Theodynamics Law Seven

The Law of Triune Love or Being-As-Communion

God Is a Loving Community

April 19, 2026

John 17:21“…that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

Big Idea

God is not a lonely ruler; God is a loving community—Father, Son, and Spirit—and he invites us into that love. Or in short: God is communion, not isolation.

A Different Picture of God

If you asked many people to picture God, even in church, the image that often appears is something like a CEO in the sky: a solitary figure high above, sitting on a throne or behind a big desk in a corner office. God is powerful. God is in charge. But in that imagination, God is also alone.

If God is basically a solitary boss, then it makes sense to see the Christian life as trying not to get fired—keeping your head down, avoiding mistakes, hoping the performance review goes okay. In addition, if the God at the center of everything is alone, it becomes very easy for us to accept our own loneliness as normal: lonely in a marriage, lonely in a crowd, lonely with a phone full of contacts and yet feeling like nobody really sees you.

The gospel offers a very different picture. Not God as a CEO behind a closed door, but God as a joyful family gathered around a table—sharing stories, laughing, loving one another—and then pulling out one more chair and saying, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

God’s Inner Life: Perichoresis

In John 14, one of Jesus’ closest friends, Philip, says, “Lord, show us the Father.” He wants to see what God is really like.

Jesus answers:

“Philip said, ‘Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.’ Jesus answered: ‘Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.… Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me?… Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me.’”

Jesus does not describe God as a distant force. He says, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father,” and, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” He is not just saying, “We get along really well.” He is saying: “The Father lives in me; I live in the Father. We share one life, one love. We dwell in one another.”

The early church had a word for this: perichoresis – mutual indwelling. Etymology

• The word comes from Ancient Greek: περιχώρησις (perikhōrēsis).

• It is formed from:

  • peri (περί) = “around.”

  • chōreō / chorein (χωρέω / χωρεῖν) = “to go, to move, to make room, to give space, to contain.”

• So the basic sense is “going around,” “encompassing,” or “making room around/for,” not originally “dance.”

The popular “dance” connection comes from the similar‑sounding word choreia (χορεία, dance), but that’s a different root and is a modern metaphor, not the actual etymology or early use.

Theological use

• As a theological term, perichoresis is used to describe the mutual indwelling and co‑inherence of the divine persons—Father, Son, and Spirit—within the one God.

• The noun appears in patristic theology by the time of Maximus the Confessor (d. 662), while the related verb perichōreō appears earlier in Gregory of Nazianzus and others.

• It was first used about the relation of Christ’s divine and human natures, and then extended to the Trinity as a description of how the persons “indwell” one another without confusion or separation.

The origin of perichoresis is in Greek words meaning “going around / making room,” and the church fathers adopted it to name the mutual indwelling at the heart of the Trinity, later poetically pictured as a “divine dance.” So, let you imagination go there: before there was Creation, life, or time, there was a dance. Father, Son, and Spirit danced together, fully sharing the one divine life, each person in the other, perfectly giving and receiving love.

From all eternity, God was never alone. The Father has always loved the Son. The Son has always delighted in the Father. The Spirit has always been the living love and joy between them.

God’s inner life is not cold emptiness; it is a communion of love.

Law Seven: The Law of Triune Love

This leads to Theodynamics Law Seven:

The Law of Triune Love: God’s very being is eternal communion — Father, Son, and Spirit mutually indwelling one another — and all of God’s action is this triune life overflowing to draw creation into that love.

Short form: God is communion, not isolation.

This isn’t only a New Testament idea. In Genesis 1:26, God says, “Let us make humankind in our image, in our likeness.” Ancient Israel heard that as the one God speaking in a mysterious plural. The early church, reading the Torah in the light of Jesus and the Spirit, often took that “us” as a faint whisper of the Father addressing the Son and the Spirit. It is not a knock‑down proof text, but it is a beautiful echo: even the first chapter of Scripture hints that God is, in some sense, a we—a communion of love, not a lonely “I.”

For many of us, “Trinity” has felt like a math problem: “Three in one, one in three ... what?” The point of the Trinity, though, is not to confuse us but to comfort us. It means that at the very center of reality there is not a lonely monarch but a living relationship of love.

When we say “God,” we are naming a community of love — Father, Son, and Spirit — who know how to love well. For those newer to faith or still exploring, Jesus’ words are crucial: “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.” The God we are dealing with is the Father in the Son, the Son in the Father, and the Spirit of truth dwelling with and in us. Bottom line: God is communion, not isolation.

Invited Into the Table of Love

It would be one thing for God to be communion “up there” and quite another for that communion to touch our lives. The astonishing claim of the New Testament is not only that God is communion, but that God wants us in on it.

In John 17:20–23, Jesus prays:

“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one — I in them and you in me — so that they may be brought to complete unity.”

Jesus prays not only for the first disciples but “for those who will believe in me through their message.” That includes us. His prayer is that we may be one “just as you are in me and I am in you… may they also be in us.”

He doesn’t just want Christians to get along a little better. He wants our life together to reflect, in some measure, the communion of the Father and the Son. He wants us to live in God; “in us,” he says, as participants in this triune love.

The apostle Paul picks this up in Ephesians 1:3–14. There we are told that we have been blessed “in Christ” with every spiritual blessing, chosen “in him,” adopted through Jesus Christ, and sealed with the Holy Spirit. Those small phrases, “in Christ,” “in him,” are the language of participation and union.

