THE TRINITY: AN EVANGELICAL RELATIONAL PROPOSAL

Thomas H. McCall

I. INTRODUCTION

Orthodox Christians everywhere affirm the doctrine of the Trinity; there is one God, and there are three divine persons. But sometimes they disagree about some of the higher-resolution details. In this essay, I shall argue that the divine persons of the Trinity are really and robustly distinct, that they are fully and thus equally divine, and that there is exactly one God.

II. TRINITARIAN METHODOLOGY

But first things first: I should lay my methodological cards on the table. While I cannot offer anything approaching a rigorous argument for any particular theological method, I can make my commitments explicit.

I believe that Scripture is finally and supremely authoritative in theology. If we know anything about God and God's works, it is only because God reveals to us something of himself and his ways. I take the Bible to be the inspired and authoritative witness to the self-revelation of God that culminates in Christ (indeed, the Bible is revelation).1 As such, it is the "norming norm" (norma normans) that is authoritative above any other sources of authority and thus able to guide and correct our theological endeavors. It is, in the words of Oliver Crisp, the "final arbiter of matters theological for Christians as the particular place in which God reveals himself to his people," it is the "first order authority in all matters of Christian doctrine."2

Scripture is never interpreted in a vacuum, however, and the Christian tradition is indispensable in good interpretation of divine revelation. As I see things, theological proposals should be in alignment with the major ecumenical creeds. This definitively rules out any views deemed heretical, thus all forms of modalism, Arianism and other versions of subordinationism are to be avoided as well as all forms of tritheism. These creeds are a doctrinal authority as a "norm" that is "normed" (norma normata) by the Holy Scripture from which they derive authority. The confessions of particular ecclesial bodies are a third tier of authority (standing under the creeds and ultimately under Holy Scripture). Beyond this, the work of the great theologians of the church catholic deserves our deep respect (while not being binding in the same way as creedal statements).

Here it is very important for systematic theologians to listen carefully to the work of specialists in historical theology. While I do not believe that a constructive or systematic theologian earns a license to appeal to some figure from the tradition only when she is actively adding to the scholarly literature on that figure, neither is the responsible theologian at liberty merely to troll through the waters of Christian history hoping to net various quotations that can then be pressed into service. A better way forward, it seems, is for the theologian who hopes to appeal to the tradition to engage not only the relevant texts themselves (in translation where available but also, where appropriate, in the language in which the texts were originally composed) but also the pertinent scholarship. When dealing with the doctrine of the Trinity, it is especially important to recognize that there is a both a stable core of Trinitarian orthodoxy as well as some remarkable differences.3 This core can be found in the ecumenical creeds, while the divergent perspectives can be seen not only in such obvious cases as the split between East and West over the filioque but also within, say, late medieval Latin formulations of the doctrine or the best definition for "person" in medieval Trinitarian theology.4 And at any rate, my goal is consistency with orthodoxy – not mere repetition (of some particular theologian or school of thought).

Engagement with the Christian tradition reminds us that the use of reason is unavoidable in theology, and it also illustrates for us the reality that religious experience is a key element of theological construction. It is at this point that the tools of "analytic theology" are especially helpful. As I have argued elsewhere, use of the analytic tools does not entail commitment to a univocal view of religious language; to the contrary, the vast majority (perhaps all) of our language for God is analogical at best.5 Nor does use of analytic theology imply that philosophical issues are the only ones that matter. To the contrary: theological desiderata first, metaphysical "fit" second.

III. TRINITARIAN DOCTRINE

A. Some Important Affirmations: An Initial Statement

Working from these theological sources, I am convinced that the doctrine of the Trinity has been divinely revealed and is true. Although the doctrine is nowhere formally stated in Scripture (it isn't as though the Niceno-Constantinopolitan formula is embedded in some secret code in the text of the Bible), Scripture witnesses in multiple ways both to the personal distinctions and to the full divinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When this witness is seen in light of the unwavering biblical commitment to monotheism, the creedal statements of the doctrine of the Trinity emerge. As David Yeago puts it, "the ancient theologians were right to hold that the Nicene homoousion is neither imposed on the New Testament texts, nor distantly deduced from the texts, but rather, describes a pattern of judgments present in the texts, in the texture of scriptural discourse concerning Jesus and the God of Israel."6 Or as C. Kavin Rowe concludes, there is an "exegetical necessity" to the doctrine of the Trinity, because "there is an organic connection between the biblical testimony and the early creeds, and the creeds can serve as hermeneutical guidelines to reading the bible because it is in fact the biblical text itself that necessitated the credal formulations."7

To summarize, I believe that divine revelation reveals that there is exactly one God who exists necessarily and who exists necessarily as Triune: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are three fully divine persons who live in a perichoretic communion of holy love.	By "fully divine" I mean that the divine persons are homoousios; each divine person has the complete divine essence and enjoys ontological equality with the other divine persons. By "divine persons" I mean necessarily existent entities who enjoy "I-Thou" relationships within the Triune life. By "one God" I intend a wholehearted commitment to monotheism: there is exactly one God, and this one God exists as three persons. But I am aware that Christians sometimes disagree about exactly what this means, so let me be more specific. In what follows I focus primarily on issues related to divine personhood (the "threeness issue") and issues related to monotheism (the "oneness issue").

