The Holy Trinity and the House of Perfect Love

Icon of the Holy Trinity painted by St Andrew Rublev 

in memory of the Russian St Sergius

Genesis 18:1-8

The LORD appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day. He lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, three men were standing in front of him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent door to meet them and bowed himself to the earth and said, “O Lord, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree, while I bring a morsel of bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on--since you have come to your servant.” So they said, “Do as you have said.” 

And Abraham went quickly into the tent to Sarah and said, “Quick! Three seahs of fine flour! Knead it, and make cakes.” 

And Abraham ran to the herd and took a calf, tender and good, and gave it to a young man, who prepared it quickly. Then he took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them. And he stood by them under the tree while they ate. 

Henri Nouwen comments:

How can we live in the midst of a world marked by fear, hatred and violence, and not be destroyed by it? When Jesus prays to his Father for his disciples he responds to this question by saying, “I am not asking you to remove them form the world but to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world.” 

To live in the world without belonging to the world summarizes the essence of the spiritual life. The spiritual life keeps us aware that our true house is not the house of fear, in which the powers of hatred and violence rule, but the house of love, where God resides. 

Hardly a day passes in our lives without our experience of inner or outer fears, anxieties, apprehensions and preoccupations. These dark powers have pervaded every part of our world to such a degree that we can never fully escape them. Still it is possible not to belong to these powers, not to build our dwelling place among them, but to choose the house of love as our home. This choice is made not just once and for all but by living a spiritual life, praying at all times and thus breathing God’s breath. Through the spiritual life we gradually move from the house of fear to the house of love. 

I have never seen the house of love more beautifully expressed than in the icon of the Holy Trinity, painted by Andrew Rublev in 1425 in memory of the great Russian saint, Sergius (1313-1392). For me the contemplation of this icon has increasingly become a way to enter more deeply into the mystery of divine life while remaining fully engaged in the struggles of our hate-and-fear filled world. 

. . . During a hard period of my life in which verbal prayer had become nearly impossible and during which mental and emotional fatigue had made me the easy victim of feelings of despair and fear, a long and quiet presence to this icon became the beginning of my healing. As I sat for long hours in front of Rublev’s Trinity, I noticed how gradually my gaze became prayer. This silent prayer slowly made my inner restlessness melt away and lifted me up into the circle of love, a circle that could not be broken by the powers of the world. Even as I moved away from the icon and became involved in the many tasks of everyday life, I felt as if I did not have to leave the holy place I had found and could dwell there whatever I did or wherever I went. I knew that the house of love I had entered has not boundaries and embraces everyone who wants to dwell there. 

Through the contemplation of this icon we come to see with our inner eyes that all engagements in this world can bear fruit only when they take place within this divine circle. The words of the psalm, “The sparrow has found its home at last . . . Happy those who live in your house” are given new depth and new breadth; they become words revealing the possibility of being in the world without being of it. . . . 

Andrei Rublev painted this icon not only to share the fruits of his own meditation on the mystery of the Holy Trinity but also to offer his fellow monks a way to keep their hearts centered on God while living in the midst of political unrest. The more we look at this holy image with the eyes of faith, the more we come to realize that is painted not as a lovely decoration for a convent church, nor as a helpful explanation of a difficult doctrine, but as a holy place to enter and stay within. As we place ourselves in front of the icon in prayer, we come to experience a gentle invitation to participate in an intimate table conversation that is taking place between the three divine angels and to join them at the table. The movement from the Father toward the Son and the movement of both Son and Spirit toward the Father become a movement in which the one who prays is lifted up and held secure. Through the contemplation of this icon we come to see with our own inner eyes that all the engagements in this world can bear fruit only when they take place within the divine circle. We can be involved in struggles for justice and actions for peace. We can be part of the ambiguities of family and community life. We can study, teach, write, and hold a regular job. We can do all of this without ever having to leave the house of love . . . Rublev’s icon gives us a glimpse of the house of perfect love.

From: Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons

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Further information about the Rublev Icon:

St Andrew Rublev wrote this Icon either in 1411 or the period 1425 to 1427. It is 142 cm × 114 cm (56 in × 45 in), and can be viewed in the Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow 

There was no fixed form for the Trinity at the time of Rublev in the 15th century. This left painters freedom in their interpretation. He was aware of the transition from Christ centered icons of the Trinity toward a more theologically correct trinitarian view.

