Trinity Sunday

 

June 15, 2025

 

 

+ Last Wednesday, I observed the 21^st anniversary of my ordination to the Priesthood.

 

My priesthood is now of legal drinking age, if it drank.

 

(It, like me, doesn’t)

 

And on Friday, with my ordination anniversary still fresh in my mind, I was reminded of something:

 

Early in my training for the Priesthood, I was cautioned to avoid “lone wolf” ministry, advice I very often blatantly ignored.

 

Knowing when or even how to ask for help when I need it has often been difficult for me.

 

An example of my “lone wolf” tendencies happened about a year ago when I thought I could simply move one of my heavy plastic window-well covers by myself to cut a weed that had grown inside the window-well.

 

I got the cover off without too much trouble but when I tried to put it back I ended up shattering it (in retrospect I realize it was definitely a two person job).

 

Well, lesson learned.

 

On Friday, I ended up asking our very loyal deacon, John, if he could help his chronically  “lone wolf” priest on a rainy day to pick up and install a new window-well cover.

 

Which he did.

 

And I am grateful.

 

Because, well, I couldn’t have done it on my own.

 

And in gratitude for that, I’m preaching on Trinity Sunday instead of him.

 

Usually, at least for the last five years or so, I let Deacon John preach on this Sunday, which he does well.

 

But, today, I will do it.

 

*sigh*

 

So, why my apprehension about the Trinity?

 

Well. . . when all is said and done, at the end of the day, I can say this about myself:

 

I am don’t know how orthodox I am for people.  

 

Let’s face it.

 

I’m pretty liberal.

 

And the accusation of “heretic” has been tossed in my direction more than once.

 

Probably because, as you all know I am unashamed universalist.

 

I do believe that, eventually, we will all be together with Christ in heaven.

 

I really do believe that.

 

I do not believe in an eternal hell.

 

But despite all of that, I am actually a pretty “orthodox” priest.

 

I am pretty cut and dry on the other stuff.

 

I really do believe Jesus is the Son of God.

 

I really do believe he’s the Word of God Incarnate.

 

I believe prayer does make a difference in this world.

 

I believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Bread and Wine of the Eucharist.

 

And let’s not get into my view of Mary and the saints.

 

And then, there’s the Trinity.

 

Sigh.

 

The Trinity.

 

Now, I taught Systematic Theology for 10 years at the University of Mary

 

I still teach Religion on a regular basis.

 

Every time I try to explain it, I find myself nudging over into some kind of heresy.

 

Am I doing a Modalist definition?

 

Or am I guilty of Partialism?

 

So, to avoid anyone getting that ugly “heretic” accusation lobbed at me. I’m not even going to attempt it today.

 

After all, I’m just a priest.

 

I’m not a theologian, nor have I ever claimed to be one.

 

Most of us, let’s face it, don’t give the doctrine of the Trinity a lot of thought.

 

Like you, I really don’t lost a lot of sleep over it.

 

I approach this Sunday and this doctrine of the Trinity as I approach any similar situation, like Christmas or Easter or, as we celebrated last Sunday, the Holy Spirit and Pentecost.

 

It’s a mystery.

 

And I love the mystery of our faith.

 

And let me tell  you, there is nothing more mysterious than the Trinity.

 

God as Three-in-One—God as Father or Parent or Creator, God as Son or Redeemer and God as Spirit or Sanctifier.

 

I know, I know.

 

It’s difficult to wrap our minds around this concept of God.

 

The questions we priests regularly get is: how can God be three and yet one?

 

How can we, in all honesty, say that we believe in one God when we worship God as three?

 

Certainly our Jewish and  Muslim brothers and sisters ask that very important question of us:

 

My answer is: I don’t know.

 

Whole Church councils have debated the issue of the Trinity throughout history.

 

The Church actually has split at times over its interpretation of what exactly this Trinity is.

 

We can debate it all we want this morning.

 

We can talk what is orthodox or right-thinking about the Trinity all we want.

