The Glory of God Composed of Form and Splendor – part 2

Posted on December 28, 2009

[Eric Johnson is our guest blogger for December. Eric is the Director of the Society for Christian Psychology and professor at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. This is his fourth post].

Last week I began a discussion based on a distinction borrowed from the great 20th century Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, that glory is composed of both form and splendor. I will assume the reader has read that introduction as we explore this week the implications of that momentous distinction.

In art, physical form has to do with spatial arrangement of the features, say, of a statue. A beautiful statue looks good. But we are interested in psychological or spiritual form-something invisible-and therefore not something we can see with the physical eye, but something we arrive at by means of inference and wisdom.

God is the source and measure of glory; indeed, glory is the biblical term for the beauty of God. God’s glory is the “sum of his attributes,” his greatness and goodness, his meaningfulness. God is the essence of perfect, infinite form and splendor. So God’s form is the perfect configuration of psychological and spiritual features: God knows everything (including absolute self-awareness); always thinks clearly; is completely content,  but has emotional richness that corresponds to the rest of reality perfectly (including true empathy); acts determinedly and wisely; and (in the Trinity) consists of strong, loving persons-in-communion.

Last week we defined splendor as the depth dimension of a form, its inner radiance that “shines out” from the form. God is also the essence of perfect, infinite splendor, so he is the deepest of beings: he loves that which is lovely-himself supremely and all creatures, especially insofar as they resemble him-and he hates that which is ugly-sin; he regards all things in proportion to their true value with respect to himself; he always acts according to his preeminent values; and he “sees through” mere appearance and promotes depth in those made in his image.

Being the Son of God in human form, Jesus Christ is the perfect human representation of God’s form and splendor. The Gospels are important because they provide narrative descriptions of his glory, “glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn 1:14). Jesus Christ shows the human race flawless human form and consummate depth of splendor. Being increasingly conformed to Christ (in his form and splendor) is the goal of human life (Ro 8:29; 2Co 3:18).

So it is God’s intention that humans made in his image are created to realize the greatest form and splendor of which they are capable as finite creatures. Having good form means having healthy thinking and emotions, well-functioning memory, the ability to freely act so as to realize one’s realistic goals, and good relationships. Modern psychology has explored many of these features.

Having a high degree of splendor means being deep, rather than superficial, being focused on the important things in life: supernatural reality more than natural, people more than things, being and doing good more than simply looking good; but also having regard for the weak, hurting, broken, and sinners, and all creatures in proportion to their actual value before God, yet hating sin. Obviously modern psychology has not focused much on splendor.

This doxological focus (doxa = glory, Gk) makes human development central to God’s purposes. Children obviously manifest God’s glory, but it is good to develop into increasingly well-formed creatures with greater splendor. Because of their limited formal capacities, children necessarily act with less splendor than adults, because adults can do what they do intentionally for the glory of God; children cannot, at least not as fully as adults.

Glory of course is not the possession of anyone except God. To be human is only to be a means of God’s glory; by grace God permits humans to participate in his glory. The more well-formed our souls and the more splendorous their form, the greater glory we are capable of receiving from God in worship, love, and gratitude and expressing in our voices, lives, and relationships.

This glory framework gives Christians a different way of viewing psychopathology.  Sin is the worst kind of psychopathology because it radically compromises our ability to participate in God’s glory. Sin’s essence is anti-glory.  Part of sin’s effects was the damage of the soul’s form evident in distorted thinking, inappropriate emotions, and personality disorders, so this kind of damage should be of concern to Christian counseling, since it can inhibit our ability to participate in God’s glory. However, sin’s effects are most evident in the compromise of splendor. The more sinful we are, the less devoted to God we are and the more focused we are on this creation as an end in itself (so it becomes an idol), so those who live lives distracted by the superficial (fame, fashion, power, possessions) lack splendor. Low levels of splendor, then, is a greater problem than poor form in Christian counseling. Interestingly, having damaged form leads to increased suffering, but suffering promotes our deepening and so our splendor.

Christ came to earth and died and was raised to heal our form and deepen our splendor. Some healing in our form is possible in this life, but its complete healing is reserved for heaven. However, in light of the foregoing, we might expect more healing on earth in our capacity for splendor, as we grow through suffering in worship, wisdom, faith, hope, and love. Christian psychotherapy and counseling is doxological as it participates in the glory of Christ’s salvation by helping to bring healing to the human form and increase human splendor through the resources of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.