St Andrew introduced definite changes to the pattern that immediately preceded him. The central angel no longer looks at the beholder but at an angle to the left. The angel on the left and the right cross each other so the center of gravity moves from the central angel to one on the left. The angels are of equal size. He give the central angel clothing characteristic of Christ and makes the clothing of the other two unique. The hand are no longer pointing to objects on the table which is smaller and there is now room only for a chalice in its middle containing the sacrificial lamb. Their gestures do not relate to food as in earlier icons but to one another. They represent three separate distinct persons who in intimate relation with each other.

The angel on the left is clothed in a pale pink cloak with brown and blue-green highlights. The one in the center is clothed in the customary colors of Christ. A dark red robe and blue cloak. The one on the right has a green cloak. The clear and precise colors of the central angel are contrasted with the soft hues of the other two. The colors seem to blend and harmonise unifying the three figures giving them a tranquil joyfulness. Just as in so many other icons, gold indicates the value of the image and draws us into the Kingdom of Heaven. It is as if the entire scene were suffused with light. Fitting because of the subject – no less than God himself – the same God who dwells in light unapproachable, the same God who dwells in the Kingdom of Heaven.

The table no longer looks like a dinning table but is a cube clearly recognizable as an altar with an opening for the relics. The hosts Abraham and Sarah are no longer in the picture.

He uses the biblical background but relates it to the three figures. The angel on the left is coordinated with the house, the one in the middle with a tree and the one on the right with a rock. These relationships become symbolic.

The Father

Over the head of the Father who is on the left is the house of the Father. It is the goal of our journey. It is the beginning and end of our lives. Its roof is golden. Its door is always open for the traveler. It has a tower, and its window is always open so that the Father can incessantly scan the roads for a glimpse of a returning prodigal.

He is vested in a blue undergarment which depicts his divine celestial nature. His fatherly authority is seen in his entire appearance. His head is not bowed and he is looking at the other two angels. His whole demeanor - the expression on his face, the placement of his hands, the way he is sitting - all speaks of his fatherly dignity.

The Son

Behind the center angle who symbolizes Christ is a great tree that spreads its shade in heat of the day. It is no ordinary tree. It stands above the Son in the picture, and stands above the altar-table where the lamb lies within the chalice. Because of the sacrifice this tree grows. The tree of death has been transformed into a tree of life for us.

The Son has the deepest colors; a thick heavy garment of the reddish-brown of blood earth and a cloak of the blue of heaven. In his person he unites heaven and earth, the two natures are present in him, and over his right shoulder (the Government shall be upon his shoulder) there is a band of gold shot through the earthly garment, as his divinity suffuses and transfigures his earthly being. He is inclined towards the first angel, as though deep in conversation.

The Spirit

The angel on the right symbolizes the Holy Spirit. His green mantle of the Spirit, scintillating with light, is another of Rublev’s achievements. Green belongs to the Spirit because the Spirit is the source of life. On the Feast of Pentecost, Eastern Orthodox churches are decorated with greenery, boughs and branches, and worshippers will wear green clothing. The Orthodox prayer to the Holy Spirit begins, “O Heavenly King, Comforter, the Spirit of Truth, Who art everywhere present and fillest all things, Treasury of blessings and Giver of Life…”

This sense of the Spirit as the source of life, everywhere present, filling all things, contributes to one of the distinct feaatures of Orthodox theology. That is, it is intimately bound up with daily life. There is no such thing as theology which is purely intellectual. If theology doesn’t change you, if it doesn’t flood you with light, it’s not worth your time

This icon is appreciated for its simplicity. St Andrew was successful at advancing the iconographic tradition of the Church adding depth and bringing greater clarity to a doctrine that is forever mystically clothed.

- From the website of St George’s Greek Orthodox Cathedral, Greenville SC, USA

Jesus, YHWH and Abraham

I love the Gospel for today . . . “Jesus said, 'Before Abraham was I am'” (John 8:58).

In an aricle on his blog, Multiculturalism, Religious Pluralism and The Uniqueness of Christ, scholar and retired Australian Anglican Bishop, Paul Barnett, makes some comments regarding these words. Actually, it is refreshing to read what he says in an era when even in certain evangelical circles it has become trendy so to overstate the difference between the supposed “low” Christology of the Synoptic gospels and the “high” Christology of the Fourth Gospel, as to deny that the “historical Jesus” would even have had the kind of exchange with the Jewish leaders that culminated in “Before Abraham was I am” (John 8:56). Paul Barnett writes:

The proposition of the uniqueness of Christ begins with the uniqueness of Yahweh, the covenant God of Israel. According to the Shema, God said “Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength”(Deuteronomy 6:4).

