2 Corinthians 13. 11 – 13

Psalm 8

Matthew 28. 16 – 20

Trinity Sunda

Fr Alex

 

I was sent a funny little video this week to assist me in preparing a homily for you today, on Trinity Sunday – traditionally a bit of a graveyard for preachers.

It’s a cartoon of St Patrick trying to explain the concept of the Trinity to a couple of grumpy, 5th Century Irish peasants.

They say, “Okay Patrick, tell us a bit more about this Trinity thing.  But remember we’re simple people without your fancy education in books and learning – and remember we’re hearing about all this for the first time, so try to keep it simple.”

Of course as the video progresses, it turns out these peasants know rather a bit more than they let on – and they certainly know how to spot a heresy.  So every analogy that poor St Patrick uses gets him into trouble.

He starts by imagining the Trinity as like water, which you can find in three different forms: liquid, ice, and vapour.

“Ah,” say the peasants – “that’s Modalism, Patrick.  An ancient heresy that says God is not three distinct persons, but that he merely reveals himself in three different forms.”

(They remind the good saint that this heresy was specifically condemned in Canon 1 of the First Council of Constantinople.)

“Okay then,” Patrick says, “the Trinity is like the sun: where you have the star itself, and the light and the heat.”

“Oh come on, Patrick,” the peasants respond, “get it together – that’s Arianism: the belief that Christ and the Holy Spirit are creations of the Father and not one in nature with him.  Just like heat and light are the creations of the sun, and not the sun itself.”

Panicking, Patrick reaches for his trump card, his sure-fire analogy to get him out of this embarrassing pickle.  He pulls a three-leaf clover out of his pocket.

“We’ll stop you right there,” say the peasants.  “You’re about to confess the heresy of Partialism: that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not distinct persons of the Godhead, but merely different parts, each composing a third of the Divine.”

And so it goes on.  It’s a bit of fun, but of course it reveals to us an important truth today on Trinity Sunday: that the mystery of God is ultimately beyond our understanding.

The Trinity simply cannot be comprehended by human knowledge – and no matter how clever our different analogies or symbols we may use to try to describe the mechanics of the Trinity: at some point, they will all fall down.

So what can the poor preacher do today?  Well, despite not being able truly to understand our Creator, by his grace we can come to know him; because of the simple truth that God desires to know us.

And I believe it’s in this divine desire for relationship that we can come closer to discerning the nature of our God.

The Father, who made all things, sent his Son into our world to live as one of us, to share our life.  In Jesus, we see what God is like, and what is his will for us.  And that same Jesus left us God’s Holy Spirit, his presence on earth in our lives, to draw us to the Father; and to place in our hearts the capacity to know and love him.

But why would God want this relationship with us?  As the author of our psalm this morning wondered: when we consider the vastness of the cosmos, the innumerable stars and planets: what are humans, these tiny and insignificant specks of dust? 

What are we, that God should seek us out?  And not just seek us out, but to crown us with glory and honour, to make us little lower than the angels themselves?

What today’s feast of the Holy Trinity teaches us is that God desires relationship with us, because God is relationship itself.  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit: God exists in perfect relationship, three persons in perfect unity.

And it’s when we enter into that divine relationship through our baptism, through the sacraments, through our life of faith: that’s when we come to know and experience God.  When we open up our hearts to become a place where God himself will choose to reside.  And when we realise that the Trinity is not a problem to be understood, but a mystery to be loved.

We get a sense of this in our two very brief New Testament readings today.

St Paul offers plenty of serious and difficult teaching in his letters, but he sums it all up simply in a final blessing to end this letter to the Corinthians.  He prays that they might know God by living in this divine relationship: by receiving the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit. 

We just heard the very end of St Matthew’s Gospel, with Jesus promising to be with his followers always.  And not just a memory of him: but to give them the very presence of God within them, until the end of the age.

Both this letter and the Gospel end with an encouragement to enter into this divine relationship of the Trinity.  But they also encourage us to use our experience of this perfect relationship to inform and enhance our relationships with one another too.

St Paul says that if the Corinthians live in peace with each other, then the God of peace will live with them.  And Jesus’ final command in this Gospel is for his followers to go and bring all people into this relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

We can see and touch and experience the divine relationship, every time we gather as we are today in worship; every time we seek the good of another; and every time we work for peace in a divided world.

So this Trinity Sunday, rather than tie ourselves up in knots about how it all works: may we simply seek to renew our faith in the glory of the eternal Trinity; and commit ourselves to living in the love and peace of God, and with one another. 

I pray that I have spoken in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.