 |
Triquetra (a.k.a. "Trinity Knot")
|
If you're a Christian, chances are you've been exposed to a lot of good doctrine regarding the Trinity. And, such essential teaching could have come from any number of reputable, historic creeds like the
Athanasian Creed or, perhaps, the
Westminster Confession of Faith. However, if a serious intellectual consideration of the doctrine of the Trinity is all that currently informs your faith, your faith may still be lacking something critical, something personal and relational. Per the Scriptures, the "true God" is also the "living God" (Jer 10:10), and His personal and relational dynamics are ever and always at work, actively shaping every nanosecond of history (e.g. Matt 16:16; 2 Cor 3:3; Heb 12:22).
Hence, communing, by faith, with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit involves much more than merely comprehending an abstract doctrine that grapples to define Him; it must also involve a participation in and dancing with His living dynamics (1 Jn 1:3). Here Eugene Peterson offers us some invaluable help, so I've quoted him at length:
"The dance is
perichoresis, the Greek word for dance. The term was used
by our Greek theologian ancestors as a metaphor to refer to the Trinity.
Perichoresis, wrote Karl Barth, “asserts that the divine modes of
existence condition and permeate one another mutually with such
perfection, that one is as invariably in the other two as the other two
are in the one.” Imagine a folk dance, a round dance, with three
partners in each set. The music starts up and the partners holding hands
begin moving in a circle. On signal from the caller, they release
hands, change partners, and weave in and out, swinging first one and
then another. The tempo increases, the partners move more swiftly with
and between and among one another, swinging and twirling, embracing and
releasing, holding on and letting go. But there is no confusion, every
movement is cleanly coordinated in precise rhythms (these are practiced
and skillful dancers!), as each person maintains his or her own
identity. To the onlooker, the movements are so swift it is impossible
at times to distinguish one person from another; the steps are so
intricate that it is difficult to anticipate the actual configurations
as they appear:
Perichoresis (
peri = around;
choresis = dance).
The
essence of Trinity, the centerpiece of Christian theology and sometimes
considered the most subtle and abstruse of all doctrines, is captured
here in a picture that anyone can observe in an American neighborhood
barn dance or an Irish
ceilidh.
Trinity is the most comprehensive and
integrative framework that we have for understanding and participating
in the Christian life. Early on in our history, our pastors and teachers
formulated the Trinity to express what is distinctive in the revelation
of God in Christ. This theology provides an immense horizon against
which we can understand and practice the Christian life largely and
comprehensively. Without an adequately imagined theology, spirituality
gets reduced to the cramped world reported by journalists or the flat
world studied by scientists. Trinity reveals the immense world of God
creating, saving, and blessing in the name of Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit with immediate and lived implications for the way we live, for
our spirituality. Trinity is the church’s attempt to understand God’s
revelation of Godself in all its parts and relationships. And a most
useful work it has been. At a most practical level it provides a way of
understanding and responding to the God who enters into all the
day-to-day issues that we face as persons and churches and communities
from the time we get out of bed in the morning until we fall asleep at
night, and reaches out to bring us into participation on God’s terms,
that is, on Trinitarian terms. It prevents us from getting involved in
highly religious but soul-destroying ways of going about living the
Christian life.
Trinity understands God as three-personed: Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit, God in community, each “person” in active
communion with the others. We are given an understanding of God that
is most emphatically personal and interpersonal. God is nothing if not
personal. If God is revealed as personal, the only way that God can be
known is in personal response. We need to know this. It is the easiest
thing in the world to use words as a kind of abstract truth or
principle, to deal with the gospel as information. Trinity prevents us
from doing this. We can never get away with de-personalizing the gospel
or the truth to make it easier, simpler, more convenient. Knowing God
through impersonal abstractions is ruled out, knowing God through
programmatic projects is abandoned, knowing God in solitary isolation is
forbidden. Trinity insists that God is not an idea or a force or a
private experience but personal and known only in personal response and
engagement.
Trinity also prevents us from reducing God to what we can
understand or need at any one time. There is a lot going on in us and
this world, far exceeding what we are capable of taking in. In dealing
with God, we are dealing in mystery, in what we do not know, what we
cannot control or deal with on our terms. We need to know this, for we
live in a world that over-respects the practical. We want God to be
“relevant” to our lifestyle. We want what we can, as we say, “get a
handle on.” There is immense peer pressure to reduce God to fit
immediate needs and expectations. But God is never a commodity to use.
In a functionalized world in which we are all trained to understand
ourselves in terms of what we can do, we are faced with a reality that
we cannot control. And so we cultivate reverence. We are in the presence
of One who is both before and beyond us. We listen and wait.
Presumption —God-on-demand on our terms —is exposed as simply silly.
Defining God down to the level of our emotions, and thinking and then
demanding that God work by the terms of our agenda, is set aside in
favor of a life of worship and prayer, obedience and love —a way of life
open and responsive to what
God is doing rather than one in which we
plot strategies to get God involved in what
we are doing. Trinity keeps
pulling us into a far larger world than we can imagine on our own.
And
Trinity is a steady call and invitation to participate in the
energetically active life of God —the image of the dance again. It is
the participation in the Trinity (God as he has revealed himself to us)
that makes things and people particularly and distinctively who they
are. We are not spectators to God; there is always a hand reaching out
to pull us into the Trinitarian actions of holy creation, holy
salvation, and holy community. God is never a nonparticipant in what he
does, nor are any of us. There are no nonparticipants in a
Trinity-revealed life. We need to know this. It is a lot easier to
guide, motivate, plan, and direct from a distance, whether in our homes
or in our work. So we keep a little distance, find ways to delegate so
we don’t have to get too involved. But the reality of the Trinity does
not permit it. If we are going to know God we have to participate in the
relationship that is God. We discover ourselves as unique participants
—each of us one-of-a-kind —in the life of God. The Christian life is not
preprogrammed; it is a release into freedom. Trinity keeps us alert and
responsive to the freedom that derives from participation in the life
of God. And every act of participation is unique.
Every expression of spirituality, left to itself, tends toward being more about me and less about God. Spiritual theology counters by giving witness to the living God, using the largest and most comprehensive and involving terms possible. Trinity provides these terms, a theological language that enables us to maintain our Christian identity in God’s image rather than in what we see in our mirrors each morning."
(Peterson, Eugene H.
Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans. 2005. 44-47.)