Trinity Sunday
Father's Day
John 3:1-17; Isaiah 6:1-8; Romans 8:12-17
How would someone prove to you that they were from God? What
sign would they have to do—what power would they have to demonstrate? This
is another of those late night dorm room type of questions of no particular
importance except that the question lies at the center of the plot for the movie
"Bruce Almighty" and our Gospel text for today. For those of you haven’t
seen the movie yet—the movie previews on television pretty much establish
the story premise—An aspiring television reporter finds that his days are
turning increasingly disastrous—he feels frustrated and angry at God for
what he feels is God’s increasingly lousy job at helping him through life.
Bruce finally challenges God saying that if he had God’s power he would
do a much better job at running the world. For the sake of a Hollywood plot
and movie ticket sales—Bruce’s God accepts Bruce’s offer—God
in the person of Morgan Freeman informs Bruce that when he leaves the building
he will have powers equal to God—power to affect everything but the free
will of each human being. The intriguing point for the film maker at this point
in the story is that he must now visually demonstrate to the movie audience
that Bruce has God’s power. The question is what powers—what signs
will be presented as proof of God’s power. The movie trailers and previews
show most of the answer—Bruce walks on water and can cause the soup in
his bowl to divide just like the Red Sea divided for Moses (or more correctly,
Charleton Heston in the Movie The Ten Commandments).
How would someone prove to you that they are from God? In our Gospel lesson for today a leader of the religious community of Jesus’ day comes to him under cover of darkness. Nicodemus comes to Jesus impressed by the “signs” that he has either witnessed or heard about. “No one can do these signs that you do,” Nicodemus says, “apart from the presence of God.” Nicodemus is declaring that he is convinced—the signs all point in the right direction—what he sees and hears declares the presence of God. It appears that Nicodemus is a rational and pragmatic man of faith—he believes in that which makes sense—can be experienced or explained. He is thrilled to encounter the power of God in the signs of Jesus. Nicodemus would be right at home in our world today—faith based initiatives are to be proper and legal—programs and signs of faith should be measurable and result oriented. Nicodemus knew what he needed from his religion and Jesus introduced an appropriate new dimension to the old time religion of Abraham and Moses. Jesus was clearly “a teacher who has come from God.” Nicodemus was ready to settle back and let the preacher teach—let him tell a few stories and provide a few warm fuzzy feelings—maybe even let him challenge a few of his traditional views of the world. But Jesus responds to Nicodemus from out in left field somewhere—It’s like asking someone for the time and they respond by saying, “We had spaghetti three times last week.” Instead of pursuing the implied direction of Nicodemus’ comment, Jesus declares “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Other translations of the Bible use the phrase “be born again.”—Either way the statement clearly confuses Nicodemus—birth to him is a once in a life time event—Jesus tries to help him out by calling attention to the spiritual dimension of life—the mystery of the divine that enters our world and our lives. It is common to read this text as an invitation to go looking for the Spirit—to build on the experience of last weeks Pentecost text—to take the roar of a rushing wind and tongues of fire that give voice to the Gospel and say yes—bring it on Lord—show us the signs that will convince us—Let us feel the Spirit’s presence. Since the 17th century Puritans—this has been the most common form of understanding being “born again”—An experience centered on the personal encounter with God—most commonly an emotional emptying and then a potentially exhilarating filling. More sophisticated modern spiritualists have substituted various contemplative and self-centered definitions of the spiritual in their lives—but always with some psycho-emotive component. Lutherans have always been a bit more cautious about such experiences—Most of us were raised to be suspicious of anything with too much emotion—you wouldn’t want to let your emotions get the better of you. In our world today the “signs” we would accept as proof of the divine are many and varied generally depending on your faith background but always limited to the categories we choose to deem appropriate or true or meaningful. Jesus said, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” A wonderful mystery—the wind blows—speaking from the head—the wind blows clockwise around high pressure centers and counter clock wise around low pressure centers—but regardless of its direction the when and where of the wind at any given moment in our world is still a mystery. Reflecting from the heart we know the wind lifts our kites and fills the sails of the boat—wind sweeps through the trees and brushes the fall leaves across our yards—Winds swirl the clouds and breathe life into hot stifling days—A wonderful mystery—the wind blows.