B. The Divine Persons are Really Distinct

I understand the divine persons to be "persons" in a full and robust sense of the term. The divine persons are fully personal in the sense that they exist together as what may be called distinct speech-agents in what are sometimes referred to as "I-Thou relationships," and they exist only within their mutual relationships. Peter van Inwagen puts it well when he points out that "Persons are those things to which personal pronouns are applicable: a person can use the word "I" and be addressed as "thou."8 So even though there are important differences between divine and human personhood, I will argue that we should conclude that there are genuine inter-
personal, "I-Thou" relationships within the Triune life.

Some critics may worry that this just seems too anthropomorphic – is this not simply another instance of using a human term, one loaded up with a distinctly modern understanding, and using it uncritically and univocally of God? I think that these critics raise some legitimate worries, for surely it is all too easy to assume that we already "know" what "persons" are – and then conclude that the divine persons must fit our preconceptions and be just like human persons. While I cannot see how any presumptions of univocity are actually entailed here (for the record, I don't think that the term "person" should be used univocally of divine and human persons), or that problematic anthropomorphism is inevitable, the worry raises some important warnings. So we must do our best to proceed with a properly biblical and theological understanding of the divine persons. In other words, we should, then, let divine revelation shape (and perhaps re-
shape) our understanding of divine personhood.

So what do we find when we look to the New Testament portrayals of the divine persons? We see the divine persons depicted in "I-Thou" relationships with one another (as well as with created agents).9 Although a full consideration of the biblical witness to this is beyond the scope of this essay (and would be pedantic and unnecessary at any rate), consider as examples these accounts of the relationship between the Father and the Son. The Gospels are replete with language reflecting robustly interpersonal relationships between Father and Son. Jesus's birth and childhood fulfill the prophecy of Hos 11:1: "out of Egypt I have called my Son" (Matt 2:15), and thus the earthly ministry of the incarnate Son begins with such a depiction. At Jesus's baptism, his Father refers to him as one who is clearly distinct: "this is my beloved Son" (Matt 3:17). Jesus refers to his relationship with his Father – his Abba – in the deepest relational terms (e.g., Matt 7:21; 10:32-33; 12:50; 18:10; 20:23; 25:34; 26:29-42; Mark 14:36). Jesus coordinates his work with that of his Father (e.g., John 5:17-18; 6:27-40), and the prayers of Jesus can only be understood as reflective of a deeply intimate "I-Thou" relationship. The voice of the Father thunders forth at the transfiguration of Jesus – "this is my Son, whom I love" (Mark 9:7). The life of the crucified Jesus ends with his cry to his Father (Luke 23:46), and his ascension is to his Father.

Or consider these depictions of the relationship between the Father and the Spirit. Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will come (John 14:16), and this is fulfilled as the "promise of the Father" (Luke 24:48-49) at Pentecost (Acts 1-2). Paul echoes these themes; he closely relates the Father and the Spirit but without confusing them (e.g., Rom 5:5; Rom 8:14-16; 1 Cor 2:4-5, 10-
14; 3:16; 6:19; 14:2; 2 Cor 5:5; Eph 6:17; 1 Thess 4:8).

The situation is similar with respect to the relationship of the Son and the Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the agent of the virginal conception of Jesus (Matt 1:18-20; Luke 1:35). The Spirit is present at the baptism of Jesus (Matt 3:17; Mark 1:9). Jesus is led into the wilderness, and then sustained, by the Spirit (Matt 4:1; Luke 4:1-14), and he teaches and ministers in the power of the Spirit (e.g., Luke 4:18; cf. Isaiah 61:1-2; 10:21-24; 11:13, 20; John 3:3-8; 7:37-39). He promises the Spirit will be another Paraclete (John 14:16), and he promises further that he will send the Spirit from the Father (John 15:26). Paul closely relates the Son and Holy Spirit as well (e.g., 2 Cor 3:17-18; Rom 8:2; 9:1; Gal 3:14; 5:5-6, 22-24; Eph 1:13-14; 3:5-6; 1 Pet 1:11), but never in such a way that they are confused.10

Such considerations provide straightforward biblical support for a robustly relational view of divine personhood. Perhaps a critic will object to the account just given on the ground that it is insufficiently christological. More precisely, the objector might claim that this data refers to the incarnate Son in relation to the other divine persons. She might say that such an account of robust distinction should be understood as referring to the will of the incarnate Son – when Jesus says "not my will but yours be done" (Luke 22:42), any distinction of will is to be attributed to the human will of Christ.

