Trinity:

A Nifty Attempt to Fathom God

Introduction

The liturgical now

The liturgical cycle begins with the Father sending the Son in the Advent-Christmas season. It continues with Son returning to the Father in the Easter-Ascension season. The cycle peaks with the Father and the Son sending the Holy Spirit on the feast of Pentecost last Sunday. So today’s feast of the Mystery of the Trinity is well positioned here at the end of the cycle.

Mystery vs. theology

Mystery in theology has a rich meaning. Mystery is the more than meets the eye. Mystery is the more than the human mind can fathom. On the other hand, theology is an attempt of the human mind to fathom God. So there is Islamic theology: the attempt of Muslims to fathom God. There is Jewish theology: the attempt of Jews to fathom God. And there is Christian theology: the attempt of Christians to fathom God. That God is a trinity of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is the Christian’s attempt to fathom God.

There’s an obvious tension between mystery and theology. Mystery says God cannot be fathomed. On the other hand, theology says, “That might be true, but I’m going to try anyway.” In the thirteenth century St. Thomas Aquinas, the church’s most renowned theologian, tried to fathom God. He wrote volume after volume of theology. But at the sunset of his life he looked upon the pretentiousness of his extensive volumes and exclaimed in Latin, of course, “Nihil est!" It‘s nothing! Though God can’t be fathomed, the renowned Protestant theologian Karl Barth thought he’d try too. Barth proceeded to write volume after volume about the ineffable God. And he, too, at the sunset of his life made sport of his pretentiousness saying, "The angels are laughing at old Karl Barth."

Mystery destroyers

Though we can’t fathom God, we claim to do so every time we have got God down pat. When, for example, we know that God certainly prefers Christians over Jews and Muslims, then we’ve got God down pat, and then we destroy the mystery of God. When we know for sure what God thinks about all the great issues which wrangle the church, like birth control, divorce and remarriage, homosexuality and open Communion, then we’ve got God down pat, and then we destroy the mystery of God. When we know that sexual purity is God’s greatest moral delight even before justice and peace, and that he concocts AIDS to get even with immoral sinners (but does almost nothing special to get even with corporate crooks), then we’ve got God down pat, and we destroy the mystery of God. When we know God’s sexual preferences (i.e., male priests over female priests or celibate priests over married priest), when we even know God’s gender (i.e., he’s obviously a male) then we’ve got God down pat, and then we destroy the mystery of God. When we even know God’s exclusive recipe for making a valid Communion wafer (i.e., it’s got to be wheat and not rice flour), then, indeed, we’ve got God down pat, and then, indeed, we destroy the mystery of God. A God whom we’ve got down pat is an obedient God: we have him obeying us instead of us obeying him.

Usama has God down pat

The world’s most notorious terrorist, Usama bin Laden, has his God down pat. Bin Laden is first and foremost an Islamic theologian whose theology preaches the Five Pillars of Islam, especially the Pillar of Shahada. That’s a one-line personal profession of faith which proclaims “there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet.” That’s the one only right answer about God, and anyone who doesn’t profess it is an infidel. That pat answer about God contributed greatly to 9/11. It sent two 747s crashing into the World Trade Center, bringing down two twin towers and three thousand innocent infidels in Allah’s name and with his whole-hearted blessing. Bin Laden has his God down pat. He has his Allah obeying him instead of him obeying his Allah.

Rev. Phelps has God down pat

The Rev. Phelps also has his God down pat, and he, too, is a terrorist. Matt Shepard was a gay student from the University of Wyoming, whom two skinheads beat to a pulp and chained to a wooden fence out in the country, leaving him to die there in his tears and blood. Consumed with the same hatred Rev. Phelps picketed Matt’s funeral with a sign in which he has his God down pat. It read, “God hates fags and buries them in hell—Romans 9:13.” To this very day he and his group will picket the funeral of any soldiers brought home from Iraq, because they died for a country which endorses homosexuality. At the end of the day, Phelps really doesn’t believe in his Bible or in his God who is a trinity of three Persons loving one another and inviting us into that exchange of love. He believes in himself and his agenda, which he places in God to give it divine and deadly authority. He’s got his God down pat; he’s got his God obeying him instead of him obeying his God.

Lake Jackson has God down pat

The church in Lake Jackson also has its God down pat. This past winter I found myself a very momentary job in the Church of St. Michael the Archangel in Lake Jackson, Texas. There in the vestibule of the church is a huge muscular statue of St. Michael the Archangel. He was positioned there to safeguard a God whom that church had down pat. My first Sunday there made some people unhappy. When I returned for a second Sunday the gospel was about Jesus making the apostles fishers of men. When I suggested solving the acute shortage of priests by ordaining married men and even women as fishers of men, that made some very unhappy. I was told that the church office had received a good fifty telephone calls in complaint, and that the fury caused was like what happened when Vatican II first broke upon the Catholic faithful in the second half of the Twentieth Century. I was basically told that it was either their way or the highway. I knew it had to be the highway. No one, no matter how gentle and responsible, was going to disturb the God they had down pat. No one, no matter how gentle and responsible, was going to rob them of their obedient God.