Made in the Image of God: Part 3

Posted on April 14, 2009

[Moderator: This is the final post this month by guest blogger, Ms. Kathrin Halder. Ms. Halder is a member of the Society. She works at IGNIS in Germany.]

We have seen that we are fearfully and wonderfully made by God. And yet we depend, totally, on His continuous speaking of life and love to us—something He chooses to continue even to fallen creation. But now, I’d like to explore the consequences of the fall even though God continues to speak to us.

 

Of course our breaking off with God, our refusal to answer Him did have massive consequences. Thus a paradox becomes apparent. While humanness reflects the original glory of creation, it also, at the same time, reflects the horror of separation of God. As Stanley Grenz puts it:

 

Throughout history thinkers have noted that humans are a strange paradox. We are a mixture of good and evil, of godly beauty and of demonic hideousness, of unlimited potential and of tragic failure. In theological terms, we are God’s good handiwork, but we have fallen into sin. [1]        

 

Therefore we should celebrate God’s beauty in us, but we should at the same time be shocked about the extent of evil being found in us. This ought to lead us to the cross where we can find redemption.

 

Some therefore divide sharply between Christians and Non-Christians, one mainly reflecting fallenness, the other mainly reflecting the restored beauty of creation. Without being able to address everything in this complicated issue, the main discussion in my classes comes to my mind, the question whether a Non-Christian, an unbeliever could or could not love.

 

Some (e.g., Augustine or Luther) see the good deeds of unbelievers as “splendida vitia,” or shining vices, things done to show one’s own goodness, but not out of genuine love. Others (e.g., those within the catholic tradition) see the unbeliever able to love due to the fact that there is remaining substance of the image of God in them.

 

My personal view is that there is love in the life of unbelievers, but not because there remains pure good them but because the relation to God is not totally disconnected (like I said in the last post).

You can take water out of a river (when the wellspring “decides” to allow water to flow into it), it is real good water, but in the end it doesn’t originate there, but in the wellspring. As stated I believe that God still speaks love into the life of fallen man, and they are able to pass on that love.

 

But of course the extent of love also has something to do with our response to God’s love, with the way the river “decides” to open itself more or less to the water out of the wellspring. And of course it will primarily be Christians who will be more receptive here. But I believe and know people who haven’t converted in a clear way yet, but still answer positively to some extent. And, it might be dangerous to say this, but I have met people outside the church that seemed to answer to love more strongly (and I believe they are on their way to find Christ) than some people inside church that on a real level seem to be more reluctant to open their hearts for Christ’s love and calling to pass on that love to a hurting world.

 

Source:

Grenz, Stanley J. (1994): Theology for the Community of God. Nashville: Broadman & Holman


[1]Grenz Stanley, 1994, S. 181

Made in the Image, part 2

Posted on April 8, 2009

[Moderator's note: This is the second post by Kathrin Halder in a series. She continues exploring her thinking regarding the imago dei and its relationship to counseling matters. Ms. Halder is part of the Christian psychology movement in Germany and works for IGNIS, a training center. *We apologize for the lenthy delay between Kathrin's first post and this one. The delay was caused by a technical glitch that prevented new posts from being loaded to the blog.]

Some might read my last post and wonder, “That sounds nice. You must have had an experience that moved your thinking. But aren’t you overly stressing that we are wonderfully made and leaving out our sin, weakness, and dependency?”

 

Yes, I did stress the one side. But since many stress human sinfulness, it seemed to be worthwhile to focus on the other side for one post. But of course we need to try to bring it together.

 

I have noticed that many of those who stress the positive side of our being created in the image of God seem to suggest that the imago dei is (a) substantival, and (b) at least partially untouched by the fall.

 

There are others who speak of the imago dei in relational terms (rather than of substance). The image of God seen through a relational lens focuses on the relationship to God. As the fall destroys the relationship with God, the imago dei is also destroyed.

 

Surprisingly enough, in reflecting on these two ways to view the image of God, I felt that the Spirit of God was leading me in a similarly deep process towards the relational interpretation. Let me explain why. First, we are totally dependent on God. Without him, we are nothing. Second, the substance interpretation of the imago dei may lead us to believe that we function independently from God. Consider instead the teaching of a “Creatio Continua”–an ongoing creation relationship between God and humanity. God remains in an ongoing relationship to this world, speaks into this world continuously, and sustains humanity who would otherwise fall to pieces and return to dust.