Perhaps we should interpret the Gethsemane prayer in just this way (it is a deeply traditional move, and I have no objection to doing so), I doubt very much that such a strategy can work with to undermine my case for robust personal distinction. There are at least three responses to the argument that the biblical accounts of personal relatedness (in the sense of "I-
Thou" relationships) refer only to the incarnate Son (and thus perhaps to the person of the Son qua human nature). First, it does nothing to account for the robustly personal distinction of the Father and the Holy Spirit. But as we have seen, the biblical account includes not only witness to the distinction of the Son from the Father, it also reveals the distinction of the Holy Spirit in relation to the Father and the Son. Of course, since the Holy Spirit is not incarnate, the distinction cannot be ascribed to the humanity of the Spirit. And it is the Father who refers to his "beloved Son." Second, while it is true that much of the biblical data refers to the economic Trinity, for this distinction to be real in the economy there must be robust distinction within the immanent Trinity.11 The Son became incarnate – the Logos became human – by humbling himself and taking upon himself the form of a servant (Phil 2:5-11; cf. John 1:1-18). Someone emptied himself and became incarnate, and this someone is the one who was already fully divine and with his Father. He did not become a distinct someone by becoming incarnate, he was already a "someone" who became incarnate. As Simon Gathercole observes, the Son "acts to take on human existence: though in the form of God, he empties himself to become a servant (v. 7)."12 Indeed, if we accept the traditional view of the personal preexistence of the Son (rather than the "ideal" preexistence popular among some modern biblical scholars), then this conclusion seems inevitable. Gathercole argues that the "I have come" sayings of Jesus in the synoptic gospels (typically understood to have a much "lower" Christology) "imply a very similar sequence."13

Finally, what we do know of the immanent Trinity from Scripture supports my claims. For instance, when Psalm 2:7 is interpreted traditionally (as a reference to the eternal generation of the Son and thus to the "immanent Trinity"), the use of personal indexicals clearly shows a robustly interpersonal relationship between the Father and Son: "You are my Son." Similarly, John's Prologue testifies to preexistence that is not only real (the Logos is both God and "with" God) but also personal – the preexistent Logos has an identity that is distinct, and it is distinct enough that the Logos and only the Logos "became flesh" (John 1:1, 14). In Jesus's famous prayer in John 17, he refers to the mutual glorification of the Father and Son that "I had with you before the world began" (John 17:5). What is this if not an "I-Thou" relation within the Trinity before (or sans) incarnation?

Critics may, however, yet complain that the picture just sketched reflects a naive and modern reading of Scripture; they may worry that it is not adequately engaged with the history of theological interpretation of Scripture. "Look," they may say, "you are uncritically importing a problematic modern notion of personhood into the interpretation of the Bible." So let us look at some important affirmations made by theologians from the broad Christian tradition. Let us begin with what is explicit and universal in the theology of pro-Nicene theologians. First, all theologians who are committed to (developing) orthodoxy agree that the divine persons are distinct in action in the economy of creation and redemption. This claim must not be misunderstood; I am not suggesting that we think of the divine persons as mere teammates or colleagues. Khaled Anatolios offers a helpful clarification of Gregory of Nyssa's understanding: "Human co-activity and divine co-activity are radically and structurally different. When human beings cooperate, 'each one acts separately and by himself.'"14 Divine activity, on the other hand, "originates in the Father, proceeds through the Son, and is completed in the Holy Spirit" and is thus more deeply unified.15 Indeed, it is so unified that there is a sense in which it should be understood as one action. Nonetheless, there is an irreducible distinction in divine action as well, since "the notion of an altogether undifferentiated agency in which each of the persons partakes in exactly the same manner is also implicitly but very clearly ruled out."16

The work of creation is thus typically said to be the work of the Triune God that reaches its terminus on the Father – and in this sense is said to be the special work of the Father. The Father sends the Son to be incarnate for the salvation of the world. The Father says – and only the Father says – "this is my beloved Son." The work of redemption and satisfaction is the work of the Triune God that reaches its terminus on the Son – and in this sense is the unique work of the Son. Only the Son becomes incarnate. Only the Son suffers under Pontius Pilate, is crucified, dead, and buried. Only the Son rises from death on the third day, and only the Son ascends to the right hand of the Father. Only the Holy Spirit is the agent of the virginal conception of Mary, only the Spirit descends in the form of a dove on the incarnate Son, and only the Spirit comes upon believers at Pentecost. Traditional Trinitarian theology has stoutly insisted that the works of the Triune persons are never divided; to the contrary, the works of the Trinity are "always undivided" (opera ad extra sunt indivisa). I fully agree with this traditional affirmation, but it need not – and it should not – be taken to imply that the agency of the divine persons in the economy is not genuinely distinct. To the contrary, we should agree with Maximus the Confessor that the Father and Holy Spirit "themselves did not become incarnate, but the Father approved and the Spirit cooperated when the Son himself effected his Incarnation."17 The orthodox Christian tradition has agreed upon these points universally and explicitly; indeed, they are woven into the fabric of the creeds themselves. Anything less was seen as a kind of modalism, and accordingly was labeled as heresy. One of the Trinity suffered in the flesh. The work of the Triune God "outside of God" is always undivided, and in such a way that the distinct divine persons operate distinctly in their relations to one another and to creation by the undivided divine power.

