**5. Seeing the Form**

Revelation anchors von Balthasar's theology. For von Balthasar, humans interpret the God who has revealed Godself dynamically through loving action in history. *Theo-Drama* occupies the middle panel of von Balthasar's great theological triptych. Each part, further divided into multiple volumes, correlates reflection on God's self-revelation according to philosophical transcendentals of being—Beauty in *The Glory of the Lord*, Goodness in *Theo-Drama*, and Truth in *Theo-Logic*. Each part develops an accompanying theological method—aesthetics, dramatics, and logic, respectively, for Beauty, Goodness, and Truth. The unity of the single project across its many disparate parts expresses the philosophical transcendental of Oneness.

Von Balthasar's writing operates according to what Anne M. Carpenter identifies as a theo-poetic style: "*what he means* and *how he means it* are central concerns. The 'what' is theological truth, and the 'how' is a perplexing combination of theological and poetic language" (Carpenter 2015, p. 3, emphasis original). Drama speculates on God in the light of Goodness that prompts considerations of God's action and the human position in its midst (drama) rather than God's appearance (aesthetics) or God's utterance (logic) (Balthasar 1988, p. 18). Good actions *give freely.* Theatre, in its presentation of the drama of human existence, provides analogous structures with which to think theologically: one needs to "play" Christian theology within the givenness of the world of theodramatic play. That is, von Balthasar's theodramatic approach demands the imaginative assent of the interpreter to God's initiative: doing theology is like doing improv. My scene partner (or a script) suggests some "given circumstances" and actors need to respond with actions that *fit within* that given world. My impersonation of a bunny making a big, steaming bowl of carrot soup will change rapidly when another actor replies "Yes, and we need to hide it from the hungry bears on the roof!" Without any rehearsal or hesitation, I become responsible to hop to it and play interpretive choices that work here and now with what I have been given.<sup>32</sup> Such acting—often surprising and funny—openly receives and inhabits the world that is given. The improvising actor co-creates the theatrical world by choosing to play along. So too for theodramatics: there can be "no external standpoint" outside the drama of God's action in history (Balthasar 1990, p. 54ff). God's drama "so overarches everything, from the beginning to the end, that there is no standpoint from which we could observe and portray events as if we were uninvolved narrators of an epic. [ . . . ] In this play, all the spectators must eventually become fellow actors, whether they wish to or not" (Balthasar 1990, p. 58). Even God's inner life, the Trinity, becomes the wider drama within which created history unfolds: "our play 'plays' in his play" (Balthasar 1988, p. 20).<sup>33</sup>

Much has been written about von Balthasar's influence on contemporary Catholic and Christian theology, but less work has focused on his theological dramatic theory in dialogue with contemporary theatre and performance.<sup>34</sup> Some Balthasarian resonances with *White Rabbit Red Rabbit* may be already

<sup>32</sup> For Konstantin Stanislavki "the circumstances, which for the dramatist are *supposed* for us actors are *imposed,* they are a given. And so we have created the term Given Circumstances" in (Stanislavski 2008, p. 52), emphasis original. On the "yes and" rule in improv, see (Frost and Yarrow 2007, pp. 144, 219). For von Balthasar on Stanislavki and what is given to the actor, see (Balthasar 1988, p. 279); on the "extemporaneous play", see (Balthasar 1988, p. 179).

<sup>33</sup> For a challenge to the coherence of von Balthasar's theological style, see (Kilby 2012, pp. 64–65).

<sup>34</sup> Certainly, drama remains a keyword for Balthasar studies. The most substantial contribution on his dramatic theory remains the German language collection "Theodrama and Theatricality" (Kapp et al. 2000). For the importance of drama to von Balthasar's philosophy, see (Schindler 2004). Theological dramatic theory gives Todd Walatka room to find greater

apparent, such as how the *singular* conceit of every performance of Soleimanpour's play offers a microcosm of the singularity of salvation history and the deadly high-stakes of free action. At the same time, a Balthasarian reading of the Iranian experimental playwright seems an odd, perhaps exploitative, choice. Soleimanpour does not identify as a Catholic, and the history of Iranian theatre includes far more influence from Islam than Catholicism.<sup>35</sup> As already mentioned, the play presents few overtly religious symbols. But I contend that the play's *structure* might be usefully interpreted in Balthasarian theodramatic terms. He gives us many theodramatic themes to choose, but I will restrict myself to the following five: "theatre of the world", dramatic roles, freedom, obedience, and sacrificial death.

*Theatrum mundi*. Perhaps the most obvious connection between *Theo-Drama* and *White Rabbit Red Rabbit* regards its use of the image of the "world-stage" or "theatre of the world" image, familiar from medieval drama, Shakespeare, Calderon, and others. The first volume of *Theo-Drama* samples the development of the *theatrum mundi* image in an eclectic survey of European dramatic literatures. The stage uniquely presents the predicament of created being: "theatre—expressly seen as 'theatre of the world'—is an image that is substantially more than an image: it is a 'symbol of the world,' a mirror in which existence can directly behold itself" (Balthasar 1988, p. 249).<sup>36</sup> Theological dramatic theory proposes to interpret the entire history of creation as a performance on the world-stage on which God joins. The world-stage metaphor lends *Theo-Drama* what I would call a performative ontology: creation exists only insofar as it plays with and in God. For von Balthasar, the world-stage embraces the Christian theological vision of *creatio continua* (a theme where God *continually* creates the world, and so is present at every moment in its history). Such is also the temporality of performance foregrounded by *White Rabbit Red Rabbit*: "From now on we are ALL present" (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 2) when "the actor (me), the audience (you), and writer (me)" (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 1) come into contact. What matters is the *event* of performance, not the "mute" script; only in performance, during Showtime, can the actor and writer both be "me". The world-stage metaphor emphasizes the givenness and goodness of creation for Christian theology as well as the spectator-theologian's situation *within* the drama of history. Created time and God's eternity meet in action. Dramatic temporality offers von Balthasar language to name how the Christ enfolds created time into God's very life: God's eternal becoming as an event in what von Balthasar calls "supertime" (Balthasar 1998, p. 32).

*Dramatis personae*. *Theo-Drama* concerns itself not only with dramatic stories and images but also with the phenomenon of theatrical performance. As such, von Balthasar also takes keen interest in human roleplaying and the various roles of the theatrical ensemble: author, actor, and director.<sup>37</sup> I have already mentioned the ways in which any interpretation of God's action emerges from fellow actors on the world-stage. God intervenes in human history by stepping onto the world-stage as its leading player. Jesus quite literally saves the show, and *Theo-Drama* provides tools to think through the Christ's roles. The actor finds identity *in* the mission of playing their role on stage; humans find their identity in their mission to be disciples of the Christ. "The closer a man comes to this identity, the more perfectly does he play his part" (Balthasar 1990, p. 14). Where social roles might become closed loops and traps, sending and mission actualizes identity. So too, every "spectating" audience to Soleimanpour's play gets brought up into the event of its performance, in the image the prototypical actor. Roles prepare for missions; Number 5 makes the poison drink, everyone gets sent forth from the hall. To understand "Who am I?" requires freely acting the role that I am sent to play in the world.<sup>38</sup>

compatibility between von Balthasar and liberationist themes about preference for the marginalized and concern for economic justice in (Walatka 2017).

<sup>35</sup> (See Floor 2005) In an e-mail interview, Soleimanpour avers, "I think I have stronger roots in Iranian Literature [than Ibsen or Beckett]" (Mapari 2017).

<sup>36</sup> The phrase perhaps includes an uncited allusion to Hamlet's mirror held up to nature (Shakespeare 2006b, III.2) as well as the quoted reference to the title of Eugen Fink's *Spiel als Weltsymbol* (Fink [1960 ] 2016).