 

But the fact remains that unless we have experienced God in a real and somewhat personal way, none of this talk to the Trinity is really going to matter, ultimately.

 

And there is the key to everything this Sunday is about.

 

We can go on and on about theology and philosophy and all manner of thoughts about God, but ultimately what matters is how we interact with our God.

 

How is our relationship with God and with each other deepened and made more real by this one God?

 

That’s what Jesus tells us again and again.

 

Just love God.

 

In scripture we don’t find people worrying too much about whether they are committing a heresy or not in trying to describe God.

 

What do we find in scripture?

 

We find a constant striving toward a more personal and closer relationship with God.

 

This is our primary responsibility: our relationship with God.

 

How can all this talk about God—how can this thinking about God—then deepen our relationship with God?

 

Our goal is not to understand God: we will never understand God.

 

God is not some Rubik’s Cube or a puzzle that has to be solved.

 

Our goal is to know God. In our hearts. Passionately.    

 

Our goal is to love God.

 

Our goal is to try to experience God as God wishes to be experienced by us.

 

Because God does know us.

 

God does love us.

 

And, more likely than not, we have actually experienced our God in more than one way more than once in our lives.

 

I personally have experienced God in what I would call a tri-personal kind of way (I don’t know what heresy that might be, but I really don’t care)

 

I personally have experienced God as a loving and caring parent, especially when I think about those times when I have felt marginalized by people or the Church or society or by friends and colleagues.

 

I have also known Jesus as my redeemer—as One who, in Jesus, has come to me where I am, as Jesus who suffered in a body and who, in turn, knows my suffering because this One also has suffered as well.

 

And this One has promised that I too can be, like Jesus, a child of this God who is my—and our—Parent.  

 

I have been able to take comfort in the fact that God is not some distant deity who could not comprehend what I have gone through in my life and in this limited, mortal body.

 

In Jesus, God knows what it was to be limited by our bodies.

 

There is something wonderful and holy in that realization.

 

And I have known the healing and renewal of the Spirit of God of my life.

 

If that’s the Trinity—and certainly that’s the Trinity I have experienced in my life—then, it’s wonderful!

 

If all we do is ponder and argue and debate God and God’s nature, we’ve already thrown in the towel.

 

And we are defeating the work of God in this world.  

 

But if we simply love God and strive to experience God through prayer  and worship and contemplation, that is our best bet.

 

No matter what the theologians argue about, no matter what those supposedly learned teachers proclaim, ultimately, our understanding of God needs to be based on our own experience to some extent.

 

Yes, God is beyond our understanding.

 

Yes, God is mysterious and amazing and incredible.

 

But God does not have to be a frustrating aspect of our faith.

 

Our experience of God should rather widen and expand our faith life and in our understanding and experience of God and, in turn, of each other.

 

And that’s where I’m going to leave the whole issue of the Trinity.

 

 

Ok. I’ll say one more thing about the Trinity.

 

Every year, on Trinity Sunday, I place the Andrei Rubelev’s famous icon of the Trinity in the nave

In it you’ll find three angels seated at a table.

 

According to some theological interpretations, these three Angels represent the three Persons of the Trinity.

 

In the icon we can see that all three Angels are shown as equals to each other.

 

In a sense, this icon is able to show in a very clear and straightforward way what all our weighty, intellectual theologies do not.

 

What I especially love about the image is that, in showing the three angels seated around the table, you’ll notice that there is one space at the table left open.

 

That is the space for you.

 

In a sense, we are, in this icon, being invited to the table to join with God.

 

We are being invited to join into the work of God.

 

And I think that is why this icon is so important to me.

 

It simply allows me to come to the table and BE with God.

 

It allows me to sit there and be one with God.

 

No need to wrestle, or debate,  or doubt God.

 

And we realize, certainly in our own life here at St. Stephen’s, that, like this ikon, God is still calling to us to be at the table with God.