This is a day intended to celebrate the mystery and wonder of God—we call it Trinity Sunday—The Sunday named for our attempted explanation to the mystery of God—the day we strive to articulate the mystery of the faith by affirming the most ancient creedal confessions of the church—the carefully crafted explanations of God from the earliest Christian centuries—the historically conditioned Nicene Creed—the mythically conceived Apostle’s Creed—and the orthodox defining Athanasian Creed—throughout history humanity in and around the church has tried to grasp the power of God and identify what that power means. Miracles of wonder are described again and again as proofs of the mighty power of God—but in the end—well, when God finally returns to meet Bruce after a week or so of being on vacation God explains to Bruce that walking on water and dividing his soup like the Red Sea is just magic—fascinating to be sure but no big deal. What brings Bruce up short is when God says, “You’ve had my powers for almost two weeks now, have you helped anyone? Is the world any better off?” Bruce replies that he has had a few personal matters to attend to first. That is our too human experience—the good idea—the just cause—the right thing to do—as soon as we take care of a few of our personal needs.
Instead of looking at things from our flesh bound earthly perspective—Jesus suggests we be born from a new perspective–from above—Explore the mystery of the faith—our confessions and creed—our experience of the world carried on the wind—creative wind—blowing on the primordial waters of chaos—described in Genesis as the void without shape or form—and the wind blows—the Spirit moves—and the sound of God’s voice explodes the cosmos into being—Oceans and seas—mountains and valleys—high dry places and swampy bogs—all teaming with life—evolving and devolving—genetically defining and yet mystifying—creatures large and small—growing and moving through the millennium until from the mists of antiquity we see the form of human intellect rising not just from the mud –raising shelters first of stones and sticks but then building into villages and cities—fortresses—castles—towers of technological triumph—The joy of creation handed from God to humanity—yet always challenged by the winds of change and the raging sirens of destruction—earthquakes and storms—floods and famines—The joy and beauty of God’s creative presence fills the world yet always there lingers the possibility of the joy fading—the beauty lost. In our creeds we celebrate the creative presence of God the Father and yet cannot explain the innumerable personal tragedies that fill our days—No one who cares and loves another has not at sometime yearned to do something for another—yearned to take away the pain of illness—to accept in place of another the life chilling anxieties and fears of childhood and adolescence—wanted to miraculously restore a broken relationship—To think—if not say the words—“If I were God I would…”
To love and to care draws us into the world so is it any wonder that the God who created the world was drawn into our lives in a human form that could finally say “I know your pain—I feel—I hurt—I even die.” The mystery of the incarnation—of God entering our world is the revelation of that which is born from above And in this moment the wind changes direction—the ancient truths—the prophetic words—the ideals and dreams of humanity to build a better world and make ourselves into better human beings is blown to dust. The wind blows where it chooses—the way to convince someone of the truth is no longer a matter of words but witness—magic is not the quick fix the world needs—incarnation is the key—Making God real in forms that open the future—the Spirit leading us to see and hear and feel and be and do in new ways.
Yesterday a group of us worked for Habitat for Humanity in Waukegan—I had tried to pump up the teens who gave up their Saturday with stories of past projects I have worked on with drywall and siding and roofing of houses and the satisfaction at the end of the day of looking at all that had been accomplished. But one never knows what Habitat needs help with and yesterday was no exception. The Habitat site director explained that we were beginning a new project—we were needed to clear the underbrush from a site to the chippers—the young people worked hard—I was really impressed by some of our teen age girls—for hours they worked pulling out the underbrush and carrying it to the chippers—it was very hot—very dirty—very buggy and scratchy work. And when it was finished all we had was a cleared lot—no foundations or walls or roof or siding or plumbing or anything that we could point to and say that is what we did—we simply created space—But what wonderful space it was—space that will soon be filled by two duplexes—homes for four families to be followed by two more structures and then seven more—When Carter Woods Subdivision is completed there will be homes for 22 families—the largest Habitat project of this type in the Midwest—and all because we created some space that no one will ever remember or note.
That is how it is with the Spirit—from above
things look different—even space holds the promise of shelter and warmth.
Nicodemus came to Jesus impressed by the signs he had seen—but Jesus proclaimed
that Nicodemus and the world had not seen anything yet—Magic is the stuff
of the past and our human hopes—miracle was the commerce of the moment—healings
and wholeness through the forgiveness of sins—But the future—the future
was the place of real wonder—“For God so loved the world,” Jesus
said, “that God gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him
may not perish but may have eternal life.” Here is the sign that reveals
the power of God beyond all human understanding. The fullest experience of God
is the embrace of love that is not limited to a moment or even an event—There
is no part of our world that has not felt the wind—for it blows where it
will—There is o part of our lives untouched by the Spirit of God—There
is no one feeling or experience that says this is God—Sleeping—Waking—Working—Playing—the
wind blows—the Spirit moves—And each moment we are born anew—from
above. That is the mystery—of God—and of our lives—That is the
wonder of faith—the sign of the divine—Not as something seen or even
experienced but as something we are becoming by the grace of God.
Amen.