Lakota Trinity, Fr. John Giuliani
Living Theology
Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
Sunday after Pentecost, 27 May 2018
Homily preached at 8:00 a.m. said, 10:00 a.m. sung Eucharist
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland
Homily preached at 8:00 a.m. said, 10:00 a.m. sung Eucharist
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland
The Very Rev. Fr. Anthony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D., Rector
God, take away our hearts of stone
and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
When I was a boy, I looked forward to the delivery each day
of the local newspaper. I always turned
first to the comics page, and read Charles Shultz’ Peanuts. My favorite Peanuts strip of all time had
Lucy van Pelt and her younger brother Linus seated at a window looking out on a
downpour of rain. Lucy says to
Linus, “Boy, look at that rain. What is
it floods the whole world?” Linus
replies, “It will never do that. In the
ninth chapter of Genesis, God promised Noah that would never happen again, and
the sign of the promise is the rainbow.”
Lucy smiles and replies, “You’ve taken a great load off my mind.” Linus replies, “Sound theology has a way of
doing that.”
Today is Trinity Sunday, a celebration of a doctrine in
theology. For many of us here in
Ashland, both those words—theology and doctrine—tend to be trigger words. They have an intimidating, threatening ring
to them. For many of us, they are
redolent of dry and dusty intellectualism that at best kills love and the
spirit, and, at worst, hurls authoritarian anathemas and excommunications and
burns witches and heretics.
I wanted to talk a little today about how theology—and in
particular the Church’s theology on the Most Holy Trinity—is actually connected
to our life in all the ways that matter.
C.S. Lewis in Mere
Christianity mentions a friend who says he prefers the reality of
experience, the spirituality of going out and experiencing the beauty of God’s
creation, to the unreality of the dry and deadly musings of theologians any
day. Lewis writes:
“[A person who] look[s] at the Atlantic from the beach, and
then goes and looks at a map of the Atlantic, … also will be turning from
something real to something less real… The map is admittedly only colored
paper, but there are two things you have to remember about it. In the first
place, it is based upon what hundreds and thousands of people have found out by
sailing the real Atlantic. In that way it has behind it masses of experience
just as real as the one you could have from the beach; only, while yours would
be a single glimpse, the map fits all those different experiences together. In
the second place, if you want to go anywhere, the map is absolutely necessary.
As long as you are content with walks on the beach your own glimpses are far
more fun than looking at a map” (p. 154).
The important thing to remember when you talk about theology
and doctrine is this: the heart of
Christianity is not in theology or doctrine.
It is in the experience of the living God in our lives and our loving
service to and compassion with others.
“The first commandment is love God.
The second is on par with this: love your neighbor.” This is the life-giving heart of the
Church. The early Church leaders got
into the business of theologizing and defining doctrine only when they realized
that some ways of thinking about God and ourselves were not life-giving, and in
fact got in the way.
How you think impacts on how you experience life and the
world. How you believe colors how you
live. If you believe that God is a
violent, bloodthirsty deity, you probably will not have much difficulty in
warlike behavior of your own. If you
believe that God is a complete mystery, unrevealed and unrevealing, that kind
of takes away any ability for God to actually touch you or change your
life. If you believe you are at heart a
exactly depraved wretch, you may from time to time actually act like one. If you believe that the face of God was
revealed in the face of Jesus of Nazareth, you will probably take very
seriously who he was and what he taught.
What you believe colors how you live and experience the world.
“Heresy” in Greek
simply means a choice, or alternative.
The Church over the centuries has identified many such “choices” as
something to be avoided. A history of
these theological controversies and exclusions make a very sorry story, one
where Christians have not been their best at following Jesus. But the Church first began to be concerned
about such things only when it saw the harm that some “choices” of belief wrought
on a comprehensive and healthy Christian life.
Even judging by today’s broad inclusive standards, many of
these condemned ideas are problematic. Believing
that the Son was created or begotten in time, and that Jesus thus became the
Son, technically called Arianism or subordinationism, suggests that the only
relationship possible with God is simple submission to higher authority. This works all sorts of mischief in the life
of the Church.
Believing that the father, son, and holy spirit are simply
three separate masks of, three separate ways we experience, or three different
functions of, the one person God, technically called modalism, also robs us of
community at the heart of all things and leads to submission to domination as
the sole way of relating to God and to each other.
I know how beloved some of the newer more gender inclusive
three-fold ways of talking about God are for many of us here. “Earth maker, Pain bearer, Life Giver”
touches us because it is grounded in things we touch and feel. But I fear it obscures the inter-relationships
at the heart of God. “Father, Son, and
Holy Spirit” may seem too androcentric.
But when Jesus taught us to call God our father, our abba, he was not
emphasizing gender, but parental intimacy.
Perhaps “Parent, Child, and Sacred Breath” might work. It at least preserves the relationships in
the Trinity rather than giving us different functions and reducing each of the
persons to one of these. It is
important to be inclusive, especially in our theology of God. It is also important to keep a clear mind on
the social nature of God.
The doctrine of the Trinity is hard to grasp. Believing that
God the Father was the God of the Old Testament, with Jesus being begotten as
his Son in the New Testament, is a common way Christians have of trying to make
sense of it. But this too is
subordinationism, and it tends to bifurcate the Bible into a bad “Old
Testament” and a good “New” one. Judaism
is seen as primitive, good only insofar as it points to Christianity. This form of Arian belief leads often to what
is called “supercessionism,” the idea that Christianity has replaced Judaism as
God’s true people. This belief is the
source of most historical anti-Semitism, even secular anti-Semitisms that
reject Christianity.
Liberation theologian Leonardo Boff writes the following:
“We believe that God is communion rather than solitude. Believing in the Trinity means that at the
root of everything that exists and subsists there is movement; there is an
eternal process of life, of outward movement, of love. Believing in the Trinity means that truth is
on the side of communion rather than exclusion; consensus translates truth
better than imposition; the
participation of many is better than the dictate of a single one” (Leonardo
Boff, Holy Trinity, Perfect Community).
Here is the core of the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. It expresses why it was so right to name this
Church here in Ashland “Trinity.”
Community, consensus, free give and take and mutual service—this is what
makes us who we are.
Henri Nouwen says that at the end of each day there are
basic questions that we must ask ourselves to see whether we are following
Jesus. They for me also tell us whether
we are living the theology of Trinity:
“Did I offer peace today?
Did I bring a smile to someone’s face?
Did I say words of healing? Did I
let go of my anger and resentment? Did I
forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions.”
In the name of Christ, Amen.
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