The picture is not: God over there, us over here, trying to climb a religious ladder. The picture is: the triune God opening the circle of his life and saying, “Come in. Share our life. Share our dance. Share our joy.”

Return to the opening image: a joyful family around a table, with one more chair. In Jesus Christ, the Father and the Spirit have scooted the chairs over, put your name on a place setting, and said, “We want you sitting here with us.”

We might protest: “But I am such a mess. I’m inconsistent. I doubt. I fail.” Jesus prays this prayer knowing the weakness of his disciples, knowing that Peter will deny him and that we are dust. His prayer is not grounded in our perfection, but in the Father’s love for him and his love for us.

Some might say, “I’m not even sure I believe all this yet.” That’s okay. What if, just for this week, you let this possibility rest in your heart: at the center of everything is not emptiness, not chaos, not a lonely king, but a loving community, and that community wants you at the table.

Why Communion Matters for Our Health

Interestingly, modern psychology is discovering what Scripture has proclaimed all along. Research shows that people who are meaningfully connected to others tend to have lower anxiety and depression, greater resilience, and even longer lives, while isolation and loneliness are major risk factors for both mental and physical illness. In other words, our minds and bodies are built for connection.

When we say, “God is communion, not isolation,” we are not just making a theological claim; we are naming the grain of reality. We were made in the image of a loving We, and we flourish — spiritually, emotionally, and physically — when we live in relationship.

Practices: Living as People With a Seat

To move this from idea to lived experience, here are three practices for the week.

1. Trinitarian Prayer (Daily)

Once each day, pray to the Father, then the Son, then the Holy Spirit. You don’t need elaborate words. For example:

“Father, thank you for loving me. Jesus, thank you for being with me. Holy Spirit, thank you for filling me and guiding me.”

Pay attention to what stirs in you as you address each Person. You can expect the tone of your awareness to shift with each name, even though you are always addressing the one God.

A gentle caution

Two people could pray the same Trinitarian prayer and feel very different things, or even nothing at all, and still be deeply heard and held. What follows is not a rule, but a guide to help build awareness.

Praying “Father”

Many believers describe a sense of being addressed from beyond themselves yet drawn near, someone “over” them who at the same time welcomes them as children.

People may notice:

• A felt otherness: “You are not me—and I am safe with You.”

• A movement toward trust, surrender, or being seen and named.

• Sometimes a quieting of anxiety, as if resting into a larger presence: “Abba, Father.”

An illustration: praying “Father” can feel like looking up into a wise face that already knows what you need before you ask.

Praying “Jesus”

When praying to Jesus, many experience a more companion-like nearness, someone beside them, sharing their path.

People may notice:

• A sense of friendship: “You understand this from the inside.”

• Warmth around his humanity — suffering, mercy, shared grief.

• A more conversational, “talking with a friend” feel; some say their thoughts and emotions feel more personally engaged.

An illustration: praying “Jesus” can feel like turning to a trusted friend sitting in the next chair, who has “been there” and does not flinch.

Praying “Holy Spirit”

Praying to the Spirit often tunes people to the God who is already within and between us, the interior teacher and breath.

People may notice:

• Subtle interior shifts: a deep breath, unexpected peace, a change in perspective.

• A sense of being gently guided or “nudged,” as if thoughts, scriptures, or insights are brought to mind.

• A very quiet intimacy — comfort, consolation, or a softening of the heart, more like atmosphere than dialogue.

An illustration: praying “Spirit” can feel like becoming aware of the air you were already breathing, suddenly realizing the Presence that has been holding you all along.

As you say ‘Father,’ notice what happens inside — perhaps an up‑turning of the heart, a sense of being held from beyond yourself.

As you say ‘Jesus,’ notice any shift toward companionship or shared humanity.

As you say ‘Spirit,’ notice any interior movement — peace, clarity, or even a gentle restlessness that points you toward your next faithful step.

If they feel nothing, you have not failed; God’s faithfulness does not depend on our sensations. Over time, though, many find that naming each Person slowly shapes their awareness of the one Love who is always praying in them and for them. You are not knocking on three different doors. You are speaking to the one God who is a loving communion of Father, Son, and Spirit, drawing you into relationship.

2. Make Room at the Table (One Meal)

Choose one meal this week to “add a chair.” Invite someone who often feels left out, a person who sits alone at coffee hour, a neighbor, a co‑worker, a family member on the edge of things. As you set that extra place, remember: this is what the Trinity has done for you. The Father, Son, and Spirit made room for you at their table. You are simply passing along what you have received.

3. Relationship Inventory (One Relationship)

Select one strained or distant relationship. In a quiet moment, ask:

• Where am I acting like a lonely ruler here — trying to control, withdraw, or protect myself at all costs?

• What small step would reflect the triune pattern of self‑giving and making room for the other, without becoming a doormat?

That step might be listening before defending, offering a small apology, or setting a firm but kind boundary. It might simply be praying, “Father, Son, and Spirit, let your love flow through me toward this person.”

These practices are not ways to earn a seat at God’s table. They are ways to live as people who already have one.

A Sentence to Carry With You

As you go into your home, workplace, school, and neighborhood this week, carry this sentence:

God is communion, not isolation — and there is a place for me at the table of his love.

God is connection, not separation. You go as someone who has a seat at that table, and you are free to keep an extra chair ready for someone else.