The Economy and Immanence of the Trinity: Some Musings on Rahner’s Rule
The Economy and Immanence of the Trinity: Some Musings on Rahner’s Rule
The doctrine of the Trinity has, from the earliest centuries of the Church, functioned both as a theological anchor and a locus of persistent conceptual tension. Among the more provocative attempts to bridge the divide between God’s self-revelation in history and the eternal relations of the Godhead is Karl Rahner’s so-called “rule”: the economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity, and the immanent Trinity is the economic Trinity.¹ On its face, the statement has a crisp logical elegance, but its implications ripple far beyond a simple axiom. It raises questions about authority, submission, and relational order within the Godhead, especially as these concepts intersect with the incarnation of Christ.
The classic formulation of Rahner’s insight underscores the incarnational subordination of the Son. During the state of humiliation, Christ is indeed submissive to the Father, obedient in every detail of his earthly mission.² This functional subordination is not a philosophical abstraction; it is something palpable in the Gospel narratives. Think, for instance, of Jesus praying in Gethsemane: “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). Here, the Son’s obedience is concrete, temporal, and bound up with the economy of salvation. And yet, Rahner insists that this subordination tells us something about the eternal, immanent relationship of Father and Son.³ Thomas Torrance captures this beautifully: if God’s revelation in Christ bore no resemblance to God’s eternal relations, then human knowledge of God would be radically impoverished.⁴
But Torrance also issues a caution that cannot be overlooked. While the economic Trinity reflects an order or arrangement within the immanent Trinity, he warns against interpreting this as hierarchical superiority.⁵ Christ’s submission in the economy does not entail inequality in the Godhead. This subtle distinction is reinforced by the doctrine of perichoresis, which posits an interpenetration of divine persons without confusion or division. A casual reader might assume that because the Son “takes a back seat” in the incarnation, he is ontologically inferior to the Father. But classical Trinitarian thought, from Augustine to Aquinas, has consistently rejected such a reading.⁶ The incarnational economy models relational dynamics without dictating ontological rank.
Yet, more recent scholarship has pushed for even greater nuance. Scott Harrower, for example, notes that Jesus’ subordination in the incarnation extends even to the Spirit, a point that complicates any simple mapping from economic to immanent Trinity.⁷ After the resurrection, the pattern shifts: Jesus appears to act as the dispenser of the Spirit (John 20:22; Acts 2:32–33). Harrower’s observation hints at a kind of reciprocity between the Son and Spirit that defies straightforward hierarchy.⁸ If one were to read this zigzag of authority directly back into the eternal Trinity, the picture would look chaotic—authority hopping from person to person as if the Godhead were engaged in divine musical chairs. While Rahner’s Rule encourages us to read the economy into the immanent life of God, Harrower reminds us that the mapping is not always symmetrical.
Fred Sanders similarly urges caution, arguing that not everything that is true of the immanent Trinity must necessarily be mirrored in the economic Trinity.⁹ This subtle corrective has significant theological implications. For instance, while the immanent Trinity may exist in eternal, perfect reciprocity, the economic Trinity unfolds historically with temporal contingencies. The incarnation itself is a historical event: Jesus born in Bethlehem, circumcised in accordance with Jewish law (Luke 2:21), baptized by John in the Jordan, and ultimately crucified under Pontius Pilate. These temporal, contingent realities do not define the immanent Trinity in its eternal relations, though they certainly illuminate them. The historical grounding of the economy adds texture, but it also enforces caution against over-literal readings.