When we turn our attention to the "internal" works of God (the opera ad intra), however, the situation is very different. For the tradition, the works of the Triune God ad intra or "on the inside" of the Trinity are (or can be) uniquely and completely the work of a particular divine person. As an example, consider the venerable doctrine of the eternal generation of the Son. What we hear is a universal chorus:18 the Father generates the Son, and only the Father generates the Son. To be clear: while the tradition of classical orthodoxy affirms that the opera ad extra are "always undivided," it has no similar affirmation about the opera ad intra. In point of fact, it denies that generation is an act of the divine essence or of all three persons, and takes such a denial to be part and parcel of Christian orthodoxy.19 The person of the Father – and only the person of the Father – is rightly said to beget the Son.

So with respect to divine action in the economy, the works of the divine persons are always completely unified but nonetheless distinct in an important sense as well. Thus the Son becomes incarnate as he is sent by the Father and by the power of the Holy Spirit, but only the Son actually becomes incarnate. With respect to the works of the immanent Trinity, on the other hand, such works are uniquely and completely the work of one divine person. Thus the Father – and only the Father – generates the Son within the immanent Trinity. This much is explicit in the tradition of classical Christian orthodoxy, and it is universal within that tradition. What surely seems to be implied by what is explicit is this: the divine persons are distinct agents. If it is true that only the Son becomes incarnate, suffers, and dies under Pontius Pilate, then only the Son performs such actions and is the subject of these actions. Thus it seems undeniable that the Son is a distinct agent – indeed, anything else would seem to be close to heresy. As William Lane Craig says, "among the three persons of the Trinity there are three irreducible and exclusive first-
person perspectives. . . The Father knows, for example, that the Son dies on the cross, but He does not know and cannot know that He Himself dies on the cross – indeed, the view that He so knows even has the status of heresy: patripassianism."20 And if it is true that only the Father generates the Son, then it is obvious and even platitudinous that only the Father performs such an action. Thus it seems undeniable that the personal agency of the Father is distinct in an important sense.

To summarize the argument thus far, I have argued that the broad tradition of classical, catholic orthodoxy sees the actions of the divine persons in both the economy of salvation and in the immanent Trinity as distinct. This much is both explicit and universal. I have argued further that it is not unreasonable to take what is explicit and universal to suggest that the divine persons are distinct agents (who interact with one another and with their creation). At the very least, my proposal is consistent with these emphases that were vital to Christian orthodoxy.

Indeed, some major theologians are quite explicit. While it is abundantly clear that modern notions of "centers of consciousness" are not central to the traditional understandings of "person," a closer look makes it fairly obvious that not all elements of relational views of divine personhood are foreign or antithetical to the views of some major theologians.21 The theology of Gregory of Nyssa has been the hotbed of controversy here, and it serves well as a case study of sorts. Sarah Coakley argues that Gregory was not a "social Trinitarian," and she rightly notes that many claims made by Social Trinitarians about "the Cappadocians" (or, even worse, "the East") are unwarranted.22 But her own claims (of a single divine subject) run too far in the other direction. Michel R. Barnes has argued that "personal relationship and consciousness are not important, substantial psychological concepts for Gregory," and he doubts that Gregory thinks of the divine persons as possessing separate wills.23 But he argues that even though psychological notions are not central to Gregory, nonetheless Gregory "may indeed be said to have a psychology of the Individuals of the Trinity."24 More specifically, for Gregory "what is at stake is not simply the 'separate reality' of the Holy Spirit, but the Spirit's status as what we would call a 'person:' the Holy Spirit 'acts and says such and such things, and defines and is grieved and is angered.'"25 Therefore "there is reason to believe that he understood the need for stronger and clearer language on both the distinct and personal reality of the Spirit – language which made it clear that the Spirit like the Son was a psychological entity with a distinct existence."26 So on Barnes's reading, we should not import various modern notions of personhood (those derived from Descrates, Locke, and others) into the patristic doctrine of the Trinity – but neither should we conclude that Gregory (and others) held to a view of single subjectivity. Similarly, Khaled Anatolios says that the divine persons display "distinct inflections of the one divine will" in Gregory's thought.27 As he puts it, "while Gregory clarifies elsewhere that there is one movement of will that encompasses divine being, he is equally clear. . . that this one movement is appropriated by all three hypostaseis such that each becomes the subject of the divine will, agency, and power. This might not amount to 'modern conceptions of personhood,' but neither does it utterly exclude some of these conceptions."28

