'Crumbs...': a sermon for ordinary 20A

based on Matt 15:(10-20) 21-28 and Isaiah 56:1, 6-8

Let’s pray:

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

It’s not easy, being a disciple.

There you are, having left your nets,

your flourishing tax business,

to follow this rabbi, Jesus.

He has some pretty amazing things to say -        

but not everyone in the wider community is particularly chuffed by what they hear.

He seems to like challenging the religious authorities -

making them uncomfortable...

and sometimes, making you rather uncomfortable in the process.

His cousin John did a similar thing,
and...that didn't exactly turn out well.

He throws some pretty astounding

on-the-job training your way,

like catering for the multitudes

or walking on water.

He does some pretty astonishing things too.

Miracles, sure.

But... he also seems to like spending time with the kind of folk 

your mother always warned you about -

you know,

the edgy ones, the outsiders...

the ones who are definitely

‘not     like     us’...

the ones who don’t belong.

It’s hard, being a disciple,

because you find yourself so conflicted at times:

his words, his deeds, and sometimes the company he finds himself in,

often seem to get attention:

the wrong sort of attention.

Abandon any hope of future career

advancement here...

following the rabbi will not only

not make you rich,

you may also lose your respectability.

And yet,

there’s something about him:

he’s a visionary, a prophet,

and you occasionally wonder:

could he be the Messiah

with all his talk of the kingdom of heaven.

It’s not easy, being a disciple.

Perhaps it never has been.

If you think about the long history

of the children of Israel

it’s been a pretty mixed bag of

blessings and woes:

God’s promise to Abraham - of becoming a great nation...

and yet, becoming a nation of slaves in Egypt.

God’s deliverance under the leadership of Moses

and then... 40 years wandering and wondering in the desert.

Reaching the Promised Land,

and crowning your first king,
only to discover that Saul really isn't going to cut the mustard...

The golden years of God’s beloved king, David...

and Solomon the wise, who ruled in splendour...

but then the nation dividing into two...

weakened by infighting.

The kingdom of Israel eventually becoming a spent force

in the face of the might of other kingdoms...

and eventually conquered.

The temple destroyed

the best and brightest sent into exile...

The homecoming,

the rebuilding,

the hope for the future...

followed by further kingdoms

taking over the land...

until eventually, the Roman occupation.

And then,

...Jesus turns up.

He talks of a kingdom
that doesn't follow the usual format of

‘might equals right’,
a kingdom which doesn't put a lot of store 

in power and prestige at the expense

of the weak and the vulnerable...

A kingdom that is totally upside-down

and unlike any other:

the kingdom of God -

the kingdom of heaven.

It isn't easy, being a disciple,

but talk of this very different kingdom,

this very different way of being,

intrigues you enough to want to know more.

Which is why you find yourself

following the rabbi

as he travels the land,

walking around towns and villages,

and where you often land up

in awkward situations.

He’s just offended the Pharisees again -

this time in a conversation about things clean and unclean.

You think the plan to move on to another area is a good one,

except you find yourself in Gentile territory -

with all their strange ideas and customs -

pfft, dogs, the lot of them.

Not like us.

And now there’s some wifey who’s chasing alongside shouting out,

causing a scene.

It’s embarrassing.

It’s...  awkward.

You keep your head down, and keep walking...

and, to your relief,

so does the rabbi.

He outright ignores her:

actually, it’s about the only socially acceptable thing to do 

in the circumstances.

She keeps following, making a scene.
Perhaps the rabbi's silence isn't actually helping - 

maybe he needs to be more firm,

tell her to shove off.

Tell her ‘sorry, love, but you don’t belong here - you’re not one of us.’

And, it seems like he’s going to do just that.

Do the sensible thing;

the right thing,

tells her that it’s simply not in his job spec to speak to such as her.

But instead of going away,

...she stays,

makes an even bigger spectacle of herself.

She falls on her knees and begs...

‘Lord, help me.’

...Funny, Peter said the same thing the other day,

when his experiment with walking on water went wrong.

Seems she thinks that anyone

who calls on the name of the Lord

will be saved. ...

They get into a conversation.

To share, or not to share?

Is it fair to throw the children’s food to the dogs -

to people like her?

Even with that usual, casual insult,

she persists...

a strange clash of cultures here:

dogs are scavengers, pests...

for her, they’re family pets...

she talks of puppies and crumbs.

