2 Co 13:11-13

26 May 2002

Trinity Sunday

 

“A Trilogy of Blessing”

 

            Last week, I said that Pentecost is often overlooked.  This day, Trinity Sunday, is in even worse shape.  Besides the fact that most people don’t pay attention to the Christian calendar to begin with, there’s something else that I suspect has caused Trinity Sunday to be ignored.  It has to do with the way it’s often presented:  as the one day that is dedicated to a theological doctrine of the church, as opposed to an event in the life of Christ.

            I’m sorry, but even as someone who’s interested in theology, I find that to be a big yawn!  Surely we can do better than that.  If that’s the best we can say about Trinity Sunday, then it should be forgotten!  What about a day that celebrates the mystery of who God is?  And if you don’t like that, how about a celebration of the mystical number 3, which seems to appear in every culture?  Or, can we see Trinity Sunday as presenting the perfect community of love?  Surely that’s better than “a theological doctrine of the church”!

            After all, it is true that, with the Holy Trinity, we have the very definition of community.  We have the perfect example of koinwnia (koinōnia)—of communion, of fellowship.  In this community, everyone abides by the law of love.  No one prefers self before others.  The desire is to be a blessing.

            Speaking of blessing, the last verse of 2 Corinthians should be familiar to you.  I hope it is, since that’s the benediction I always use in Sunday worship services.  Of course, there are many benedictions, or blessings (which is what “benediction” means), such as the one in Numbers 6:  “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace” (vv. 24-26).  But I especially like this Trinitarian benediction, both for its simplicity and for its depth.

            It’s included at the end of Paul’s farewell to the Corinthian church, one that has given him no end of grief.  He’s had to get after them for being too lax, and then for being too strict.  They’ve split themselves up into competing factions; they’ve treated the poor with disrespect; they’ve tuned in to the latest fad instead of paying attention to the apostle; they’ve done these and many other things.  To their credit, one thing they haven’t been is boring!  But through it all, Paul has consistently guided them in, and to, the love and peace of Jesus Christ.

            In fact, he tells them how “the God of love and peace will be with” them.  That’s what verse 11 is all about.  First of all, when he says, “Put things in order,” he’s not doing a Martha Stewart imitation!  He’s not being a neat freak; the order he’s talking about comes from treating each other the right way.  Paul wants to avoid the disorder that has so often characterized their inter-relational dynamics.  Case in point:  the zoo that has been their observance of the Lord’s Supper.  (See 1 Co 11 for more about that.)

            Secondly, his plea to “listen to my appeal” is a plea to learn humility.  The Corinthians need to understand that good advice can come from an outside observer.  Then, when Paul says “agree with one another,” he’s not hoping that they’ll act like clones.  Instead, they need to support decisions that have been properly made and respect those whose task it is to carry them out.  These things, as well as a genuine desire to help each other, will enable them to “live in peace.”

            In verse 12, the apostle adds this:  “Greet one another with a holy kiss.”  He says this in several letters.  This is where our “kiss of peace” comes from.  And for anyone who’s ever wondered why, the vast majority of the time, we don’t actually kiss each other—besides concerns about inappropriate contact—there’s also the fact that fairly early in church history, the liturgical practice of men kissing women (who were not their wives, and vice versa) was abandoned.

Still, the idea remains for it being a moment to express to our sisters and brothers in Christ the bond of love and peace we share with them.  It’s not a time for idle chit-chat.  It’s not a time for Mr. or Ms. Glad Hand!  Even if you don’t utter the words, “The peace of Christ be with you,” our approach to each other should reflect the reconciliation that new life in Christ brings.  Peace with God in Christ leads to peace with the creation, and that includes each other.  That’s why it’s not a time to simply exchange pleasantries.  That’s also why it makes more sense theologically to have the kiss of peace after the prayer of confession and assurance of God’s pardon.

            In any event, maybe you can see why this epistle reading is used for Trinity Sunday.  With the Trinitarian benediction, we get a triple blessing—a trilogy of blessing.  Something similar is going on with our gospel text in Matthew, the so-called “great commission.”  The baptismal formula of “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” makes it an ideal reading for today.

            Of course, I could get overly technical and point out, as does Francis Beare, that the command in verse 19, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,” probably means that this is a later addition.  He says, “Obviously enough, if any such command had been known to the apostles, and to the early church, they would not have debated about the legitimacy of such a mission,” as they do throughout the book of Acts.[1]  As I say, I could get overly technical and point that out, but I won’t!  Instead, I’ll invite us to look at what that means for us today.

            A question that’s unfortunately not often associated with making disciples is this one:  what does the Holy Trinity mean in our lives?  Admittedly, it’s a hard one to pin down, especially when so much discussion of the Trinity looks at ways of examination.  You know what I mean:  the Holy Trinity is like the three states of H2O, or the Trinity is like different modes of being—for example, me as son, brother, and husband.  That might be an intellectual curiosity, but it’s not terribly helpful!

