Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Sermon: "Just the Three of Us"



Genesis 1:1-2:4a – Scripture Intro

On this Trinity Sunday, as we contemplate the complex nature of our Creating, Redeeming, and Sustaining God, we bring ourselves all the way back to the beginning.
To the story of Creation.
This is just one of the stories that our Jewish ancestors told in response to their existential wonderings, as they looked at one another and asked – Who are we? How did we come to be here? And who or what created everything that we see around us?
In this first chapter of Genesis, God creates the world in six days – separating light from dark, water from earth, and populating the land, sea, and sky with all sorts of flora and fauna, before finally creating human beings – 
male and female, God created them.
This is where God says,  
“Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness.”
For thousands of years theologians and ordinary believers alike have wondered –
 who is God speaking to here?
For Christians, who believe in the concept of the Trinity – the “us” and “our” refer to Jesus and the Holy Spirit – both of whom are a part of God and who were with God at the time of Creation.
The Gospel of John reinforces this interpretation – as it opens with the stirring claim, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.”
Some would say this is the Christian version of the Creation story – as it places Jesus at God’s side at beginning of our world.

But for the ancient people of Israel, who cherished the Creation story we find in Genesis for thousands of years before Christianity even existed, using plural language to refer to God was not uncommon.
One of the names of God used in this first chapter of Genesis is "Elohim" – 
which means “many gods.”
In Hebrew grammar, the plural form for God is often used to emphasize the greatness and overarching power of the one true God over all gods.
God says “us” and “our” in much the same way human monarchs refer to themselves using the royal “we” to represent the position they hold as a leader of many.

Christians and Jews may have different interpretations of this first Creation story, especially as it applies to the doctrine of the Trinity,
but what we share is the understanding that at the time of Creation, God sent life-giving light into the world – and that light also exists within us – 
to remind us that we too are created in the image of God. 



 

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott
Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC
May 27, 2018 – Trinity Sunday
Genesis 1:1-2:3

“Just the Three of Us”

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

If you were raised in the Catholic faith like I was, seeing this familiar gesture and hearing these words may have you nodding in recognition.
Or shuddering…depending on what you carry with you from that experience.

This simple gesture is performed by Catholics multiple times during the daily and weekly Mass:
When entering the sanctuary, in combination with a genuflect when entering the pew or crossing in front of the altar, at the opening and completion of the Mass, and after receiving communion.

A modified version is done just before the reading of the Gospel,
where one makes a small cross on the head, the lips, and the heart as a sign of one’s openness to hearing and speaking God’s word.

In the Roman Catholic Church the sign of the cross is performed with an open hand and moves from left to right across the chest.
In the Eastern Orthodox Church the preferred method is to use three fingers – to represent the trinity – and the hand moves from right to left across the chest.

Many Catholics perform this ritual both consciously and unconsciously throughout the day –
before prayer, 
before meals,
to counteract worry or the feeling that something bad may happen,
or as a sign of blessing or gratitude when something good happens.

Whether you’re about to enter the battlefield,
or you’re about to cross home plate after hitting a home run,
making the sign of the cross has you covered.

Catholics aren’t the only Christians who perform this very Trinitarian ritual – Lutherans, Anglicans, Presbyterians, even Methodists, have been known to use it on occasion.
Our Congregationalist forbearers – being the Reformation rebels they were - wanted nothing to do with it. 
Because it was too Catholic.
When the Puritans and Pilgrims broke away from the Church of England, they tossed out the sign of the cross, along with the statues, stained glass windows, and hierarchical structure.

But if we look at this simple gesture as a ritual that’s meant to remind us of God’s presence in our lives, we may see that it has value.
The gesture is a prayer in itself  -  a pause in one’s day -
and a reminder not just of the saving nature of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross,
but of the multiple roles God plays in our everyday lives.

If you struggle with the image of the cross or find the language of “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” to be too traditional, too patriarchal – or too Catholic –– you might try naming the roles of God instead:

Creator – Redeemer - Sustainer

We are Created by God who watches over us.
Through Jesus we are redeemed in our hearts.
We are sustained by the Spirit on this earthly plane.

For my mother, a life long and devout Catholic,
this is all she needed to know about the Trinity.
God created us.
Jesus redeems us – or heals us by making us whole.
And the Holy Spirit sustains and guides us.

When I was in seminary in Boston, I was in the midst of writing a paper about the Trinity for my Systematic Theology class when my mother called from NY.
It was one of those not so subtle  – “I haven’t heard from you in a while so I just wanted to see if you were still alive….” calls. 
One of those calls that has just the right balance of concern and guilt that mothers in particular are so good at pulling off.

I said, “Mom, I’m really sorry I haven’t called, but I have this paper due tomorrow on the Trinity and I’ve been spending a lot of time in the library.”
“You’re writing a paper on the Trinity?” she said, incredulously.
“That shouldn’t take too long.”
“Mom,” I said, “The paper has to be 3000 words, or about 10 pages.”
There was an audible gasp at the other end of the phone.
“3000 words?” she said,
“Why would you need 3000 words to talk about the Trinity?

The Trinity is the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost.

What more do you need to say?”

Somehow I don’t think my Systematic Theology professor would have accepted this succinct response.
Maybe if I had written, “Father, Son, and Holy Ghost” 3,000 times in a row I may have gotten points for creativity.