Crumbs...

And suddenly you remember:

you see in your mind’s-eye 

12 baskets of left-overs

from an improbable feast of a couple of days ago.

So     many     crumbs...

And you’re shaken out of your thoughts as you hear him

marvel at her faith

hear him agree to heal her daughter.

And you know that even as he’s said the words,

somewhere in a house nearby,

a young girl has been restored.

And somehow,

you can almost hear the crazy upside-down kingdom’s borders

getting bigger...

enlarging

expanding...

where all belong,

where all are God’s children,

not just the children of Israel.

It isn't easy, being a disciple.

Perhaps it’s never been.

Here, in the 21^st century, with the benefit of hindsight,

we look back over 2 000 years of church history

and see a mixed bag of blessings and woes,

as disciples through the centuries

have tried to work out what following

Jesus is all about.

Too soon, in the history of the Church,

followers began to buy into the idea of 

building the kingdom of heaven in brick and mortar...

in gold and marble...

caught up in thinking of power based on

earthly models:
of getting caught up in carving out an earthly empire 

where the nations of the earth would 

submit       or   be    crushed.

Where entry was through conversion by the sword 

as the New World was discovered...

where entry was by agreeing to adhere

to long lists of rules and regulations

and if not,

the doors of God’s grace would be slammed firmly shut.

Where the vision of the kingdom of heaven

decreased...

grew smaller and smaller

and only allowed the right sort of people in -

the ones who were just like us.

Somehow, over the centuries,

the children of God appointed themselves 

to the task of being God’s gate-keepers -

holy bouncers -

and in doing so, wholly losing sight

of the vision of the heavenly kingdom

that both the prophet Isaiah and Jesus saw:

a kingdom that was bigger, and broader, than imagined.

It isn't easy, being a disciple

but nothing truly worthwhile is easy.

We’re called to be uncomfortable at times

because as Christ’s body here on earth,

we’re called to share

in the bringing in of the kingdom of heaven -

a kingdom where the powerful are challenged

and where the lowly are raised to places of honour;

a kingdom of peace

a kingdom of rich, and glorious diversity

that breaks down the barriers of discrimination

and includes the kinds of people

that our mothers may just have warned us about.

It’s a kingdom of goodness, justice, and caring for one another:

where the gates are flung wide open

for all to enter in;

a kingdom that is always, always about God’s 

immeasurable generosity and grace:
where all can 'fit under YHWH's umbrella' [FOTW]

where all may come and sit around God’s banqueting table -

not offered crumbs,

but invited to feast,

to celebrate life, in all of its abundance...

...where all it takes is the faith,

the willingness to believe that with God

all things are possible...

The poet, R. S. Thomas described the Kingdom like this:
It's a long oway off but inside it 

There are quite different things going on:

Festivals at which the poor man

Is king and the consumptive is

Healed; mirrors in which the blind look

At themselves and love looks at them

Back; and industry is for mending

The bent bones and the minds fractured

By life.  It’s a long way off, but to get

There takes no time and admission

Is free, if you will purge yourself

Of desire, and present yourself with

Your need only and the simple offering

Of your faith, green as a leaf.

Amen 

'Sowing the seeds of love': Sermon for Ordinary 15A

texts:

Isaiah 55:10-13

Matthew 13: 1-9, 18-23

I’m convinced that gardening is an act of faith.

And, well, let’s be frank,

in my case, it’s the triumph of hope over experience.

So, it’s with a wee sense of irony, that I find 

that the readings for today both contain gardening metaphors:

‘A sower went out to sow...’ - the scattering of seeds, in our text from Matthew.

In our text from Isaiah, the earth being watered so that seeds might grow.

In both texts,

God, the gardener, the sower,

scattering his word-seeds extravagantly,

scattering the word everywhere.

Two readings.

Two different audiences: alike, yet unlike.

Two groups of people

born of the one nation:

God’s own people...

wondering if they’re forsaken

wondering...

if God is still speaking.

Let’s unpack our readings a little.

The background to this particular extract from Isaiah

is a one of sadness and unmitigated sorrow:

the harps hang forlorn upon the trees

as the waters of the Tigris and Euphrates flow past.

At the river bank, the people gather - and sit.

The exiles.

The castaways.

The conquered ones.

