Halo Cat Haz Halo!
Theologian Eugene F. Rogers (in After the Spirit) has compared the Holy Spirit’s relation to the other two members of the Trinity to that of the best man to two people getting married (or the bridesmaid if you prefer). His role is to participate in the joy of the wedding couple and by sharing it it, amplify it. The best man’s presence is totally gratuitious: it only takes two to marry. Yet in another sense his participation is utterly essential – it is called for, demanded almost – by Love, which in its very nature cannot help but call others into its circle, to glory in and reflect Itself. In this the best man is the synedoche or representative of the rest of the wedding guests.
In a similar sense, the Father and the Son are complete in themselves – for they are Love. Yet even (especially!) such Love cannot be perfect without one to whom to tell the Good News of itself. So, to change metaphor a little, here we move from the closed, balanced and binary system of the couple to the open, dynamic and unbounded system of community. In this the Spirit prefigures a role that all who are loved by God are invited to play – participation in the life of the Trinity.
C S Lewis writes (poetically – not literally) of God never being bored of seeing the sun come up: “Do it again!” God cries, each morning. Similarly, in God’s oikos (meaning both household and economy) there is always room for one more. “There’s a wideness to God’s mercy” as the old song says.
This, I suggest, is one reason why so many people struggle to find an adequate role or theological raison d’etre for the Spirit – apart from a few pentecostal party tricks. To paraphrase Eugene F. Rogers again, quoting Annie Get Your Gun (!) , Everything The Spirit Can Do, it appears Jesus (or the Father) Can Do Better. It’s true: the Spirit is utterly gratuitious (from grace) – that’s his or her job! Or, to put it another way, the Spirit exists to say something about God, rather than to do anything in particular.
From here to cats and dogs may seem a long stride. But in many human households the pet plays a very similar role to the Spirit of God. For example, my partner and I don’t have children. But we do have a much-loved if rather worn out cat. We got her for no deeper reason that we (well, I actually) liked cats. We were perfectly happy without her. But over the years we have come to see her – if it doesn’t seem hopelessly grandiose – as our little Holy Spirit.
She is our gratuitious third, who exists out of our love and in it. She has called forth love from us that we didn’t know we had – not taking away the love we two humans have for each other, but adding to it. We don’t need her – she performs no useful service, not even eating bugs. She complicates our lives with litter trays, fur balls and increasingly frequent and expensive trips to the vet. But she symbolicaly moved us from couple to community. She reminds us that we two are not to exist for each other, not merely to look inward, but to have room for the Other.
