Remembering Paul Helm

I was saddened to receive the news on Monday of the death of my friend and erstwhile collaborator, Paul Helm, at age 85. With his passing, the church has lost one of its most penetrating philosophical minds and a man whose personal kindness touched many of our lives. Paul was professor of the philosophy of religion at King’s College, London, but taught widely elsewhere, most notably at Regent College, Vancouver.

Paul’s major scholarly contributions lay in his application of Anglo-American philosophy to the doctrine of God. He both offered striking articulations of the divine attributes, particularly that of eternity, while also training (and inspiring) a rising generation of Christian thinkers who went on to broaden and deepen such work, generating what is now known as analytic theology, associated most notably with his own doctoral student, Oliver Crisp.

My own first encounter with his work was not in this field at all. It was his short but pungent Calvin and the Calvinists. This book, a response to the “Calvin against the Calvinists” thesis proposed by Basil Hall and made popular by R. T Kendall, demonstrated that attempts to drive a wedge between the allegedly exegetically-oriented theology of Calvin and the (again allegedly) overly-systematized approach of, say, the Westminster divines, was fundamentally flawed.

In retrospect, Paul had fired the opening volley in what was to become an academic debate of great historiographical and theological significance. That Paul did so also indicated two further aspects of his work: He was sensitive to the importance of history to theology, and he cared for the church. This book was published not by a scholarly press but by Banner of Truth, an institution committed to nourishing the modern church with the best Puritan literature from the past. And other Banner books, for example one on calling, were a feature of his repertoire, even as he published major studies of Calvin and Reformed thought with Oxford University Press.

That dual emphasis—profound, technical scholarship and pastoral love for Christ’s people—marked his entire career. It was one reason why the two of us committed time to editing a volume, The Trustworthiness of God, in which we brought together a number of scholars from different disciplines in order to try to move the discussion of the theological significance of the doctrine of Holy Scripture back to center stage for both academy and thoughtful church leaders. For me, half of the attraction of the project was the opportunity to work closely with a senior academic who modeled how to think through tough issues and to handle those who disagree with respect.

My fondest memory of him was the conference and dinner that his King’s College colleague, the late, great Colin Gunton, organized to celebrate his work and to honor him as a scholar and churchman. It was a convivial day spent with others who shared the same interests, while not always the same beliefs, and it gave birth to Paul’s Festschrift, to which I was honored to contribute. And to hear Paul lecture that day was an experience in itself: The typically relaxed and unassuming man became a powerhouse behind the lectern, speaking with passion, precision and purpose—the consummate teacher.

Paul was also that best of friends who was not afraid to tell you what you did not want to hear. He sometimes offered criticism of my own work, criticism that I always took with great seriousness, knowing it was motivated by love and concern that I should think and write clearly. And though a kind man, he did not suffer fools. In one review of a particularly atrocious book, he did wonder out loud if the author’s stunning misrepresentation of the thought of its subject was due less to incompetence and more to willful dishonesty. Harsh but, in context, very fair.

At the time of his death, I had not seen him for some years but was the recipient of frequent kind and encouraging emails, up until the time when his illness made such impossible. Even his absent friends were always, it seems, on his heart and in his prayers.

It is always sad to hear of the passing of a friend, but the news about Paul Helm did make me realize one important thing: It is a blessing to have such a person in one’s life and deep sorrow must be tempered with deeper gratitude. He modeled both the scholarly and the Christian life, never losing sight of either. I pray that those of us whose lives he touched might prove worthy of him. My condolences go out to his wife, Angela, and his family. And, for Paul himself, Shalom, friend, shalom.