...Weeping, they wonder:

how can we sing the Lord’s song

in a strange land?

Numb with grief,

they are the flotsam and jetsam

cast up on the shores of misfortune.

Despair takes hold.

God has stopped speaking.

There are no words. ...

...Or, so it seems.

They’re wrong.

In the midst of their Babylonian captivity,

the words of the prophet Isaiah, remind

the Jewish exiles that God is faithful,

that God has not finished with them yet,

that God’s word will    not    fail...

that God    is still speaking.

Turning to our text from Matthew:

It’s now several hundred years later.

And we find the people of God

living not in exile, but under occupation.

Once again, they are a conquered people.

They find that their homeland is ripe for the picking

and that the imperial Roman army do it ever so efficiently.

New laws, new taxes,

new punishments - crucifixion.

The ways of the Romans are not their ways.

They chafe under the yoke and mutter.

Surely God has forsaken them?

God has stopped speaking -

has nothing,

no word to give them...

Or, so it seems.

They’re wrong.

In the midst of the Roman occupation,

the words of a young rabbi scatter through the land

like seeds,

for those with ears to hear.

God is faithful,

God has not finished with them yet,

God’s word will not fail...

for here, in flesh, in blood, in bone

God’s word walks among them

is one of them

and God is most definitely still speaking.

What are the words being scattered?

What is being sown by God, the gardener

to the exiles,

to the conquered under occupation?

These seeds are words of the kingdom:

of God’s reign

of the good news.

These seeds are...

Words of comfort and reassurance: take heart, dear ones, I have not forgotten you.

These seeds are

Words of hope: look up, lift up your heads

They are Words of freedom and peace:  look up, for your liberation is at hand - rejoice.

They are Words of renewal:

I am the God who refreshes and restores -

like the snow, like the rain watering the land.

They are Words of life that nurture and nourish:

abundant life. 

...Resurrection

and these are Words... that never fail - for God is faithful for all time.

Into the wasteland of exile and occupation

God the gardener sows the seeds of love:

God    is    still speaking.

And how are the words being scattered?

Freely. 

Unstintingly.

Without measure.

Heedless to the type of ground

the seed might fall upon,

God sows the seeds of love without prejudice or distinction,

not judging in advance who is worthy

or who is unworthy to receive them:
the seeds     are for all,

for the seeds are scattered in the abundance

of God’s generosity and grace.

They are scattered far and wide -

the word sent throughout the whole world:

scattered on the paths meant for peace,

but so often consumed by the hawks of war;

scattered in the rocky ground of social injustice

and deprivation that withers and destroys the soul;

scattered in the thorn bushes of addiction,

neglect, apathy; random violence;

...  ...scattered too, in soil that gives the optimum conditions for flourishing and growth...

In the dark places

the light places

and all the places in between,

God sows the seeds of love

for God is still speaking:

Speaking to the exiles,

speaking to those living under foreign occupation...

...speaking to us,     even now. ... ...

I often have this picture of Jesus in my mind’s-eye:

I see him walking about the dusty highways and byways

with his mates, his disciples,

just chatting with them -

telling them about the God’s Kingdom;

telling them about God’s love.

I can almost hear him saying:
‘you are loved,

you are precious in God’s sight,

rejoice and be glad,

and tell others the good news:

that they, too, are loved beyond measure.’

He’s sowing the seeds of love:

scattering words of hope, and life, and liberation...

and encouraging all who follow him

to go and do likewise -

to sow the seeds of love

in a sometimes very unloved and unlovely world;

a world that contains places

where people feel lost, forsaken, in despair,

and, if they did believe in a God,

would wonder why God has stopped speaking.

...Or, so it seems....  

In the midst of this world,

in the footsteps of the sower,

we, too are sowers -

loved and precious in God’s sight

and called to scatter the seeds,

the word of God,

wherever, and whenever we can;

to scatter the seeds of God’s word

extravagantly

generously,

joyfully...

mirroring the wideness of God’s mercy -

to show the good news

that the kingdom of heaven

is within us

while giving thanks for the fullness of the kingdom yet to come.

‘We are called to treat God’s love, God’s justice, and God’s blessing,

precious as these are, as if they were absolutely limitless in supply

for one simple reason:

they are.  They really are.’ [Sarah Dylan Brewer]

As we sow the seeds of God’s word,

so we proclaim to the world

that God is faithful

that God is not finished with any of us yet,

that God’s word will not fail

...that God, in love and grace,

is still speaking -

speaking words of love

that will burst forth into blossom,

30,

60,

...100 times over.  ...

