ISSUES IN THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY
In the opening section of his work In the Face of Mystery,1 the American liberal Mennonite theologian Gordon D. Kaufman distinguishes two genera of systematic theology: “exposition” and “construction.” He thinks that historic Christian theology is largely devoted to the former, whereas contemporary scholarship must be concerned with the latter. Classical theologians of the past were for the most part engaged in expounding and making sense of doctrine and dogma by appealing to authoritative documents such as the Bible, creeds, and confessions. That way of doing theology is no longer tenable. In its place, he thinks we should conceive of the task of the theologian as one of imaginative construction. We must face up to the fact that all theology is human construction about the divine, which is ultimately mysterious and beyond our ken. Doctrine isn’t merely the projection onto the clouds of an idealized image of a heavenly Father, which was Ludwig Feuerbach’s central claim about Christian thought. But if it is not that, it is at least constructive in the sense of being our account of God, the divine, and the world in which we find ourselves. Revelation is not a category that has a large role to play in this conception of the theological task.
There are lessons to be learnt from Kaufman’s account, even if it is sometimes about which roads not to take. For one thing, he is right to emphasize the role imagination plays in constructive theology. He is also right about the importance of admitting our fallibility in formulating our own arguments for particular dogmatic conclusions, and our limited purview. A Methodist theologian cannot claim to see everything clearly, but she can see certain things and may have her theological “vision” corrected by contact with thinkers belonging to other Christian confessions, whose theological interests are rather different. The same is true, mutatis mutandis, of those belonging to other traditions, such as Presbyterians, Anglicans, Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Orthodox, Pentecostals, and so on. However, Kaufman’s distinction between theology-as-exposition and theology-as-construction is surely a false dichotomy. One can do expositional and constructive theology, taking into account the findings of thinkers of the past and of biblical and creedal witnesses, while also attempting to formulate a way of articulating in a contemporary context the faith once delivered to the saints. It is just this balance between retrieval and construction, exposition and reflection, that informs the papers contained within the covers of the present volume and the theme of the conference at which they were originally delivered.
This need for both theological exposition and construction is nowhere clearer than in recent work that has been done on the doctrine of the Trinity. A generation ago it was not uncommon to find textbook discussions of the Eastern versions of the doctrine of the Trinity, which emphasized the distinctness of the divine persons over their unity, and Western versions of the doctrine, which emphasized the unity of the Godhead over the divine persons. Whereas the worry with Eastern doctrines was that they would press too far in the direction of tritheism, the concern faced by Western doctrines was that they would collapse into modalism. With either distinction in the Godhead, one could possibly end up with three gods not one, or with one divine entity wearing three masks, not three divine persons properly conceived.
Such an oversimplification of the complexity of trinitarian doctrine hardly does justice to the events that shaped the dogma as we have it today. Recent work on the development of fourth- and fifth-century Nicene Christianity has shown just how mistaken such a picture really is. Lewis Ayres, one of the contributors to this volume, has been in the forefront of this revisioning of the development of the doctrine of the Trinity.
But the Trinity has also been the rallying cry for a theological program in modern dogmatics after Karl Barth. If we have a right conception of the Trinity, so this story goes, we will be able to unlock all sorts of difficult knots into which particular doctrines have become contorted over the generations. For instance, a right application of the Trinity to a doctrine of creation will help us not to end up with an understanding of the creature-creator relationship that privileges transcendence over immanence, or vice versa. That is, we will be saved from so exalting God (i.e., so emphasizing his transcendence) that we end up with a hidden God who cannot be known by us; we will also be saved from thinking God so condescends to us (i.e., is so immanent in the creation) that the line dividing divinity from the creaturely becomes thin indeed, if not blurred. Here too there are things to commend, and that are instructive.
