Wednesday, July 3, 2019

The Trinitarian Vision



In the beginning is the relationship, and reality is relational all the way through and all the way down.  It’s all about relationship.  This is an existential truth, deeply rooted in our experience.  That is what the Christian symbol of God as Trinity tries to convey.  

Unfortunately, the traditional language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and the idea of these being three “persons,” tends toward a kind of tri-theism.  This language is, of course, rooted in the biblical texts, but there it is invoked in a narrative context in which the meaning of the terms is clearly derived from the character of God’s relationship with the world.  In literature, individuals are not presented in the abstract and then proceed to have relationships.  Rather, it is through engaging in relationships that the character of a person is revealed.[1]  Experience gives rise to the symbol, and what is being expressed in the symbol of God as Trinity is an experience of relationship.  

As this narrative language was taken up into philosophical speculation, the symbols, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, were easily misunderstood as three substantial beings who have a relationship with each other.  But that is not what the early theologians of the church were trying to convey.  Following the biblical tradition, they experienced God’s power in relationship to the Source of the created world, to Jesus as the incarnation of that Source, and to the Spirit of love pervading the relationship that is invisible but still concretely present.

This experience of relationship is so powerful that they imagined God as relationship without remainder; not as three persons who have relationships, but rather three subsistent relations distinct but constitutive of one divine reality.  God simply is the relations that God has.[2]  The substantive nouns drawn from biblical narrative used to describe these subsistent relations obscures their dynamic and interdependent character.   What the Symbol of the Trinity expresses is the character of reality as emergent (deriving from a Source rather than self-generating), as evolving (the becoming of all that is), and as internally related (revealing an implicate order in its dynamism). 

Raimon Panikkar argues that the Christian doctrine of the Trinity is a homeomorphic equivalent to the nondual advaita tradition in India:  emphasizing the constitutive relational nature of reality that cannot be characterized as either unity or duality.  This is difficult to grasp, because we have internalized so deeply the ideology of liberal individualism.  We really do think we are absolutely independent, self-constituted monads bumping against each other like so many billiard balls; merely externally related, if at all. 

But that is not the case.  It is my relationship to you that makes you, “you,” and me, “me.”  We are internally related to each other and co-constitutive of our identities.  I am “me” in relationship to “you,” and you are “you” in relationship to “me.”  This explains why the death of a loved one is so wrenching; or a divorce, or even a child growing up and going off to college.  Notice, too, that this means that I am “me” only in so far as I am for “you;” and you are “you” only in so far as you are for “me;” we are the energy of love that unites us.  In this way, we participate in the very life of God, the subsistent relations within the Godhead that constitute the generative, self-giving, dynamic of love. 

We are constituted by, and constitutive of, a universe that is an irreversible, emergent process.  The universe is an evolving constellation of relationships moving toward greater complexity and consciousness, marked by centricity or self-organization at every level from the physical to the biological to reflexive-consciousness.    Each self-organizing part is constitutive of a larger whole, from the atom to the molecule to the cell to the organism to the ecosystem to the planet to the cosmos.   Each is related to all.

There is a convergence underway in the new sciences of quantum physics, systems biology, and ecology moving us away from the modern age’s mechanistic view of nature to a renewed holism that
has reversed the relationship between the parts and the whole.  The properties of the parts are not intrinsic properties but can be understood only within the context of the larger whole.  What we call a part is merely a pattern in an inseparable web of relationships.  Therefore, the shift from parts to the whole can be seen as a shift from objects to relationships.  A system is an integrated whole whose essential properties arise from the relationships among its parts.  Nature is an interlocking network of systems . . . Nature is more flow than fixed.[3] 

In the beginning is the relationship, and reality is relational all the way through and all the way down.  It’s all about relationship.  It isn’t that you and I form relationships.  It is that relationships form us.  And God is the relation of all relations, the depth dimension of reality uniting humanity and the cosmos in an emergent, evolving, dynamic system of systems ordered and energized by love.