<sup>37</sup> (Cf. Balthasar 1988, p. 481ff) on everyday roleplaying founds in dramaturgical psychology and sociology; von Balthasar begins this section by quoting (Goffman 1959).

<sup>38</sup> This question organizes the section on the transition from role to mission in (Balthasar 1988, p. 493ff).

At the same time, von Balthasar finds a trinitarian analogy in the logical *procession* of the theatrical roles of author, actor, and director.<sup>39</sup> Chronologically, too, the practice of a separate, off-stage director emerged rather late in theatre history.<sup>40</sup> But the logical procession of theatrical roles demonstrates by analogy points of Christian doctrine and its speculations on the eternal movement of the Trinity. None of the co-equally divine persons can be "older" than another, but their relationships might be logically ordered. I cannot offer a detailed summary of von Balthasar's trinitarian theology here as it is so central to his theological project; I will restrict my comments to the triad of author, actor, and director as an analogue to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.<sup>41</sup> For von Balthasar, understanding the movement of these roles *within* God's triune life (processions) provides the clue as to how to understand their work on the world-stage (missions).<sup>42</sup> The invisible Author-Father acts as the first principle of theatrical movement that *sends* the visible Actor-Son into the world (Balthasar 1988, p. 279). Because God so loves the world, God the Father sends God the Son in a revelatory and free gift *pro nobis,* "for us". The procession-mission functions like the *sending of the word* from the author to the actor in Soleimanpour: "loudly speaking ME . . . for YOU" (56).<sup>43</sup> But the Author-Father and Actor-Son share a common will aligned by the Director-Spirit.<sup>44</sup> The Director-Spirit *proceeds* from the ultimate unity of the Author-Father and Actor-Son and assures co-identity between the author and the actor in the performance event. Obviously, the analogical triad of author, actor, and director differs significantly from the Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in Christian theology.<sup>45</sup> The former theatrical triad ordinarily implies three persons in three distinct people; the latter theological mystery remains three divine persons who are always already *one* God. In *White Rabbit Red Rabbit,* the author, actor, and director *unite* in the single performance of the play, revealed to and for the audience exclusively in the visible *action* of the actor "for us". Soleimanpour provides another "dramatic resource" for Christological-Trinitarian theodramatics beyond the stylings of theatrical naturalism.

*Freedom*. Drama stages conflict including a contest of wills. The dramatic tension at the center of Christian theology consists in the confrontation between divine and human freedom: God's absolute decision to be in faithful, covenant relationship with the world and the potential for a free human refusal of God's good gifts (Balthasar 1990, pp. 252–53, 301–2).<sup>46</sup> Soleimanpour makes similar space for rejection in his instructions to the actor: if an audience member refuses to play along that role simply changes to another *free* volunteer, "But it is important to maintain the SAME NUMBER!" (Soleimanpour 2017). Freedom expresses itself through interacting roles. Von Balthasar's dramatic

<sup>39</sup> The analysis of authors, actors, and directors appears on (Balthasar 1988, pp. 268–305). Note phrases throughout that resemble trinitarian theology as "This primacy of unity in the author is ontological" (Balthasar 1988, p. 269).

<sup>40</sup> See (Balthasar 1988, p. 298n1), where von Balthasar shows his awareness of this *chronological* procession but chooses to leave it untreated. Similarly, von Balthasar does not theorize other members of the theatre company that stretch beyond the triad: designers, managers, dramaturgs, stagehands.

<sup>41</sup> Von Balthasar's trinitarian imagery is always subtler and rarely so blatant as I here imply. Some moments are more explicit, see (Balthasar 1988, pp. 268–69, 280). I have elsewhere argued that one can map his theatrical triad from *Theo-Drama* first volume directly onto the trinitarian theology that appears in volume three and five. (See Gillespie 2019.)

<sup>42</sup> The principle that the *procession* gives a clue to *mission* is Thomistic, and it allows von Balthasar to further analyze the coincidence of *person* and *mission* in Jesus the Christ. (See Scola 1995, p. 58.)