We could (if not constrained by space) examine further various other patristic, medieval, and Reformation/Post-Reformation accounts, where there is much that is consistent with what I have sketched here.29 Critics of the sort of robustly relational view that I am advocating will sometimes protest that the broad Christian tradition is a very long way from the "Social Trinitarianism" of Moltmann, Boff, and others. Such critics are undoubtedly correct in this assessment, and we are indebted to the historians of doctrine who continue to drive home this point.30 But it should be clear as well that a deeply relational account of divine personhood is far from antithetical to orthodox Trinitarian theology. On the contrary, such a relational view is consistent with orthodoxy. Does anyone in the tradition of orthodox Christian theology deny that the divine persons love one another? Karl Rahner is famous for his denial that the divine persons love one another: there is "properly no mutual love between the Father and Son, for this would presuppose two acts."31 But here – as elsewhere – Rahner stands outside the mainstream catholic tradition. Even Thomas Aquinas, whose theology is often taken to be the "high water mark" of Latin scholasticism, agrees that the divine persons love one another.32 "The Father and the Son love each other and love us by the Holy Spirit. . ."33 Granted that not all traditional theologians emphasize the mutual love of the divine persons as much as, say, Richard of St. Victor (following Augustine) or John Duns Scotus,34 do any major theologians actually deny it? Does anyone traditionally orthodox deny that only the Father generates the Son? Does anyone deny that only the Son became incarnate?

We should think this through carefully. If God is perfect in love (and if God's perfection is not compromised by dependence upon creation), then God must be loving within the Triune life or "on the inside." If the divine persons love one another, then they must be capable of doing so – that is, they must be relationally distinct enough to do so, and single-subject theology would seem to be ruled out. Consider further: if only the Father eternally generates the Son, and if we work from the assumption (one that should be safe) that the Father does so knowingly, then it is not a stretch to think that the Father knows that only he eternally generates the Son. After all, "actions, as Aquinas reminds us, only come from actors."35 Similarly, if only the Son becomes incarnate and suffers for us and our salvation, then the Son knows that only the Son becomes incarnate and suffers for us and our salvation (the Father, of course, also knows that only the Son becomes incarnate and suffers the passion). If so, then the doctrine of the Trinity should lead us to conclude that the divine persons are genuinely distinct, that they act (ad extra) in full concord, that they love another and that they know it.

In summary, we can see that core theological beliefs about the works of God (with respect both to the "economic" and "immanent" works) cohere well indeed with the robustly relational view of the divine persons that I have proposed. These core claims are grounded in Scripture, they are explicit and universal in the tradition of Christian orthodoxy, and they imply that the divine persons are distinct agents who are necessarily related in a perichoretic communion of holy love. I conclude that there is good reason to think that there are genuine and robust relationships between the truly distinct divine persons.

C. The Distinct Persons are Equally Divine

The divine persons are distinct from one another in their mutual relations, and they are also fully and equally divine. The Son and Spirit are not ontologically inferior to the Father; it is not as if the Father has A+ divinity while the Son and Spirit have A- divinity. After all, there is – for the monotheist – only one divinity, and one either is or is not divine.36 It is true that Scripture testifies to the subordination of the incarnate Son (e.g., John 14:28). But such testimony has been rightly understood by the broad Christian tradition as a reference to the Son as incarnate. Aquinas (explicitly following Augustine) says that "It is not without reason that Scripture mentions both, that the Son is equal to the Father and the Father is greater than the Son, for the first is said on account of the form of God, and the second is said on account of the form of a servant, without any confusion. Now the less is subject to the greater. Therefore in the form of a servant Christ is subject to the Father." He explains further that "we are not to understand that Christ is a creature simply (simpliciter), but only in his human nature. . . So also are we to understand that Christ is subject to the Father not simply (simpliciter) but in his human nature, [and] it is better to add this qualification in order to avoid the error of Arius, who held the Son to be less than the Father."37 This is exactly the right way to understand such texts, and there is no room in orthodox Christian theology for any view that would diminish the full and equal divinity of the Son and Holy Spirit with the Father.38

