Dr. John Tamilio III, Pastor
© 2020, Dr. Tamilio
Today is the first Sunday after Pentecost: Trinity Sunday. I always felt that this was one of those days when preachers are tasked with the impossible: to explain what appears inexplicable. How does Christianity, which is a monotheistic religion, explain how God can be one yet three at the same time? The deeper I delve into the Trinity, the more I feel as if I am dealing with a mathematical theorem that seems possible on one hand yet impossible when you put pen to paper. I also feel as if I am looking at one of those sketches by Escher, the Dutch graphic artist. I had a framed Escher print in my bedroom when I was in college: Ascending and Descending. It depicts people walking up and down a set of stairs (the same set of stairs, mind you) at the same time. Escher’s work depicts the impossible in ways that seems conceivable. When I reflect upon the Trinity long enough, I feel the same way.
But maybe this is the wrong way to look at it. The Trinity is not an Escher print, nor is it a math problem to be solved. The Trinity gives us a clue about the very essence of God.
- God is always God the Father.
- God is always God the Son.
- God is always God the Holy Spirit.
These manifestations of God are never divided, although we often think of them separately. God is a personal, relational God, so maybe we need to think of the Trinity in these terms.
While I was in seminary, the inclusive language debate was circulating through the church and higher education. It was always ion the fore. There were a number of people that insisted on using terms such as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier for the Trinity instead of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This, in part, is the difference between what theologians call the economic verses the immanent Trinity. In other words, although words such as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier are gender-neutral, so they are probably less offensive to some, they describe the economic Trinity: what God does. One of my former professors said it is more like a job description:
- God the Father is God the Creator.
- God the Son is God the Redeemer.
- God the Sustainer is God the Sanctifier.
The problem for some people who are sensitive to inclusive language (people like me) is that this does sound like a job description. It signifies what God does, but not who God is. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, on the other hand, are relational words. They are nouns, not verbs. In other words, the very names we use for the parts of the Trinity and that the God they signify is a relational God — a personal being. Maybe that is the real significance of the Trinity. It isn’t a mathematical problem to solve. It is a personal being that embraces us in different ways.
In one of my taped sermons, I mentioned the TV show Joan of Arcadia. This show ran for two seasons between 2003 and 2005. It was a serial drama about the Girardi’s — a middle class family in a fictional Maryland suburb named Arcadia. Joan, a high school upperclassman, encounters God in every episode, but God always appears in the guise of someone different. Some of the recurring roles are handsome high school boy, pizza delivery man, an older man who walks dogs, even a little girl. You never know (and Joan never knows) how God is going to appear. God always has a task for Joan to do, but that’s another story altogether.
In one episode, Joan, frustrated over the death of a sick, young boy for whom she babysat, wants God to reveal it all to her: the meaning of life, the purpose of existence, the reason why we suffer, you name it. Though reluctant, God relents. A bright light shines and in the next scene, Joan is unconscious. She had passed out. When wakes up, she has virtually no memory of what saw, but again that’s another story.
The point with this illustration is that this character is able to encounter God in various, ordinary incarnations, but the full glory of God is too much. As God says to Moses, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live” (Exodus 33:20).
It’s no different for us. We want to fully understand God, and we long to see God in all his glory, but is that even possible in this life? Would our minds even be able to comprehend it? Can we see his face and live?
All theology fails. As much as we try to understand God, our thoughts and words fall short. We see only in part, as Paul said. We cannot get to God, but God can get to us (if that makes sense). God reveals himself to us in ways that we can understand.
- As Father and Creator, he is the source of all life. We can conceptualize that, because we exist.
- As Son of God and Savior, he atones for our sins and reestablishes our relationship with him.
- As Holy Spirit, she guides us through life and sustains us through good and bad. (I purposely used to the pronoun “she” there, because the Greek and Hebrew words for Spirit are feminine nouns.)
God’s relationship with us changes so that God can meet us where we are and draw us close to him/her. But there’s more to it than that.
These forms of God are not stationary, stagnant, and inflexible. God is everywhere all the time. We encounter him in ways we cannot fathom. Like Joan of Arcadia, it can be through the voice of other people. Like many characters in the Scripture — characters such as Joseph, Solomon, and Daniel — God appears to us in dreams. I also believe that God appears to us in situations: times in which God is calling us to act, or maybe to show restraint. Neither our theology nor our will can contain God. God is beyond us: all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good, present everywhere and at all times. He can be where we least expect him, challenging us to do what we think is impossible. And sometimes God is the still, small voice asking us to be still, and to just know that God is.
Maybe the best way that we can approach God is with open hearts, open hands, and open minds. Our role is to embrace the mystery that is God is whatever form it takes. God is the source of all being, beyond comprehension yet as close and personal as our dearest friend. We do not have to know all that there is about God to trust that God knows us, even better than we know ourselves. Amen.