Yahweh had revealed himself to the people he chose in word and saving act and he was jealous for his name, forbidding the worship of other or alternative deities. That he is “one” is not a statement of arithmetic relating to an indivisible monotheism. Rather, it asserts that he is “one” in the sense that he is incomparably, incontestably unique. This is the teaching of the Law and the Prophets.

The prophet Isaiah makes a number of “I am” statements on behalf of Yahweh, for example, “I am the Lord, and there is no other”(Isaiah 45:5). Jesus, too, makes “I am” statements, apart from “I am the bread . . .” etc. It has been long-recognised that Jesus’ absolute ego| eimi statements in John relate in some way to Yahweh’s words jani hu / “I am” quoted  in Isaiah (See D.M. Ball, My Lord and My God: The Implications of the ‘I Am’ Sayings for Religious Pluralism, in One God One Lord ed. A.D. Clarke and B.W. Winter (Cambridge: Tyndale, 1991), pp. 53-71.) For example: 

"I am he who bears witness concerning myself" (John 8:18).

"Unless you believe that I am, you shall die in your sins" (John 8:24).

"When you have lifted up the Son of man, then you shall know that I am" (John 8:28).

"Before Abraham was I am" (John 8:58).

In LXX Isaiah 43:10 Yahweh said, "I am (ego| eimi) a witness, says the Lord your God . . . that you may know and believe and understand that I am (ego| eimi)."

The author of this gospel is presenting Jesus as making claims “as if” Yahweh the God of Israel. The question must be asked, why would this author have so presented Christ if this was not true historically of Jesus’ own attitudes and teachings? The question is especially pointed when New Testament writers across the board present Jesus in this way (see e.g., “Many will come in my name saying, ego| eimi ”- Mark 13:6).

If you want to read an address Paul Barnett gave to last year’s Mere Anglicanism Conference at Charleston SC, in which as an historian he shares his confidence in the New Testament documents, go HERE. 

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Regular readers of this blog will remember Father Stephen Freeman, Rector of St Anne Orthodox Church in Oak Ridge, Tennessee (Orthodox Church of America). HERE, from a different angle, is a reflection touching on the same passage: 

As Christ walked in the midst of the people of Israel an event that was far more than historical took place. The One who was in the midst of them is also the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Strange paradox that you should meet and encounter a person who is Himself the beginning and the ending of all things. This paradox has led to many of the more profound insights of the Christian faith.

St. Maximus, reflecting on this, said that “the Incarnation of Christ is the cause of all things,” thus paradoxically placing the cause not “before everything” but in their midst, for the one who was in their midst was “before all things.”

Christ Himself would utter strange paradoxes that were completely true though opaque to his listeners: “Before Abraham was I am.” (John 8:58)

This aspect of who Christ is lies very much at the heart of much Orthodox understanding. Thus we understand that when we gather together for the Divine Liturgy, it is “heaven on earth.” It is not a change of locations of which the Church speaks, but a change in the nature of the location in which we gather – for as we gather “two or three,” “there am I in the midst of them.” And so our remembrance uttered in that service transcends the bounds of time:

Remembering this saving commandment and all those things which came to pass for us: the cross, the grave, the resurrection on the third day, the ascension into heaven, the sitting down at the right hand, the second and glorious coming again . . .

The language of the service has us speak even of the second coming in the past tense – not because we believe this is an event which has preceded us historically, but because in the presence of the Risen Christ, we stand at the end of things as well as their beginning. The Lord of time and space is not bound by his creation but raises His creation “into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.”

It is this reality that is also proclaimed by the holy icons. They are not placed in the Church as though they were a photograph album of heroes now long dead. They are instead the “great cloud of witnesses” made present to us in the image, not as wood and paint, but hypostatically (i.e. personally). Thus icons are described as “eschatological” images – images that are painted according to the end of all things and not according to the historical record. The language of inverse perspective becomes the grammar of the age to come in the icons of the Church – pointing us not to what has come and gone, but to what is coming and now is.

And the whole congregation is invited into this new existence. Baptized into the death of Christ and raised in the likeness of His resurrection (Romans 6:3-6). It governs our actions. Being dead to this world, we forgive the things of this world (“by his resurrection” we sing at Pascha). A life lived in forgiveness toward enemies and love for all is a life that is lived in confidence that all has turned out as it is promised by Christ. Christ defines history and gives it its meaning in His death and resurrection. His sentence of forgiveness, spoken from the Cross, is nothing less than the justice of God echoing across our world. For there can be no other justice than His freely offered forgiveness. Such light may be unbearable to some, particularly if they were counting on God to smash their enemies for them.

