The Dance of Perfect Love

Just before the risen Jesus ascends to the Father, to exercise all authority, directing all things to their appointed end, he instructs the apostles to go and baptize “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Mt 28:19): an invocation of all the fullness of God—power, grace, glory . . . love.  We say God be with you: a blessing.  Jesus names the Trinity without using the term.  There are those who will contend that the Father, Son, Spirit wording was given final shape after the church had been established and does not so much reflect what Jesus ever actually said as it does the rituals of the early church.  I suppose the same people would argue that Jesus speaks of no Trinity.  In a way, they are right: the word Trinity never once occurs in the Bible.  But they are incorrect, too, badly, because Jesus—just as the Bible—often speaks of the Father, of the Son, and of the Spirit.  Jesus speaks of the three in a way that leads us to believe they are distinct.  He also speaks in such a way as to lead us to believe he is speaking of one God.  The Bible teaches there is one true God and one only.  One God, who is three.

Nearly at the start of his telling of the Jesus story, John tells us that the Son “came from the Father” (Jn 1:14); he then informs us that the Son “is himself God” (Jn 1:18).  Well, that’s just John, jumping to extremes.  He can say this because he heard Jesus say that he and the Father were one (Jn 10:30).  Jesus later says, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9).  Jesus is the perfect image, radiance, of the Father, who is God.  And so is the Son.

In many of his letters, Paul speaks of “God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  Now, Paul, more than all, would be the last to call anyone Lord who was not also God: God is Lord.  So, Paul speaks of God as Father and as our Lord Jesus Christ.  One God, whom we encounter in diverse ways.  It is also clear for Paul that people know God, and know the Son, only through the Spirit.  The Spirit of God reveals God.  Jesus reminds us of the truth that “God is spirit” (Jn 4:24) and that it is the Spirit who “gives life” (Jn 6:63).  And all things were created—received existence and life—through the Word, whom John tells us is the Son, who came to us, came for us, as Jesus.

And it is the Word of God, the Son, who speaks of his oneness with the Father, who also assures his faithful that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things” (Jn 14:26).  Teaching us, this same Spirit will guide us “into all the truth” (Jn 16:13).  It’s not just John who puts things this way.  Paul tells us that “God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts” (Gal 4:6).  Sent in the name of the Son who is God as the Father is God, the Spirit is God’s enduring presence with us, among us, in us.  Luke shows, in many examples, that it is the Spirit who fills the faithful and moves them.  Jesus teaches that the Father will “give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Lk 11:13).  If God is spirit, Jesus seems to be teaching (at least in part) that God will give Himself to those who ask.  In giving Himself, He gives life, light, peace, courage, and ability.

The Spirit is not other than God, not less than God or two steps down from God.  The Son is not other than God, not less than God or one step down from God.  Paul writes of “our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:13), and insists that, “in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” (Col 2:9). Not most of, or a lot of, but all the fullness, all the fullness of God.  The Father (who is God) sends us the Son (who is God) and the Spirit (who is God); the Son points to the Father and the Spirit; the Spirit gathers us to the Father and to the Son.  One God, “who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him” (Is 64:4).  Let the teaching of the Trinity serve as a blessed reminder that God is acting on our behalf on every side, at every turn.

The Trinity is what the faithful discern from reading Scripture, from carefully, thoughtfully listening to Jesus.  There is a Father.  There is a Son.  There is a Holy Spirit.  These are not separate gods but one God.  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not like three parts of God—like head, torso, and legs; neither are Father, Son, and Holy Spirit aspects, like morning, noon, and night, or youth, adulthood, and old age.  The best the early church could do—they thought about and discussed the topic at great length, in great detail, for a few centuries—the best the early church could do was to speak of one God in three Persons.  That doesn’t exactly clarify matters for us; it didn’t for them, either.  We may remember how St. Patrick pointed to the shamrock as one way of beginning to visualize the truth of the teaching.  We may have heard one Sunday School lesson or another about eggs—shell, white, and yolk, or water as ice, liquid, and steam.  Although the analogy breaks down in the case of electrons, we might also approach the Trinity in atomic terms: neutron, proton, and electron.  We might also productively conceptualize one God in three Persons as the one who loves, the one who is loved, and the love joining them in reciprocal love.