Let’s pray:

God we give you thanks,

for forever sowing the seeds of life,

for giving us the Word of life that is Jesus,

for making us living seeds, tiny yet fruitful,

the scattering of your hand

beloved and precious in your sight.

Give us ears to hear,

to listen to your voice,

for in faith, we know

that you are still speaking.

Amen.

[based on a prayer by Leith Fisher]

lectionary leanings: 'Castaway God'

Have been pondering one of the readings for tomorrow:
Isaiah 55:10-13

The words from the Book of Isaiah are aimed at the Babylonian captives:
exiles, castaways... and in a lateral tangent I began to think of 'Desert Island Discs'
and wondered what if God were the 'castaway' interviewee...
What 8 pieces of music would God choose - the Psalms?
What book [apart from the Bible and Complete Works of Shakespeare]?
And what would be God's luxury item?
The interweaving conversation would be quite something.

I can almost hear Kirsty Young’s introduction:
*cue signature tune, fade...*

Our castaway this morning is someone who has been the subject of countless words:

writers through the centuries have praised and pondered him,

others have criticised and condemned him.

Turning to his own words:

He’s been in the word-smithing business since before Adam was a boy -

His own word brought creation into being,

His book has been in the all-time best-seller list

since before the printing press was invented;

he has only to speak, and the mountains bow down before him

and trees have been known to clap their hands in joy.

He’s been extravagantly scattering his word on pathways,

in rocky and thorny places,

and even on good soil for generation upon generation

And such is the power of his imagination

his Word became flesh and dwelt among us,

and we have seen his glory...
--------------------------------------------

Hmmm, quite like the idea of 'castaway God'.  Perhaps something to explore at another point when I am not sermon-procrastinating!

'You're welcome!' - a sermon for Ordinary 13A

Texts:
Ps 89: 1-2, 5-16
Matthew 10: 40-42

One of my favourite kids worship songs

is a song by Fischy Music.

It’s a simple, cheery, song of welcome,

and the words are short and to the point:

‘Welcome everybody, it’s good to see you here    

- said x three -

gathered in this place.’

Who knows, I may yet get the chance to teach it to you all 

before I leave in September -

and this particular welcome song comes with actions - 

so you’ve all been warned!

Welcome...and actions...

In our gospel reading this morning,

we find Jesus talking of welcome,

a welcome that comes with actions...

a welcome that is, in this instance,

quite specifically aimed at those,

who follow God,

being made welcome.

Jesus says -

‘whoever welcomes you’ - Jesus is talking to his disciples here...

‘whoever welcomes God’s messenger’ -

prophets and preachers and anyone who proclaims the good news of God...

‘whoever welcomes a good man’ [or woman!] -

other versions of the bible translate this as

‘the righteous’

and lastly,

‘whoever welcomes the least of my followers’

and here, we have an action:

the welcoming of the least is linked to the most basic - 

the most fundamental - act of hospitality:

providing a drink of cold water.

In this passage, then, we see various

kinds of follower,

from the very visible, to the barely visible:

from the great and the humble, to those in-between.

And we learn that to welcome any who follow Jesus,

is to welcome Jesus himself.

Here we get a glimpse of how the followers of Jesus are, 

in effect, the body of Christ.

And we also get a glimpse of how we should see one another:

for in order to welcome someone,

we first need to see them.

The God who sees us

calls us to see each other -

but more than that:

to see the spark of the divine in one another:

to see God in each other.

There’s something of the sacred then,

in the act of welcome.

But, in order to recognise God in one another

how do we see God?

The way in which the writer of our psalm sees God,

whilst singing God’s praises,

give us some helpful clues concerning the nature,

the character of God.

The psalmist sings:

‘O Lord, I will always sing of your constant love;

I will proclaim your faithfulness forever’. ...

In the reading, ‘constant love’ and ‘faithfulness’ just keep cropping up -

in this particular extract, we get to hear about

both of these attributes three times.

Then there’s the uniqueness of God:

‘no one in heaven is like you...’

God is seen as ‘awesome’,

‘none is as mighty’,

God is ‘powerful’ and ‘strong’.

 We see how God’s strength can calm the

‘angry waves’ of the sea -

which, several centuries later will be demonstrated by Jesus,

on the Sea of Galilee,

in a boat,

in the midst of a fierce storm...

The psalmist praises a God who is

supreme,

creative,

imaginative:

The heavens, the earth -

belong to God,

who created the world

and all therein...

And in the midst of the psalm,

we have a key statement which gives us a huge steer,

not only in how we see God,

but how we see each other -

how we welcome each other.

That statement?

‘Your kingdom is founded on

righteousness and justice;

love and faithfulness are shown in all you do.’

At Presbytery on Thursday evening, the Moderator 

reflected on the various fruit of the Spirit: 

love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 

gentleness and self-control -

this list coming from Paul’s letter to the Galatians. 

And it got me wondering about how these are demonstrated

each time we see one another -

each time we welcome and worship and walk with God together.

While some of these may come a little more easily than others,

the list serves to help us begin to tease out

those kingdom values of

righteousness and justice

that the psalmist sings about,

for righteousness and justice is bound up

with building each other up

in love, in joy,

by being patient and kind,

good and faithful, gentle,

and having some modicum of self-control...

okay, let's just not mention chocolate biscuits!!

But welcome is not only about us.

While our gospel reading 

‘invites us to explore in depth the quality of the welcome 

that we offer to one another within the Body of Christ...

we must also reflect on the welcome we offer

to those who are not yet a part of this body.’ [FOTW]

For, echoing last week,

we worship a God who not only sees us,

we worship the God who sees the outsider:

in the case of last week, Hagar.

How then, might we extend God’s welcome

to those on the edges or outwith

the community of Christ’s followers?

...Sometimes, it may be as simple as a random act of kindness...

acts like the ones in the wee film that [ppt person]'s going to play for us now...

[FILM]

Who are the people around us,

unseen,

unnoticed,

ignored by the wider community?

As we wander through our neighbourhoods,

or along the High St,

who might we see?

who are the unwanted ones?

the unwelcome ones?

who are the thirsty ones -

the ones that we could give a drink of water to?

That we could extend God’s welcome to?

the ones who we see

as God’s beloved ones -

or even,

as Christ, in the stranger’s guise?

One very practical thing, that you,

as a congregation are already doing,

has recently been to come alongside

the work of the [name of local group] Project...

seeing young homeless folk,

and helping them to turn a space into a home

when they’re offered housing.

[Seaside Parish community worker] was telling me on Thursday morning

that through your care and kindness,

the second of the starter packs

has already been given away.

Another young person has been given more than a cup of cold water:

that particular way of extending welcome is a ‘welcome to your new home.’

That’s just ...awesome...

I may be biased, but...so are all of you -

Keep up this good work:

the work of active welcome.

Practicing acts of kindness -

whether random or intentional -

is part and parcel of extending welcome:

to welcome someone

is to acknowledge their existence.

In a time and culture that’s geared towards suspicion and mistrust,

the act of welcoming someone is perhaps 

the most radical thing that we can do:

and welcoming those deemed

the last and the least -

those who some would prefer to be

out of sight and out of mind,

is a pretty random act of kindness indeed:

something that seems to make no sense...

And yet,

in God’s kingdom of righteousness and justice it makes complete sense.

For in the radical act of welcome,

as you see,

really see others

you may just come face to face with Christ.

And now, to him be all glory, honour and praise.  Amen.

Sermon for Trinity Sunday 2014: 'A Trinity of Love'

And so to Trinity Sunday... gave a brief nod to sermon preached several years back with regard to referring to Rublev's icon 'The hospitality of Abraham'.  

Had stumbled upon the legend of St Augustine during the week, so decided to do a little creative rewriting of the story.  Had wondered if, in the telling of the story, the congregation might be poised waiting for a punch-line...and hoped they wouldn't: was wanting to build an initial atmosphere of the strange and mysterious.  Was pleased: it worked

Earlier on in the service, read 'Three', a reading for 3 voices.  

'THREE'

[not sure of the source for this reading, but will happily credit it if someone knows!]

All 3 voices     We believe in God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Voice 1     The three in one and one in three,

Voice 2     God in three persons

Voice 3     Blessed Trinity.

All 3 voices      We believe in the God who came to meet us in Jesus Christ,

Voice 1     Born as one of us,

Voice 2     Preaching and teaching amongst us,

Voice 3     Dying, rising and ascending to bring us life.

