Brethren and the Doctrine of the Trinity

After reading  a blog entry by a friend and colleague, Allan R. Bevere  (The Trinity Is Not an Appendix to the Christian Doctrine of God), I’ve begun thinking about the doctrine which is often assumed in most Christian traditions yet one with which some Brethren in the last century have been struggling. This coming Sunday Christians around the world will be celebrating Trinity Sunday. So I thought it would be appropriate to take this opportunity to think a bit about this distinctively Christian doctrine.

Rather than speaking from a negative perspective my preference is to look at the doctrine constructively and particularly how it might look from a Brethren perspective. However, before beginning it’s necessary to get a few assumptions out in the open. First, I must openly admit that I reject modernity’s re-(writing)-telling of the Christian story. In spite of a fundamental pragmatism I still end up embracing the triune God. Secondly, with what might be considered a second “naivete” my understanding and development of a theological understanding of God begins with the Christian scriptures (both First and Second Testaments). Finally I acknowledge that my theology is affected by the mystical spirituality of the Radical Reformation in so far as it opens me to embrace mystery and the pragmatic hermeneutics ($3 word involving perception, meaning, interpretation and application) of Anabaptism.

The doctrine of the Trinity historically has been shrouded in controversy, both ancient and contemporary. In the seminal stages of the church the controversies consisted of drawing boundaries as to how God was to be understood, perceived and articulated. Thus there were arguments surrounding the person and relationship of the Father to the Son. There were arguments made for and against the divinity of Jesus and the nature of his person. And there were arguments made for and against the personhood of the Holy Spirit. In more recent times arguments have surrounded the nature of God’s interrelationships.  There has been controversy over applying gender to the person of God, thus reference to the Father is questionable in some circles. In the past fifty years the historical Jesus debate has made arguments questioning Jesus’ divinity (part of modernity’s re-(writing)-telling of the story). Also in recent years the cultural climate being what it is with a resurgence of interest in spirituality questions have been raised as to the nature and role of the Spirit in the life of Jesus, the church, as well as in the divine relationship.

When speaking of the triune God, I have the image of Jesus (as I would imagine him) coming up out of the water of baptism in my mind. This event seems to provide a framework for developing an understanding of the Trinity. In this event Jesus emerges from the water to hear the Father’s affirmation and receive the Spirit’s descent upon him. The only way to make sense of this while remaining monotheistic is to interpret it in the context of the incarnation. Within the gospel narratives this event marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry which involves the charismatic signs of God’s kingdom breaking into the current reality. As Philippians 2 states, Jesus disrobes himself of his divine benefits in order to take the form of a servant. However, as an analogy for the Christian discipleship, upon receiving the Spirit at his baptism he is empowered to accomplish the ministry to which he has been called. This is often referred to as “kenosis.”

So in one sense this provides an example for the life of the disciple. Yet still a strong trinitarian understanding of God can play a more substantial role for a believing community than simply to serve as an example. From an ontological perspective is shapes the fiber of our being.  The works of people like Jürgen Moltmann (Spirit of Life) or Clark Pinnock (Flame of Love) resonate with Anabaptist-Pietist sentiments. These works begin with the fundamental understanding that the triune God is love from which all of the other characteristics of God emerge. Thus with Moltmann I can affirm that the person of the Spirit is God’s essence which binds the Father and the Son in unity. And I can affirm Clark Pinnock’s description of the Spirit as the divine “Loving Fellowship” which moves the Father and the Son in the dance of life. It is in this that one can begin to imagine the loving God inviting the Trinity’s creaturely children to join in participating in the divine dance of life immersed in the loving embrace of the Father, Son and Spirit. John’s Gospel describes the abiding relationship of the Father and the Son to such a degree of intimacy and closeness that when the disciples see Jesus they see the Father. In other words the Father is in the Son and the Son in the Father. Throughout the ages the inter and intra-relations of the Father, Son and Spirit have been described in terms of “perichoresis (inter-penetrating).” This relationship is such that it cannot be separated. The three persons are in complete unity sharing in the perichoretic love which gives and receives life eternally.

An Anabaptist-Pietist perspective would especially move the development of an understanding of the Trinity away from interpreting it through the western lens of (post)modernity’s hyper-individualism. Rather than defining “person” as an “autonomous conscious being,” person is better defined in terms of relationship. Thus the Father, Son and Holy Spirit can only be understood in relationship to each other. This in turn allows for the limited analogy of the family unit which resonates well Brethren thinking. This also allows for an answer to the question of gender when referring to God. In this sense it allows for an argument to be made for the “motherhood” of the Spirit.

