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 Babelfish Translation
Roublev's Icon of the Trinity - "He is the
image of the invisible God" (Col. 1:15)
Unity: One God
An attentive look shows that there is something striking about the
three persons: their features are identical. It as if it were the same person
shown three times. It is one and the same figure shown three times in
different positions.
Each of the three holds in their hand the same sceptre, symbol of
power, and has the same halo; they have equal dignity and equal royalty. The
clothing of all three includes the color blue - symbol of the divine truth in which they
dwell. Finally, the wings which enfold them are of the same shape and size.
St. Nocone, head of the monastery of the Trinity at Zagorak, had
asked Roublev "to represent the Trinity as source and exemplar of all unity".
Accordingly, one sees in the icon a second dimension. It represents
God, one God possessing one and the same divine nature in three persons.
Structure of the Icon: The Modules
The great icons are not constructed haphazardly: there is
always an internal structure underlying and containing the symbols, and that is called the
"module". There are four basic modules: the square, the circle, the
triangle and the cross. The Russians made a spectacular revelation of the
modular system of the great icons; actually each mystery is always constructed on the same
modules to which traditional rules have given a meaning. Thus the Transfiguration is
based on the triangle module, the Last Supper on the circle, the Ascension on a cross.
These modules almost always have a theological significance which enables one to
search into the meaning of the mystery represented.
Uniquely, the Trinity icon has all four fundamental modules in its
structure. Three of them, the circle, the triangle and the cross have here a
theological significance.
We still do not know the symbolism of one detail: the rectangle
drawn at the centre of the table, under the cup. In the middle ages it was thought
that the earth was rectangular, and iconography represented it thus. Thus the
rectangle under the cup is our world, it is us and our earth. At the centre of the
Trinity, under the table, is the earth of men.
Just as the Renaissance was transforming the cultural map of Europe,
Rublev painted this picture at the apex of the icon tradition in Russia. Every
paint-stroke had a meaning hallowed by centuries of prayer. An icon was a window out of
the obvious realities of everyday life into the realm of God. It hovered between two
worlds, putting into colours and shapes what cannot be grasped by the intellect. Rendering
the invisible visible.
This icon takes as its subject the mysterious story where Abraham
receives three visitors as he camps by the oak of Mamre. He serves them a meal. As the
conversation progresses he seems to be talking straight to God, as if these 'angels' were
in some way a metaphor for the three persons of the Trinity.
In Rublev's representation of the scene, the three gold-winged figures
are seated around a white table on which a golden, chalice-like bowl contains a roasted
lamb. In the background of the picture, a house can be seen at the top left and a tree in
the centre. Less distinctly, a rocky hill lies in the upper right corner. The composition
is a great circle around the table, focussing the attention on the chalice-bowl at the
centre, which reminds the viewer inescapably of an altar at Communion.
On one level this picture shows three angels seated under Abraham's
tree, but on another it is a visual expression of what the Trinity means, what is the
nature of God, and how we approach him. Reading the picture from left to right, we see the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. All this is portrayed in the subtlety and ambiguity
of colour and line. It only discloses itself as we spend time and prayer before it. It
does not assert or preach, and remains open to misunderstanding. It is less like a sermon
than an encounter. After 'watching' this picture for a long time, these are some of the
things I have seen. In your gaze, there will be many more.
The Colours
Rublev gives each person of the Trinity a different clothing. On the
right, the Holy Spirit has a garment of the clear blue of the sky, wrapped over with a
robe of a fragile green. So the Spirit of creation moves in sky and water, breathes in
heaven and earth. All living things owe their freshness to his touch.
The Son has the deepest colours. A thick heavy garment of the
reddish-brown of earth and a cloak of the blue of heaven. In his person he unites heaven
and earth, the two natures are present in him, and over his right shoulder (the Government
shall be upon his shoulder) there is a band of gold shot through the earthly garment, as
his divinity suffuses and transfigures his earthly being.
