The Greek word “perichoresis” is one of the most important concepts in Christian
theology. The word itself is a compound of two Greek words: “peri” (from which we get our word
perimeter) which means “around”; and “choreia” (from which we get our word choreography) which means
dancing. Perichoresis literally means
“dancing around.” And it turns out that the church for this. In fact,
historically the church has been more in favor of this than most anything else.
You see, the way in which the early church was best able to describe the
practical functioning of the trinity was to employ this particular word: perichoresis. The trinity is the Father,
the Son, and the Spirit “dancing around” together. What if that means that the
trinity is not so much an ancient artifact[1] of abstract theology and questionable mathematics, but rather is “a
steady call and invitation to participate in the energetically active life of
God”?[2]
At the heart of the Christian faith is a unique
understanding of God.[3] I think that most Christians would
wholeheartedly profess belief in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but
are skeptical as to what the practical, real life, lived-out daily payoff is
for that belief. We question how something with so little impact on our lived
out faith can actually be all that important. And so we begin to relegate the
trinity from the center of the story to the margins of the story. But there is
a problem with that… the trinity is the center of the story.
The God who is Father, Son, and Spirit
dancing around together is our story.
I like this dancing
metaphor, and I think that it has several useful applications. First, unless
you are my five year old listening to Weezer, you usually don’t dance alone. So
we find out that Christians believe that God is three—Father, Son, and Spirit.
Now these three are all unique—each has their own identity (the Father never
becomes the Son, the Spirit isn’t confused with the Father). God is an eternal
diversity.
Now, these three
must relate to one another. And this ancient metaphor of dancing recasts the
way we understand relationships—not only in terms of God, but all relationships.
We see that instead of jockeying for position and maneuvering for power, the
God that dances around reveals relationships of mutuality, trust, and
cooperation—or in one word, unity. While the Father, Son, and Spirit are all
different, they are unified in their divine essence—their interrelationship,
their dancing around with each other. God is an eternal unity.
One of the greatest
things about the Christian doctrine of the trinity is the power of the declaration
that God is eternally a community of beings—Father, Son, and Spirit together
forever from before the beginning to after the end. God is an eternal relationship
of Father, Son, and Spirit, which means that that God is essentially—in God’s
essence—relational. Community is not simply something that God likes; community
is something that God is!
God is eternal,
perpetual relationship. Because of this we come to realize that the trinity is
not a theological puzzle to solve; rather, it is the frame inside of which we
solve our theological puzzles. We cannot simply forego the “difficult” or “demanding”
discussions of the trinity because we do not understand them, opting instead to
talk about God’s love, because we cannot speak of God’s love without
understanding that God’s love is communal and relational—a mutual submission
and empowerment, an eternal giving and submitting in perfect equality.
Divine reality is
communal, and this has profound and broad reaching implications. The God who is community created us for community—both now and eternally. And
so we find that the church’s belief in the trinity is not simply an exercise of
humdrum orthodoxy, archaic vocabulary, and sketchy math. Rather, our embrace
and proclamation of the trinity is a witness to a renewed, practical, powerful,
and essential way of seeing reality.
God is
community—Father, Son, and Spirit dancing around together forever.
God calls
community—the church in its relationships mirrors the divine community in
equality, humility, unity, and love. As the body of Christ, the church is
caught up into the divine dance.
God builds
community—the church’s mission to show the world what community can really be
invites the world to embrace the community of the kingdom of God. We teach the
world a better way to dance.
God fulfills
community—When Christ returns and the kingdom of God is the only reality left,
we will experience the community for which we were created, for which all
creation longs, for which God sent his Son to redeem us. We will enjoy the dance
of God together forever.
So please, Christians
of the world, for the love of God and for the sake of the world: dance.
[1] “In
fact, the entire Christian belief system stands or falls within the confession
of God's Trinity. It is the core of the Christian faith, the root of all its
dogmas, the basic content of the new covenant... It is in the doctrine of the
Trinity that we feel the heartbeat of God's entire revelation for the
redemption of humanity. We are baptized in the name of the Triune God, and in
that name we find rest for our soul and peace for our conscience. Our God is
above us [Father], before us [Son] and within us [Spirit].” (Herman Bavinck,
1903)
“This monumental dogma seems to many
even within the Church to be a museum piece, with little or no relevance to the
crucial problems of contemporary life and thought. (Whalen & Pelikan, 1972)
[2] Eugene Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places,
45-46.
[3] Stanley J. Grenz,
Created For Community, 41-42.
“No dimension is closer to the heart of the mystery of our faith than
our confession, “I believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Above
everything else, this conception of God set Christianity apart from the
religious traditions of the world. Consequently, no teaching lies closer to the
center of Christian theology than does the doctrine of the Trinity.”
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