 

Here, at this altar, we find God, inviting us forward.

 

And from this table, at which we feast with God, we go out to do the ministries we are all called to do.

 

Today, as we ponder God—as we consider how God has worked in our lives in many ways— and who God is in our lives, let us remember how amazing God is in the ways God is revealed to us.

 

God cannot be limited or quantified or reduced.

 

God can only be experienced.

 

And adored.

 

And pondered.

 

God can only be shared with others as we share love with each other.

 

So, let us sit down at that table.

 

Let us bring our doubts and uncertainties with us.

 

And let us leave them there at the table.

 

Let us let God be God.

 

When we do that—when we live out and share our loving God with others—then we are joining with the amazing and mysterious work of God who is here with us, loving us with a love deeper than any love we have ever known before.

 

 

 

 

Pentecost

 

June 8, 2025

 Acts 2.1-21

 

+ This past week Deacon Suzanne and I met to discuss a few things, and our conversation turned to theology.

 

We discussed some interesting things regarding the nature of God, the Trinity.

 

And the Holy Spirit.

 

It’s interesting to talk to someone else about these things, because it helps put a needed perspective on one’s own views and beliefs.

 

The Holy Spirit does not usually get a whole lot of conversation.

 

But today, it’s all about the Holy Spirit.

 

As it should. 

 

Yes, we are of course celebrating Pentecost today.

 

It’s a very important day in the life of the Church.

 

Today is essentially the “birthday” of the Church.

 

But, in Judaism, the feast of Shavuot was just celebrated last week.

 

Shavuot is a wonderful and important Jewish feast.

 

It is now 50 days since Passover.

 

The word Shavuot is Hebrew for “weeks.”

 

The belief is that, after fifty days of traveling after leaving Egypt, the nation of Israel now has finally arrived at Mount Sinai.

 

And on Shavuot, the Torah, the “Law,” the 10 Commandments were delivered to them by Moses.

 

So, in a very real sense, this is an important day not just for Judaism, but for us as well.

The Torah, the 10 Commandments, are important to us too.

 

Our feast of Pentecost is very similar in many ways. 

 

It now 50 days after Easter.

 

The word “Pentecost” refers to the Greek word for 50.

 

And it’s connection with Shavuot is pretty clear.

 

Shavuot is this  feast on which the early Jews offered to God the first fruits of their harvests.

 

And that is particularly meaningful to us Christians and what we celebrate on this day of Pentecost.

 

It is meaningful that the Holy Spirit came among us on the feast of Shavuot in which the first fruits were offered to God.

 

After all, those first Christians who gathered in that upper room in our reading this morning from Acts, were truly the first fruits of the Church.

 

And let’s not forget that those first Christians were also Jews, gathering to celebrate the festival of Shavuot.

 

God chose to send the Spirit on those first followers of Jesus on just the right day.

 

Still, like nuclear power or electricity, God’s Spirit is sometimes a hard thing for us to grasp and understand. 

 

The Spirit can be elusive and strange and sometimes we might have a hard time wrapping our minds around the Spirit.

 

 In a sense what happens with the Descent of God’s Spirit upon us is the fact that we now have the potential to be prophets ourselves.

 

The same Spirit which spoke to Ezekiel in our reading this morning, which spoke to Isaiah, which spoke to Jeremiah, which spoke to Moses, which spoke through Jesus, also can now speak to us and be revealed to us just as it spoke and was revealed to those prophets from the Hebrew scriptures and through Jesus.

 

That is who the Spirit is in our midst.

 

The Spirit we celebrate today—and hopefully every day—and in our lives is truly the spirit of the God that came to us and continues to be with us.

 

It is through this Spirit that we come to know God in ways we might never have before.

 

God’s Spirit comes to us wherever we may be in our lives—in any situation or frustration.

 

God’s Spirit is with us, as Jesus promised, always.

 

Always.

 

For those of us who want to grasp these experiences—who want to have proof of them—the Spirit doesn’t fit well into the plan.

 

We can’t grasp the Spirit.

 

We can’t make the Spirit do what we want it to do.

 

In that way, the Spirit truly is like the Wind that came rushing upon those first disciples.

 

So, how do we know how the Spirit is working in our lives?

 

Well, as Jesus said, we know the tree by its fruit.

 

In our case, we know the Spirit best through the fruits God’s Spirit gives us.

 

Remember what the feast of Pentecost originally was?

 

It was the Jewish feast on which the first fruits were offered to God.

 

On the feast of Pentecost, we celebrate the fruits the Spirit of God gives to us and we can be thankful for them, and, most importantly, share them in turn with those around us.

 

The Spirit comes to us and manifests itself to us in the fruits given to us by the Spirit.

 

We often hear about Pentecostals—those Christians who have been born (or baptized) in the Spirit.

 

They are the ones who speak in tongues and prophesy and have words of knowledge or raise their hands in joyful praise—all those things we good Episcopalians find a bit disconcerting.

 

These Pentecostals—as strange as we might find these practices—really do have a lot to teach the rest of us Christians about the workings of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

 

I remember the first time I ever attended a Pentecostal church.

 

Rather than being attracted to that way of worship, I was actually turned off.

 

Partly my reason for doing so, is that by that time in my life I had, in fact experienced the Spirit very profoundly in my life.

 

For me, the Spirit of God came to me not in a noisy, raucous way, but rather in a quiet, though just as intense, way.

 

The Sprit of God as I have experienced it has never been a “raining down” so to speak, but rather a “welling up from within.”

 

The fruits of the Spirit for me have been things such as an overwhelming joy in my life.

 

When the Spirit is near, I feel clear-headed and, to put it simply, I simply feel happy.

 

Or, in the midst of what seems like an unbreakable dark grief, there is suddenly a real and potent sense of hope and light.

 

When the future seems bleak and ugly, the Spirit can come in and make everything worth living again.

 

We experience God’s Spirit whenever we feel joy or hope.

 

As Jesus says in today’s Gospel, the Spirit of God is a Spirit of Truth.

 

We experience God’s Spirit when we strive for truth in this world, when truth comes to us.

 

In turn, we are far from God’s Spirit when we let bitterness and anger and frustration lead the way.

 

We frustrate God’s Spirit when we grumble and mumble about each other and hinder the ministries of others in our church, when we let our own agendas win out over those who are trying also to do something to increase God’s Kingdom in our midst.

 

We deny the Spirit when we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.

 

No doubt everyone here this morning has felt God’s Spirit in some way, although we might not have readily recognized that experience as God’s Spirit.

 

But our job, as Christians, is to allow those fruits of the Spirit to flourish and grow.

 

For us, we let the Spirit of God flourish when we continue to strive for truth and justice, when stand up against the dark forces of this world.

 

The Spirit of God compels us again and again to stand up and to be defiant against the dark forces of this world!

 

That dynamic and life-giving presence of the Spirit of God speaks loudly to us.

 

Certainly we see the Holy Spirit at work in the ministries we do, in the love we share with others, with the truth we proclaim as Christians, even in the face of opposition.

 

We experience this Spirit of truth when we stand up against injustice, wherever it may be.

 

This is how God’s Spirit comes to us.

 

The Spirit does not always tear open the ceiling and force its way into our lives.

 

The Spirit rather comes to us just when we need the Spirit to come to us.

 

Though, often the Spirit comes to us as fire—an all-consuming fire that burns way all anger and hatred and fear and pettiness and nagging and all the other negative, dead chaff we carry within us.

 

So, this week, in the glow of the Pentecost light, in the Shavuot glow with the Law written deep in our hearts, let us look for the gifts of the Spirit in our lives and in those around us.

 

Let us open ourselves to God’s Spirit and let it flow through us like a caressing wind and burn through us like a purifying fire.

 

And let us remember the true message of the Spirit to all of us.