Ilia Delio writes that
Evolution unveils a depth of integrated wholeness that is open to more unity, centricity, and consciousness.  Love is not sheer emotion or simply a dopaminergic surge in the limbic system; it is much more deeply embedded in the fabric of the universe.  Love is the integrated energy field, the center of all centers, the whole of every whole, that makes each whole desire more wholeness.  While love-energy may not explicitly show itself on the level of the pre-living and non-reflective, it is present inchoately as the unifying principle of wholeness as entities evolve toward greater complexity.  “But even among the molecules,” Teilhard [de Chardin] wrote, “Love was the building power that worked against entropy and under its attraction the elements groped their way towards union.”  Love-energy marks the history of the universe.[4]

The new science is aligning with a new religious consciousness in the reimaging of the primordial and perennial trinitarian tradition of reality as Spirit-Matter-Consciousness.  In this vision,
“Everything that exists, any real being, presents this triune constitution expressed in three dimensions . . . The cosmotheandric intuition is not a tripartite division among beings, but an insight into the threefold core of all that is insofar as it is.”[5]

The Christian symbol of the Trinity is a particular expression of the universal experience of reality as trinitarian, expressed differently in the symbols of other cultures.   It is a vision of reality whose source, end, and energy is love.  It is a vision we desperately need to reclaim. 

As that part of the universe which has become self-conscious, we humans have become responsible for a “cultural selection” that operates in addition to natural selection to decisively affect the evolution of love on earth.  We can choose to align ourselves with the truth of the Trinitarian vision through the cultivation of Christ-consciousness in ourselves: the realization of our deep interconnection with, and responsibility for, life in the cosmos.

Constance Fitzgerald argues that
Our ability to embody our communion with every human person on the earth and our unassailable connectedness with everything living is limited because . . . we continue to privilege our personal autonomy and are unable to make the transition from radical individualism to a genuine synergistic community even though we know intellectually we are inseparably and physically connected to every living being in the universe.  Yet the future of the entire earth community is riding on whether we can find a way beyond the limits of our present evolutionary trajectory.[6]

What is required is a deep surrender of the ego in trust that God’s power, the power of love, is working through us.  We are invited to participate in the next great evolutionary leap, at the spirit level, the level of consciousness, in which we grow into the fullness of Christ.  Fitzgerald goes on to say that
The evolution of spirit or consciousness . . . happens not just or mainly through physical propagation but through a spiritual one in which people “bear fruit by virtue of the atmosphere which radiates from them on their environment and . . . also by means of the works which they produce in common and through which they propagate their spirit.  This idea of spiritual generativity may sound far-fetched or ungrounded, until we consider what scientists are discovering and speculating about the true nature of our world.  For example, as long ago as 1982 it was reported that “under certain circumstances sub-atomic particles such as electrons are able to instantaneously communicate with each other regardless of the distance separating them, whether an inch, 100 feet, or 10 billion miles apart.”  Scientist David Bohm’s explanation:  there is a deeper and more complex level of reality than we experience, an “implicate order or unbroken wholeness” from which all our perceived reality derives.  If such a fabric of interconnectedness exists in nature, it is no stretch of the imagination to apply it to consciousness.  Genuine contemplatives have testified to this long before scientists.[7]

We can experience this deeper and more complex level of reality, “because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”[8]  It is our hope and our responsibility.  May the Spirit of truth that Jesus promised lead us into all truth and to the fullness of the Trinitarian vision.[9]



[1] David S. Cunningham, These Three Are One: The Practice of Trinitarian Theology (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1998), p. 62.
[2] Ibid, pp. 59-65.
[3] Ilia Delio, The Unbearable Wholeness of Being (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2018), p. 32.
[4] Ibid, p. 44.
[5] Raimon Panikkar, Christophany: The Fullness of Man (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2004), p. xii.
[6] Fitzgerald, “From Impasse to Prophetic Hope: Crisis of Memory,” CTSA PROCEEDINGS 64 (2009), p. 38.
[7] Ibid, p. 41.
[8] Romans 5:5
[9] John 16:13.