These brief reflections are but a few possibilities for understanding and articulating an Anabaptist-Pietist perspective of God. I think there are exciting opportunities for serious theological reflection upon the Trinity from a Brethren perspective. If nothing else it would be a refreshingly interesting conversation for us to explore.

 

NuDunkers: Moving Beyond Language to Hospitality

On Friday, May 3rd, the NuDunkers facilitated another Google hangout hosting David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw, co-authors of Prodigal Christianity. I had been eagerly anticipating what turned out to be a surprising and thought-provoking conversation. My expectation for this time was that we would delve into the contents of their book instigating queries as to instigation of ideas and explanations for areas that might still be unclear. I was even expecting hopefully to tap into some of the inspiration this book seems to be generating concerning a faithful Christian community in a post-Christendom world. However, as usual I was surprised (and fascinated in a good way) by the direction the conversation took. When you watch the video it is noticeable how both those on video as well as those participating via chat got caught up in a conversation regarding language. For more on that conversation I direct you to my fellow NuDunker bloggers: Josh Brockway’s http://collationes.wordpress.com/2013/05/07/the-prodigal-god-and-our-language/ ; Dana Cassel’s http://www.well-yah.blogspot.com/2013/05/poetics-and-process.html ; and Laura Stone’s http://thepatchworkpietist.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/jesus-is-lord-therefore/ (Brian Gumm takes it a different direction focusing on what NuDunkers is and what it takes to be part of the conversation http://restorativetheology.blogspot.com/2013/05/nudunkers-welcome-to-conversation.html).

This being said, I’d like to take an opportunity to go in a bit of a different direction. While I greatly appreciate Prodigal Christianity, which seems to say much of what I would like to say only better, “sign-post seven: the church,” surprisingly left out a substantial practice of the church, hospitality. To be fair, this is discussed under the heading of the Lord’s Supper but it seems that for a community which is seeking to reside in God’s prodigality, hospitality would be central. In fact I would argue that it warrants its own heading as a core practice. I had planned to ask this question during the conversation but things went a different way. So now I ask the question, “Why not include hospitality as one of those core practices?”

Biblical hospitality (as compared to hotels) unlike the modern virtues of “inclusion” and “tolerance,” requires the costly giving of grace and love. Hospitality as Jesus modeled it requires the hosts into radical postures of feetwashing and service. Instead of “putting up with someone or something” or including someone, hospitality requires lovingly embracing the other in ways that go beyond caring for the basic necessities of life. It essentially necessitates a vulnerable openness which doesn’t merely welcome, but invites the other (even enemy) to share in one’s very living space. I particularly remember a story told by a Palestinian brother (Christian) just outside of Bethlehem. He told of an occasion when the Israeli military came to his family’s farm to evict them to make way for more Jewish settlements. He told of how they came to the gate with their tanks and armored vehicles. Rather than fearfully keeping them outside the gates, he welcomed them in for a cup of tea. He described how through this simple act a confrontation of “enemies” was transformed. The military personnel enjoyed their tea and left peacefully.

It seems to me that the practice of biblical hospitality is essential for any community seeking to abide in the prodigality of God’s grace. In fact, I would argue that hospitality is no more efficacious expression of prodigal faith than one that practices this kind of hospitality. It is wasteful in its grace and risky with its invitation. After reading Prodigal Christianity I couldn’t help but think that this radical (going to the root) expression of the Christian faith is marked by a practice which extends directly from the Lord’s Supper into the everyday life of the believer. It is in this that prodigal Christianity is sacramentally incarnational. It is this for which the world longs. So if we could have our conversation again, I’d like to ask David and Geoff if they would include hospitality as one of those essential practices of the prodigal church. Maybe, next time.

NuDunkers and a Pilgrimage into Prodigality

Come join the conversation as the NuDunkers chat with Authors, David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw: http://t.co/l3fD8AvX7k

Having recently finished reading the joint project by David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw, Prodigal Christianity, I have been pondering their argument that the post-Christendom church must be about the prodigal of faith the Lord Jesus, the Messiah. While I won’t spend the time reviewing the whole text here, I will primarily focus upon what they termed the “seventh signpost, Church: the Journey as the Body of Christ into the World.”

