Rublev's "The Trinity"
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Rublev's "The Trinity" |
Andrei Rublev was born circa
1360. Little is known of his early life however, his name is associated with the
history of the
An icon is not a painting in
the sense we normally regard pieces of art, although it is an image that is
painted. An icon is a window out of the obvious realities of everyday life into
the realm of God. Every paint-stroke has a meaning hallowed by centuries of
prayer. Icons are religious images that hover between two worlds, putting into
colors and shapes what cannot be grasped by the intellect. Rendering the
invisible visible. Icons are the visual equivalents of the Divine Scriptures.
Not every religious painting can be considered an icon. Icons are religious
pictures that convey inner spiritual meaning of their subject matter. The Son of
God came to restore the divine image in human form. Iconography is the graphic
witness to this restoration.
In the medieval
The words "close
to" are used because, after five centuries, the icon's painting turned out
to be severely damaged. The gold background was lost, the tree was painted anew
within the old contours and the top layers of paint were washed off. Even the
ground was partially disturbed and cracks appeared, the outlines of the Angels'
heads were partly altered. Notwithstanding the above, even in its present state
the Trinity remains one of the best of all the Russian icons.
According to the theological
interpretations whose authors associated the Old Testament events with events of
the New Testament, these Angels were the three Persons of the Trinity: God the
Father, God the Son and the Holy Spirit. Though revealing direct iconographic
affinity with this kind of representations, the Trinity as painted by Rublev,
has its own features that carry a new quality and a new content. In Rublev's
icon we observe for the first time all the three Angels shown equal. This icon
alone conformed to the strict rules of the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity.
It is not fortuitous that we
perceive Andrei Rublev's Trinity as the highest achievement of Russian art.
Crowning a long artistic career of a single master, it is also an embodiment of
the creative thought of several generations. Just as any other medieval artist,
Rublev highly valued tradition and collective effort
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 center. Less
distinctly, a rocky hill lies in the upper right corner. The composition is a
great circle around the table, focusing the attention on the chalice-bowl at the
center, 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.
Rublev gives each person of
the Trinity 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
colors; 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 colors 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.
The wings of the angels or
persons are gold. Their seats are gold. The chalice in the center is gold, and
the roof of the house. Whether they sit, whether they fly, all is perfect,
precious, and 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 center of all things,
his way is golden.
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 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 Godhead 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, and 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 traveler. 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.
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 traveler. 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.
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 traveling.
God is with us in the weariness of our human road. The traveler God sits down at
our ordinary tables and spreads them with a hint of heaven
The table or altar lies at
the center 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 center 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.