One Another
I have been awakened and inspired during this journey into God’s relationship toward and with the human person. Reflecting on God’s ongoing effort to reconnect with us, this term has provided many insights. As I reflect, I imagine holding a smooth stone inscribed with the word perichoresis. Perichoresis refers to the mutual indwelling and deep unity within the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—inviting us into a similar relationship of closeness with God.
Just as a kiss can be the evidence of love, so the Holy Spirit is the effect, or essence, between the loving gaze of the Father to the Son, and the Son back to the Father. As we read in Scripture the proclamation during Jesus’ baptism, “This is my beloved Son,” and thereafter witness Jesus’ continual journey to reveal the Father to us, we may willingly, as Christ-bearers, enter the mystery, experiencing in our souls the full weight of that intimacy. I believe, in my very basic understanding, that as I see the Father lean to kiss Jesus’ forehead, I, in Him, also turn my face upward to receive all the effect He would lavish on His beloved Son.
But let’s not stop here. Jesus prayed in the garden that we, together with Him, could be one in this way—not only in isolation with the Trinity, but one with one another through the same invitation. I know this is well-traveled ground, but as it has moved from my head to my heart, I muse about the implications of this perichoresis when offering spiritual direction. As I participate in this Trinitarian dance, I notice God gazing at the directee, compelling them, through grace, to come a bit closer, as Jesus coaxes them from within. Over time, with lots of space and little movements of willingness, sonship dawns on the heart of the directee, and they receive the heavenly “kiss” of the Holy Spirit. Because I am also enfolded in love, compassionately observing, I become exactly what I am created to be—loving. Spiritual formation in myself and in another is the evidence of participation in divine Trinitarian intimacy.
When I contemplate this further, I begin to explore the edge of what it may mean to “priest creation.” Could not all daily interactions, whether human, plant, animal, or element, be a part of this practice? Sleeping, waking, eating, walking? If “presencing” Jesus for another is a gift, what of offering spiritual direction through all experiences? Wondering about this, I went on a walk the other day. I started with what I could directly see—trees, sky, rain, birds—and offered thanks to God for them. As I did so, I began to hear Scripture verses and other divine thoughts, and spoke them aloud to the beasts and trees. I could feel God’s delight at this, and I began to see more and more intricacies of His physical creation speaking back to my soul. As I crossed the threshold between nature and town, a marvelous thing happened. As people crossed my path, I simply continued in my offering of each with thanks, and kept hearing, “Yes, I love them. Thank you for bringing them to me.” I felt my heart swelling with such love, without the burden of “saving” them or “witnessing.” In fact, it was releasing them in thanks to God, which was pleasing to Him.
Since then, I have noticed that when thinking about the larger, politically charged issues of our times—euthanasia, abortion, racial equality, and war—if I practice simply offering the trauma, questions, anxiety, or deep sorrow to God with thanks for His lovingkindness and direction, I can hear simple prayers of love offered back to the broken world. One by one, He listens to my compassionate observations, lifts the burden from my open heart, and showers love in return. There seems to me to be an invitation to priest all of our daily experiences, so that when we come to the hour of spiritual direction, it is just a seamless continuation of an unbroken presence of God.
I am no longer anxious about what my directee may wish to discuss, as I now know God requires no more from me than loving participation. My offering is a space to love them as an image-bearer of Christ, inviting them into this same perichoresis.
Kelley Chong has travelled throughout East Asia with her family, sharing Christ through home education, the arts, and building houses of prayer. As a recent graduate of Emmaus, Kelley hopes to explore the intersection of the arts and spiritual formation, and companion those longing to express their inner journey with God creatively. She resides on Vancouver Island with her husband and her adult children, and can be found around her big table with a multitude of coffee-drinking, Jesus-hungry young adults.