that they
often skip right past the "definitions" stage and charge into the "tooth
and claw" stage. And this is not only true today. Historically speaking,
many of the early battles over the doctrine centuries ago had to do with
one side using a certain set of terms in one way, and the other the same
set of terms in another way. This was made even more a difficulty by
the fact that you had Greek-speaking people trying to understand what Latin-speaking people were saying, and vice versa. Today we can look
back and realize that early on both sides were saying the same thing,
only they were saying it with different words. If someone had just sat
down and defined terms clearly and forcefully, a lot of arguments could
have been avoided.
When it comes to the central affirmation of the triune nature of
God, most of the time we leap right past the "formalities" and directly
into a tug-of-war with passages of Scripture. The result is almost always the same: both sides go away thinking the other is utterly blind.
Such frustrating experiences could be minimized if we remember that
we cannot assume that the other person shares our knowledge or understanding of the specifics of the doctrine under discussion. As tedious as it may seem at first, we must resist the temptation to bypass
the necessary "groundwork" and insist that everyone define what they
believe the Trinity to be, and how they are going to be using many of
the key terms that come into play. Without this first step, little else will
be accomplished.
BUT CAN YOU DEFINE THE UNDEFINABLE?
Before we present a definition of the Trinity, it is important to point
out that we face a real difficulty right at the start: language itself. Christians have struggled for centuries to express, within the limitations of
human language, the unique revelation God makes of His mode of
existence. We struggle because language is a finite means of communication. Finite minds are trying to express in words infinite truths. At
times we simply cannot "say" what we need to say to adequately express the grandeur that is our God.
Humans communicate by means of examples. When little children
start asking the endless series of questions that suggest themselves to
little minds, we often find ourselves using analogies and examples in
our replies. When asked what a new food tastes like, we compare it to
known foods in the child's life. We might say, "It tastes a little bit like
crackers with honey on them," knowing the child has had crackers with
honey. That may not be exactly what it tastes like, but they get the idea.
As their "database" of knowledge grows, so we can expand our anal ogies. We never escape this element of our language. When we encounter new thoughts, new ideas, it is natural for us to fit them into
preexisting categories by comparing them with past experiences or
facts.
This process works just fine for most things. But for unique things,
it doesn't. If something is truly unique, it cannot be compared to anything else, at least not without introducing some element of error. One
might be able to draw a parallel to a certain aspect of the truly unique
thing, but if it's really unique, the analogy will be limited, and, if
pressed too far, downright erroneous. But since we don't encounter
too many completely unique things in our lives, we manage to get
along.
The problem is, of course, God is completely unique. He is God,
and there is no other. He is totally unlike anything else, and as He
frequently reminds us, "To whom then will you liken Me?" (Isaiah
40:25). There is no answer to that question, because to compare God
to anything in the created order is, in the final analysis, to deny His
uniqueness. When we say, "God is like ..." we are treading on dangerous ground. Yes, we might be able to illustrate a certain aspect of
God's being in this way, but in every instance the analogy, if pushed
far enough, is going to break down.
Our language fails