(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on June 16, 2019, Trinity Sunday)
A Tap on the Shoulder
It was Kristin’s first day at her
new school. Her family had moved
states in the middle of the year for her father’s job. That day, when her teachers introduced
her as a transfer student, she could sense the scrutiny of her fellow
students—she could hear their whispers, she could feel the judgment in their
eyes. She hadn’t even spoken a
word, and already rumors were being readied for distribution. At least…that’s what she imagined.
When the lunch bell rang, she
followed the herd of students into the hallway and to the cafeteria. The cavernous lunchroom echoed loudly
with students celebrating their temporary freedom. But the sound was drowned out by the hammering of her heart
within. Where would she sit? Some tables were already
filled. Others had backpacks
strewn across them, claiming seats.
She could already detect the semblance of a caste system: the preps, the
nerds, the athletic types, the rebels.
Slowly she wandered up and down each aisle. With each passing table, her heart weighed heavier and
heavier with dread. Would she have
to sit alone at the empty table?
That would be unbearable.
As she finished walking through
the last aisle with no luck, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Hey, you wanna join us?” Kristin turned around, and for the
first time that day, she looked fully into another person’s eyes. It was a friendly face. The girl pointed back to a table with a
couple of empty chairs and said, “Why don’t you throw your bag down and then
follow me. Today’s breakfast for
lunch, but there are certain things you won’t want to get. The sausage is basically rubber. And the eggs are runny as all get
out. But the pancakes….” As her new friend rambled on, she
breathed deep with relief. The
hammer within her heart had ceased.
For the first time that day, she felt like she belonged.
God Is a Community
On Trinity Sunday, we celebrate God
as three persons. Or as orthodox
theology would put it, three persons but one substance. I’ll confess, that makes no sense. Three does not equal one. The analogy of the three states of
water is sometimes used to explain the trinity. But that analogy falls short, because the trinity insists
that the three persons exist at the same time. This is not God transforming from one state to the next and
back again, but the one God somehow existing at the same time in three persons.
At times I am tempted to let go
of the doctrine of the trinity.
After all, it’s nowhere in the Bible explicitly. It doesn’t appear until nearly two
centuries after the life of Jesus.
But I haven’t let go of it yet.
For as much confusion as it has wrought, the idea of the trinity attests
to a holy intuition that followers of Christ have had for nearly two millennia. And that intuition is this: God is not
an individual. God is a
community. The fundamental essence
of life is not me alone. It’s us
together.
And the good news of this Sunday,
the good news of the trinity, is that it is an open circle. God the
creator, redeemer, and sustainer is not a gated community, guarding the secret
of salvation, but an open one, inviting us to take and eat and have life. In today’s scripture, Paul twice
declares that it is “through” our Lord Jesus Christ that we have life (Rom 5:1-2). Paul is speaking from personal
experience, attesting to the fact that it was Jesus Christ who welcomed him
into the community of God. Jesus
Christ tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You wanna join us?” And it’s not just Paul who attests to
this experience. The gospels are
chock-full of stories where Jesus turns to the outcast, the sinner, the lowly,
the forgotten, and says, “Hey, you wanna join us at the table?” Perhaps more than any other symbol, the
table represents the unconditional welcome of God. That’s why celebrate at it every week. We celebrate at the table to remember
that we are welcomed into God’s community—and so are our neighbors and our
enemies and the strangers we have yet to befriend. We celebrate at the table to remember that the fundamental
essence of life is not me alone, it’s us together with God. (If you look at the back of your
bulletin, you’ll see one of the most famous Christian icons, a depiction of the
trinity by Andrei Rublev, a 15th century Russian painter. Notice how it’s three persons around
the table, and how there’s an empty space on the fourth side—as if to say, we
as viewers are invited to the table too.)