 

Whenever it seems like God is distant or nonexistent, that is when God might possibly be closest of all, dwelling within us, being breathed unto us as with those first disciples.

 

On these feasts of Shavuot and Pentecost—these feasts of the fruits of God—these feasts of the fire of God—let us give thanks for this God who never leaves us, who never stops loving us, but who comes to us again and again in mercy and in truth.

 

 

 

7 Easter

 

The Sunday after the Ascension

 

June 1, 2025

 

Revelation 22.12-13, 16-17, 20-21

 

 

+ + This past Wednesday evening, at our regular Wednesday evening Eucharist, we celebrated the Eve of the feast of the Ascension.

 

Now, for most of us, this just isn’t that big of a feast day for us.

In fact, I don’t know a whole lot of Christians who, quite honestly, even give the Ascension a second thought.

 

No one was packing it in on Wednesday for the Ascension Eve Mass!

 

Some of us might look at the Ascension as a kind of anticlimactic event.  

 

The Resurrection has already occurred on Easter morning.  

 

That of course is the big event.  

 

The Ascension comes as it does after Jesus has appeared to his disciples and has proved to them that he wasn’t simply a ghost,  but was actually resurrected in his body.

 

In comparison to Easter, the Ascension is a quiet event.  

 

The resurrected Jesus simply leads his followers out to Bethany and, then, quietly, he is taken up by God into heaven.  

 

And that’s it.

 

There are no angels, no trumpet blasts.

 

There is no thunder or lightning.

 

He just goes.

 

And that’s that.

 

So, why is the Ascension so important to us?

 

 

Well, it’s important on two levels.

 

One, on a practical level, we recognize the fact that, at the Ascension, this is where our work begins.  

 

This is when our work as followers of Jesus begins.

 

We, at this point, become the Presence of Christ now in the world.

 

This is where we are now compelled to go out now and actually do the work Jesus has left for us to do.

 

Those apostles who are left gazing up at  Jesus don’t just simple linger there, wringing their hands, wondering what has just happened.

 

Well, actually, yes, that’s exactly what they do.

 

For a while anyway.

 

But eventually, with a BIG prompting from the Holy Spirit, they get going.

 

They go out and start doing what they are meant to do.

 

But we’re going to talk about that NEXT Sunday on the feast of Pentecost.

 

For now, we’re here, with them, watching Jesus being taken up, out of their midst.

 

For now, we know Jesus is taken out of our midst and is seated at the right hand of God.

 

Again, this is the point in which we become the presence of Christ in this world.

 

Now, I love the Feast of the Ascension!

 

What I love about the feast is that it is more than just going out to do Christ’s work.

 

Which brings us to our second point.

 

Again and again, as we see in the life of Jesus, it isn’t just about Jesus.

 

Our job is not simply to observe Jesus and bask quietly in his holiness.

 

A lot of Christians think that is all it is.

 

But, it’s about us too.

 

When we hear the stories of Jesus birth’ at Christmas, we can look at them as simply fantastic.

 

They are wonderful stories that happened then and there, to him.

 

Or…we could see them for what they are for us.

 

We could see it our birth story in the births tory of Jesus as well.

 

God worked in the life of Mary and Joseph and what happened?

 

God’s own Son was born.

 

But it should remind us that God worked in our birth as well.

 

Well. Maybe not with angels and shepherds.

 

But God worked in our lives even from the beginning, as God did in the life of Jesus.

 

See, Jesus’ birth became our birth.

 

At  Easter too, we could simply bask in the glorious mystery of Jesus’ resurrection from the tomb.

 

But the story doesn’t really mean anything to us until we see ourselves being resurrected with him.

 

His resurrection is our resurrection as well.

 

God, who raised Jesus, will raise us as well.

 

Well, the same thing happened last Thursday.

 

Jesus’s ascension is our ascension as well.

 

What God does for Jesus, God does for us too.

 

That’s incredibly important to understand!

 

We are not simply followers of Jesus.

