Trinity Sunday - Year B June 3, 2012

Today is Trinity Sunday, a day that really good theologians struggle to explain the mystery of the Trinity.  And I wouldn’t consider myself a rigorous theologian, so I’ll offer a simple analogy, and then move on. 

I am one person.  Yet I have separate names, roles, and relationships with people, based on how I know them.  My kids know me as mom.  And I have a unique relationship with my kids, unlike any other relationships I have with anyone else.  And they have a unique name for me.   Similarly, I have a unique relationship with my husband.  I don’t have the same relationship with anyone else.  Family friends, high school friends, college friends. I have different relationship with people in different places and times of my life.  I am the same person in all cases.  And yet, they each know a different, unique facet of me.  Of course, I bring all of me to every relationship, but all they see is what we share at that time.  They don’t see or experience all of me; they don’t know them beyond what they know now.  

So that’s my simplistic explanation of the Trinity.  I am one person, and yet I have different names and characteristics and strengths at different times, to different people in my life.

Rather than stumble through any further simple explanations of the Trinity, I can, as the collect says, “acknowledge the glory of the Trinity, while worshiping the unity of one God”.   Holy, holy, holy.   The Trinity is a mystery that I don’t really understand, and can’t explain.  And if I did explain it, or could understand it, it would cease to be a mystery.  

Instead, I want to focus on what the Trinity means to us, here and now. 

For me, I interact with, pray to and petition the different persons of the Trinity differently.   Sometimes I petition God the maker, all powerful, all knowing, all protecting, because sometimes I need an immense, incomprehensible God, to be bigger than me and my troubles.   Other times, I seek solace in God the son, who understands my human emotions.  God the son loves us and shows us how to love, despite having seen ugliest side of humanity.  Still other times, I praise God the spirit, that wind that blows where it will. 

While it is one God, I perceive and petition the three persons of the Trinity distinctly, and am grateful for these different faces of God.  I don’t understand it, but I acknowledge the glory of the Trinity.

What I really find fascinating, however, is how the different persons of the Trinity interact with humanity.  The reading from Isaiah paints an awe-fulled image of God the creator’s  interaction with humanity.  God is sitting on the throne, surround by seraphim, six-winged celestial bodies. To purify Isaiah, a seraph takes a hot coal and places it on Isaiah’s lips.  After this unpleasantness, God asks, “whom shall I send?” and Isaiah, despite this scene, responds, “Here I am, send me”. 

What a simple and perfect response, when called by God.  “Here I am. Send me.” 

Meanwhile, Nicodemus, was called by God the son.   As a leader of the Jews, Nicodemus could have steered clear of Jesus, the trouble-making Jew, who was defying the status quo, defying Nicodemus’ status quo.  Instead, coming in the darkness, he came to talk to Jesus, to question him, to understand and learn from him.  He responded to Christ’s call, becoming more involved in Christ’s life, because later, he returns to Christ’s  story and assists in preparing his body for burial.

God the spirit also calls and leads God’s people.  When we are led by the spirit of God, we are children of God. 

How does God in all God’s glory -  God the creator, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit call you?  And what’s your response?   Do you recognize the call?  If you do, how do you respond? 

I’ll tell you a little about how I’ve most vividly interacted with God.  About 8 years ago, I was in Seattle, and had a “ theophany “, an experience of God that I could see and hear and feel.    I never have before, and I haven’t since.  And I’m enough of a logical analytical person, or at least that’s how I had been, that this was a very odd experience indeed.  I came home from this event, and shared it with my husband.  He admitted that if he didn’t know me, he would have thought I was a little loopy. What had happened is that  I had seen something in the midst of church.  I can’t describe it very well because my words fail me, but I remember it vividly and can see it clearly.  I share this with you, not because I want you to think I’m loopy too.   Rather, I share this because of what happened after, about how easy it would be to miss God’s call, even a bold one like this. 

My parish priest at the time explained that what I’d experienced was absolutely real, and was only between God and me.  No one else saw it.  He went on to say that I had some options about what to do with this.  Option one was to archive the experience in the great vault of life experiences, and be amazed at what happened.  The other option, he explained, was to ponder and pray about what this meant.  Things like this, he explained, don’t happen on accident.  My assignment, should I choose to accept it, was to be curious and prayerful enough to figure out why then, why there, why me.

I, of course, would have much preferred if he had just explained it to me.  It would have been easier too.  Instead, I pondered and sat with this.  I had no idea what it meant, but was curious, and felt I couldn’t waste this opportunity, to simply archive the experience, and chalk it up to an amazing weird thing. 

During this time, I felt like the little bird in the children’s book, “Are you my mother?”  In the book, the bird approaches everyone and everything, asking “are you my mother?”    In the same way, I was exploring and considering everything.  Was this why?  Is this the reason?  

While in that unsettled “Are you my mother” phase, I had the opportunity to accompany my son through confirmation classes, while I renewed my baptismal covenant.  I was looking for answers anywhere, and this was one of many places I searched. 

In those classes, my priest was explaining the difference in the calling of bishops, priests and deacons, explaining that “deacons comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”   Hmmm.  I can do that.  I do do that.   Before that moment, I had never thought about being ordained, nor given much thought to what I do.   But over the next several weeks, I began to discern a call to be ordained as a deacon, not because I needed to do something different, but because I was already doing the work of a deacon.  When I confessed my inkling of a call to my parish priest, he smiled, and asked why it took me so long to respond to that call that he’d recognized for some time.  This made me very nervous, and comforted. 

God, through the Holy Spirit called me, in a rather unclear, confusing way.  Ultimately, with persistence, prayer and encouragement, I pursued the path that brought me here. 

I most frequently experience God’s call through the person of God the son.  The artist Stephen Curtis Chapman has a song that talks about seeing the face of Jesus in orphans across the world, or in the homeless mother.  Hearing Jesus whisper, “Didn’t you say you wanted to find me? Here I am. Here you are.  It goes on to ask, What now?  What will you do, now that you found me.  I know I may not look like what you expected, but if you remember, this is right where I said I would be. And you found me.  What now?

Has God the son called you?  Have you had an experience with another person, where you know something special was happening?  Maybe it’s a person of incredible peace and beautiful holiness, and you knew there was something special but you couldn’t explain it.  Maybe it was someone in need. 

So how are you called?  Do you recognize the calling of the Trinity, in all its mysteriousness? 

Have you had an experience you can’t explain?  Makes no sense? Have you had your own Theophany? 

Why then? Why there?  If it was last week, or last decade, think about it.  What was God the spirit trying to tell you? 

Where is God leading you?  What are you supposed to do in response?

On this blessed and awesome Trinity Sunday, give some thought to how God the creator, God the Holy Spirit or God the son has called you and calls you still.  Pray, and think about it, so that you can hear the question we are each posed day after day.  And steel yourself, so you are ready to respond.

“Whom shall I send?”

“Here I am.  Send me!”

Amen.