Homily: Yr A Trinity, June 15 2014, St. Albans
Readings: Gen 1.1-2.4a, Ps 8; 2 Cor 13.11-13; Mt
28.16-20
Have you ever looked at the
stars? I mean really looked at the
stars, from a place free of light pollution, where you can see them in all
their splendor. About five years ago, I
was in Peru, hiking the Inca trail on the way to Macchu Picchu, and on the way
we were camping high in the Andes mountains, nearly 4000m above sea level where
the air is thin. One night I woke up in
the middle of the night, got out of the tent and looked up. And I was amazed by the array of stars
overhead, filling my vision, impossible to count, breathtaking in their
beauty. It was an awesome sight. And on that occasion my words could easily
have been the words of the psalmist that we read in Psalm 8 this morning:
“When I consider your
heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you have set in
their courses, O Lord, how exalted is your name in all the world.”
This is one of the ways that
we as humans experience God. We
experience God as Creator, and we are filled with awe and wonder. The knowledge that we’ve accumulated through
modern science only accentuates these emotions.
We know that our galaxy the Milky Way is so big that it takes light over
100,000 years to cross it, and yet the Milky Way is only one of billions of
galaxies in our universe. The God that we
experience through creation is the Big God, the God beyond heaven and earth,
the one that transcends us, the one that fills us with awe, and maybe even a
bit of fear and trembling.
And out of this experience
of God come the images of the divine that are perhaps some of the most familiar. We picture God, as does the psalmist, as a
big, powerful figure, as a king who lives above the clouds, or perhaps as some
sort of superhero gazing down on earth from the sky. “O Lord our governor, how exalted is your
name in all the world!”
But our experience of the
vastness of the universe also raises questions for us doesn’t it? The immensity of the heavens and the picture
of the big God who created them can make us feel rather small and
insignificant. Why would such a God care
for us? Or again in the words of the
psalmist, “What is man that you should be mindful of him? What is the human that you should seek them
out?”
But for some strange reason,
we do experience God as caring for us. We
do experience God as seeking us out. Despite the vastness of creation, we do
experience ourselves as significant within it. We seem to be the only creatures in whom
consciousness and a quest for meaning have emerged. Out of the immensity of the universe it is in
humanity that the universe becomes aware of itself and seeks a relationship
with its creator. And out of our yearning
for relationship with God, which some might call our spirituality, we do, at
least from time to time, get the sense that we are indeed in relationship with
the divine, that we are loved by a force which transcends us and yet is near to
us and all around us.
And this sense of the
nearness of God, and the love of God for us moves us to imagine God in new
ways, because the image of God as the big God, as the superhero in the sky just
doesn’t cut it for people who have moved into this closer relationship with the
divine.
In the scriptures of the Old
Testament, we see how this process of re-imagining God worked for the Hebrew
people. They had their image of God as
Creator that we envisioned today in our first reading, the God who said “Let
there be light” and there was light. This
is the Almighty God who rules over the heavens and the earth, God as the
exalted governor that the psalmist refers to in today’s psalm.
But new images also emerged
out of the Hebrew people’s experience of the divine in their midst, surrounding
them and upholding them. One of these
new images is captured by the Hebrew word “Shekinah”. Shekinah refers to the presence of God. It is the “holy, holy, holy” that we will
sing about during our offertory. It is
the divine presence which dwells among and within her people, a presence which
surrounds us and at times overwhelms us.
When Moses goes up the mountain to receive the ten commandments and is covered
by a cloud, it is the Shekinah of God that surrounds him. When Isaiah enters the temple and has a
vision of God, it is the Shekinah, God’s presence that overwhelms him.
Another image of God that
emerges for the Hebrew people, another way of picturing the intimate
relationship the Creator has with creation and with humanity is the image of
God as Wisdom which we find in the Proverbs and in the Wisdom of Solomon. In these writings, God is pictured not so
much as the sovereign who gazes from above, but as the feminine figure of
Wisdom who comes to us, seeking us out along the road, waiting for us at the
crossroads and the city gates, calling out to all of us, seeking to enter into
relationship with us. In Wisdom, God
doesn’t wait for us to come to her, she comes to us. She is God’s agent in creation, dancing,
rejoicing and taking delight in the human race.
What a wonderful image this is of a God who comes to be with us,
rejoices with us, dances with us, and takes delight in us. What a delightful contrast to some of the
images that we have grown up with, images of God as a stern task-master,
waggling his finger at us, telling us to behave. In Wisdom, we have the image of a God who not
only loves us but who also loves being with us.
Like us, the Hebrew people
experienced God in a variety of different ways.
They experienced the awesome God, the big God, in the immensity of
creation and the transcendence of worship.
They experienced God as the one who comes calling, who seeks us out, who
dances with us and delights in her relationship with us. And they experienced
the divine as a presence who cares for them, who draws near and surrounds them,
who dwells within them.
God as Creator, God as Wisdom,
God as Shekinah.
Today is Trinity Sunday. Unlike most Sundays, when we remember and
celebrate events which have happened, events like Christmas and Easter and
Pentecost, on Trinity Sunday, we celebrate an idea. An idea about God. The idea that God is one God in three
persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
And to tell you the truth, when that idea is presented as the doctrine
of the Trinity, there are many of us, myself included, who find that it is a
bit complicated and perhaps a little obscure.
But I encourage you this
morning to think of the Trinity in terms of your own experience of God. Think of the times you have beheld the beauty
of a sunset, or the peacefulness of a forest or the glory of worship, the times
you have experienced the transcendence and wonder of the divine energy which is
beyond our grasp and comprehension. This is your image of God the Father.
Remember the stories you’ve
been told of the love and compassion and wisdom of Jesus of Nazareth, how he
came to seek us out, how he sought out those who were rejected and marginalized
by society, how he delighted in their presence, laughing and celebrating with
them at table, and how his work and ministry continue in the people who carry
on with his mission today. This is your
image of God the Son.
Notice the times that you’ve
experienced the divine as a subtle presence, as comfort and inspiration and
power from within, as one who comes alongside, as an invisible energy which
surrounds you and upholds and strengthens you, as love which is poured into
your heart and you in turn have to offer to others. This is your image of God the Holy Spirit.
And become aware of the
relationship between all three of these images or personas of God, of a lively
relationship of love between equals which values and supports and upholds the
other. This is the essence of God the
Trinity.
And if you’re sitting there
saying to yourself that you have yet to experience or name or imagine God in
these different ways, think of this as a wonderful opportunity that you have to
take the relationship you do have with God and move and deepen it in new and
exciting directions.
In the name of God, Creator,
Wisdom and Shekinah; Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
Amen.
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