            An image that might be more meaningful is one I suggested earlier—the Holy Trinity as the example of the perfect community of love.  That has ramifications for all of life, including the call to make disciples.  Then it won’t be just a song:  they really will “know we are Christians by our love.”

            I have to confess, though; I don’t know what I’m talking about!  I say the words, “perfect community of love,” but I have only the scarcest idea what that means.  Am I qualified to be part of such a community?  I don’t think so.  But then, I say a lot of things I don’t understand—for example, the charge I always give you, “Go forth in peace to love and serve the Lord.”  And then the benediction:  “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”  Do any of us fathom the immense depth of those words?

            Well, it’s been said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  And it is a picture, more specifically an icon, that I want us to consider.  On the cover of your bulletin is a reproduction of “The Trinity,” by Andrei Rublev.

            In his excellent book, Praying with Icons, Jim Forest says this of Rublev’s work:  “If one were to search for a single word to describe the icon, it is the word ‘love.’  The Holy Trinity itself is a community of love so perfect that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one.  All creation is a manifestation of God’s love.  The Incarnation of Christ is an act of love as is every word and action that follows, even if at times it is what [the Russian novelist] Dostoevsky calls ‘a harsh and dreadful love.’”[2]

            Forest goes on from there.  Over the centuries, many gallons of ink have been spilled over descriptions of the icon—and over ideas that the icon has inspired.  At first glance, I wondered what the big deal was.  Why all the fuss about a picture?  But it was just that:  a first glance.  I hadn’t taken the time to be with the icon, to pray with it, to let it speak to me.

            Forest finishes his discussion of the icon in what I thought is a surprising way.  He says, “’Of all the philosophical proofs of the existence of God,’ wrote the priest and scientist Pavel Florensky, who died a martyr’s death in the Stalin era, ‘that which carries the most conviction is not mentioned in any textbook.  It may be summarized as follows:  “Rublev’s Holy Trinity icon exists, therefore God exists.”’”[3]

            At times I feel a sense of…almost despair about our culture, about us.  We’re in such a hurry that we rarely take the time to pay attention to things like icons, like art, like love, like God.  We’re nervous, and we hire our church growth gurus to give us the right techniques.

            Irish poet John O’Donohue has reflected on this.  “In our western culture life has become so externalized that the self has grown ever more hollow…There is no hospitality towards the awkward and shy nature of real human presence.  Our age has no patience with presence.  Instead it is obsessed with image…Driven by the flash of image and the bark of the sound bite, public discourse has little room for imagination, critique or vision.  Words become cheap and dull when used to hold the real questions in a limbo out of reach…The culture has become saturated with the trivia dreamed up by consumerism.”[4]

            In case it seems that O’Donohue is just another clever guy with nothing constructive to offer, he gives us this:  “At its deepest level individuality is shaped in the image of the Trinity…The world and its humans did not invent themselves.  They were imagined and formed and sent here by the Trinity.  Everything that is is within the Trinity; for there is nothing outside God.”[5]

            In a few moments, we’ll sing the hymn, “O Lord, Our God, How Excellent,” which is based on today’s psalm reading, Psalm 8.  The second stanza goes, “The heavens shout Your handiwork; / We stand beneath in awe, / To think the One who made all things / Should care for us at all.”

            We are surrounded by blessing, even if you’re like me and don’t understand it!  Trinity Sunday reminds us that we are not alone.  In one of my favorite verses in the entire Bible, Jesus says in our gospel reading to “remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20).  The blessing given to us—the benediction pronounced over us—both reassures us and calls us to action.

            I’ll close with something I shared on Wednesday night.  It’s an excerpt from a meditation on Rublev’s “Trinity” by Andrew Rudd, one of the many I mentioned earlier that have been done throughout the centuries.

            “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 traveller.  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.”[6]

         We are the prodigal, the wasteful, who seem to make a habit of squandering opportunities of joining the Trinity’s blessed community.  The prodigal are all around us, in a nation that celebrates excess, a nation that encourages waste.  But the community that is the Trinity is ever faithful, ever patient with us foolish creatures.  The invitation remains open for us too, to be a blessing.


 


[1] Francis Beare, The Gospel According to Matthew (Peabody, MA:  Hendrickson, 1981), 544.

[2] Jim Forest, Praying with Icons (Maryknoll, NY:  Orbis Books, 1997), 99.

[3] Forest, 100.

[4] John O’Donohue, “To Awaken the Divinity Within:  Towards a New Theory of Evangelization,” 265.

[5] O’Donohue, 269.

[6] business.virgin.net/sound.houses/rublev/rublev.htm

 

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