There’s a very old theological term for what it is like for God to be in Trinity, perichoresis: a moving around, as in an old folk dance, a circle.  Celtic Christianity responded powerfully to this image of complete participation, intimate inter-involvement.  We read all manner of fanciful explanations of the Celtic cross—often associated with Presbyterian churches because of our Scots-Irish background.  Well, here’s another interpretation: the Celtic cross is a way of pointing to God (the circle moving, dancing, singing) at the cross, on the cross, behind the cross—God’s plan, God’s way, God’s love, God’s light.  The circle speaks of closure, completeness, wholeness, all-encompassing, as well as belonging and embrace.  From Him, through Him, to Him are all things (Rom 11:36).  God is sovereign.

The New Testament gives ample evidence to perceive the Trinity.  What of the Old Testament?  Let’s remember, first, that spiritual truths are spiritually discerned.  The Old Testament can speak of God as Father, the spiritual father of Israel.  The Old Testament speaks of Israel, spiritually, as God’s son.  Who is Israel?  God’s Faithful One.  The people of Israel rarely lived up to that high calling, yet Scripture, fully aware of the failure, continues to speak of God’s Faithful One.  The Old Testament speaks of God’s anointed Son, upon whom rests the special favor of God.  The anointed son is set apart, dedicated and commissioned, to fulfill God’s purposes because the Son is God’s Faithful One.  Through the Spirit, Daniel gives us a remarkable vision of God’s Faithful One:

In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of                        heaven.  He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence.  He was given authority, glory and              sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped him.  His dominion is an everlasting                    dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.  (Dan 7:13-14).

This Son of Man, with sovereign power, cannot be other than God, because all peoples worship him.  Only God is worshipped.  To worship one who is not God is idolatry—a central, ongoing problem which God addresses in the events chronicled in Daniel.  The Son, with all authority, comes with the clouds of heaven, at the head of his hosts, to bring the kingdom, eternal.  The only kingdom that never can be destroyed is no kingdom of this world but God’s kingdom, and the only king of God’s kingdom is God.  The Son is sent from the Father: God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.

Spiritual truth is discerned, just as it is taught, by the Spirit.  The Old Testament frequently speaks of the Spirit of God, through whom mortals prophesy; the Spirit of God blesses with wisdom and understanding—the light of insight.  And God, we believe, is Spirit.  The Spirit of God is not other than God, not less than God.  The Spirit of God gives life, the breath of life, as Job recognized (Job 33:4).  The Old Testament reminds us, many times, that the Spirit of God is a very present help, giving reliable, truthful guidance and sure direction.

“In the beginning God [Elohim] created the heavens and the earth.  Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters” (Gen 1:1-2).  So, there is God, the Spirit of God, poised in that infinite, eternal moment.  Genesis mentions God and the Spirit of God in the first two verses, as if a sort of distinction were being made, here.  Not a difference but a distinction.  There’s more to consider: the way to make a masculine plural in Hebrew is to add –im to the end of the noun.  Elohim, the common Hebrew word for God, is plural, not singular.  But the word is never translated as gods, because Elohim, while in a plural form, is not at all referring to more than one God, but to a God who is one in a uniquely, incomprehensibly holy way.  The Hebrew verbs used of Elohim are singular, not plural.

“Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness’” (Gen 1:26).  Royal decrees often come in the first-person plural, the “Royal We,” like that joke involving dour Queen Victoria: “We are not amused.”  But maybe God is talking to the heavenly host: the angels, archangels, cherubim and seraphim, and so forth?  But the angels had no part in bringing about creation, being themselves created spiritual beings.  And God is not a monarch of the Victorian Age.  So, who is this “us” who will be creating?  May I suggest we are hearing the Triune God: the one who speaks, the word spoken, the breath by which the words are spoken.