In many ways, my mother was right.
Any attempt to explain the Trinity beyond naming the individual parts is an exercise in futility.

In fact, most of the ways we try to explain the Trinity were considered to be heresies at some point in the history of the church – and still are for many keepers of the faith.
For example, saying that God is not three distinct persons within one being,
or is one being wearing three masks or identities,
or using metaphorical language – such as comparing the Trinity to water taking three forms – liquid, solid, and gas,
or even stripping out the gendered language in favor of naming the roles – Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer – are all considered to be big heretical no-no’s in many Christian circles,
for reasons I won’t go into here.

Suffice it to say, the Trinity is a mystery that by nature cannot be explained.
Because the moment we try to explain it, the mystery is removed. 

So, you may be asking, what relevance does the concept of the Trinity –
and our celebration of Trinity Sunday - have in our everyday lives?
How does reflecting on the mystery of the Trinity or reminding ourselves of God’s triune nature help us to navigate this world that we find ourselves in?

How does it help us understand suffering?
Or overcome adversity?
Or help us move through our day in a way that keeps our focus on love,
and hope, and joy,
rather than on all the things that bring us sorrow, or cause us despair, or tap into our fears?

Acknowledging the Trinity is acknowledging that God is by nature a relational being – however we understand that relationship –
Father – Son – Spirit
Creator – Redeemer – Sustainer
Above us – Within us – Always moving in and around us

Acknowledging the Trinity helps us to understand ourselves…
because we are created in the image of God we too are relational beings.
We have an innate need for connection.
We have a need to connect to something or someone outside of ourselves.
And anything that disrupts that connection causes us sorrow and pain.

In many ways we crave unity, harmony, relationships with others.
When we have disharmony or disconnection - in our family,
in our community, in our country, in our world –
we may feel disjointed or unsettled or we may even feel like a piece of ourselves is missing – or has been torn from us.

That’s not to say that being connected to others is all about holding hands in solidarity and singing Kumbaya.
When people are connected to one another conflicts and misunderstandings are inevitable.
Any time we have to share resources, or take another’s feelings into account, or compromise on our own needs and desires, our self-preservation instinct kicks in and we resist. 

This is the challenge of being a relational being.
We are forever seeking a balance between satisfying our own needs and the needs of others.
It’s a dance we do – as we both crave connection and resist losing ourselves in that connection.   
  
This is a dance that we learn at a very early age.

My niece, Katherine, recently learned that she’s pregnant with twin boys.
She and her husband already have two boys – Ryan, who is three and a half, and Nathan, who is one and a half.
When she told Ryan that soon he was going to have two more brothers, he looked at her in confusion and said,
“But mommy, when the twins come what are we going to do with Nathan? Because we can’t have THREE babies in this house!”

To her credit, my niece, who grew up with two younger siblings of her own, said to Ryan,
“Well, when the twins get here Nathan won’t be a baby anymore, he’ll be a little boy like you, and you’ll have someone to play with and talk too.”
To which Ryan replied, “Oh, okay.”

God created us to be relational beings.
To live in relationship with one another, to work together on maintaining those relationships, and to feel compelled to do what we can to seek healing, when possible, when those relationships become strained or broken.

As evidence of this, we need only look to the stories that our Jewish ancestors thought to carry with them and preserve in the Hebrew scriptures.
Stories of a Creator God who formed human beings out of the earth to act as companions to one another and all of creation.
Stories that reveal the multitude of ways that we find it challenging to do just that. 

In many ways the Bible we have is one long story about people behaving badly towards one another.
Cain kills Abel, Joseph’s brothers throw him in a ditch and then sell him into slavery, David sleeps with another man’s wife and then arranges for him to die in battle so he never finds out…

But the Bible is also full of stories of people figuring out that they need each other - and that nurturing the connections is for the good of all…
Naomi defies tradition and invites the widowed Ruth into her home,
Esther stands up to a powerful King to save an oppressed people,
Moses leads his people to the Promised Land, knowing that he will never taste the fruits of that land himself.

Nothing about the stories of our faith tells us that we should expect to live in harmony 100% of the time, but still we are driven to seek out and live in relationship with one another, despite the risks.  

Reminding ourselves that God is by nature a relational being made up of Creator, Christ, and Spirit – reminds us of our own nature.
If we remind ourselves of this by making the sign of the cross whenever we’re about to do something prayerful, or risky, or courageous, or completely ordinary – how would it change the way we pray, or speak, or act – as neighbors, as strangers, as brothers and sisters in Christ?

As Lutheran theologian, Karoline Lewis suggests:
Performing this Trinitarian ritual might make us pause and question if what we are about to do is truly “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
Our experience might be completely different if there is an expectation that our Creator, our Redeemer and our Sustainer are actually in the room.
The simple act of saying, “in the name of our Creator, of the Christ, and of the Holy Ghost” might give us the strength and the power to take a chance, to take a risk, knowing that God promises to be there.

Because we are connected to one another, 
we too have the power to be a creating, redeeming, sustaining presence for on another – in God’s name. 

On this Trinity Sunday, 
we celebrate that we are created by God, 
in the image of God.  

 Let us rejoice and be glad in it.     

Amen. 



A video which (humorously) presents the difficulty of explaining the Trinity without be heretical:

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