The Trinitarian Theology Project, if we may call it this, could be thought of as a corrective to the nineteenth-century dereliction of the dogma, epitomized most starkly by Schleiermacher’s relegation of the Trinity to an appendix in his monumental work, The Christian Faith. Barth placed at the head of his Church Dogmatics what his German forbear thought too arcane to be accommodated in the body of his own system of theology. For this recentering of the Trinity in post-Barthian systematic theology we should all be grateful. What is more, this project has been taken forward by a number of creative contemporary theologians whose work has influenced much recent constructive dogmatic theology, such as the Roman Catholic Catherine Mowry LaCugna, the Lutheran theologians, Robert Jenson and Wolfhart Pannenberg, and their Reformed colleagues, Jürgen Moltmann, Colin Gunton, and Thomas Torrance.
Yet the Trinitarian Theology Project has been called into serious question in recent years. Part of this has to do with the reevaluation of the development of the historic doctrine of the Trinity just mentioned. In addition, there is a question about the viability of Trinitarian Theology so conceived. Is it really the case that the whole of the Christian tradition was misguided or mistaken in the way it thought about the Trinity? Have our forbears missed the importance of the doctrine in its application to other areas of Christian theology? Does the doctrine of the Trinity provide a kind of dogmatic panacea by means of which we can cure all sorts of historic theological mistakes? To increasing numbers of scholars today, this seems unlikely. Stephen Holmes and Fred Sanders, two of our other contributors, have been party to this discussion and have made valuable contributions towards a more rounded, and balanced, understanding of the importance of the doctrine of the Trinity and its place in the history of Christian theology.
Alongside these debates within systematic theology has been an increasingly sophisticated literature on the Trinity written by those trained primarily in analytic philosophy, or in conversation with analytic philosophy. This has even generated a new model of the Trinity, named Constitution Trinitarianism.2 On this view the Trinity is analogous to a block of stone composed of marble. Suppose there is a marble slab fashioned into a pillar that is also a statue, which has been placed in an ancient temple. On one way of conceiving things, there are three distinct, but co-located entities composed or constituted by the one stone slab, namely, the block of marble, the pillar, and the statue. Nevertheless, all three are constituted from the one marble block. They are identical to the marble; yet they are distinct things. In a similar manner, the persons of the Trinity are distinct, and yet constituted by the one divine substance.3
Thomas McCall, another of our contributors, has made an important contribution toward bringing this analytic-philosophical discussion to the attention of systematic theologians.4 He has also been an advocate of a more moderate and nuanced approach to the so-called the Trinity, that family of trinitarian views that emphasizes the threeness of the divine persons and their community in the Godhead. In his contribution to this volume, he turns his attention from models of the Trinity to the vexed question of the relationship between divine unity and triunity — a central aspect of the so-called “threeness-oneness problem” for the dogma, which has also been an important topic of analytic-theological discussion.
In Christian dogmatics there has been a longstanding debate about whether and to what extent we can predicate anything of the divine nature. If God is ineffable (as many classical, orthodox divines claim), then we can know literally nothing of the divine essence. God’s internal life is, as it were, ever beyond our ken, like the cloud that covered Mount Sinai, hiding the divine presence from the Israelites below. What we do know of God is revealed to us in the divine economy (God’s work in creation) and in the divine missions (the roles the persons of the Trinity take on in order to accomplish creaturely salvation). The divine processions (the way in which the particular divine persons are eternally individuated as Father, Son, and Spirit) are only comprehensible, on this way of thinking, to the extent that they are revealed to us via the divine economy and missions. We cannot get “behind” the divine economic relations as revealed to us in Scripture to some deity abstracted, as it were, from the trinitarian missions.
Others are more sanguine about what we can know of God in himself, however. What God reveals of himself in Scripture, what is understood in the creeds and confessions of Christendom, maps onto who God is: he really is as he appears to be in the economy in his processions and missions. As Colin Gunton puts it, “the problem is a relentless concentration on what God is not, on the analogically reached doctrine that God is essentially what the world is not.”5 One of the most important contributions to this concern about what we can know of God in se (in himself) and God pro nobis (for us, revealed to us) is found in the much-debated “rule” touted by the Roman Catholic theologian Karl Rahner in the mid-twentieth century. We can express it like this:
Rahner’s Rule: the immanent Trinity (that is, God in himself) is identical to the economic Trinity (God revealed to us), and vice versa.