Monday, June 10, 2019

Pentecost as the Renewal of Spiritual Community




The feast of Pentecost that we celebrate today has its roots in an ancient Jewish agricultural festival.  It was originally a thanksgiving ritual for the spring wheat harvest known as Shavuot in Hebrew.  Shavuot means “weeks” and it marked the counting of the seven weeks of days between Passover and Shavuot, or fifty days.  The first fruits of the wheat harvest were brought to the priest and offered in thanksgiving to God for sustaining the life of the people. 

In the Levitical prescription for the observance of the festival, we also find this admonition: “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and for the alien: I am the Lord your God.”[1]  This ritual recognized that life is a gift, and that honoring this gift requires the practice of justice and mercy. 

Perhaps given its celebration in relationship to the Passover festival, Shavuot eventually became associated with the giving of the Law (Torah).  Remember that the Passover festival celebrates the Jewish people’s liberation from slavery in Egypt.  According to tradition, fifty days elapsed between the exodus from Egypt and the arrival at Mt. Sinai, where Moses received the Torah from God.  The Torah constitutes a covenant between God and the Jewish people, creating a new community.  Shavuot thus celebrates not only the gift of life, but the gift of freedom, and the grace of a way of life that preserves both.  

What is important to notice here is that the Jewish covenant is a response to God’s liberating and life-giving love, and its observance is ordered toward the preservation and expansion of a way of life centered on that love.  Thus, the Jewish covenant isn’t a privilege enjoyed by a single people, so much as it is a vocation to model a way of life that opposes the injustice and cruelty of empire. 

In the Greek speaking world, Shavuot became known as Pentecost, the “fiftieth day.”  When the disciples of Jesus were gathered in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost, they were there to observe Shavuot.  By then, it had become one of the three annual Jewish pilgrimage festivals, bringing Jews from all over the world to Jerusalem to worship in the Temple.  But this Shavuot was different.  Around the time of Passover that year, Jesus had been crucified outside the walls of the city.  Then, God raised him from the dead, and he appeared to his disciples in a resurrected body – similar, yet different, from the Jesus they had known – for some forty days before ascending into heaven. 

Now, about 120 remaining disciples are together for Shavuot, praying and trying to make sense of all that has happened.  It is here that they receive a fresh outpouring of God’s Spirit, a renewed understanding of the covenant in light of Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension.  Through Jesus, they have experienced God’s liberating and life-giving love in a new way, and begin to reimagine what it means to be the people of God.   The Acts of the Apostles invite us to see the Easter – Pentecost experience in terms of the Passover – Shavuot experience: the birth of an alternative community in opposition to empire. 

One way of reading the biblical story is as the history of a people struggling to reimagine again and again, under different circumstances, what it means to be a community centered on God’s love.  This is what distinguishes a spiritual community from other kinds of communities.  Martha Campbell defines a spiritual community “as a group of individuals who recognize a mutual sense of belonging which is centered in God’s Spirit and in their deep desire for and love of God.”[2] What kind of community to we want to become?  What does it look like for our common life to be centered on God’s love in our time and place? 

It would be easier if there were a single, once and for all answer to this question, but different circumstances call forth different responses.  The annual observance of Shavuot/Pentecost is a reminder that God’s Spirit is continually refreshing us and renewing our capacity to live in such a way as to become the spiritual community that the world needs us to be.  Becoming that community is an evolutionary process, proceeding in fits and starts, because the spiritual community is always struggling to differentiate itself from community centered on the power of domination and death.

Writing in Germany in the 1920’s, from the center of the gathering storm of fascism, the theologian, Eberhard Arnold, wrote,

Here it becomes abundantly clear that the realization of true community, the actual building up of a communal life, is impossible without faith in a higher Power.  In spite of all that goes wrong, people try again and again to put their trust either in human goodness (which really does exist) or in the force of law.  But all their efforts are bound to come to grief when faced with the reality of evil.[3]

This is a strong statement, and it reflects the biblical affirmation of the power of love rooted in our openness to God’s Spirit.  It is in response to this love that spiritual community is created, strengthened, and renewed from age to age.  Reflecting on this affirmation, Thomas Merton wrote,

The ultimate thing is that we build community not on our love but on God’s love, because we do not really have that much love ourselves, and that is the real challenge of the religious life.  It puts us in a position where sometimes natural community is very difficult.  People are sent here and there, and often very incompatible people are thrown together.  Groups of people who would never have chosen to be together in an ordinary human way find themselves living together.  It is a test of faith.  It puts God’s love to the test and it is meant to . . . It isn’t just a question of whether you are building community with people that you naturally like, it is also a question of building community with people that God has brought together.