 

We are sharers with Jesus in all that happens to him.

 

And that is incredibly wonderful!

 

The event of the Incarnation is a reminder that in much the same way God’s Word, God’s very essence, is incarnate in Jesus so God’s Word, God’s essence,  is incarnate in us as well.

 

So, regarding the Ascension, it is important for us to look at what happened and see it not only with Jesus’ eyes, not only in his followers’ eyes, but in our eyes as well.

 

Yes, we are rooted to this earth, to creation.

 

We are children of this world.

 

But we are also children of the next world as well.

 

We are children of heaven too.

 

Jesus tells us in our reading from Revelation today:

 

“See, I am coming soon; my reward is with me, to repay according to everyone’s work.”

 

Our reward, as children of Heaven, is with the One who says,

 

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”

 

What the ascension reminds us is that we are inheritors of heaven too.

 

We, like Jesus, will one day ascend like him, beyond this world.

 

We will be taken up and be with God, just as Jesus is with God.

 

In fact, our whole life here is a slow, steady ascension toward God.

 

We are moving, incrementally, upward toward God.

 

This is our journey.

 

And as we do, as we recognize that we are moving upward, slowly ascending, like Jesus, to that place in which we ultimately belong, we should be feeling what Jesus no doubt felt as he ascended.

 

Joy.

 

Happiness.

 

Exultation.

 

When we are happy—when we are joyful—we often use the word soar.

 

Our hearts soar with happiness.

 

When we are full of joy and happiness we imagine ourselves floating upward.

 

In a sense, when we are happy or in love or any of those other wonderful things, we, in a sense, ascend.

 

Conversely, when we are depressed?

 

We plunge!

 

We fall.

 

We go down.  

 

So this whole idea of ascension—of going “up”—is important.

 

Jesus, in his joy, went up toward God.

 

And we, in our joy, are, at this very moment, following that path.

 

We have followed Jesus through his entire journey so far.

 

We have followed him from his birth, through his ministry, to his cross.

 

We have followed him to his descent into hell and through his resurrection from the tomb.

 

And now, we are following him on his ascension.

 

And it is joyful and glorious.

 

Right now.

 

Right here.

 

In this world.

 

Doing the work God gives us to do.

 

And what is that?

 

It is doing what we must do to make God’s Kingdom present here and now.

 

It means loving—loving God, loving others, loving ourselves.

 

It means doing what needs to be done to love and make God’s Kingdom present right now, even weary as we may be, while we are in this world.

 

Even in this sometimes very ugly, very violent world.

 

So, let’s not just wring your hands like the disciples of Jesus after the Ascension, wondering what to do next.

 

We know what to do.

 

So let’s do it!

 

Here we are.

 

In this place.

 

In this world.

 

Doing the best we can.

 

And just when we think God has provided just what we need for this journey, we find one more truly amazing gift to us.

 

Next week, an event will happen that will show us that Jesus remains with us in an even more extraordinary way.

 

On that day—Pentecost Sunday—God’s Spirit will descend upon us and remain with us.

 

Always.

 

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

 

For now, we must simply face the fact that it all does somehow fall into place.  

 

All that following of Jesus is now really starting to pay off.

 

We know now—fully and completely—that God will never leave us alone.

 

In what seems like defeat, there is amazing resurrection.

 

And ascension.

 

In what seemed like being stuck to an earth that often feels sick and desolate, we now soar.

 

So, today, and this week, as we remember and rejoice in the Ascension, as we prepare for the Holy Spirit’s descent, let our hearts ascend with Jesus.

 

Let them soar upward in joy at the fact that God is still with us.

 

Let us be filled with joy that God’s Spirit dwells within us and can never be taken from us.  

 

Let us rise up, in joy.

 

Let us rise up in us and proclaim loudly.

 

We are children of heaven!

 

We are ascending to our God and your God.

 

And we are gaining our rightful inheritance!

 

And it is good!

 

Very good!  

 

Amen.