The Father seems to wear all the colours in a kind of fabric that
changes with the light, that seems transparent, that cannot be described or confined in
words. And this is how it should be. No-one has seen the Father, but the vision of him
fills the universe.
Gold
The wings of the angels or persons are gold. Their seats are gold. The
chalice in the centre is gold, and the roof of the house. Whether they sit, whether they
fly, all is perfect, precious, worthy. In stasis, when there is no activity apparent on
the part of God, his way is golden. When he flies, blazes with power and unstoppable
strength, his way is golden. And in the Sacrifice at the centre of all things, his way is
golden.
But the light that shines around their heads is white, pure light. Gold
is not enough to express the glory of God. Only light will do, and that same white becomes
the holy table, the place of offering. God is revealed and disclosed here, at the heart,
in the whiteness of untouchable light.
The Two Movements.
The Father looks forward, raising his hand in blessing to the Son. It is
impossible to tell whether he looks up at the Son or down to the chalice on the table, but
his gesture expresses a movement towards the Son. This is my Son, listen to him… The
hand of the Son points on, around the circle, to the Spirit. In this simple array we see
the movement of life towards us, The Father sends the Son, the Son sends the Spirit. The
life flows clockwise around the circle. And we complete the circle. As the Father sends
the Son, as the Son sends the Holy Spirit, so we are invited and sent to complete the
circle of the God-head with our response. And we respond to the movement of the Spirit who
points us to Jesus. And he shows us the Father in whom all things come to fruition. This
is the counter-clockwise movement of our lives, in response to the movement of God. And
along the way are the three signs at the top of the picture: the hill, the tree, the
house.
The Spirit touches us, even though we do not know who it is that is
touching us. He leads us by ways we may not be aware of, up the hill of prayer. It may be
steep and rocky, but the journeying God goes before us along the path. It leads to Jesus,
the Son of God,; and it leads to a tree. A great tree in the heat of the day spreads its
shade. It is a place of security, a place of peace, a place where we begin to find out the
possibilities of who we can be. It is no ordinary tree. It stands above the Son in the
picture, and stands above the altar-table where the lamb lies within the chalice. Because
of the sacrifice this tree grows. The tree of death has been transformed into a tree of
life for us.
The tree is on the way to the house. Over the head of the Father is the
house of the Father. It is the goal of our journey. It is the beginning and end of our
lives. Its roof is golden. Its door is always open for the traveller. It has a tower, and
its window is always open so that the Father can incessantly scan the roads for a glimpse
of a returning prodigal.
Staffs for the journey
Each person holds a staff which is so long it cuts the picture into
sections. Why should beings with wings, that can fly like the light, have need of a staff
for their journey? Because we are on a journey, and these three persons enter into our
journey, our slow movement across the face of the earth. Their feet are tired from
travelling. God is with us in the weariness of our human road. The traveller God sits down
at our ordinary tables and spreads them with a hint of heaven
The Table
The table, or altar, lies at the centre of the picture. It is at once
the place of Abraham's hospitality to the angels, and God's place of hospitality to us.
That ambiguity lies at the heart of communion, at the heart of worship. As soon as we open
a sacred place for God to enter, for God to be welcomed and adored, it becomes his place.
It is we who are welcomed, it is we who must 'take off our shoes' because of the holiness
of the ground.
Contained in the centre of the circle, a sign of death. The lamb,
killed. The holy meal brought to the table. All points to this space, this mystery: within
it, everything about God is summed up and expressed, his power, his glory, and above all
his love. And it is expressed in such a way that we can reach it. For the space at this
table is on our side. We are invited to join the group at the table and receive the heart
of their being for ourselves. We are invited to complete the circle, to join the dance, to
complete the movements of God in the world by our own response. Below the altar a
rectangle marks the holy place where the relics of the martyrs were kept in a church. It
lies before us. It invites us to come into the depth and intimacy of all that is
represented here. Come follow the Spirit up the hill of prayer. Come, live in the shadow
of the Son of God, rest yourself beneath his tree of life. Come, journey to the home,
prepared for you in the house of your Father. The table is spread, the door is open Come.
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