D. There is Only One God

So far I have argued for a robustly relational understanding of the divine persons. But what about monotheism? By my lights, commitment to monotheism is demanded by both Christian tradition and Christian Scripture.39 "Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God, the Lord is one" (Deut. 6:4). Despite the protestations of Jürgen Moltmann, monotheism simply is not optional for Trinitarians.40 At the same time, we should be careful to make sure that we understand just what is demanded by Scripture and the tradition of creedal orthodoxy. There is no good reason to think that the Shema demands a unipersonal deity; indeed, the very word used for "one" (echad) is one that allows for personal interrelationship.41 With respect to Scripture, the conclusion of Richard Bauckham is very helpful: "Jewish monotheism clearly distinguished the one God from all other reality, but the ways in which it distinguished the one God from all else did not prevent the early Christians including Jesus in this unique divine identity. While this was a radically novel development. . . the character of Jewish monotheism was such that this development did not require repudiation of the ways in which Jewish monotheism understood the uniqueness of God."42

But what about the broad Christian tradition? Does my proposal run afoul of creedal orthodoxy? I have sketched an account of divine personhood that is robustly relational: the divine hypostases are genuinely distinct, and they are related to one another in the inter-personal perichoresis of holy love. Does my position entail what Barth called the "worst and most extreme expression of tritheism?"43 Or is there a way to "cling to respectability as monotheists?"44 Many proponents of "Social Trinitarianism" insist that monotheism may be retained in two ways: the divine persons all share the same generic divine essence (they are all omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent, and whatever else is included in the divine essence), and they are cooperate together perfectly and therefore function as one. Thus Cornelius Plantinga, Jr.:

the Holy Trinity is a divine, transcendent society or community of three fully personal and fully divine entities: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit or Paraclete. These three are wonderfully united by their common divinity, that is, by the possession of the whole generic divine essence. . . the persons are also unified by their joint redemptive purpose, revelation, and work. Their knowledge and love are directed not only to their creatures, but also primordially and archetypally to each other. The Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father. . . the Trinity is thus a zestful community of divine light, love, joy, mutuality, and verve.45

I agree with Plantinga that the divine persons are three fully personal and fully divine entities who know and love one another. I also agree with him that the divine persons share the divine essence; they are homoousios, and (going beyond Plantinga) they can even be said to share one divine "power pack."46 I agree as well that the divine persons are fully unified in purpose and work – indeed, their agreement is so strong (even necessarily so) that we should affirm that there is one divine will.

But can we say more, can we affirm more than merely generic or cooperative oneness? I believe that we can, and indeed that we should do so. Recent work in analytic theology has done much to clarify matters here, and there are (at least) two routes that are open to the relational Trinitarian at this point. The tradition of Trinitarian orthodoxy has, by my lights, basically affirmed numerical (rather than merely generic) sameness – but, in contrast to some modern theology, it has done so without losing the distinct identity of the divine persons. As we have seen, the traditional claim is that there is only one God: the Father is God, the Son is God, and that Holy Spirit is God. But how are we to understand the is, and how might we do so in a way while maintaining numerical sameness without identity? One option is to "relativize" identity claims. The most promising of such proposals follows a once-popular medieval strategy.47 It is sometimes called "Constitution Trinitarianism" (because of its employment of the analogy of material constitution). Jeffrey Brower and Michael Rea set the bar high: any acceptable doctrine of the Trinity should be consistent with the view that the divine persons are distinct individuals (but not parts) and that there is exactly one divine individual (rather than a society), should not come into conflict with the teachings of Scripture and the ecumenical creeds, and carry no anti-
realist commitments in metaphysics (as with some versions of relative identity).48 They suggest that the familiar puzzles about material constitution are instructive here; the divine persons may be conceived on analogy with form-matter compounds (such as the genuine differences between lumps and statues). They reject the mere "is" of predication (as in Social Trinitarianism) for the "is" of numerical sameness, but they also reject the "is" of identity. Instead, they argue, what we have is "numerical sameness without identity" (where this is understood as essential sameness rather than merely accidental sameness) – and this is what is needed for Trinitarian orthodoxy. Thus we have numerical sameness – one God – but three persons who genuinely distinct rather than identical.

Alternatively, the relational Trinitarian might appeal to (a version of) the doctrine of divine simplicity for support here but follow suggestions from John Duns Scotus. On Scotus's account of divine simplicity, the formal distinction plays a large role.49 Earlier scholastic treatments of the doctrine of simplicity rejected real distinctions within the divine essence and allowed only for conceptual distinctions. Scotus, on the other hand, posits the formal distinction as something between merely conceptual distinctions and real distinctions. Real distinctions can be distinctions between different things of different essences, they can be distinctions between different things of the same (secondary or generic) essence, or they can be between different separable parts of the same thing. For Scotus, however, the formal distinction falls "between" real distinctions and conceptual distinctions, and it applies to entities that are both really inseparable (not, properly speaking, parts) and nonetheless genuinely distinct. Adopting the formal distinction, the Trinitarian might hold that the divine persons are genuinely distinct; the personal distinctions between them can never be reduced to mere conceptions and thus modalism is avoided.50 At the same time, however, the divine persons are really inseparable; their subsistence is (logically) possible only within their mutual relations. Thus polytheism is avoided.

