Trinity Sunday C - May 26, 2013

A friend of mine shared an embarrassing moment she had as an episcopal deacon.  She had a dear friend and neighbor who was Jewish, named Sarah.  They’d known each other for years, and had frequently shared their faith stories and traditions with each other, attending baptisms and Seders together.    A new family moved in the neighborhood, who had a more extroverted spirituality and talked openly and passionately about her Christian identify.   One afternoon, Sarah came charging over to my friend’s house, exasperated.  You will not believe it, but our other neighbor -  the vocal Christian -  thinks that Jesus is God.  My friend felt like a heel, because somehow, the concept of a Trinitarian faith had never come up, and now she had a big confession.  Well Sarah, that’s what I believe too. That’s what all Christians believe.  

And that’s not all.  We also believe that the Holy Spirit is God.  Sarah, devoutly Jewish and believing in One God, was stunned and shocked.  I thought you believe in one God, like I do!   I am not sure how they navigated through the rest of the conversation.  I am sure that I’m grateful this happened to my friend and not me.  

Today is Trinity Sunday, a day when preachers around world will struggle to explain or know one of the greatest mysteries ever to be unknowable.  

You see, we are mono-theistic (One God).  And we are also Trinitarian.  We believe in God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.  There are three distinct persons that comprise One God.  I’m not sure exactly how it works, but I believe it does.  I believe it,  because I’ve experienced it.  I have seen Christ in other people, stood in awe at the Father’s creative miracle that is my created world, and felt the presence of the Comforter, or the Holy Spirit.  

So rather than making my brain hurt any more trying to explain the Trinity, and possibly being branded as a heretic, I’ll focus on one of the implications of being a Trinitarian people.  In the football world, 3rd down and long, I’ll punt. 

God the Father has been referred to as the Creator.  The One who brought all things into being.  The one who created the mountains and oceans, what we see in the Hubble Telescope, the vast expanse of interstellar space, and each one of us.  What amazing and diverse creative imagination, to create this place and us, and to also create every bird and color and every breathtaking vista.  And what a sense of humor to create some these creatures like the hippopotamus and those chickens that look like they have feather-hats on.  God the Father also has amazing diversity and depth.  God the Father made me.  God the Father knows every hair on my head.  And that same creative force made the mountains and valleys and oceans and plants and . . everything.  The Psalm today describes this creative diversity.   It reads, When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses, what is man that you should be mindful of him?  So thinking about some of the ways we can describe God the Father, we can call him creative, imaginative, has a good sense of humor, flexible, vast, and focused.  

God the Son.  God the Son is Jesus.  He loved.  He gave people a tangible model of the intangible God.  People of his time and ours can see what Jesus the man did, and know a little about the unknowable God.   The reading from Romans describes that it is through Jesus Christ we obtain grace.  God the son is a model, healing, forgiving, life-giving, just, grace-giving, truthful.  God the son is love. 

God the Holy Spirit.  At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit united all the people, despite language barriers.  Christ says the Holy Spirit is a comforter and advocate.   In the reading from John, we learn that the Spirit will guide us into all truth.  The Holy Spirit is a uniter.  A comforter and advocate.  The Holy Spirit is mystical.  And the Holy Spirit allows us to understand God’s Word.  

These three persons are distinct, and yet very inter-related, performing a sacred dance, leading and following.  Bishop Hillary of Poitiers in 367 described the relationships in this way.  He said it’s as if someone is given the gift of sight.  An amazing, creative gift.   And even if the person has perfect eyesight, without light, the gift cannot be used. And without something to look at, the gift of sight is meaningless.  Their gifted eyes work fine.  But they need other things to make their perfect eyes work as designed.   Hillary’s analogy is that we have the gift from God the Father of the Word of God, of Jesus Christ.   We hear Christ’s teachings and we understand the words clearly.   But without the Holy Spirit dwelling in us, we cannot fully understand the Word.  In the analogy, the Holy Spirit in us is the light that makes eyesight work.  So it is with God.  God has created all things, and given us the Incarnate Word of Jesus Christ.  But without the gift of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us, we cannot use or value the gift we have in the Word.  
The words of today’s last hymn also allude to this dance.  The first three verses start clearly, describing the three distinct persons of the Trinity:  Holy Father, great creator Holy Jesus, Lord of glory Holy Spirit, Sanctifier

But then the dance begins.  The verses go on to have the Father look upon the mediator, or Holy Spirit.  And the Spirit will fill us with the savior’s love.  And it is through the Savior that the Father hears and blesses.  One God.  Three distinct persons.  Beautifully interwoven, interrelated and interdependent.  
Through how we experience these three persons and one God, we understand something about the nature of God. We experience or learn from Scripture about a whole variety of attributes and strengths - everything we should strive to be.  From what we have heard or experienced of God the Father - Creative.  Imaginative, Good Sense of Humor, flexible, vast, focused. About God the Son - Ethical, model, healing, truthful, just, love.  And God the Holy Spirit - Comforter, advocate, mystical.   
And here’s the best part.   We are made in God’s image. 
So like a mold that is used to cast sculptures, the mold-maker designs the mold, and the images created look like that mold.  The mold that was used to create us, is the Trinitarian, multi-faceted God.  We are made in God’s image.  So… that… means…. We each have in us, all those attributes and strengths of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.  The mold we were made from has space for all that.