It is to such an Alpha and Omega, such a fount of forgiveness, such a liberty of resurrection, that we are invited to draw near as the Holy Cup of the Body and Blood of God is brought forth to us. God help me to forgive all by the resurrection and to stand before the cup of the New Covenant – and in everything to remember where I am and when I am.

For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers entreat that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks more graciously than the blood of Abel (Hebrews 12:18-24).

Links to Alice Linsley's series "Answers to High Schoolers' Questions About Genesis"

Nearly four years ago I wrote about Dr Alice Linsley and her amazing biblical-anthropolical research. The post is HERE. Alice continues to inform and surprise on her blog “Just Genesis”. Following are links to her series “Answers to High Schoolers’ Questions About Genesis”:

Part 1: About God

Part 2: About Adam and Eve

Part 3: About the Serpent

Part 4: About the Flood

Part 5: About the Earth

Part 6: “Why Abraham?”

Part 7: About Race, Human Populations, and the Purpose of Mankind

Where is the lamb?

"Abraham's Offering" by Jan Lievens (Dutch painter, 1607-1674), 

Herzog Anton-Ulrich Museum, Germany. 

Here is an analysis of today's first reading at Mass. It is by the Roman Catholic Biblical scholar Dr Michael Barber. (Go HERE to his valuable website). Dr Barber reminds us that as Christians, following the example of the early Fathers (and the New Testament itself), we read the Old Testament as pointing towards Christ. 

ABRAHAM OFFERS ISAAC 

Once Abraham's son Ishmael is banished he is left with his only beloved son Isaac. God now puts Abraham to the ultimate test, asking him to sacrifice his long awaited son on the mountain range known as Mt. Moriah (Gen. 22:1-2). Abraham obeys and sets off with Isaac on the three-day journey to the appointed place (Gen. 22:3-4). Once they get there, Isaac carries the wood of the sacrifice up the hill (Gen. 22:6). Isaac asks his father, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” (Gen. 22:7). Abraham responds, “God will provide Himself the Lamb” (Gen. 22:8). But just as Abraham is about to plunge the knife into his son, the Lord spares Isaac, and makes a covenant with him, swearing to bless all the nations through his descendants (Gen. 22:11-12, 15-18). Abraham spots a ram and offers it to the Lord (Gen. 22:13-14). 

In Abraham the curse of the fall is partially reversed. Because of his disobedience, Adam triggered the covenant curses. Yet, through Abraham’s faithfulness God promises to bless all peoples. 

THE BINDING OF ISAAC 

The ancient Rabbis called this story the Aqedah – the “binding” of Isaac. They explained that this story is just as much about Isaac’s self-offering as it is about Abraham’s faithfulness. They pointed out that Isaac was strong enough to carry the wood up the mountain (Gen. 22:6). They concluded that he was a grown youth, easily capable of overcoming his decrepit father. Therefore, Jewish tradition explained that Isaac asked to be “bound” so that he would not be able to struggle against his father and crawl off the altar.

MOUNT MORIAH

The temple of Jerusalem was later built on Moriah (2 Chron. 3:1). There the people of Israel offered their sacrifices, in effect, reminding God of his promise to Abraham. The need for these sacrifices ends once Christ comes as the true Lamb of God – “God will provide Himself the Lamb” (Gen. 22:8). 

THE ONLY BELOVED SON OF THE FATHER 

The early Church fathers understood this story as a foreshadowing of the sacrifice of the true only beloved Son of the Father. In fact, in the Church’s liturgy the story of Genesis 22 is read in connection with Jesus’ transfiguration. There the apostles hear God the Father say, “This is my beloved Son” (Mk. 9:7). This evokes God’s word to Abraham, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love…” (Gen. 22:2). Like Isaac, Jesus is the only beloved Son of the Father, who is sacrificed for the salvation of the world (cf. John 3:16). 

Jesus offers himself to the Father in Jerusalem, where Abraham offered Isaac. Also, like Isaac, Jesus carries the wood up the mountain, fully submitting to the Father’s will (cf. Gen. 22:6; Lk. 23:26). Finally, Jesus rises from the dead on the third day, just as Abraham received his son back from the sentence of death on the third day (cf. Gen. 22:4; 1 Cor. 15:4). In fact, Hebrews 11:19 tells us that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his son because he “considered that God was able to raise men even from the dead.” 

When Abraham offered Isaac, the Lord promised to bless all the nations. Little did he know that he was foreshadowing the way God would bring about that blessing. In Christ, Abraham’s words came true: “The Lord will provide himself the lamb.”

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