Keith Yandell takes a route that is similar in some important respects.51 He argues that the Triune God indeed is complex (in one sense, although, as we shall see, simple in another important sense). In Yandell's precise sense of "complex," "X is complex if and only if there is a Y and a Z such that Y is not numerically identical to Z, it is logically impossible that Y exist and Z not exist, and Y and Z together are numerically identical to X in the sense of their together composing X."52 The Triune God is complex. But according to Yandell, this complex Triune God has no parts. For on his understanding of parts, "if Y is a part of X, then Y can exist whether X exists or not. Further, if Y and Z are parts of X, then Y can exist without Z existing and Z can exist without Y existing." Put a bit differently, "X is a part of Y if and only if X exists, Y exists, X plus something else is all of Y, X is not all of Y, and it is logically possible that X exist and Y not exist or Y exist and X not exist (or both)." Yandell then denies that the divine persons are divine parts: it is logically impossible that any of the divine persons exist without the others. So something is "simple(i)" if and only if it has no parts, and he affirms that this is necessarily true of the Trinity. God is simple in just this sense – God has no parts. Yandell contrasts this with what he terms "simple(ii)," which is the denial of any complexity. Not surprisingly, he affirms that the Triune God is necessarily simple(i) and necessarily not simple(ii).

So on this account of divine oneness, the doctrine of simplicity plays an important role: God is not composed of parts or pieces. At the same time, God is necessarily complex, for God is triune. The divine persons are "necessarily strongly internally related," and thus God is "necessarily particularly strongly internally complex." This yields the conclusion that there is exactly one triune God whose divine persons are necessarily related (thus not "parts" in any sense) in a perichoretic "relation of mutual profound love."

D. Summary: Relational and Classical Trinitarianism

These are some of the important features of a relational doctrine of the Trinity. As I understand the doctrine of the Trinity, the divine persons are internally and necessarily related within the communion of the divine life. Working from what we see of the actions of the "economic" Trinity, as well as drawing from the fascinating and precious glimpses of the immanent Trinity that we see in Scripture, we should conclude that the divine persons are distinct speech-agents who know, glorify, and love one another. Their work in creation and redemption is perfectly unified, and this unity of action (ad extra) reflects – but does not exhaust or even constitute – the deeper unity of the immanent Trinity. This deeper unity goes beyond the oneness of a shared generic divine essence or mere cooperation: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not three gods who are much alike or who get along well. Instead, they are exactly one God.

I have argued that such a relational formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity flows from the biblical account. I am convinced that it reflects the biblical portrayals of the divine persons, and I am just as convinced as well that it falls within the boundaries of biblical monotheism. Is it also consistent with the tradition of Trinitarian orthodoxy? The answer here should be positive. Surely it falls within the boundaries laid out by the major ecumenical creeds. It rejects both modalism as well as Arianism and other forms of subordinationism, and it avoids tritheism as well. Similarly, it is hard to see how it might violate many major Protestant confessions; for instance, the model I propose does not violate the Thirty-Nine Articles (much the same could, I think, be said for major Roman Catholic statements; since I do not rely upon merely generic accounts of divine oneness, my proposal does not run afoul of the statements produced at Lateran IV).53 While I readily admit that what I propose does not draw slavishly or even strictly from any single theologian or from any school of theology (in the sense of being distinctly "Thomist," "Scotist, "Barthian," etc.), various elements of what I suggest indeed can be found in the work of major theologians from within the tradition. For instance, while numerical sameness without identity clearly is the mainstream view of orthodox Trinitarianism, the same cannot be said of the "Constitution" strategy per se. At the same time, however, we should remember that no single strategy can claim anything like universal support.54 But the Constitution view does not trespass the boundaries of catholic orthodoxy, and it arguably has precursors within the tradition: Michael C. Rea argues that there are passages within the work of the Cappadocians that suggest this, Jeffrey E. Brower shows that Abelard held something like it, and J. T. Paasch mounts a strong case that many late medieval theologians follow Henry of Ghent in promoting just this view.55 Moreover, my proposal is consistent with the doctrine of divine simplicity.56 I conclude then, that the relational view that I have articulated flows from the biblical teaching, and it does so in a manner that is consistent with classical Christian orthodoxy.

IV. TRINITY AND CREATION: THE "RELEVANCE" OF THE DOCTRINE

Creation and redemption are, in Scripture, the work of the Triune God. Indeed, the early Christian theologians began to articulate the doctrine as reflection upon the saving work of God. So it should come as no surprise to us that the doctrines are closely related.