All 3 voices     A story in three parts:

Voice 1     Wise men from the east bringing three                

                 gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, to worship the newborn Christ child.

Voice 2     As a teenager he stayed behind in the Temple for three days 

                to argue with the elders.

Voice 3     As a man, he was tempted three times by Satan in the wilderness.

Voice 1     His ministry lasted only three years, yet his teachings survive into the third millenium.

Voice 2     There were three people present at the transfiguration, 

                Peter, James and John, who witnessed Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah.

Voice 3     Nearing the end of his ministry, Jesus vowed to destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days.

Voice 1     He spoke three times about his impending death.

Voice 2     He overheard Peter deny him three times in the High Priest's courtyard in 

                his hour of need.

Voice 3     He was led to sacrifice like the prized three year-old lamb 

                specially reserved for the Passover meal.

Voice 1     He stumbled three times on his way to Calvary.

Voice 2     There were three crosses.

Voice 3     Jesus died at three o'clock

Voice 1     and rose again, three days later.

Voice 2     He gave Peter three opportunities to redeem himself by declaring his love.

Voice 3     And commands us to love three times: ourselves, our neighbours and God.

Voice 1     We believe in the Holy Trinity,

Voice 2     God in three persons:

Voice 3     Father, Son and Holy Spirit. 

All 3 voices     We believe in God.

Sermon: 'A Trinity of Love'

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts 

be acceptable in your sight, 

O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer.  Amen.

It was a mystery.

And he had been puzzling over it for near on 30 years.

He had written thousands upon

thousands of words

and yet, none of them felt adequate.

All of them fell short of the mark.

How do you describe the indescribable?

How do you try to comprehend the incomprehensible?

It was a daunting task;

It was madness:

a work that could never be completed

in a single lifetime.

It was a mystery, a puzzle, an enigma.

One day, as he walked on the beach,

his mind overwhelmed by the

immensity of the task,

he saw a young child playing.

As he watched, the child dug a small hole,

then ran to the water’s edge with a shell in hand.

Gently, carefully, the child filled the shell with water

and tiptoed back across the sand.

The shell was upturned, and water trickled into the hole;

the child then went back to the water’s edge.

The great thinker watched, as again, and again,

the child with the tiny shell 

moved between the water’s edge and the hole,

collecting, carrying, pouring.

Walking up to the child, he smiled.

‘What are you doing, little one?’ he asked.

The child looked up at him with a solemn face and replied:

‘I’m trying to pour the ocean into this hole.’

The great thinker considered the child’s answer for a moment

and responded gently:

‘But the ocean is vast. 

What makes you think that you can empty the immense ocean

into this tiny hole,

with just a small shell?’

The child continued to look solemnly at the great thinker and said quietly:

‘And what makes you think that you can comprehend the immensity of God

with your tiny mind.’

And with that, the child vanished

leaving the great thinker alone

on that empty beach

looking at a tiny hole in which sea water

seeped into damp sand...

Today we celebrate, and reflect upon, mystery:

a mystery that the Church has puzzled over for near on 2 000 years.

There have been thousands of words written -

including the thousands written by the great thinker we heard about in the story -

the 5^th century African theologian Augustine -

and while the story of Augustine’s

strange beach encounter

may be mere legend....

in this second decade of the 21^st century

we are still none the wiser about the mystery he was pondering.

Words are not enough;

all of them fall far short of the mark

as we try to describe the indescribable,

and comprehend the incomprehensible:

the mystery and immensity of God,

Father

Son

and Holy Spirit -

one God

in three persons...

...blessed Trinity.

It is a mystery

this business of the Trinity

yet, every year, for near-on 2 000 years,

church communities have listened as preachers have used a variety of examples 

to try and come close to explaining the inexplicable:

God like a shamrock - three leaves but one stem

God like water in 3 forms: water, steam, ice...

but still water

God like an egg: shell, yolk, white...

All of these okay, but yet, not quite right.

It’s a tough job...

so perhaps we should just stick to the

Athenasian Creed -

you can almost hear the writers sighing and shrugging as they wrote:

God the Father: incomprehensible

God the Son: incomprehensible

God the Holy Spirit: incomprehensible.

But is mystery necessarily a bad thing?