Each of us is unique, with strengths and places where we can grow.  But we were made in the image of God with all those traits.  You were made to be creative. Imaginative.  Ethical. Loving.  An Advocate.  Mystical.  To point people towards God. Love. 

But, you say, I am not all of those things.   Yes, neither am I.  And how amazing is it that you have it in you to be those things.  Of those amazing God-traits, think of one you don’t consider a strength.  One you don’t think you could ever have.   Surprisingly, you do have it in you to be that thing you don’t think you are, because you are made in God’s image.  

So maybe we should be trying out our less-developed-modeled-in-God’s-image traits.  I’m not suggesting that you can go home and be a creative sculptor or a healing doctor today, just because you’re made in God’s image.  But you were made to be creative, healing, loving, all of the things we learn from the Trinity.  Tend and nurture one of those traits that’s been sitting fallow.  And see how God designed your particular brand of creative or mystical.   Sing in the shower.  Draw a stick figure.   Believe in a mystery.  Be the person who helps someone understand the gift of the Word of God.

Not only are you made in God’s image with all of those embedded traits and characteristics,  so is your neighbor, your friends, your family.  Sometimes, I wish I had special glasses that I could put on, and see what God sees.  What do all of those characteristics look like in my family members?  What does God want them to become?  What can I do to help them be that person, in God’s image, that they were made to be?  Having those glasses would help remind us, particularly when our family members or friends behave in a way that doesn’t reflect God’s image.  

And being made in God’s image isn’t something reserved for us and our family and friends.    Think about the inconsiderate drivers, testy co-workers, an acquaintance you cannot stand, or that group of people you consider unworthy.  They too were made in the image of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, made with the same God-like attributes we have and space to grow those we don’t.  Knowing that, we should always strive to act or judge only after we’ve put our glasses on, and seen others as God designed them, made  in God’s image.  

I cannot comprehend the Trinity.  I do know what the three persons of the Trinity look like, or maybe I ascribe a list of traits that I attribute to the Trinity from what I read, what we share as our experiences. Those human attributes we ascribe are helpful to understand the breadth and depth of God.   And they’re very helpful as we think about each other and others in our world.   As we encounter the different persons of the Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, we can begin - to possibly – perhaps -  comprehend the unknowable God.  We should also begin – to possibly – perhaps better understand and have compassion for our brothers and sisters in this world, made in God’s image.  
Amen. 

Easter 4C

April 21, 2013

Today is often called Good Shepherd Sunday, and it’s not hard to figure out why.  Nearly every reading mentions or alludes to shepherds or sheep.  Some references are subtle, like the multitudes clothed in white robes from the reading in revelation.  Then there’s Psalm 23,  one of the most memorized piece of scripture, second only to the Lord’s Prayer.  We all know how it begins.  “The Lord is my Shepherd.”  Direct.  Not so subtle.   Good Shepherd Sunday. 

The first reading today is about Tabitha.  This reading doesn’t tell us directly so much about shepherds, but it does illustrate what shepherds do.  Interestingly, Tabitha is the only female in all of Scripture to be referred to as a disciple, because of her belief and her actions.  She was pretty valuable to the other women of the time.  

As you can imagine, in Tabitha’s time, the world was very patriarchal.  A daughter’s worth was measured by her father until she married, and then it was measured by her husband.  Widows who no longer were protected or funded or defined by their husbands were at the absolute bottom of the pecking order.  Even today, women are often left with little, when marriages end due to death or divorce.  But back then, the women were disposable; there was no to care for them.  Except Tabitha.  She took care of the widows.  Now, with the social stigmas surrounding widows lessened, this seems like noble and defensible work.  But worldwide women still constitute a disproportionately high number of people in poverty – 70-% of the world’s most impoverished are women.  And only 1% of all land is owned by women.  But back then, Tabitha was bucking the system and had the audacity to care for those the rest of society had dismissed.  And she was called a disciple.  

When Tabitha died, the widows are horrified.  Again, there will be no one, and they will be nothing.  They call for Peter.   And Peter raises her from the dead.   Of course everyone is extremely grateful, as their Tabitha is back.  But more than that, they realize that God will take care of them.  Before Tabitha’s death, through this lone female disciple, God cares for the widows, and through Peter, God will not let them be snatched. God shows his care and concern for the “least of these”.   

In the Gospel reading, we see Jesus at the festival for the dedication of the Temple.  The Jews press Jesus to answer if he’s the Messiah.  He answers that My sheep hear my voice, and they follow me.  To understand this, you need to know a little about shepherding back then, and here’s what little I know.    Shepherds used to put their flocks together to graze. Many shepherds with many flocks, all mixed together.  At the end of the day, each shepherd would call his sheep, and they, knowing their shepherd’s voice and unique call, would leave the collective grazing and follow their shepherd.  

