. We were not given many models of discipleship ministry. What exactly does it look like to equip and empower cessationist Christians to be filled with the Spirit, to be led by the Spirit, to express the fruit of the Spirit. While some of these topics were broached, the focus often failed to address fully the practical “what now?” questions. Again, no one book can “do it all.” But a book emphasizing how cessationists can and should experience the empowering presence of the Spirit could “go there.” I hope the next volume does so to a greater extent. That said, I still highly recommend this book. It deserves all five of its stars.