Interestingly, some scholars have gone further to question the bidirectionality of Rahner’s assertion. Yves Congar, for instance, suggested that the economic Trinity can be read into the immanent Trinity, but the reverse may be inadvisable.¹⁰ His concern was that projecting eternal relations directly onto temporal events risks collapsing the distinction between what God eternally is and what God does in history. Randal Rauser even dismissed Rahner’s Rule as a kind of “emperor without clothes,” appreciating its rhetorical flair but doubting its substantive content.¹¹ Bruce Marshall echoes this skepticism, warning that Rahner’s bidirectionality may oversimplify the messy realities of Trinitarian theology.¹²
Yet, even with these critiques, the enduring value of Rahner’s insight cannot be ignored. It reminds us that God’s self-revelation in the incarnation is not a one-off, isolated event but a window into divine life. When the Son speaks of his unity with the Father (John 10:30), or when the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son (John 15:26), these are not mere theological abstractions. They are historical and relational truths that trace back to the immanent Trinity. To ignore this link would be to reduce Christology and pneumatology to mere ethical models or symbolic gestures, rather than genuine revelation.
A helpful illustration might be drawn from the early Church’s reflection on the Cappadocian Fathers. Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus were deeply concerned with preserving both the distinctiveness of the persons and the unity of God.¹³ They insisted that the Son and the Spirit were fully divine, yet also emphasized the historical reality of the Son’s incarnation and the Spirit’s mission. This dual focus—on eternal relations and historical revelation—anticipates Rahner’s attempt to keep the economic and immanent Trinities in conversation. And yet, even they would likely have agreed with Sanders and Harrower that one must avoid an oversimplified, mirror-image reading between eternity and history.
One might even note, almost as a curious aside, how Rahner’s aphorism resembles the logic of later analytic philosophy: a kind of self-referential statement that demands interpretation from multiple angles. But unlike abstract philosophical propositions, it has to contend with real, messy history: shepherds startled by angels, Magi navigating political peril to Bethlehem, disciples misunderstanding Jesus repeatedly, and the Spirit descending in tongues of fire. The economy of God is alive and situated, and these contingencies enrich, rather than diminish, our grasp of immanent reality.
Wrapping up these musings, Rahner’s Rule remains a cornerstone for thinking about the relation between God’s self-revelation and God’s eternal being, but it requires careful qualification. The incarnational subordination of the Son illustrates functional humility, obedience, and relational fidelity, yet it cannot be read as ontological inequality. Scholarly refinements by Harrower and Sanders demonstrate the importance of nuance: authority and relational dynamics in the economy may fluctuate historically, without implying instability in the immanent Trinity. And critiques from Congar, Rauser, and Marshall remind us that bidirectionality should not be assumed uncritically. Ultimately, the doctrine of the Trinity remains both a profound mystery and a lived reality: God in history, fully revealed, and yet eternally consistent with his own inner life. In grappling with these tensions, we gain a theology that is both intellectually rigorous and deeply attuned to the narrative texture of God’s saving work in Christ and the Spirit.
Endnotes
¹ Karl Rahner, The Trinity, trans. Joseph Donceel (Tunbridge Wells: Burns & Oates, 1970), 22.
² T. F. Torrance, Trinitarian Perspectives: Towards Doctrinal Agreement (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994), 81.
³ Ibid.
⁴ Ibid.
⁵ Ibid., 67.
⁶ Augustine, De Trinitate; Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I, q. 27.
⁷ Scott Harrower, Trinitarian Self and Salvation: An Evangelical Engagement with Rahner's Rule (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2012).
⁸ Kathryn Tanner, “The Trinity as Christian Teaching,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Trinity, ed. Gilles Emery and Matthew Levering (Oxford: Oxford University, 2011), 353–54.
⁹ Fred Sanders, The Image of the Immanent Trinity: Rahner's Rule and the Theological Interpretation of Scripture (New York: Peter Lang, 2004); Kathryn Tanner, Christ the Key (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 180.
¹⁰ Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, vol. 3 (New York: Seabury, 1983), 13–15.
¹¹ Randal Rauser, “Rahner’s Rule: An Emperor without Clothes?” IJST 7 (2005): 81–94.
¹² Bruce D. Marshall, Trinity and Truth (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 263–65.
¹³ Basil of Caesarea, On the Holy Spirit; Gregory of Nazianzus, Orations; Gregory of Nyssa, On Not Three Gods.
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