But, as has been pointed out by a number of different scholars, this seems to be either trivially true, or extremely controversial.6 It is trivially true if what is meant by the axiom is that God as he is revealed to us is identical with God as he is in himself. However, it may also be taken to mean something like, God in himself is identical to God revealed to us in the economy of salvation, and this is how God must be; he must be the God who acts in this way. Clearly, this is a much more controversial claim, one that many theologians concerned to uphold a strong doctrine of divine freedom will find unacceptable.
The debates about Rahner’s Rule raise in an acute form the worry about the relation between what we can know of God in himself and what we can know of the divine trinitarian life via divine revelation. Karen Kilby is a contemporary lay Roman Catholic theologian, and in her contribution to this volume she takes up some of these concerns with what is often called apophatic rather than cataphatic approaches to the Trinity. (Apophaticism has to do with “negative theology,” that is, with saying what God is not — he is incorporeal, atemporal, unchangeable, and so on; cataphaticism has to do with saying what God is — he is good, he is triune, he is glorious, and so on.)
Related to this issue of the balance between what can and cannot be predicated of God, and whether anything we say about God successfully refers to something “in” the divine essence, as it were, is the matter of religious language. Although this does not feature as the subject of discussion in much of what follows, it does do a lot of work behind the scenes. If we think that God is good as you or I are good, then (on one way of thinking about it) God’s goodness is just a more perfect, expansive instance of the sort of partial, limited goodness we see in other creatures. However, this approach to divine language, often called the univocal account, is usually treated with suspicion by those theologians for whom apophatic theology plays an important role.
It is a commonplace in much historic discussion of the Trinity to hold something like a metaphysical package of notions regarding the dogma. These include a penchant for an apophatic approach to the divine essence, skepticism about whether religious language actually refers to the divine essence (which is beyond human ken), and an understanding of religious language about God that makes room for both similarity and difference between creaturely attributes and divine ones. This is the analogical approach to religious language. On this way of thinking, divine goodness is both like and unlike creaturely instances of goodness. He is good, as in some limited and partial sense fallen creatures may be good. But his goodness is also significantly different from anything creaturely. This is not only because of the degree of divine goodness (being perfectly rather than imperfectly or partially instantiated, as with creatures), but also because God is not one created being among other beings, but something entirely different from any created entity. He cannot be classified as creatures can into natural kinds and species; to attempt to do so would be like comparing apples and oranges — or (perhaps better) like two-dimensional beings living in a world like Flatland trying to comprehend the existence of three-dimensional beings living in a world like our own.7
Several of the authors in this volume conceive of the doctrine of the Trinity in this way. One task that faces contemporary systematic theology in light of the flourishing of different approaches to the study of the dogma is where to draw the line between what we can know of the triune God and what is beyond us. Hand waiving in the direction of “mystery” is not an adequate response. Nor is a glib cataphatic theology that dismisses mystery with the same scorn as paradox and contradiction. At least part of the solution to this conundrum depends on the approach to religious language that is taken and the confidence with which theologians can discern what is and is not within the bounds of human understanding, including a coherent understanding of this most central Christian mystery and the God of whom it speaks.
OVERVIEW OF THE CHAPTERS
Having given an account of some (but by no means all) of the major themes in current systematic accounts of the Trinity, we can turn to consideration of the nine chapters of this symposium. They are organized according to the dynamics of the particular theological tasks they undertake. The introductory chapter by Fred Sanders offers a broad survey of the way the doctrine of the Trinity informs the project of systematic theology at large; it also serves to introduce some of the themes later chapters take up and develop. The next two chapters engage rather energetically in retrieval of theological commitments that were considered central in pre-modern trinitarianism but have been marginalized or rejected outright in modern trinitarianism. As previously mentioned, Thomas McCall attempts to rehabilitate the doctrine of divine simplicity by describing two historical versions of it that are philosophically defensible by modern, analytic standards. Stephen Holmes likewise recalls the patristic arguments for the inseparable external operations of the Trinity and, instead of recoiling from that doctrine as much modern theology has, ventures a constructive argument for drawing even further implications from it.
