In John Green’s book Turtles All the Way Down, the main character wrestles with the idea of existence. A friend tells her about a lecture by philosopher Bertrand Russell. The lecture about astronomy was refuted by an audience member, saying, “The earth was not situated in space, but rather it was sitting on the back of a giant turtle.” Russell asked what the turtle was standing on. The audience member proclaimed, “On the back of another giant turtle. It’s turtles all the way down.”1 Perichoresis is a theological concept that describes how the three Persons of the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) live in each other and share their lives with each other. It talks about how the three distinct persons of the Godhead share a common divine nature and exist in each other without losing their own identities. This is often called a “divine dance” of love. I appreciate that this perichoretic shape of trinitarian theology carries through into so many other areas of theology. Perichoresis provokes powerful imagery. Father Richard Rohr describes perichoresis as a divine dance.2 Perichoresis defines the shape of every system of theology.
The unity and mutuality of the triune God invite us into a relationship with God and others. As a result, the mutuality of God, myself, and my Christian siblings mirrors the dance of God in our understanding of Ekklesia and Koinonia. Moltmann puts it this way: “The unity of the disciples for which Jesus prays corresponds to the mutual indwelling of the Father in the Son and the Son in the Father. Their unity is based neither on the monarchy of the Father nor in the example of the Son, but on the mutuality of their indwelling—the trinitarian perichoresis.”4 The life of the Trinity is an eternal and mutual kenosis.
This perichoretic divine dance further extends to express the work of salvation. In our salvation, we are being included in the life of God. According to Moltmann, “Because the salvation of the creatures exists in their being included in the eternal life of the triune God and in participating in it, we understand the unity of the triune God as an open, inviting, uniting, and integrating community (John 17:21 “[that] they also be in us”).” This being included in the life of God becomes a sort of mutual indwelling that leads to a perichoretic unity with God.
The Eucharist is a physical representation of this perichoretic unity. Copeland says it this way, “Eucharist is that inalienable gift that anchors believers in time, connects them one to another as well as to their origin, intimates their future, and concentrate the greatest imaginary power and, as a consequence, the greatest symbolic value.”5 Sin, then, is the separation from that perichoretic unity with God. It is the stopping of the flow of self-sacrificial love. This is why the othering of racism is so damaging. It stands in the way of the flow of the life of God. It short-circuits the mutual indwelling. According to Copland: “Racism opposes the order of Eucharist. Racism insinuates the reign of sin; it is intrinsic evil.”6 The remedy for these ills is to be brought back into unity. Moltmann says this: “If sin is the separation of the creatures from the eternal source of their life, then salvation lies in their inclusion into the community of eternal life.”7
Alongside Perichoresis, Kenosis and Apokatastasis are some of my favorite theological ideas. The restoration of all things brought about by the endless self-emptying mutuality of the divine. The Father makes space for the Son and the Spirit. The Son makes space for the Father and the Spirit. The Spirit makes space for the Son and the Father. Endlessly poured out for each other. In turn, the divine enters human life and, as Dr. Malcom put it, “enters the most radically opposite reality to God: death.” Death, in its hunger, consumes God and is defeated. Death defeated makes space for life abundant. Poured into us, this life brings about the restoration of all things. Apokatastasis is about more than just human salvation. It is about new life for all of creation afflicted by sin. As a result of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, who is the Christ, the restoration of all things is enacted. Dr. Malcom pointed out that for Kasper, apokatastasis is a “performative enactment of hope.” This description reminds me of the speech act of promise. Kasper goes on to talk about the inability to control the outcomes. Humans must say yes to God, and as such, might reject God’s offer. I don’t find that all that different from the fulfillment of promise. In fact, apokatastasis is the fulfillment of promise. God has proved to be very patient in the waiting of promise. Yes, salvation requires our participation. Our participation is inevitable. According to Gregory of Nyssa, it is only natural.8
One challenge of this way of thinking that has been presented by many reformed thinkers is the idea of predestination. Scripture indeed talks about predestination for salvation. This brings with it the problem of those who do not accept the free gift of grace. This has led to the logical conclusion that if there is a predestination for salvation and some do not accept the gift, it follows that they are predestined to do so. This notion is called double predestination. Double predestination only exists because we cannot see beyond the horizon of time and death. This is a solution to the problem of human logic. That can also be solved by the endless patience of a God who is not short on time.