Christians should affirm divine aseity, and, because God is triune, they can do so while still maintaining that God is love (1 John 4:8, 16). Because the loving relationships between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are essential to the Triune life, there is no sense in which God can be said to "need" the world (to actualize himself, to display his glory, etc). This affirmation of Triune aseity renders otiose the kinds of theology that run downstream from Hegel – including not only process theology but also the versions that run through Moltmann and Barth.57 At the same time, however, we should see creation as the free expression of the holy love of the Triune God. Creation ex nihilo, when considered within a Trinitarian framework, is completely consistent with creation ex amore. As William Lane Craig reminds us, this is a "remarkable conclusion:" for "alone in the self-sufficiency of his own being, enjoying the timeless fullness of the intra-Trinitarian love relationships, God had no need for the creation of finite persons. . . He did this, not out of any deficit in Himself or His mode of existence, but in order that finite temporal creatures might come to share in the joy and blessedness of the inner life of God."58

So according to a biblically-grounded and properly Trinitarian doctrine of creation, human creatures are made to participate in the holy love of the divine life. We also find in Scripture that we have fallen into sin and stand in desperate need of redemption. And we find in Scripture the wonderful news that the Triune God has acted on our behalf. Indeed, as Fred Sanders says, "the gospel is Trinitarian, and the Trinity is the gospel."59 For just as we were created for nothing less than communion with the Triune God, so also are we saved for nothing less. The entire ordo (or via) salutis is Trinitarian: the Son becomes incarnate for us and our salvation as he is sent by the Father and empowered by the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit continues to work to transform God's children into the image of the only-begotten and to bring us home to the Father. The Son makes atonement for the sins of the world, and believers who are joined in union with Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit are then justified and counted righteous in God's sight. But more than our legal status is changed by the Trinity, for the same Spirit that unites us in justifying faith to the incarnate Son also truly sanctifies us as he transforms filthy and perverted rebels into saints of whom it can truly be said: "these are my beloved sons and daughters, in whom I am well pleased."60

So we should conclude that the doctrine of the Trinity is incredibly relevant for life today. God created us to share in the divine life of holy love, and he has redeemed us so that we might be rescued from our sin and come home to that life. Beyond such biblically-grounded (and historically affirmed) conclusions, however, we should exercise great care and caution in thinking about the "relevance" of the Trinity. The last few decades have witnessed an incredibly wide-ranging series of "Trinitarian" pronouncements on theological and socio-political issues – many of which are only loosely related to serious Trinitarian theology and some of which are actually contradictory. The flood of such competing pronouncements has led critics to call the entire enterprise of "Trinitarian ethics" into question.61 The dangers of projection loom large – indeed, some of these projects in Trinitarian theology must be judged as striking examples of Feuerbach's own exaggerated claims. The sad irony is that much theology of recent vintage has "explored" all manner of areas of "relevance" even as it has largely ignored the genuine relevance as it is taught in Scripture. My own advice is this: while we should not dismiss all such considerations out of hand, we should proceed with great caution as we work to distinguish genuine "implications" from spurious claims and as we seek to understand what Scripture might teach us about the very issues under consideration.

V. CONCLUSION

Sometimes it seems to me that the lines are sharply drawn in contemporary Trinitarian theology, and it sometimes seems to me that they are drawn in the wrong places. Some theologians, often following Moltmann's charge and waving the banner of "Social Trinitarianism," insist upon robust personal distinctions between the divine persons – but then go on to downplay, ignore, or flat-out deny an adequate account of divine oneness. Other theologians, now (rightly) critiquing the Social Trinitarianism of Moltmann, Boff, and others at various points, follow the lead of Barth and Rahner in insisting upon numerical sameness – but then go on to downplay, ignore, or flat-out deny robustly tri-personal agency and the mutual love of the divine persons for one another. Meanwhile, partisans from both camps of modern theology often identify the "immanent Trinity" with the "economic Trinity" in problematic ways.

This is unfortunate at several levels. Both sides are correct in what they affirm, and both are wrong in what they deny. The "Social Trinitarians" are right to recognize "I-Thou" relationships within God's own life, but they are wrong to deny a strong account of monotheism. The Barthian-Rahnerian counterattack is right (at least by traditional standards) to hold to numerical sameness, but such theologians are wrong to insist upon a single divine subjectivity. Neither side can fully claim to be "the" traditional view, and – more importantly – both sides fail to account for the full biblical teaching. I have argued for something different: I have made a case that the divine persons are genuinely and robustly distinct in their mutual relations, that they are each fully, completely, and equally divine, and that there is exactly one God. I am convinced that this doctrine is consistent with the commitments of catholic orthodoxy, and – even more importantly – it is grounded in Scripture. While I readily admit that there is much that is mysterious about the doctrine, I do not think that my account is incoherent. To the contrary, the doctrine of the Trinity is vitally important for helping us to understand divine intention and action in creation and salvation in a coherent way. And while we should be cautious about extravagant claims about the "relevance" of Trinitarian theology with respect to various issues, we should nonetheless be in a position to see that the doctrine of the Trinity "matters more than anything else in the world."62