Some of you may just remember John Huston’s film The Bible: In the Beginning.  If you haven’t watched it, definitely check it out.  There is a moment in the film when three travelers come by the tents of Abraham and Sarah outside Hebron—hot, sunny, and dry, some twenty miles south of Jerusalem, about three thousand feet above sea level, about as high (and almost as dry) as that stretch from Odessa up to Amarillo.  Anyway, in the film, the three travelers who come to Abraham there at Hebron each bear a striking resemblance to Peter O’Toole.  “The Lord appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day.  Abraham looked up and saw three men standing nearby.  When he saw them, he hurried from the entrance of his tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground” (Gen 18:1-2).  The Lord appeared to Abraham.  One Lord.  Abraham looked and saw three men.  He says to the three, “If I have found favor in your eyes, my lord, do not pass your servant by” (Gen 18:3).  He does not say lords.  One Lord.  Three men.  Abraham addresses three as though they were one.  Abraham knows his guest and bows down, low.

Ancient Christian paintings show us that the church has long regarded the three travelers as one guest.  Some think of the three as the Lord and two angels, but Genesis doesn’t say the Lord and two angels appeared to Abraham.  We may also think of two of the three as angels because in chapter nineteen two go on to Sodom and are identified as angels, there.  But they had been identified as men in chapter eighteen.  And Genesis will speak of “the Angel of the Lord” in a way that leads us to believe God Himself is meant (see Chs. 16 and 22).  This is how the three appeared to Abraham, seemed to him, how they behaved.  We know, though, that they are not men, not mortals: Abraham also knows it.  So, Genesis wrestles with the revelation; we do, too.  One as three; three though one.

For Advent, we hang the banners Anna Jackson made years ago, calling to mind words from Isaiah: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end” (Is 9:6-7).  We have a Mighty God, Amen.  He is the Everlasting Father.  He is the Prince of Peace, Amen.  A prince, as the term is typically used, is a son, the son of the king.  The prince—a word which literally means first, foremost, or chief—the head—is also the one with authority; biblically, the term prince can also refer to a spiritual being who is a divine protector of a particular people.  The Prince of Peace is the power for peace for his people.

Well, that’s great and all, but maybe all this talk feels like high theology, and that’s not what gets many of us all excited.  What’s any of this Trinity stuff have to do with us?  How are we supposed to live fuller, better, happier, more successful lives, because there’s this Trinity thing?  Where’s the comfort and encouragement?  How will knowing there is this Trinity help us love one another better, and our neighbors?  I was just speaking of peace—in rather short supply in this world for many reasons and one reason.  Peace, shalom, as the Old Testament demonstrates, comes through a healthy relationship with God—righteousness, in other words: keeping our heart tuned to holiness.  A healthy relationship is grounded in holiness.

As we walk with God we come to know God: relationship grows, health grows, holiness grows, by grace, through faith.  We won’t get anywhere if we don’t actually know God, if we don’t bother to grow as we go.  To know God is to have peace and blessedness.  Blessed means knowing the peace of God; the one who knows the peace of God is blessed.  Peace and blessedness come as fruits of a healthy, holy relationship.  We get hung up on happiness; I guess for obvious reasons.  While hope may make us happy, hope and happiness are not the same.  Hope is what we hold on to in all seasons of life: hope in God, the nature and character of God, the Word of God, the presence and promise of God, our very present help.  This Mighty God we sing is Everlasting Father—above us and over us; He is Prince of Peace—with us, beside us; He is Wonderful Counselor—within us, for us.  The Holy Spirit, we are told, is the Counselor, the Advocate, the Help that comes to us from the Father, through the Son, to teach us all truth and lead us faithfully in it—relationship, holiness, health . . . well-being, well with our souls.  Our God, this Trinity, invites us into His perfect dance of perfect love.  Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer—God means to lead us home, lead us to Him.  Knowing this, receiving this, treasuring this by faith is the God-given way to live a fuller, better life.  The faithful conviction that God is bringing us, through all our rollercoaster highs and lows, into His joyful completeness, I’d say, is great comfort indeed, and always timely encouragement.