And will we cope if we haven’t got the answer

to every single question this side of heaven? 

I suspect... yes.

And I also suspect, from scripture, that we don’t get to know the whole shebang 

this side of heaven anyway:

Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians, notes:

‘for now we know in part: then we shall see,

face to face.’

Personally, I kinda like the anticipation, and of knowing 

there’s a whole lot more to come.

So, if we don’t get to unravel the whole mystery of who God is 

and what this matter of the Trinity is about, 

where might we go from here?

If we explore God as Trinity within the context

of love and belonging and relationship,

- concepts that are a little more easy to get our heads around -

how might that affect the way in which we live our lives?

In a small nod to ecumenism: the 1982 communion liturgy 

of the Scottish Episcopal Church, 

paraphrasing the 1^st Letter of John, states that:
‘God is love and we are God’s children.

There is no room for fear in love.

We love, because God loved us first.’

For me, this gets to the heart of the matter:

relationships of love.

God is love...

and our response to that love.

In the 16^th century, the Russian artist

Andrei Rublev

tried to paint his understanding of the Trinity:

Father, Son, and Spirit.

It’s the picture you have in front of you

on your order of service - and up on the screen. 

Rublev was very much trying to demonstrate

a sense of God living in harmonious

and perfect community.

This sense of unity within the relationship of each of the figures 

is indicated by the way their heads incline one to the other, 

almost making an outline of a circle. This shows how they're 

bound together as one by a common will and mutual love: 

love unites them.

...God, as a Trinity of love:

God the Father: the one who loves

God the Son: the beloved

God the Holy Spirit: the love that flows so strongly between Father and Son, 

that it takes on shape and substance of its own.

And, mirroring this, for us created in God’s image, we might ask:

How do we love?

Who do we love?

What is the impact of that love on others?

It is a mystery, this business of the Trinity

and yet, the overarching theme appears to be about community;

to be about relationship.

In our readings this morning,

both contained mention of God as Trinity:

it’s the formula Jesus gives his followers

when he sends them out to make disciples and to baptise them -

in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit -

the holy community that is God.

And the one who is baptised, enters into the church -

the community of God’s people.

As God is in the perfect community of the Trinity,

so those who believe

are to live within the context of community -

journeying together into the mystery

and heart of God

and learning and following, despite our imperfections, the way of love.

This sense of relationship - of belonging to God -

and of being a part of God’s people -

is brought out in our reading from 2^nd Corinthians.

And the background to the reading from Corinthians is significant:

Paul is writing to a community that’s wracked with in-fighting,

jostling for power positions,

squabbling over doctrine,

and causing scandal throughout the city, due to some quite 

outrageous behaviour among the believers.

Here, at the end of his letter, Paul is reminding 

this rather fractious community of believers

of whose they are,

and how they should live...

lives modelled on the holy and harmonious relationship

of Father, Son, and Spirit:

lives lived in grace, love, and fellowship.

And every time we say the grace together -

which is from this passage -

it’s a handy reminder to us, 

of just whose we are and how we should live -

how we should love God, and love one another.

And there’s an openness to love.

Our painting by Rublev has an open space

at the front:

it’s as if we’re being invited in to sit at the table...

God looks outwards, not inwards -

looking out in love towards us,

towards the world.

In turn, we are to look outwards not inwards -

look in love at the wider world around us:

to welcome all people,

to demonstrate heavenly hospitality

on earth as it is in heaven:

to build communities of love -

as in the prayer of St Francis:

‘where there is hatred, sow love,

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.’
And, as we go out marching in the light of God, and into the world, 

and build communities of love, 

we have the promise from the gospel of Matthew:
Jesus says: ‘I will be with you always, to the end of the age.’

['marching' was a nod to the singing group, who were following the sermon

with the song 'We are marching in the light of God']

The Trinity:

it’s a mystery.

One that will continue to puzzle

until the end of time.

Thousands of words will be added to those already written;

all trying to comprehend the incomprehensible

and never really succeeding.

But in the end, what matters is this:

love:

the love of the God who dwells

in perfect community

the love of God whose love is limitless, immeasurable

and welcomes us in -

the love that creates a place at the table for all...

And, as God loves,

so we are to reflect that love

because:

we believe in God:

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,

the Three-in-One and One-inThree,

God in three persons,

Blessed Trinity.

Amen.