Reality, Metaphor, and Trinity

One of the less palatable habits of Miroslav’s Volf’s chapter on the Trinity is his blithe dismissal of the personal names of Father, Son, and Spirit as mere “metaphors.” One example comes from page 138: “Using metaphorical terminology of ‘Fatherhood’ and ‘Sonship,’ in John’s Gospel Jesus claims, ‘The Father is in me an I am in the Father.'” This citation is followed in subsequent pages by the apparently similar affirmation that this is true of any human description of God, as for instance various divine attributes.

But in the context of a chapter addressed specifically to Christians, this repeated claim is insufficient. The language of God as Father, Son, and Spirit is scriptural, ecclesial, and sacramental; it is a formula, Christians believe, enjoined by Christ himself. Thus Volf’s understanding of “metaphor” seems utterly inadequate: “The words paint a picture or tell a story…God is inexpressible, beyond our concepts, beyond our language.” But the usage of this language in the Gospels by Christ Himself is not analogical; Matthew 28 does not set out to describe what God is like, but declares the real being of the God to whom the baptized Christian is united.

I wonder if it is not misleading, then, to compare the scriptural account of the divine persons to a picture on a wall which is entirely different from the thing it describes. It suggests a sort of tertium quid which communicates intellectual content to the reader. But to borrow the imagery of an esteemed contemporary theologian, scriptural language is rather iconography than portraiture: it is the site of God’s self-revelation to us, through which we are granted a window onto Him, not a secondhand description or rendering of the divine relationships. Volf’s apophaticism, while deeply modern, seems out of step with the apophaticism which underpinned early Christian theology. The Cappadocians or Athanasius, for instance, do not conceive of scriptural language as a tertium quid, but the site of an encounter with God, the place at which one cleaves to Him and is overwhelmed by Him.

In this respect, I wonder if the continued understanding of Triune names as “metaphors” is helpful ecumenically. Does it sever the intimate continuity between the scriptural account of God and the reality of the Trinity? How might recovering a different sense of what it means for God to transcend language contribute to a more fruitful dialogue between Muslims and Christians? Or to a more robust understanding on the part of Christians of their distinctive doctrines?