Into the Silent Canyon - Part Three

In this, the last of my reflections on my excursion into the wilderness monastic community, I want to share the third and final pressing thing I observed while finding myself immersed in this Benedictine way of life. Though the consideration of such a subject has sparked a indeterminable weighty number of articles and books (books thicker than my waist many times, and I don't claim to have the thinnest of figures), I find my thoughts upon this subject during and since my time at the monastery have been rather simple - even short, which is not normal for such a long-winded person. To that end, this post will probably be the shortest of the three (but not by much), which will probably come as a relief to the few who actually read this blog.
This subject is the fullness of God.
I alluded to such a foundational element of the faith in my last post - that, and the lack of many Christians (within the American Church today) recognition of it. It became evident to me, in a kind of quietly revelatory manner, during my time in the canyon, that those "in" my particular style of faith (Baptist and more Free-church, evangelical culture denominations) are very Christ-centered in our faith and in our expression of our faith. This is not wrong. In fact, I truly believe it is of the greatest importance of both the individual Christian and the Church. For Christ is the Savior of every person on earth, past and present and future, as well as the head of the Church. This is not simply a Pauline doctrine. As I view it, it is basic Christology.
However (oh yes, there is a "however," for if not, there would be no real point to this post), I believe those "in" my tradition have, in their Christ-centered way of doing things, displaced two other important elements. That is, they have lost the necessary, equal importance of God the Father, and the Holy Spirit. Not very often will you hear, in my church tradition, a prayer addressed to the Spirit, nor will you hear much talk of God the Father without coupling him like a motorcycle sidecar to Jesus Christ. While I never rejected the importance of the central truth and devotion to Christ while I was worshipping with the monks in New Mexico, I came to cherish their complete recognition of the Trinity - the equality and shared deserving of our worship. Scripture speaks much in family metaphor, and though it does not explicitly speak of the Trinity (for it is a construction coming out of early Church history), the doctrine of the Trinity is grounded in the presence of the three persons of God revealed in the Bible. We are accepted as children of God, made brothers with Christ, and guided in an almost parental manner by the Spirit ("he will guide you into all truth ..." - John 16:13). Indeed, the Trinity seems to share familial ties, metaphorically speaking, though such is their binding and their oneness with one another that Yahweh God goes far beyond simple family metaphor. St. John of the Cross envisioned the persons of the Trinity in a kind of constant dance with each other - this was how they were bound - and indeed many times it seems God dances with his children ... sings over them ... fellowships with them in a hundred thousand different ways.
And yet rarely if ever in my church tradition do I hear equal importance, equal reverence, and equal submission being expressed of the Trinity. Our Christ-centeredness is not Christ-centeredness at all if we throw out the Father and/or the Spirit and focus our attention solely on Christ. He will stand stark, measurable, and without the blinding reality of his fullness. It is interesting to note the way in which salivating evangelicals defended Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ because of its "flawless" depiction of Christ's suffering. I will admit, I was greatly moved by the film - it is one of only a very small number of films I have viewed in my lifetime that have brought me to tears. However, upon emerging from the stunned silence of the theater, I could not help but think, "I understand completely why some Jewish people are upset by this film." For one, most of the Jews (true to Scripture or not) were indeed made to look evil for evil's sake - not much more developed than a James Bond villain. And secondly, coupled with the excrutiating amount of hype surrounding the film, everything became centered on Christ, and the basic feeling among many evangelicals was, Christ is God, bar none; any Jewish resentment is simply and sadly the grumblings of people who worship a pagan god. Oh, how wrong a sentiment that is! Jews worship the same God that we as Christians do, but there are many Christians who would shudder at this reality. This is because we have, over the decades and centuries, completely separated Christ and our "Christian God" from his very history, that which is immersed in and made knowable only through Jewish culture and writings.
The point is this: Christ is more than simply the patron saint of Christianity. He is not the end-all focus; he is central to our faith, but this is not the same thing. The Trinity is what surrounds us, watches over us, "speaks" to us, directs us, etc. Not simply Christ. We must seek to let our worship conform to the fullness of God - Yahweh God expressed in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost - and not simply one part of him. The Apostles' Creed itself begins in this way. Christ is my Savior. He is my Lord. And he is both the human and divine expression of God for salvation and redemption. But he is the Son of my heavenly Father, and the aim of the Spirit which guides me in lifestyle and love.
As I mentioned in my previous post, at the close of almost every psalm chanted, as well as each hour of prayer, the guests and monks would always sing the doxology known as the "Glory Be." It is, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without end. Amen." We would bow for these words, chanting them before the throne of God (Hebrews 4:16), our full and glorious God.
The Trinity - the fullness of God - is a difficult subject, and I do not assume to have even the slightest percentage of understanding on it. But there is one thing I do know, and it is a beautiful thing when I step aside and let it (and not me) drive my life into what it must desperately be. The Trinity is the people of this earth's best way of understanding a God who is infinitely beyond understanding, beyond our ability to nail him down and figure him out (despite what a thousand different Christian-market fiction and non-fiction books would have you believe). And somewhere within this mystery, we find him to be our Father, our Brother, our Guide, our Friend, our Lover, our Head, our Help, our Hope ...
Thank God for metaphor, huh?

Jesus in the Monastery Chapel

(At days' end, the light of the setting sun would end up upon him.)