<sup>43</sup> See also the way Soleimanpour muses about the "private world" of writing "something SIMILAR to a play" (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 3). Drama only becomes a play in its performance by the actor.

<sup>44</sup> "Between the dramatic poet and the actor there yawns a gulf that can be bridged only by a third party who will take responsibility for the play's performance, for making it present here and now" (Balthasar 1988, p. 298). The director's role will be to integrate the author and actor: "its whole raison d'être consists in the way it mediates between them" (Balthasar 1988, pp. 298–99).

<sup>45</sup> Difference, especially sexual difference, is a key theme in von Balthasar's theology. Trinitarian procession later becomes explicitly gendered in von Balthasar's *Theo-Drama*. Linn Marie Tonstad finds problems in von Balthasar's active-passive hierarchy that becomes his symbolically sexualized Trinity. For Tonstad, von Balthasar's theology is not only flawed in its construal of the hierarchical relationships between Trinitarian relations, but these missteps concretize in the potential divinization of (worldly) masculinity vis-à-vis the exclusive creatureliness of (worldly) femininity (Tonstad 2016, p. 45).

<sup>46</sup> Theological dramatic theory gives space for the realization of a real encounter between divine-infinite and human-finite freedom: "we must assert that unconditional (divine) freedom in no way threatens the existence of conditional (creaturely) freedom, at whatever historical stage the latter may find itself—whether it is close to the former, alienated from it or coming back to its real self" (Balthasar 1990, p. 119). For a major discussion of these themes (Dalzell 2000).

language shows this contest playing out across the drama of history to be *freedom-in-relationship* and not some mechanistic tragedy binding God and world to a pre-determined "fate" (Balthasar 1990, p. 196). Human freedom operates like the relational quality of the Trinity; true freedom makes room for others.<sup>47</sup> Therefore, God's will for the world is not like the "fate" of the Greek tragedies but, rather, a call to intimate fellowship, bolder action, and unique importance in the role for each person (Balthasar 1990, p. 296). But where ordinary social roles might become closed loops and traps, missions actualize identity in freedom. Dramatic language highlights the particularity and importance of each human response because freedom, understood theodramatically, reflects the act-quality of God's Triune inner life (Balthasar 1990, p. 256). Freedom becomes dramatic only in action, hence why theodramatics help von Balthasar understand and interpret the God who is an eternal free act of love. Theatre-making requires similar room for free improvisation. A balance between infinite and finite freedom appears in how the actors in *White Rabbit Red Rabbit* make their own free choices that could never have been intended or fated by Soleimanpour's script. The play depends on the freedom for improvisation of its actors: "Honestly, I don't know WHAT this actor is doing" (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 3). The play's author also expresses something that "tastes like FREEDOM" from political and temporal fixedness: drama escapes ordinary finitude insofar as the play and its "timeless travel" through space and time "with no need for a passport" in ways the historical Soleimanpour could not (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 21).

*Obedience*. Divine-infinite freedom calls for human-finite freedom's obedience. So too on stage. The free improvising of *White Rabbit Red Rabbit*'s theatrical realization points to its structural and thematic emphasis on obedience. The play anticipates and requires obedience to the mission of the script. Disobeying the script stops the performance, even though Soleimanpour makes room for improvised jokes and commentary that divert from the printed word. To continue, the text must be freely obeyed. The instructions to the actor include how "You might think you want to add something. If so, that's fine. But tell the audience its yours" (Soleimanpour 2017). (This might be signaled with a physical choice: at the performance I saw, the actor raised a hand whenever deviating from Soleimanpour's script.) So too, von Balthasar's theology hinges on free obedience to mission. Obedience is "becoming transparent to one's mission" (Balthasar 1988, p. 289). In another sense, however, von Balthasar sees theatrical obedience to be reciprocal: "We must reject any suggestion that would make the actor into the author's servant and equally any that would degrade the author to the level of a mere cobbler of plays for the actor" (Balthasar 1988, p. 283). The Director-Spirit holds freedom and obedience together and works to make the performance interpretation relevant for the present audience.<sup>48</sup> The Actor-Son performs in perfect obedience to the will of the Author-Father. Freedom, then, finds expression in the kenotic obedience of the Christ or Soleimanpour's actors. Even bracketing theological overtones, Soleimanpour's play confounds the assumption that freedom and obedience are contradictions in terms. The improvisatory play of such red rabbits will be both free and obedient at the same time: "MAY GOD SAVE YOU!" (Soleimanpour 2017, p. 24).