What is tested in community is faith.  It is not so much a question of who’s right, but do we believe?  I think that is the real issue.  Of course there are problems, but you put them all together and work them out on the basis and in the context of faith.  Faith is first, and the only one who is right is God.  No one of us knows precisely what God wants.  What we have to do is believe in the power of [God’s] love.  This power is given to us in proportion as we work together to find out what the score is, and then, if we do get together and decide on something – even if it is mistaken – if it is done in good faith, the power of God’s love will be in it.  We are going to make mistakes, but it really doesn’t matter that much.[4]

Merton invites us to take risks in re-imagining what spiritual community looks like in our time, trusting in the power of God’s love to teach and correct us.  It is through reflection on our collective experience that we discover God’s will for us, including, perhaps especially, our experiences of failure.  Our Scripture readings today assure us that the same Spirit that was poured out on the disciples at that first Pentecost after Jesus’ resurrection has been given to us.  It bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and this Spirit gives us the courage to resist falling back into slavery to fear.[5]  We can take risks for the sake of love.

This Spirit abides in us, and empowers us to love as Jesus loved, to act as Jesus acted, and, in fact, to do even greater things than him.[6]  It does not lock us in the past, but rather frees us to imagine what it means to be the spiritual community in service to the new creation that God is birthing.  We are the sons and daughters upon whom the Spirit has fallen so that we may prophesy the good news of salvation to all people, even in the midst of blood, and fire and smoky mist.[7]   

Leon Blum, writing in a Nazi death camp, wrote, “We work in the present, not for the present.”[8] Our vocation is to become the spiritual community that is not defined or constrained by the division, suffering, and death of the present time, but rather is open to receive the future that God desires for us.  This is the mystery of Pentecost, the mystery of the spiritual community that God is continually bringing into being that extends beyond the horizon of our own time, and for which we give ourselves, our souls, and bodies. 

Next year, St. James will celebrate the 130th anniversary of its founding, and mark the 10th anniversary of my tenure as rector.  It is an appropriate time for us to pray for a new Pentecost, a fresh outpouring of God’s spirit, so that we may renew our commitment to spiritual community centered on God’s love. Beginning this fall, we will engage in a series of prayerful conversations together and with our neighbors, to re-imagine what kind of community we need to become in service to the future God is calling into being.  I invite you to pray for curiosity, discernment, and courage, as together we discover a 2020 Vision for St. James. 

As we prayerfully open ourselves to God’s Spirit, may we discover with St. John of the Cross that

The soul feels its ardor strengthen and increase and its love become so refined in this ardor that seemingly there flow seas of loving fire within it, reaching to the heights and depths of the earthly and heavenly spheres, imbuing all with love.  It seems to it that the entire universe is a sea of love in which it is engulfed, for conscious of the living point or center of love within itself, it is unable to catch sight of the boundaries of this love.[9] 

Amen.



[1] Leviticus 23:22.
[2] Martha Campbell, lecture notes from Shalem Institute seminar on spiritual community (January 2009).
[3] Quoted in Thomas Merton, “Building Community on God’s Love,” Plough, accessed at www.plough.com on June 5, 2019.
[4] Merton, ibid. 
[5] Romans 8:14-16. 
[6] John 14:12-17.
[7] Acts 2:17-21.
[8] Quoted in Constance Fitzgerald, “From Impasse to Prophetic Hope:  Crisis of Memory,” CTSA Proceedings 64 (2009), p. 39.
[9] Quoted in Fitzgerald, p. 41 footnote 57.