…Draws You Closer
The strange thing about today’s
passage is that Paul celebrates not only the glory of being welcomed into God’s
community. He also celebrates
suffering as an equally natural experience of living in God’s community. I would be very quick to point out that
he does not explicitly attribute suffering to God. He does not say that God causes suffering. But he does suggest that suffering is a
sacred experience, that it somehow casts light on the depths of God’s love, and
that it therefore draws us more deeply into the community of God.
There’s a popular saying in our
world today. “Whatever doesn’t
kill you…makes you stronger.” It’s
the idea of individual strength honed through trial and trouble. It’s a fine idea, and within our
individualist worldview it has a certain truth. But today’s scripture proclaims a deeper truth, which Paul
might have paraphrased this way: “Whatever doesn’t kill you…draws you closer.” Which is to say, suffering can lead in
two directions: death or life. It
can divide us, isolate us, draw us into deep loneliness, lead us into
despair. Or it can invite us into
the community of God, draw us closer to one another, gather us in solidarity
and hope around the table.
I think of grief. How tears shed alone can make us
bitter, but tears shared with others can water our parched souls. I think of addiction. How the torment of loneliness can
deepen our shame, but sharing the struggle with others can lift us with
hope. I think of great
change. How facing the change
alone can weigh us down with despair, but finding companions in a similar
situation of change can inspire us with courage.
In the story of our ancestors in
faith, Abraham and his family, there is a recurring theme. When the family enters into an unknown
situation, or when it finds itself in the midst of hardship, it takes nearby
stones and transforms them into an altar to God, consecrating that difficult
moment, somehow making it sacred. In
one particular case, Jacob actually takes a stone in the wilderness that he
used the night before as a pillow, and he pours oil on it and turns it into a
pillar of worship. For me, the image
of a pillow of hardship transformed into a pillar of worship, of boulders
transformed into altars, is a powerful and hopeful expression of what Paul
says. Our suffering can draw us
more deeply into the community of God.
Our stumbling blocks can become stepping-stones into a richer life.
Of Boulders and Altars
We follow in the footsteps of our
ancestors in faith. Their story is
ours. Just as Abraham and his
family transformed boulders into altars, just as Paul saw his suffering as an
invitation into the loving community of God, so too we are invited in our own
hardships to receive God’s welcome and to enter more deeply into God’s
community.
So I will invite us in just a
moment into a time of silence to reflect on our own lives and the boulders that
stand in our way. How might we,
like Paul, like Abraham, consecrate them?
How might we commit them to God in a way that draws us more deeply into
the community and life of God?
Maybe there is a burden that needs to be shared with a trusted friend or
mentor. Maybe there is a challenge
that you are facing alone, which needs to be faced together. Maybe there is a concern that needs to
pass from personal contemplation into communal conversation. Maybe the boulder is a great change, or
grief, or addiction; or maybe it’s something else entirely. Pause now for a moment to consider the
boulders in your life and how they might become an altar—how they might invite
you more deeply into God’s community.
Scattered under each window are
little rocks. In just a moment, I
will invite all who feel led to get up and take a rock or two from under the
window nearest you as symbols of the boulders in your life. (If you are unable to go to the window,
you might ask your neighbor to grab you a rock or two.) And I would invite you to hold on to your
rocks this week. You might make
them into an altar and place them somewhere visible in your home: on your
dresser, on the bathroom counter, on the kitchen table, somewhere where you
would see them and be reminded of the opportunities you have to enter more
deeply into the community of God, into that open circle of three persons,
around that table where we are all invited to find ourselves in God and one
another. If you feel so led, would
you rise now and take a rock or two?
Let us pray together now and
consecrate our boulders as altars that draw us closer to God and one another.
Prayer
God in three persons,
Whose abundant life is found
In the community of love:
We celebrate your table
And its reminder
That we are beloved,
That we belong.
We ask that in difficult times,
The stumbling-blocks before us
Would not isolate us and lead us
into despair
But draw us closer to you and one
another.
We commit our boulders to you
As altars and sacraments
Where your love might be made
real.
In the name of Christ, who taps
us on the shoulder:
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment