Father, Son and Spirit
Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9; Dn 3:52, 53, 54, 55, 56; 2 Cor 13:11-13; Jn 3:16-18
Do you believe in God? Presumably, yes. But just exactly what God do you believe in? As Christians, we don’t have a generically named “God,” even though we usually use the word univocally: “I believe in God,” “God help us,” “God only knows,” etc.
That’s not wrong, but we have a much richer way of thinking and talking about “God.” We have a Trinity of Father, Son and Spirit.
But other than knowing this as a theological truth, and using it formulaically in prayers, I suspect we rarely distinguish among the three divine persons when we are simply thinking about God’s presence in our lives.
The exception is our frequent reference to Jesus, with whom we can identify so readily (that’s the whole point of the Incarnation!). But even then, are we really cognizant of “Jesus-who-is-neither-Father-nor-Son”? I suspect we are just thinking of Jesus, and his distinction from the Father and the Son is not particularly relevant then.
I want to acknowledge that some people will struggle with overly anthropomorphizing the words “Father” and “Son.” This can be particularly painful if our human relationships with family have been harmful, or in light of the discriminations leveled against women throughout history. It is beyond the scope of this column to address such issues, but it’s important to recognize them. Here, I will stick with the language of Scripture and our liturgy.
So does the profound theological truth of the Trinity make a practical difference in the Christian spiritual life? After all, we can be aware of a moving interior encounter with God without experiencing an explicit, direct connection with Father, Son or Spirit. Yet, if the Trinity is an accurate description of God’s divine nature, there must be value in acquiring a deeper appreciation for the difference that the trinitarian reality makes for us.
Reference to this Sunday’s reading can be helpful here. In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” Sound familiar? It’s almost identical to one of the options for the opening greeting that the priest offers at Mass.
Let’s begin with the “love of God.” When Paul writes “God,” he is referring to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob — the “Father” of the Trinity. To speak of the Father’s love is to acknowledge our identity as a beloved daughter or son.
In times of loneliness or desolation, we can appeal directly to the Father’s love, which is gratuitously offered as a source of affirmation and encouragement (cf. Jesus hearing “this is my beloved son” at the moment of his baptism). Even Jesus’ own love for us flows directly from the Father’s love for him (cf. Jn 15:9).
The “grace” of Jesus Christ is his gift to us of our salvation. Practically speaking, it is his self-sacrificial love, and his call that we love each other in the same way (cf. Jn 13:34). To acknowledge the Son, in prayer or thought, is to practice a love for others that is neither self-focused nor grasping.
The “fellowship” of the Holy Spirit is precisely the divine gift that enables us to come together in community as the Body of Christ. This is more than any purely human social structure. It animates our families, parishes and the wider world insofar as we intentionally pray for the grace to live with one another with generosity, compassion and forgiveness.
The next time you’re struggling with your neighbor, pray to the Holy Spirit.
Finally, we might note that St. Ignatius of Loyola encouraged his spiritual directees to end every prayer session by praying a “colloquy” to the Trinity. That simply entails saying a brief prayer explicitly to the Father, Son or Holy Spirit, regardless of whatever subject was addressed in the previous prayer time.
Praying the colloquy forces us to engage the rich potential that each divine person of the Trinity uniquely affords us, which can be overlooked when we simply pray to “God.”
Far from being a theological abstraction, the Trinity can be one of the most accessible realities in our everyday spiritual lives.