Rev’d Peter Balabanski
Trinity Sunday C – Prov 8 1-4 22-31, Ps8, Rom 5 1-5, Jn 16 12-15
After this sermon, we’ll say the Nicene Creed together. On May 20th, the Christian world marked the 1,700th anniversary of the Ecumenical Council which gathered in Nicaea in the year 325 CE. That council gave us the Nicene Creed. It’s the creed which [with some extra words added in 381 CE at the Council of Constantinople] we say most weeks during our Sunday Eucharist. The Council of Nicaea was convened in 325 by the Roman Emperor Constantine to resolve the controversy of Arianism. Bishop Arius of Alexandria taught that Jesus was not divine but only a created being. As we’ll be reminded when we say the Creed, the Council concluded that Jesus is divine; God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one being with the Father.
So, starting like that, am I suggesting that on Trinity Sunday, we simply gather to confirm a doctrine – an agreed teaching? Or are we here to do something else? I think we’re not here to confirm doctrine, but to explore a complex friendship – how we get to know God together; how beautifully Jesus and the Spirit reveal God’s nature to us, and even through us. Our encounter with God is a relationship that God has started with us. God reaches out to us, whoever we are; wherever we are.
There are some experiences of God that we all share – like the wonder of creation. But even that each of us experiences uniquely. Trying to talk about our experience of God reminds me of that old Indian parable of the six blind friends who came across an elephant. They’d never encountered one before. What’s an elephant like?
They decided each should touch the elephant and then tell the others what they found. Together, they’d surely come to a clear understanding. So first, one of them felt the elephant’s trunk and said an elephant is like a python; another it’s leg – like a tree; another its ear – like a fan; another its side – like a wall; another its tusk – like a spear; and another, its tail – like a rope. Some versions of this parable have them arguing and accusing each other of lying. That’s like people arguing that their description of God is the only true version. The blind friends were on to something. They all said how their encounter was like something that everyone did know about – a leg, a wall, a fan, a rope. All of them told as much of the truth as they could using analogies. And that’s the only way we can talk about God too. The best we can do with God is tell the truth we can perceive, and believe that each other’s partial sense of God is also real and true – however incomplete. Because we won’t all experience God in the same way. It’s a good argument for ecumenism.
How might this partial perception idea help us read our sentence for today? God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father! Gal 4.6 If we work through that from the general to the specific, we start with the general truth that we all have fathers. But our experiences of our fathers are as various as we are; some wonderful, but others of us won’t necessarily want to call God by that name.
God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father! Whether we call God ‘Father’ or Mother’ or use another analogy, today’s sentence says God is the Source of our Being. That’s important. Everyone seems to agree we’ll feel more whole when we know where we come from. Think of that SBS TV series – Who do you think you are? – where people’s true ancestry is revealed to them. We hope these people will end up feeling more whole when they know where they really come from. I believe we are more whole when we can say where we come from too; from the Source of our Being. The voice that cries out from inside us says we share that Source with all of creation in its infinite diversity. We belong!
Back in our scripture sentence, it says that the Spirit of God’s Son cries out from within our hearts. In his Confessions, St Augustine of Hippo wrote, You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.
That cry from our hearts guides us to seek our belonging in the Source of our Being – and so find where we have come from; who we really are. We can enter into this quest full of hope, because we do all know what Jesus is like: God from God, Light from Light, the Son who has revealed God’s nature most perfectly and beautifully to us.
Christ has sent the Spirit to dwell within our hearts. Her voice is calling from within us – we children of the Source of All Being. There’s a voice of great goodness and wholeness and love crying out from within our own hearts. It’s happening. Be sure in the hope that your deepest cries for love and belonging and wholeness are on the lips and in the ear of God. That hope can help transform us into the likeness of our Lord Jesus. Sandy gave me a quote from a book she’s reading by Pope Francis. Hope is the most divine thing that can exist in a human heart.
Let’s pray that we can accept Jesus inspiring – breathing that hope into us, that we might be steadily transformed into a belonging that is whole, kind, and beautiful, and that we may inspire other hearts in all their wild diversity to find wholeness in the heart of God, the loving Source of our Being. Amen