 

In these last days [God]has spoken to us in His Son, whom He appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the world. And He is the radiance of His glory and the exact representation of His nature, and upholds all things by the word of His power.” (Hebr. 1, 2-3a)

 

“If He should determine to do so, if He should gather to Himself His spirit and His breath, All flesh would perish together, and man would return to dust.” (Job 34, 14-15)

 

I will never forget a specific day where I thought about that while going for a walk. Suddenly God spoke to me in a clear way, making known that I could only take the next step due to His sustaining power. I felt so close to God as we did one step after the other together, feeling His speaking strength and power into my bones very strongly.

 

And then the metaphor of a wellspring and river came to my mind. God is the wellspring. He is the only source of water (i.e., life, strength, love, well-being etc). We are the river. We receive and need to continuously receive water of the wellspring to be able to live, love and be of good health. Without the relation to God, we can’t live or love.

 

“The basic attitude of humility recognizes that no person loves or does any good without the help of God, so that whatever acts of kindness or virtue a person performs, whatever strength or happiness one has, one’s ability to work well and to love well – all these are possible because God gives them to the creatures as God’s good gifts.”

 

But doesn’t that lead us back to a very pessimistic picture of man as a sinful fallen creature, that doesn’t have any water due to his separation from God? Doesn’t that destroy everything we heard about man as the wonderful imago dei? Only if we misunderstand what happens in the fall. In my understanding we broke off with God, but God never broke off from us? If He had, we would have returned to dust. But as He allows His water to flow even to us weak and fallen creatures by speaking life and love into us, he himself sustains His wonderful creation (at least in part).

 

But let’s take a deeper look at the consequences for the wonderful creation next week …

 

Reference: Bondi, Roberta C. (1987): To love as God loves; Conversations with the early church. Philadelphia: Fortress Press

Made in the image of God, part 1

Posted on February 18, 2009

[Moderator's note. The next three blog entries comes from Kathrin Halder, fellow member of the Society. Kathrin lives in Germany and teaches at IGNIS (a Christian psychology educational center)]

In my Christian life I was raised in a Protestant surrounding. We were taught frequently about the sinful, weak, powerless, and dependent nature of humanity. We seemed to live by the core value of being small and humble. In contrast to this value, I was confronted with a Humanist approach in my psychological studies that conflicted with my Christian teaching. I felt that this teaching conflicted with a biblical view of human nature (and still agree with this assessment to a significant degree).

But as I have grown and counselled others, I began to see that always focusing on sin and inadequacy, always focusing on humility promoted depression instead of well-being in many.

 

With further study, I came to the surprising conclusion that there are also Christians that view human nature very differently. They view mankind as God’s good creation, fearfully and wonderfully made. I recognized the need to make adequate provision for the concepts of creation grace and the image of God in my understanding of human nature.

 

This struggle to balance the concepts of grace and human depravity continue to be an issue for many of us—even for those of us who teach these concepts. I admit that despite my own teaching about the need to balance these concepts, I didn’t understand what I was saying in my deep inner being. It took quite some while (and space doesn’t allow for going in detail on the how) for the Spirit of God to reach the deeper areas of my heart and to open my eyes to a core aspect of His view of me:

 

“Yet You have made him [man] a little lower than God, And You crown him with glory and majesty!

You make him to rule over the works of Your hands; You have put all things under his feet” (Psalm 8,5-5 out of New American Standard Bible 1995).

 

In ME, the little Kathrin, is something that is LIKE God. The very being of God is in ME. He has made ME wonderfully, there is glory and majesty in ME. His light is in ME so that I can radiate it. His love is in ME, so that I can really live my calling to pass it on to others. He has given everything under MY feet, He has given ME strength and wisdom to rule over creation and has given ME power to overcome the world.

 

It took a while for the spirit of God to soak me in this understanding. It took a while for my heart to grasp a little bit of that what my head had taught (at least in part). But as I grew in this knowledge, it lead to a deep rejoicing of what God had done in me, had given to me and a kind of thankfulness came out of me, I had never experienced. And I am still on the way …

 

It sounds strong (and there certainly is a need for some words to balance this in the next post), but truly it had a strong impact on me. Let me close with some words of Nelson Mandela, where I don’t know whether I agree on everything (e.g. that it’s our power and light we fear most), but that still touched me in the direction of this post:

 

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others. (Nelson Mandela) 

 

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