The Bible itself doesn’t formulate a doctrine of the
Trinity. While there are references to each of the three persons, it
was left to the Church to figure out what it meant as time went on. For some that is an uncomfortable fact, because it sounds like a bunch of
bishops just made the whole thing up. But we need to remember that the promise of
Pentecost is that the Spirit is there to guide the Church into all truth.
The fourth-century Church faced some pretty dramatic changes
that were set in motion when Emperor Constantine converted to the Christian
faith. Overnight, the Church’s relationship with the dominant culture changed
from being a persecuted, counter-cultural sect to becoming the official
religion of the empire. (One aspect of that change is that bishops started to
more closely resemble kings, even in their dress!) The Church which had from
its inception stood over and against the culture, now faced new challenges as a
cultural force to be reckoned with—and with responsibility for helping to shape
public policy. There is no way to overestimate the radical shift that required
as the Church adapted to new circumstances and a whole new set of challenges. One of the odd new things, then, is that those bishops gathered
at Nicaea because they were summoned there by the Emperor—who wanted the matter
settled once and for all on what the Church was teaching about God. Kings like
things settled, and don’t do well with rancorous theological debate. It’s no
accident that the Church became more dogmatic as it became more and more
established.
At Nicaea ,
there were, on the one hand, some who wanted to stress the notion that God is
One. If they had carried the day, then Christianity would be very much in
line with the theology of the other branches of Abrahamic faith: both Judaism
and Islam stress that God is one. Moses and Mohammed are seen as great prophets
and leaders and visionaries—but no Jew or Muslim claims to worship them or pray to them. Neither is understood to be "very god of very god.” The problem with that approach for “orthodox” Christiana is that the witness of the Church was (and is) that Jesus Christ was
more than a prophet—more than Moses or Muhammad—and that in the life and death
and resurrection of Jesus the Word that
was with God and the Word that was God had become flesh. So at the other end of
the spectrum were those who wanted to stress the three-ness of God’s Being—precisely
because they were so clear that they had experienced the presence of God
through Jesus and the Holy Spirit. But in stressing the three—Father, Son, and
Spirit—it sounded to some in the Church like polytheism—which contradicted the
monotheism of the Scriptural witness.
And so they argued and prayed, and they argued and prayed
some more. I suspect that the bishops who gathered at Nicaea felt at times a lot like we feel in the Church today, in the midst of what sometimes seem to be irreconcilable
differences. Is God three or is God one, they asked. Someone had to be right, which would suggest that the other side clearly had to be wrong. Right?
No, they eventually
concluded. Sometimes when you ask a really good question the answer is multivalent. What if both sides were right, or at least mostly right? And yet without the truth of the other, completely wrong? Sometimes truth
is paradoxical—a mystery.
I think that the real miracle of Nicaea (and evidence of the Spirit's presence) is that they did hang in there with each other - arguing and praying, praying and arguing - until
eventually they began to hear one another. Until eventually they began to listen
again for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The doctrine that emerged was “One
God, revealed in three persons”—as outlined in the the Nicene Creed, which thankfully begins with the word "we." (It is a statement of faith that emerged in community, for the sake of community; it is not a litmus test!)
If we turn this into a matter for our intellect to
grasp, we miss the point.
If we use this (or any other church doctrine) as a “weapon” to decide who is in
and who is out, we misunderstand the meaning of “orthodox” faith. Literally
that word “orthodox” is not (as is sometimes asserted) about “right belief” - as if
one side has the “right” answers and the other side is “wrong.” Nicaea is a case study in
just why that approach is so misguided. Rather, when we sing the doxology—
Praise God from whom all blessings
flow!
Praise God all
creatures here below!
Praise God above
ye heavenly host!
Praise Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost!
- we are singing “words of praise.” Orthodoxy shares
that same meaning—literally. It’s not
about right belief but about right
praise. If we mean to help
people more deeply praise God, then
we need to learn that the doctrine of the Trinity is not a math problem to be
solved; but a mystery to be embraced in love. Maybe the best way to do that is to sing it.
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