Trinity Sunday
May 22, 2016
I speak to you in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Or, wait, I speak to you in the name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Or how about in the name of God: Rock, Redeemer, and Friend. Or maybe God: The One to Whom, the One by Whom, and the One in Whom we offer our praise. Or should we just keep it simple: I speak to you in the name of the Trinity, one God. Whatever that means. Amen.
If you didn’t see it on the bulletin you’ve probably caught on by now that it’s Trinity Sunday. The only day on the Christian calendar devoted to a doctrine rather than an event or person. Today we celebrate that the Christian Godhead is one God in three persons: traditionally termed Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In other words, 1+1+1=1.
This week my clergy friends on Facebook have been bemoaning their sermon-writing. As one put it: “The Trinity Sunday sermon is like the story of the three bears and you are Goldilocks trying to explain the mystery of why they left their food out to get stale and cold. Or maybe it’s like the three little kittens who lost their mittens and you are the mother who must reconcile their behavior.”
Interestingly, the word Trinity never appears in the Bible. Jesus didn’t talk about it, in that way and neither did Paul, the Church’s first theologian. And yet it’s all over our liturgy. Later this morning, we’ll baptize little Zoe Hahn in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. We’ll end our Eucharistic prayer in a similar way. And my blessing after that, too. We throw the Trinity around as if we know what we’re talking about.
But do we?
Mostly, the doctrine of the Trinity seems to leave us with questions. Like, how can God be both one and three? How can God the father be his own son? If Jesus is God, who is he talking to when he prays? I’m sure you all could come up with some of your own.
That we are left with more questions than answers when we think about the Trinity is no surprise given that the doctrine was created completely out of controversy. The doctrine of the Trinity is often seen as a defense to heresies.
Like Arianism - the belief that Jesus was created by God rather than being God himself and therefore is a lesser God.
And there’s Modalism - the idea that Father, Son and Holy Spirit aren’t three distinct persons of God but rather are 3 forms in which God expresses God’s self.
And Partialism - the idea that Father, Son and Holy Spirit are three parts of God that together make up one whole, rather than three distinct persons that are all equally God.
And so, in the 4th Century, at the Council of Nicea, the Nicene Creed came into being. “We believe in one God.” “We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ… of one Being with the Father.” “We believe in the Holy Spirit” who “with the Father and the Son … is worshipped and glorified.” Later, a Creed called the Athanasian Creed, which we, thankfully do not say, made it all even more clear: “We worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; neither confounding the persons; nor dividing the essence.” In case there was any question about the importance of the doctrine of the Trinity, this Creed added forebodingly, “Which Faith except everyone do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.” Yikes.
Maybe this is why I’ve never preached on Trinity Sunday. Apparently, the risk of heresy and everlasting damnation are real and present dangers!
Lots of Latin and Greek words get thrown around when the Trinity comes up in theological circles. It tends to feel very remote and academic. Until, that is, people whip out their metaphors to help explain how three distinct things can really be fully one thing. Like the trinity of H2O - ice, gas, and water. Or the trinity of an apple - flesh, skin, and core. Or the trinity of the Sun - star, light, and heat. Or the egg - Egg yolk, egg white, shell. Or there’s always St. Patrick’s 3 leaf clover. Of course, all these metaphors come crashing down on closer inspection. They mostly fall into one or another of the heresies I mentioned earlier. And besides, do any of those make you feel closer to God? Do any of those strengthen your faith or improve your spiritual life?
It’s hard to feel like the doctrine of the Trinity really matters very much. It makes the ending of our collects longer. It confuses our syntax and frustrates our pronouns. It makes Jews, Muslims and Unitarians think we’re just making stuff up. But it doesn’t seem to affect our lives very much.
The pieces matter, certainly. I’m pretty sure we understand and can relate to one or more of the three persons of the Trinity. Maybe we’ve experienced God as a Creator and loving parent figure who provides for us. And/or, maybe we feel closer to God who came among us as Jesus who demonstrates unconditional love and shows us how to live. And/or, maybe we’ve felt the power of God as Wisdom or Spirit who enlivens the Church and the people of God.
But the doctrine that tries to pin down how these three are all equally God and still all one — that can feel a lot like counting the angels dancing on the head of a pin.
And yet I understand why we do it. Like so many of our theological discussions, the doctrine of the Trinity stems from our very human longing to understand God. And it comes from our well-intentioned trying to put into words our experience of God who is diverse and yet still one.
Maybe we’ve just been looking at it all wrong!
For centuries we’ve seen the doctrine of the Trinity as something something abstract and academic, describing the unknowable inner workings of the Godhead. Something we have to believe to be in. We picture, maybe, a tight group of 3, unreachable, unattainable, isolated from creation.
Maybe it would look something like this:
But what if instead of being something to fight about, a litmus test for who is in and who is out, we let the doctrine of the Trinity transform us? What if the Trinity has nothing to do with definitions and dogma and arcane, unknowable theology but is actually all about relationship? Maybe what the doctrine of the Trinity captures is that because God is love, God cannot be self-contained and solitary. Instead, from all eternity, God has existed as diverse, unique persons united in a love so powerful that the three persons are utterly one.
My favorite theologian on the subject is Catherine LaCugna, who describes the life of the Trinity as a sort of divine circle dance – the three persons of God engaged in life together, without beginning or end, joy beyond all telling; no hierarchy or confusion.
Maybe it would look something like this:
But this relationship doesn’t end with God. It is always outstretched. The Trinity isn’t just about who God is in God’s self, but who God is with us and who God wants us to be with each other. God isn’t just in communion amongst God’s self – God is in our midst, longing for communion with us also. We are invited to enter into the divine circle dance - the beat echoes in our ears and runs through our veins - the circle breaks open and draws us in.
Maybe that would look something like this.
But it doesn’t stop there. We are created in God’s image, and therefore created for relationship. We aren’t just invited into the dance. We are called to dance with others that are already part of the swirling motion and to invite others in as well. Some of whom will be, undoubtedly, as unlike us as we can imagine. Loving each other is how we participate in the life of God. Just like God, we aren’t meant for isolation or self-centeredness; relationship with God and each other is at the core of who we are too. It isn’t what we “know” or “believe” about the Trinity that matters, it’s how we enact it in our lives.
I wonder what that could look like?
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