Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Entertaining the Trinity Unawares. (Part I)

Trinitarian theophanies are rare. In fact, my scripturally challenged brain can come up with only a handful of texts historically open to such interpretation -- the most significant being, of course, the various baptism scenes (Mk. 1:10/Mt. 3:16/Lk. 3:22/Jn. 1:32). Then there's the Isaianic Trishagion (Is. 6:3) -- complete with the question of whether the two cherubim may be interpreted as Son and Spirit. The Transfiguration accounts (Mk. 9:7/Mt. 17:5) are more binitarian, as far as I can discern, and the Genesis references to divinity in plurality ("Let us make ... humankind" -- thank you, genderinclusive NRSV! -- "in our image") not only lack reference to a tertium quid, but qualify only in the loosest, most literary sense as "theophanies". Bummer.

And then there's the Genesis 18 account of Abraham's three visitors at the Oaks of Mamre. A glance at the opening verses makes clear why this text became the darling of Trinitarian interprets everywhere:

"The LORD appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground. He said, “My lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant."

There's the emphasis on the divine appearance, the manifestation thereof in three visitors, and Abraham's address of them (him?) in the singular. Philo in his On Abraham deals with the passage on a figurative level as follows (... given the ungodly length of this quote, which would nevertheless be criminal to cut in any way, I'm highlighting the 10-cent-version those of us who lack time, interest, or an introduction to Philo's views on the Logos*.)

"The things which are expressed by the voice are the signs of those things which are conceived in the mind alone; when, therefore, the soul is shone upon by God as if at noonday, and when it is wholly and entirely filled with that light which is appreciable only by the intellect, and by being wholly surrounded with its brilliancy is free from all shade or darkness, it then perceives a threefold image of one subject, one image of the living God, and others of the other two, as if they were shadows irradiated by it. And some such thing as this happens to those who dwell in that light which is perceptible by the outward senses, for whether people are standing still or in motion, there is often a double shadow falling from them.

Let not any one then fancy that the word shadow is applied to God with perfect propriety. It is merely a catachrestical abuse of the name, by way of bringing before our eyes a more vivid representation of the matter intended to be intimated. Since this is not the actual truth, but in order that one may when speaking keep as close to the truth as possible, the one in the middle is the Father of the universe, who in the sacred scriptures is called by his proper name, I am that I am; and the beings on each side are those most ancient powers which are always close to the living God, one of which is called his creative power, and the other his royal power. And the creative power is God, for it is by this that he made and arranged the universe; and the royal power is the Lord, for it is fitting that the Creator should lord it over and govern the creature.

Therefore, the middle person of the three, being attended by each of his powers as by body-guards, presents to the mind, which is endowed with the faculty of sight, a vision at one time of one being, and at another time of three; of one when the soul being completely purified, and having surmounted not only the multitudes of numbers, but also the number two, which is the neighbour of the unit, hastens onward to that idea which is devoid of all mixture, free from all combination, and by itself in need of nothing else whatever; and of three, when, not being as yet made perfect as to the important virtues, it is still seeking for initiation in those of less consequence, and is not able to attain to a comprehension of the living God by its own unassisted faculties without the aid of something else, but can only do so by judging of his deeds, whether as creator or as governor.

This then, as they say, is the second best thing; and it no less partakes in the opinion which is dear to and devoted to God. But the firstmentioned disposition has no such share, but is itself the very God-loving and God-beloved opinion itself, or rather it is truth which is older than opinion, and more valuable than any seeming."


What's interesting about Philo's account is that it is actually more "Trinitarian" than early Christian readings of the text in question. Justin Martyr in his second-century Dialogue with Trypho thus agrees with Philo that the central figure is God -- albeit not merely figuratively, as Philo suggests, but actually and quasi-incarnationally -- but sees the two "extraneous" figures as mere angels, ontologically not merely inferior (pace Philo) but different animals entirely:

"Moses, the blessed and faithful servant of God, declares that the one who appeared to Abraham under the oak in Mamre is God, sent with the two angels in his company to judge Sodom, by another, who dwells eternally in the heavenly places, invisible to all and engaging in converse with none; the one whom we believe to be the Maker and Father of all things." (Dialogue 56)

For Justin, of course, the central figure is not merely God, but the Logos -- Christ -- who functions as the Father's revelatory agent in the divine economy. While this Logos is indeed God, however, Justin, like his contemporaries, readily subordinates the Son to the Father:

"Therefore neither Abraham nor Isaac nor Jacob nor anyone else saw the Father and ineffable Lord of all (even of Christ); rather did they see the one who was according to his will his Son, being God and the Angel, because he ministered to his will." (Dialogue 127)

A couple of centuries later, Justin's vision will be picked up by Hilary of Poitiers, who argues similarly that the "Trinity" encountered by Abraham at Mamre is composed of God/Christ and two angels. The latter two, in an ingenious (... and, as far as I can tell, original to Hilary ...) move are said to go on towards Sodom to meet with Lot while God/Christ remains behind to converse with Abraham.

For Hilary, however, the designation of the revelatory-Logos as God suggests that there is equality between Father and Son: The Logos whom Abraham encounters speaks for God and has power to bring about what is promised, including Sarah's pregnancy and the resultant mutiplication of Abraham's progeny and the destruction of Sodom. At work here, Hilary argues, is more than a unity of wills or even a unity of works, but a unity of powers and thus of nature:

"Scripture makes no distinction, by difference of name, between Their natures, but discriminates between Themselves. For we read in the Gospel "The Father judgeth no man, but hath given all judgment ot the Son. Thus what the Lord gave, the Lord had received from the Lord." (On the Trinity IV.29)

Of course, to the casual reader of Patristic sources, Hilary's interpretation -- and, by extension, Justin's -- sound patently wrong. We "know," after all, that the Fathers, especially the heavily pro-Nicene ones like Hilary, read this passages in Trinitarian terms ... not simply as Christological revelations. That interpretation has its hayday in Augustine -- or at least: in some of Augustine -- as well as in an incipient form in Origen. What these two, plus, perhaps, Ephrem and Caesarius of Arles are doing with the text is, however, a subject more appropriately reserved for a future entry.

* For the Patristically disposed, Rowan Williams' offers a nice, quick'n'dirty intro to Philo's Logos in Arius: Heresy and Tradition (... which, really, everyone should be reading regardless.)

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