Journey's Weekly Homilies
Journey Catholic Community
Trinity Sunday, 6/15/03
Homily: Nancy
Deut 4:32-34,39-40
Rom.8:14-17
Matt. 28:16-20
To whom do we offer our worship?
Who is the God we name here on the Journey? We could take
the time right now and ask every person here to try to answer that
question. We would be here all night, probably, if we did
such an exercise, but oh how amazing such storytelling would be.
In the answering of this question, we would share our faiths and
know each other deeply and in the way that is most real in our
existence.
Who is the God we just sang to? We sang, "You are my
God, I want to thank you as long as live." It's
so easy to sing those words, isn't it? It feels like the
truth inside me when I sing those words. Whoever it is I'm
singing to, THAT God, the one who is somehow beyond my
comprehension, THAT God, is my God, and I do want to thank that
One as long as I live.
The church has given us a feast day this day, a feast day to raise
up in us this very question about our God. It's
Trinity Sunday. On this day, year after year, we
proclaim obtuse passages of scripture that dance around the
unanswerable question. It's Trinity Sunday, and we are
expected, somehow, to meditate on what the theologians and
scripture scholars have discerned about the history of the naming
of God in this way. This Trinity idea is a mystery that has
inspired libraries full of books, and lifetimes of study and
research. It's a mystery that has invoked our most personal
confrontations with belief. This Trinity is a mystery that
has confounded people for at least 1700 years.
I would like you to know where the question begins for me.
We gather here to worship, to offer our thanksgiving, to praise
the one who is source of all good, to petition for mercy, to raise
our many voices as ONE voice in an offering of ourselves along
with the human life of our brother, Jesus, back to the One from
whom all things come. (Whew! Big statement!) To speak
these life-giving prayers, to invoke the Spirit to come among us
and remain with us and to transform our bread and wine… to do
all of this that we say we will do when we come here, we need to
call God "something." Our traditional
gesture, as we cross ourselves, is known worldwide. People
everywhere, whether they are Catholic or not, recognize this
gesture, and even know the words that are normally spoken:
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
We have struggled with those words over the years, here. And
we have decided to say, "In the name of the Creator, the
Redeemer, and the Spirit among us." We have decided to
name some functions of our God, and to back away from agreeing on
NAMES for our God, here. The Creator is a truth about God we
could all agree on. The Redeemer is a truth about God's self
that became human and lived among us. The Spirit, then is
the mysterious presence of both the Creator and the Redeemer,
still among us, still with us, still promised to us. It's
our compromise (so that God is not only a father in the way we
speak), it's our way of facing the impossible question: Who
is our God? To whom do we offer our worship? We know
our God is mercy, and love…and beyond all names we create.
Naming God, or naming our "gods", is an urge and a
longing that has risen up among all the peoples of the earth, over
all of recorded time. We have psycho-analyzed this intuition
we all have, we have learned the human truth about naming.
Naming someone, naming something, brings that someone or something
under our control. Naming reduces the "Named One"
to human level, to a place that can be understood and controlled.
As a child I was given the nickname of "Cookie."
It was so strong a naming that even in high school, I signed my
papers with "Cookie." It was the name by which I
was known and categorized and judged. I knew that
"Cookie" was not truly my name. As soon as I could
transplant myself to a college town, I became Nancy. I
bloomed as Nancy. I earned respect as Nancy. And then
in my 50's, I changed my last name. These acts of naming
were powerful signs, powerful turning points in my existence.
Everyone has a story about naming themselves, and everyone of us
has a story about how we name our God.
How do we call out to the one who knows us well? We sing
together that in our living and our dying we are bringing our God
to birth. What does that mean?
Our ancestors in faith gave us an inheritance, this Yahweh God of
theirs, whose name they were not allowed to speak. Then
Jesus came among us, a revolutionary who walked among all the
human beings of his time. And this radical soul changed
everything by calling God, "Abba." To do
this, for a Jewish man to refer to Yahweh with a personal and
intimate term, was perhaps the most radical thing that Jesus did
in his active ministerial life. It changed
everything. After Jesus was gone, and they could no longer
see his face, they slowly began to realize they had to decide
whether or not this extraordinary man was actually the Son of God.
If he was devine, if he was a part of God, if he was FROM God, and
if his words were true, if he was the son of the Father, the Abba
he names, then Jesus, and his Abba, were the source of the spirit
of guidance that was wraping itself around them all in their
search.
The love, the immeasurable powerful love, between Abba and the One
who came from Abba, flowed through this searching by followers of
Jesus…the wind and fire of that love turned them and ignited
them … made Pentecost happen. It was "Ruah."
It was the breath of the Spirit, the acceptable, embraceable
explanation for all that was taking place before their very eyes.
The God - Three in One- idea, then, naturally arose among them:
(1) Abba/Father/Progenitor/Parent and (2) Son/Human
One/One-of-us/Jesus and
(3) Ruah/Presence/Holy-Breath-of-God/Spirit Among Us…it all fit.
It took them 300 years to finally speak these truths together as a
people, but the results are our inheritance. Jesus divinity
was no longer a question, he was both human and devine. God
was Trinity. Abba sent this One among us, and the love they
hold between them raises the power of the Spirit out of the depths
and into the very air we breath. If only we can believe it.
If only we can take the leap of faith, and trust it.
Who is our God? To whom do we offer our worship? …To the
God who radiated into consciousness a race of beings we call
human, a self-perpetuating line dance of people who join hands
over time, giving birth and dying, a dance of life that keeps the
memory of the God who made them alive.
Who is our God? A human being by choice, a man who
shook with our laughter and trembled with our tears, and yet went
willingly in our name to a death, so that all death could be
undone.
Who is our God? A presence of love that permeates
everything, within us and around us, between us, over us and under
us, dancing in that very air we breathe…This our God who is
never absent. This is our God whom we can try to ignore and
avoid. But this is our God who is Spirit, and who keeps the
promises that were made. We are baptized to act in this
world in the name of this God.
Who is our God? We go on our way searching for an answer to
this question. We go together. We raise our voices in
song and prayer, and open ourselves to what may be asked of us by
this God, beyond all names.