Gospel: John 16:12-15
Trinity Sunday: the one day each year when clergy try more than usual to avoid being labeled heretics by theological experts.
This is without question one of the trickiest Sundays for a preacher to step into the pulpit. How in the world are we supposed to talk about the Trinity, something that’s literally one of the most illogical, abstract concepts imaginable? I’ve talked about this in previous years, remarking how senior clergy in many churches avoid this task by working out the schedule so that an associate priest or seminarian is “gifted” the opportunity to preach on this day. (A clergy friend of mine once said they’d served as an associate pastor for the first half of their ministry and looking back the only Sunday they preached more than the one after Easter was Trinity Sunday.) There are even some (or perhaps many) who won’t preach about the Trinity at all, avoiding that rocky path and opting for one that’s smoother.
For those who don’t spend the requisite amount of time on sermon preparation, reading, and research, there’s a great risk to throw in – accidentally or otherwise – a flawed analogy. Perhaps you’ve heard an example of one of these mistakes before, such as the one stating the Trinity is like water: it can exist in liquid, solid, or gas, and yet in all three forms it’s still water. Wrong, wrong, wrong. (For those of us needing a nudge in the right direction, we’re grateful for a great YouTube video – “St. Patrick’s Bad Analogies” – that in recent years has taken on almost legendary status among clergy.)
When one does engage in deep reading about the doctrine of the Trinity, however, they’ll find themselves struggling with some very convoluted writing. Take this one from Saint Augustine, for instance: “A knowledge which is greater than its object implies a superiority in the nature of the knower to that of the known: the knowledge of a body is greater than the body which is the object of the knowledge.”[1]
Or consider this gem, part of a statement written by a group of 17 bishops and two deacons at a Spanish council in 675:
Although we profess three persons, we do not profess three substances, but one substance and three persons. For the Father is Father not with respect to Himself but to the Son, and the Son is Son not to Himself but in relation to the Father; and likewise the Holy Spirit is not referred to Himself but is related to the Father and the Son, inasmuch as He is called the Spirit of the Father and the Son.[2]
Perfectly clear and understandable, right?
Judaism, in which the earliest followers of Jesus were rooted, is a monotheistic religion, something reflected in one of the best-known prayers, the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.”[3] Or in another translation, “Here, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord.”[4] Looking back from a later point, though, it was possible to see the three “persons” of God at work throughout history: God the Godhead; God the Son; and God the Holy Spirit. By the second century, debates were underway to try and determine how to reconcile monotheism with a clear understanding of how the persons of God related and operated, both with one another and with creation.
The Council of Nicaea, the 1,700th anniversary of which is being recognized this year, was the point when the Church developed its first real statement of Trinitarian faith (while also squashing the heresies of interpretation that I mentioned are still the fear of clergy today). We’ll again share in reciting that statement – that creed – in a few minutes, but in its original form it read in part
We believe in one God, Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father, only-begotten, that is, from the substance of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten not made … And in the Holy Spirit.[5]
I realize this is a lot to take in, and because of how much there is to cover I’m already considering a fall adult forum series on Nicaea and the concept of the Trinity. For this morning, though, and for this brief four-verse passage from John, what should be your takeaway? What’s speaking to you in these verses? My focus as I worked on this sermon was drawn to verse 13: “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” He will guide you into all the truth.
On the first Pentecost the appearance of the Spirit was startling and certainly memorable – but the work of the Spirit didn’t end there. Those who were touched that day and filled with the Spirit were led by that same Spirit for the rest of their lives. You and I can experience moments when we’re touched by the Spirit, moments that can be just as startling and memorable. But for us too there’s more. The work of the Spirit in us doesn’t happen to us one time; it’s ongoing. When we’re filled with the Spirit, we undertake a lifetime journey that’s rolled out before us – one where we may not know what’s coming next. As one of my favorite seminary professors has said, we can think of this as a doctrine that is tied especially to revelation. I agree, and what I think is revealed to us is the truth of what is required of us as followers of Christ – and where we are being guided.
When people ask me what my ministry is based on, I quickly name three things: the Baptismal Covenant; the Book of Micah; and Matthew 25. Those collectively are my ministerial baseline, my calls to action: give food and drink; clothe; visit; teach; proclaim; engage in fellowship; do justice; be kind; walk humbly; respect; proclaim; and love. These are the places where I know the Spirit continues to guide me, no matter how difficult the tasks set before me may be – never mind the unknown places and tasks that haven’t yet been revealed to me.
What about you? Where do you feel the Spirit active in your life and leading you – and are your actions done out of love? What I’m about to say may be challenging to you, but it’s important that we consider that if we’re doing things or being led down paths that aren’t rooted in love, it may very well be that it’s not God’s spirit leading us. I’ll put it another way, a paraphrase of something I’ve heard before: If it’s not in the direction of love, it’s not at the direction of the Spirit.
I’m reminded of a wonderful verse from earlier in John, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”[6] With that in mind and as you await nudges from the Spirit, be mindful of the fact that you never know where or when those nudges will appear. Reading something that hits you in a particular way; listening to what others are saying; observing something new in nature; discovering a new fact in history; taking the time to live fully into our relationships – those of family and community; hearing the rush of a mighty wind; feeling the touch of a tongue of fire.
I close by offering a wonderful quote that I highlighted several years ago and is worth sharing this morning:
God is the invisible presence in the burning bush and on the top of Sinai, the one who guided Israel throughout its history, whom Jesus spoke to as his Father; God is the rabbi from Nazareth who proclaimed the kingdom, who was crucified and then raised from the dead, whom the disciples recognized as ‘Lord’; God is the sudden, irresistibly powerful Holy Spirit of Pentecost and of the continuing life of the church, the interior ‘advocate’ sent by Jesus from the Father to bear witness to him and to guide his followers ‘into all truth.’”[7]
We’ll never fully understand the mystery and enigma of the Trinity, but we should always be ready to feel its work in our lives. Remain open to what’s next. Be watchful for what’s next. Keep yourselves rooted in love. And remember: When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.
Amen.
[1] Excerpt from “Augustine on the Trinity.” Alister E. McGrath, ed. The Christian Theology Reader, p. 166.
[2] Excerpt from “The Eleventh Council of Toledo on the Trinity.” McGrath, p. 176.
[3] Deuteronomy 6:4 (NRSV).
[4] Deuteronomy 6:4 (KJV).
[5] Khaled Anatolios, Retrieving Nicaea: The Development and Meaning of Trinitarian Doctrine, p. 18.
[6] John 3:6 (NRSV).
[7] From the introduction by Brian E. Daley, SJ. Anatolios, p. xi.