The Great Commission, as noted in Matthew 28, is foundational to the Pentecostal identity: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age”(Matt 28:19-20). Every missions service held in the local churches I grew up in proclaimed this verse as its mandate. The Pentecostal notion of spirit empowerment is that we are empowered for Kingdom mission. During my undergrad, I was taught that the Missio Dei was the very heartbeat of scripture. In addition, the work of mission was urgent. Generations were dying without an opportunity to respond to the message of the Gospel. I have struggled with this framework for the kingdom work we, as Christians, are called to for many years. This struggle has intensified as the political divide between evangelical churches and anyone who thinks differently has widened. The other has become an outright enemy. There seems to be a fundamental misunderstanding about the role trinitarian-shaped hospitality plays in mission.
Sanchez frames mission in terms of justice, and for him, the most crucial consideration for our approach to justice is the “who.” We must consider the specific needs of the people for whom we do the work of justice. Sanchez calls this a “Neighbor-oriented approach.” He says this about this approach: “Seen from a neighbor-oriented angle, vocation paradoxically makes the command of love real or incarnate by narrowing its sphere of influence to concrete neighbors…”9 Loving our neighbor means understanding their specific needs as well as their way of being in the world. However, for mission to fit the perichoretic shape, it must be more than just other oriented.
Hospitality is central to our work in the Kingdom for Yong. This notion of hospitality is first rooted in the hospitality of the mutual indwelling of trinitarian perichoresis. Second, it is rooted in a Pentecostal understanding of Spirit baptism. In baptism, we become host to the Holy Spirit. When we host, the Holy Spirit comes to us as we are, yet it is a mutual indwelling. We are invited into the life of the Spirit and are consequently transformed. Finally, hospitality is the foundation of our approach to the other. We invite the other into our lives, and they can know us on our terms. But, when we are invited into the life of the other, we must come as guests. For Yong, the foundation of the understanding of trinitarian hospitality is the willingness to be a guest in the life of the other. This entering into the life of the other requires coming on their terms, requiring a kenotic approach. This Kenotic and perichoetic way is modeled on all layers of theology and must be taken especially into our notion of mission.10
Perichoresis becomes the framework for Christian theology. This divine dance becomes the choreography of the life of Christ Followers. This idea moves from abstraction to embodied reality in the sacraments. We are enveloped into the life of triune love in fellowship and community. We move into mission by becoming guests. It’s all a dance.
- John Green, Turtles All the Way Down (Dutton Books, 2017). ↩︎
- Richard Rohr, The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation (SPCK, 2016). ↩︎
- Jürgen Moltmann, Perichoresis: An Old Magic Word for a New Trinitarian Theology, n.d.. ↩︎
- M. Shawn Copeland, Enfleshing Freedom: Body, Race, and Being, Innovations (Fortress Press, 2010). ↩︎
- Copeland, Enfleshing Freedom. ↩︎
- Moltmann, Perichoresis. ↩︎
- St. Gregory of Nyssa, On Death and Eternal Life, trans. Brian E. Daley (St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2022). ↩︎
- Leopoldo A. Sánchez, “The Human Face of Justice: Reclaiming the Neighbor in Law, Vocation, and Justice Talk,” Concordia Journal 39, no. 2 (2013): 117–32 ↩︎
- Amos Yong, Hospitality and the Other: Pentecost, Christian Practices, and the Neighbor, Faith Meets Faith Series (Orbis Books, 2008). ↩︎