We’re all thrown together on this earth to graze together.  And Christ has a unique call.  Those who know his voice and his call, follow him.   And Psalm 23 gives us a great image about us collectively grazing, hearing the voice, and following the lord.  

I think Psalm 23 is a lot like a Disney movie.  I saw Disney movies as a kid and they were really funny.   I brought my kids when they were little, and my kids thought the movies were funny.  But I realized that when I was taking my kids, I thought the movies were funny too.  For an entirely different reason.  Disney movies enchant children, amuse teens and often make adults giggle, as they masterfully speak truths to many diverse audiences at the same time. I remember seeing Aladdin as an adult, and chortling at Robin Williams’ near raunchy and yet perfectly kid-friendly Genie.  

 As adults who’ve repeatedly heard Psalm 23 and perhaps memorized it as a child,  we still hear it with a child’s ears.  But as adults, we owe it to the psalmist to listen with fresh ears, to hear it as adults, to hear it today.   Like a good Disney movie, Psalm 23 will speak to us where we are, now as adults.  

The Psalm starts as light and wonderful.  Lie down in green pastures, lead me beside still waters.   All really great things.  I remember thinking this was a sunshine and happiness psalm.  Mostly. 

But after the lovely pastures and calm waters, we travel through those dark verses.  Walking through the darkest valley.  The version I memorized had me walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  I didn’t like that part, and I still don’t. Luckily that was a brief walk, for the next line assured me that I shall fear no evil, for you are with me.  Whew. That was close.  I walk scary places, true. But I’m immediately told not to fear.  I remember thinking as a child that that one line, the valley of the shadow of death, was entirely out of place.  It didn’t fit in the otherwise bucolic, pastoral, lovely setting. 

After that quick walk through the dark places, the rest of the psalm contained more lovely promises.  You prepare a table for me.  My cup overflows with your mercy.  Surely goodness shall follow me all the days of my life.   OK.  That was great.   Lots of nice promises.   We have only that one scary but brief walk through the valley.   That’s what I remember as a kid.  

But look again. Darkness is peppered throughout this psalm, not just in valley.  

Sure, God leads me beside still waters, but that’s because he’s restoring my soul.   This psalm is speaking to a people and a time where their souls did need restoring.  As grown-ups this week, we might too.  

And later in the psalm, that lovely table that’s laid before me?  It’s in the presence of my enemies.   So I’m supposed to enjoy this lush table and overflowing cup not in the absence of my enemies, but in the midst of them.  That’s not as lovely and bucolic of an image as the one I conjured up when I was younger. 

I don’t really like the idea of my soul needing restored.  I like it just the way it is.  The events of this week have been horrible and stressful on people throughout country and world. As I thought about the events in Boston and Texas and the impact on all the people directly affected, the people who know, love and worry for them, and the rest of us who sit by with a mix of grief, shock and confusion, I realized my soul did need a little refreshing after all.   

And it’s clear that we are not fed at this lush banquet, weekly at our Eucharistic Feast, in the absence of people who do bad things.  People who do bad things are all around.   And God lays a table before us, and we feast surrounded.  

But still we are asked to feast.    

The promise of this Shepherd.  Apparently, it’s not what I thought it was.  It’s not that I simply need to follow and all trouble goes away.  All cares cease.  All worries disappear.  But we are encouraged to “fear no evil”.  Not because the evil is removed.  Not because we’re protected or indemnified.  I shall fear no evil for you are with me.  
If left to my own devices, like a little lost sheep, I would fear the valley, my thirst, my enemies.  But because we have a good shepherd who always  calls us, we can choose to follow that shepherd.   In the midst of our communal grazing, we hear and follow our shepherd.  God is with us, and we can get to the place of fearing no evil.  

So what about that communal grazing?   Who’s in there?  All of us.  All of humanity.  You and me.  The widows, the orphans, the confused. The mean.  The bombers. The unlovable.   

God is trying to call us all – all of humanity, to follow his shepherd, to be loved and tended, and protected.  Revelations talks about the multitudes from all nations, clothed in white robes.   God’s vision is that all of us feast, all of us are loved, all of us are shepherded.  

Yes, we have recognized our shepherd’s voice  - to varying degrees on varying days.  We have mercy overflowing.  Until the vision of Revelation occurs, we should do everything we can to share God’s vision and love and care with the multitudes from all nations.  The widows. The orphans.  The confused.  The mean.  The bombers.  The unlovable.   We are, after all, stuck grazing with them in this life.  And it’s because of God’s overflowing mercy that we have the capacity – we are asked to do this.    

So thinking about this week, about the victims and the bombers. About their families.  About the people in Texas.  Let’s finish by reading Psalm 23 together, with grown up eyes.  And pray that we all, as we graze together,  know or come to know and follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;* 
he restores my soul.*
He leads me in right paths*
   for his name’s sake. 
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,*
   I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
   your rod and your staff—
   they comfort me. 
You prepare a table before me
   in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
   my cup overflows. 
Surely* goodness and mercy* shall follow me
   all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
   my whole life long.*


Amen.