Lewis Ayres and Karen Kilby are both concerned to discipline theological curiosity. Ayres explores the way our knowledge of the Trinity takes the form of mystery, and while trinitarian theology is not antagonistic to conceptual clarity about its claims, it is primarily oriented toward transformation by participation in the things revealed. Kilby targets a particular set of projects that appeal to a social model of the Trinity as the model for human political activity, subjecting them to a searching critique before offering her own alternative recommendation, an apophatic version of how the Trinity can inform politics.
The next two chapters, by Kendall Soulen and Darren Sumner, seek to describe the relationship between the Father and the Son in the immanent Trinity. Soulen does so by giving careful attention to a neglected topic from biblical theology, that is, the persistence of the divine name as a theological force in the New Testament. He draws surprising doctrinal conclusions from the Father’s giving of the divine name to the Son and applies these insights to recent theological controversies. Sumner launches even more directly into some of these recent controversies, especially the disputed question of how to interpret Karl Barth on the subordination of the Son.
The final two chapters turn toward some practical implications of trinitarian theology. Kyle Strobel recovers Jonathan Edwards’s theology of beauty and the trinitarian contours of the beatific vision, in order to show that the contemplation of the Trinity is itself a transformative practice. Finally, Jason Sexton reports on a vast range of missional movements in the global church that are best understood as outworkings of a trinitarian theology of missions that results in baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
We hope that these essays may contribute to the project of revitalizing the study of the dogma of the Trinity and the advancing of a properly trinitarian theology ad maiorem dei gloriam.
Oliver D. Crisp and Fred Sanders, February 2014
1. Gordon D. Kaufman, In the Face of Mystery: A Constructive Theology (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), especially the preface and part 1.
2. This has been developed by Michael C. Rea and Jeff Brower, in part based on work by Peter van Inwagen and Peter Geach on the concept of relative identity. See Jeffrey E. Brower and Michael C. Rea, “Material Constitution and the Trinity,” Faith and Philosophy 22 (2005): 57 – 76. [Reprinted in Thomas H. McCall and Michael C. Rea, eds. Philosophical and Theological Essays on the Trinity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 263 – 82.]; and idem, “Understanding the Trinity,” Logos: A Journal of Catholic Thought and Culture 8 (2005): 145 – 57. For a recent critique of this model, see Dale Tuggy, “Constitution Trinitarianism: An Appraisal,” Philosophy and Theology 25 (2013): 129 – 62.
3. More would need to be said about this model if we were to give a full account of it, especially about its use of the controversial metaphysical doctrine of relative identity. It has also been the subject of some discussion and objection in the literature, a recent summary of which can be found in Dale Tuggy’s excellent article “Trinity” in the online Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, located at: http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/trinity/#RelIde (accessed 01/16/14).
4. See Thomas H. McCall, Which Trinity? Whose Monotheism? Philosophical and Systematic Theologians on the Metaphysics of Trinitarian Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), and with Michael C. Rea, eds. Philosophical and Theological Essays on the Trinity. See also William Hasker, Metaphysics and the Tri-Personal God (Oxford Studies in Analytic Theology; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).
5. Colin E. Gunton, Act and Being: Towards a Theology of The Divine Attributes (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 16.
6. See, e.g., Randal Rauser, “Rahner’s Rule: An Emperor without Clothes?” in IJST 7.1 (2005): 81 – 94.
7. See Edwin A. Abbot, Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions (Oxford: Oxford World Classics, 2006 1884.).