Who doesn’t love doesn’t know God

In his first letter St. John writes, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love” (I Jn 4: 18). It’s not having the right answers in your head but having the right stuff in your heart that makes you know God. Despite the fact that the Rev. Phelps quotes the Bible and recites the Nicene Creed (as we do after the homily) with its clear profession of the Trinity, he really doesn’t believe in the triune God who is a family of three Persons loving one another and inviting us into that exchange of love. And he really doesn’t know God, for Scripture says the one who doesn’t love, doesn’t know God, for God is love. Neither does Usama bin Laden know God, despite the fact that he religiously recites his Shahada and faithfully falls to his knees in ritual prayer five times a day, for Scripture says the one who doesn’t love, doesn’t know God, for God is love.

Who loves knows God (a)

But John’s words are a two-edged sword. He says, “The one who loves knows God, for God is love” (I Jn 4:17). One day a man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and was waylaid by robbers who beat him to a pulp and left him half-dead. Along came a Jewish priest hurrying to the University of Jericho with a load of theology books under his arm and a ton of theology in his head, but there wasn’t an ounce of love in his heart. He glanced at the poor man lying there and passed him by. Then along came a Samaritan who, in Jewish eyes, was not kosher in his belief. A Samaritan was an infidel and heretic because he worshipped God on Mt. Gerizim instead of in the temple in Jerusalem—the one right place to worship God (Jn 4:20). The Samaritan stopped and poured the oil of compassion into the poor man’s wounds, then hoisted him unto his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest inn where he provided for his care and cure. Now which of the two knew God? Certainly not the Jewish priest with a ton of theology in his head but not an ounce of love in his heart, for Scripture says the one who doesn’t love doesn’t know God. It was the Samaritan who knew God. Scripture says, “The one who loves knows God” (I Jn 4:17).

Who loves knows God (b)

Some years ago a friend called me in the middle of the night around 7:30. He was very excited about a remarkable event which didn’t have God down pat at all. That morning in the Church of St. Benedict the Moor Church on 9th and State (an old stomping ground of mine) friends came to celebrate a funeral Mass for Sister Barbara Ann Kutchera (of the BVM Order). She died of ovarian cancer at the early age of 66. She was buried from St. Ben’s because she chose to worship in that Sunday Assembly. People came from all directions. The parking lot of full. The church was packed. Her own religious Order came fifty sisters strong—none of them dressed the way sisters “are supposed to dress.” Some of them actually wore earrings, I’m told.

Then at the homily of this remarkable event, which didn’t have God down pat, there came a real shocker. The preacher got up to preach but the preacher wasn’t a he. The preacher was a she: the Rev. Linda Hansen. What’s more about this event which didn’t have God down pat, the preacher, who was born and raised a Catholic, left the Church for various reasons, and she became an ordained Unitarian Universalist minister. Unitarians, you know, don’t subscribe to the Trinity. That issue, however, wasn’t the top priority in Rev. Linda’s life.

She was chosen to be the homilist for the funeral because of her warm personal relationship with Sr. Barbara. The homily was carefully crafted, and it softly alluded to the strange twists and turns of the human journey. Rev. Linda spoke also about the warm, human side of Sr. Barbara. She mentioned a visit to Linda in the early 1980s in the San Francisco Bay area. Though Barbara had a major paper to finish, she took the time out to show her the Bay Area which Barbara loved so much. Rev. Linda quoted a passage from Albert Camus’ novel, The Plague, which Barbara and she liked very much. Toward the end of the novel, two of the characters who have spent day and night fighting the plague decide to take an hour off for friendship. After sharing stories of their lives and a brief swim in the ocean, one of them says to the other, “Of course we must care for the victims, but if we don’t take time out for friendship we will forget what it is we are fighting the plague for.”

Now which of these two ladies, Sr. Barbara or Rev. Linda, knew God? They both knew God. Sr. Barbara knew God, not because she was a Trinitarian, and the Rev. Linda knew God, not because she was a Unitarian. Both knew God because they both loved much. Scripture says, “The one who loves, knows God.”

Look what happens…

Towards the end of the funeral Mass, despite the fear that it would go on and on, people were invited to come forth and give testimony to Sr. Barbara. They didn’t go on and on, but they did give joyful testimony to that great lady. A minister of music at St. Ben’s, not a Catholic, told about the time when he was on a retreat with Sr. Barbara and in a reflection session admitted that he found it difficult to express his emotions. Sr. Barbara chimed in, “You know that’s when you wish you were a dog with a tail you could wag.” Testimonies like that at an event which didn’t have anything down pat, made people laugh and rejoice, and it turned a funeral into a celebration which concluded with a soul-filled soloist singing that powerful Negro spiritual (which a gung-ho liturgist would frown upon): ”Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, comin’ for to carry me home.”

Look at what happens when we don’t have God down pat. Look at what happens when we give God all the freedom to do all the things that God can do—to bless all the things God wants to bless. Look at what happens when we don’t have birth and burial and everything else in between down pat: it allows the finest of wines to flow, and it sends us forth, even from a funeral, inebriated with joy.

Conclusion

Trinity: a nifty attempt to fathom God

Obviously this isn’t a crusade against theology or creeds or catechisms which have their place and purpose. There are better things to crusade against. But if, as we recite the creed this morning with its unequivocal but highly theological profession of the Trinity, and we don’t know what the words mean, be at peace. As long as we are trying to be loving human beings, we do, indeed, know God, for “the one who loves knows God.”

And at the end of the day we Christians can compliment ourselves: our Trinity is a nifty attempt to fathom God. What Trinity wants to say is that God is love, but for loving you need more than one. So in God, who is never alone or lonely, there is a family of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and they’re all loving one another. And what’s more, that God who is in loving exchange within himself extends an invitation outward to us to join him in his family of love.