The whole idea of prodigality and faith is fascinating to me on a number of levels. First, the traditional interpretation of “prodigal” is negative as it is descriptively associated with the rebellious and deviant behavior of the younger son in Jesus’ parable of the lost son. What Fitch and Holsclaw do with this adjective stems from Karl Barth’s reinterpretation of the parable in which he attributes God, the Father and Jesus with prodigality in a positive sense. This particular interpretation sees in the parable not only the negative attribute of prodigality with the disobedient son who wastefully squanders the inheritance he prematurely demanded. But it is also inclusive of the extravagant and even undeservedly wasteful grace given to the disobedient son upon his return. This particular reading with specific focus upon the father prodigally giving grace to the son, Barth retells the parable replacing the father with the heavenly Father and the disobedient son with Jesus the obedient son. Continuing this thought the Father then sends the obedient prodigal out to the far country to retrieve the many prodigally disobedient children. Admittedly this is but a brief and not so thorough explanation of the parable and Barth’s interpretation. However, it particularly raises the question as to how this affects what it means to be a church community.

Secondly, what I particularly appreciated about their argument was that it moves the foundation of understanding “church” from the gathering of believing individuals to an incarnational understanding of the church as conduit for the manifestation and in-breaking of God’s kingdom. A fundamental assumption of this is not that the church does work to bring in the kingdom. Rather God’s Spirit is working in the world and that it is the church’s obligation to discern where it is occurring and then openly participate. It is in this way that God establishes his kingdom through the church in the contemporary world. While it may appear to be a difference in semantics, it is ontologically different as to posture and approach. The former is a “doing” approach and the latter a “being” (communion) approach.

What is refreshing is the use and understanding of incarnation. Too often the term “incarnation” is used as a synonym of “embodiment.” This is unfortunate usage ignores the deep Trinitarian and especially pneumatological undertones “incarnation” denotes. When referring to the church as the “social incarnation” of Jesus in the world it explicitly implies the nature of the church being imbued with the Spirit kenotically in a manner not unlike the Spirit’s descent upon Jesus at his baptism. Moreover the giving of the Spirit is essentially God’s work of establishing his kingdom under the lordship of Jesus as incarnated in the gathering disciples. It is, however, not enough to speak of incarnation ideologically. Incarnation theology especially assumes the embbedness of the church in community. As described in the creation account of Genesis, human beings were not created to be alone, but to be in community.  The entire trajectory of God’s redeeming work of restoring justice and establishing his righteousness is by means of reconciling the seminal broken relationships which have affected every aspect of creation since. In pragmatic terms, this implies is that Christians are to discern to discern God’s presence and work in whatever context they find themselves and when revealed to openly bear witness to the gospel of God’s kingdom breaking in through loving acts of hospitality and mercy. Fitch and Holsclaw do not simply provide ideological arguments, but practical illustrations demonstrating what it looks like. Moreover, the pragmatic argument for a church that isn’t about programs but practices was significant in a world where More times than not I found myself saying, “Yes.” And yet some uncertainty regarding the framework of their argument remained.

Having affirmed this book, I’m particularly curious as to some of the surrounding conversation regarding author’s they engage (e.g., http://www.reclaimingthemission.com/me-and-mr-tony-jones-we-got-a-thing-goin-on/). The very nature of theological conversation requires engagement with others, especially from differing perspectives. The danger in taking on a task in this way is that some will interpret it within the framework of a Hegelian dialectic rather than relational conversation. Necessarily I must admit I’m not clear as to whether or not it was intended to place the Emergent church and Neo-Reformed on opposing ends of a spectrum (thesis – antithesis). However, seeing that the entire text elevates relational community led me to read this as a way of engaging in conversation. Once again the irony of the western mind getting in the way of the text’s message illustrates the real need for prodigal community.

Additionally, as Fitch and Holsclaw argue for a faith that demonstrates the same prodigality as demonstrated by God, I think that further reflection and study needs to be done regarding missiological approaches especially in regards to benevolent giving. One thing I would suggest is that when giving is divorced from relationship it opens the door for corruption. What I mean by corruption is not necessarily criminal in nature but that which adversely places both parties within a dysfunctional power structure which creates a system of injustice for both the beneficiary and benefactor. In a recent conversation I had with a missionary we discussed the negative effects of patron – client relationships which create cultures of dependency leaving the beneficiaries subservient (and dependent upon) to the generosity of the benefactor. These effects have serious implications which lead churches down paths that exclude the opportunity to exhibit and share in God’s prodigal grace through embedded relationships. Instead they become a self-serving means of making the benefactor feel good by giving monetary charity without ever having to vulnerably enter into real relationships with the recipients. Moreover with the institutionalization of the dysfunction, it becomes necessary for the institution to both keep the beneficiary dependent within this system in order to maintain the giving outlet for the benefactors. Prodigal Christianity seems to provide a way to Christian practices and away from church programs. In doing so it may just correct some of the wrong turns in the field of missions.