*Sacrificial Death*. As von Balthasar writes, "It follows quite naturally that if, obedient to his mission, a person goes out into a world that is not only ungodly but hostile to God, he will be led to the experience of Godforsakenness" (Balthasar 1988, p. 647). The Christ, the Actor-Son, plays a human script that ends in sacrificial death. Like the finale to *White Rabbit Red Rabbit*, obedience to the will of the Author-Father includes the real possibility of death: "infinite freedom appears on the stage in the form of Jesus Christ's 'lowliness' and 'obedience unto death'" (Balthasar 1990, p. 250). The final volume of the *Theo-Drama* makes much of the Christ's willingness to endure the Godforsakenness of

<sup>47</sup> The finite freedom of existence consists in the ability to say "I am unique, but only by making room for countless others to be unique" (Balthasar 1990, p. 209).

<sup>48</sup> The director guides the play like the Holy Spirit guides the modern church toward a "valid *aggiornamento*" (Balthasar 1988, p. 303).

rejection on the cross, death, and in descent into hell.<sup>49</sup> The interpretive key for von Balthasar is always the Christ's cry of dereliction and abandonment: "my God, my God, why have your forsaken me" (cf. Psalm 22:1, Mark 15:34, Matt. 27:46). This "total self-giving" over into Godforsakenness by God the Son becomes a divine "super-death", a "radical 'kenosis'" that lets go without holding onto any remainder (Balthasar 1998, p. 84).<sup>50</sup> Theodrama always happens against the horizon of the final act, of sacrifice and death.

For von Balthasar, the Christ's obedience unto death occurs *without* any consoling knowledge of future resurrection. The Christ, as the incarnate Son of God, freely surrenders divinity back to God in solidarity with creatures. Von Balthasar calls this the Christ's "laying up" of his "divine power and glory" with God the Father where he says "this concept only summarizes" the kenotic hymn in Philippians 2 (Balthasar 1998, p. 257).<sup>51</sup> Kenotic "laying up" permits von Balthasar to talk about the Christ's absent foreknowledge of the resurrection because "the Father's presence was so veiled that the Son experienced God-forsakenness" (Balthasar 1998, p. 257). The horror of crucifixion and abandonment and travel into unknown hellish territory would be truly human experiences.<sup>52</sup> Like the actor in *White Rabbit Red Rabbit* who obediently drinks a poisoned draught in deference to the will of the writer, so too does the Christ obediently defer to God the Father's will and drink from a cup that leads to death (cf. Matt. 26:39, Mark 14:36, Luke 22:42).<sup>53</sup> Parallels abound between the obedience and suicide plot in *White Rabbit Red Rabbit* and the Passion narrative of the Christ's kenotic self-sacrifice. Theodramatics give language to the play's mysterious and risky encounters with the unknown. Like von Balthasar's Jesus, Soleimanpour's actors "lay up" theatrical foreknowledge in solidarity with the audience. The audience disperses like the disciples, newly formed "red rabbits". Soleimanpour's play ends on the Balthasrian "Holy Saturday", and, like von Balthasar, we can only speculate about the actor's inner experience of theatrical forsakenness and "super-death". Even the script suggests that the actor may want to linger and reflect for a moment in the liminal space at the end of the show.