This Friday, May 3, 2013, the NuDunkers group will be spending some time chatting via Google hangout at 11:00 a.m. I look forward to asking some questions about these thoughts and I’m sure that between now and then I’ll have a number of other questions as well. Come join the conversation at: http://t.co/1Kt5Ewmngj.

The Church as Occupying a War-Zone

In his recent blog, The War on Drugs and the birth of a police state : Restorative Theology, Brian Gumm observes the militarization of police in the U.S. and its implicit effects upon the wider society. This was particularly evident in the horrific scene which unfolded in last week’s bombing of the Boston Marathon. While I agree and appreciate Brian’s observations and argument, I’d like to take it in a bit of a different direction.

The events of last week struck close to home for me. I was born and raised in Southeastern Massachusetts and the Boston area (and its unique and diverse subcultures) played a significant role in my identity formation. I am no longer a resident of Mass. but a large portion of my family still lives there. I have a close cousin who serves as a police chief in one of the suburban residential communities in the southeastern region and a long time friend who is a helicopter pilot for the Mass. state police (who was probably actively involved in the search). It’s been more than a decade since Laura and I moved out of our home state to begin a remarkable faith journey that finally led us to neo-anabaptism and northeast Ohio.

As I was driving to Akron last week, having just spoken with my sister who was told that work was cancelled because of the events in the neighboring town, I suddenly noticed tears streaming down my face. It was really quite odd because I wasn’t expecting it nor was I aware of its source. As I processed I realized that I was mourning the loss of life, injuries sustained, terrorizing threats to my family and friends, but most of all the long lasting traumatic effects such acts of violence and the responses they instigate have upon communities. In this case it is one which is very close to home.

In the midst of processing all of this, many questions arose within me; two in particular rose to the top (neither of which am I sure to have an adequate answer). First, where was the redeeming presence of God being manifested in the midst of this? And secondly, in a world so highly militarized how does the church announce the in-breaking kingdom of God through Jesus, the messiah? What spawned these questions was the seemingly dark abyss being stared into as bombs were going off amid bursts of gunfire on a night darkened street in Watertown, Mass. Where is the place of the church here?

In his book, War and the American Difference, Stanley Hauerwas argues that the church as mission bears witness to the kingdom incarnationally. Following in these steps, David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw (Prodigal Christianity) refer to this as “being with those on the fringes.” The fundamental ontology of the radical (at the root of) ecclesia is the embedded nature of its existence. The potential witness and transforming effects of this incarnational presence could disrupt the status quo culture to such an extent that healing and reconciliatory wholeness would inaugurate the advent of God’s revolutionary kingdom locally. What I mean by this is that when believers (disciples of Jesus) look for instances and locations where God’s Spirit is working it is in those occasions that we move the kingdom with us into our neighborhoods, work places, schools and other public spaces. However it is only when this radical ecclesia is abiding on the fringes with the “least of these” in ways in which their lives are relationally invested in the lives of their neighbors through hospitable friendship that the church incarnates the missio dei.

Essentially what all this means is that the church’s place is to occupy the war-zone with the peace of Christ. It is precisely in these places that Jesus’ presence is most needed. Even and especially amid the violence and desperation of battle God is “Immanuel,” God with us. I wonder what it would look like if God’s kingdom emerged within a community that has been ruptured with such violence? Could such an event quell the effects of patriotic vitriol and fear? Could this radical ecclesia efficaciously bear witness to the cruciform contrast of God’s kingdom? While I no longer reside in Mass., I am looking for those places where God’s Spirit is already at work so that I might submit to Jesus’ lordship and participate regardless of the surrounding circumstances. And simultaneously I lament the tragedy of lost lives and mutilated bodies. I mourn the loss of the community’s sense of security. I remember as a child walking the streets of Boston looking around in wonder at the skyline and the diverse multitude of people that make up that community. It seems like yesterday that I woke up early and took my daughter to Boston to walk the streets before the city woke. We walked through little Italy and past the Old North Church all the way up to Boston common. There was a remarkable sense of peace and newness as the day was just beginning. I never felt as sense of threat or danger. Now this is but a memory. Like the days following 9/11 everything has changed and I lament that loss. Like the psalmist I cry out to God, “How long, O Lord?” My hope is not in the government’s response or its ability to keep me safe. My hope is in the emergence and establishment of God’s “kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.” And so, this I pray.