For centuries, Christians have been wrestling with the idea of the Trinity, but in the end we have a God who cannot be contained.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
     The Holy Trinity, year B
        texts: Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, John 3:1-17

The love and joy of the Triune God be with you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today being Trinity Sunday, I should stand before you and eloquently explain the doctrine of the Trinity, perhaps even using a three-leafed clover metaphor, as St. Patrick did centuries ago. On the surface, the idea of the Trinity seems pretty straightforward—three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God. Simple enough, right?

The reality is that battles have been fought, and people have died, because of differences in understanding this core element of our faith. There are many heresies defined by particular ways of describing the Trinity, and the eastern and western churches are still divided in part by nuances in this doctrine. And yet the Trinity stands, and we confess it here at Mount Olive each week in the creeds. “We believe in one God, the Father the Almighty . . . . We believe in Jesus Christ, his only son our Lord . . . . We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life . . . .”

I am sure you will be relieved to hear that I will not attempt today to sort out the two millennia of conversations, and arguments, and councils that have wrestled with the question of the Trinity. Far more important for us here today, I believe, is what does the Trinity mean for us? Why does it matter?

Although the word “trinity” never appears in scriptures, the images in our readings for today reveal a lot about the Triune God. In Isaiah and the psalm, we hear about God called Lord, seated on a throne, surrounded by seraphs singing “Holy, holy, holy!” Isaiah is surrounded by the majesty of God, and feels completely inadequate. This is God, Lord of the Universe, deserving of glory, before whom none of us, truth be told, are quite ready to stand. The full majesty of God makes us quake in our boots, at least a little bit.

The power of God revealed in waves crashing on the ocean, in the flashes and crashes of powerful storms, in the silent formidable presence of enormous trees centuries old. God’s majesty surrounds us, overwhelms us, and although it touches us, we can’t quite bear to touch it. It is no wonder that Isaiah’s first response is, “Woe is me! I am unclean, and yet I have seen the Lord!” And it is a miracle of grace that prepares Isaiah, so that he cries “Here am I. Send me!” And God invites not just Isaiah, but us, you and me, to go out for him, to witness to his glory!

Jesus tells Nicodemus about God-in-flesh, God who comes to us in human form so that we can have life, be saved. God loves us enough to give us God’s very self, to be in relationship with us, on our terms. And in that relationship, because of the death and resurrection of Jesus, our brokenness is redeemed, and our joy is made complete.

God enters fully into our suffering, as well as our joy. God-in-flesh embraces our grief at the death of a loved one, and shows us through the resurrection that death will not be the final word. God enters our joy at the birth of a child, revels with us in the beauty of creation. God sits with us, eats with us, laughs with us, cries with us. Because God revealed Godself to us in Jesus, we know that God is not only majesty and splendor and power, but intimately involved in our everyday life. Because God became fully human, we know we are never alone. We have a God who understands what it is to be human!

The Spirit is perhaps the most difficult aspect of the Trinity for us to understand. It’s like trying to capture . . . well, the wind! “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.” The Spirit empowers us to recognize who we are as children of God, and it is only through the Spirit that we call God Abba, Father. The Spirit in breath brings life to dry bones in the desert, anoints and calls the apostles in fire at Pentecost, calls Jews and Gentiles alike to baptism in the days of the early church. “The wind blows where it chooses . . .”

Revealed in the Trinity, our God is all these things for us—majesty and power, a fellow traveler intimately acquainted with our human experience, one who tells us who we are and empowers us to witness to the world. There are three persons in our one God. And when these persons come together in the one God, something happens that goes far beyond division of labor, each person filling their appointed role. It cannot be adequately captured in any one metaphor, although I am sure you can imagine that doesn’t stop me from trying!

In Quest for the Living God, Catholic feminist theologian Elizabeth Johnson describes the Trinity as three persons in a dance that never ends. “The three circling around in a mutual dynamic movement of love, God is not a static being, but a plentitude of self-giving love, a saving mystery that overflows into the world of sin and death to heal, redeem, and liberate.”

Johnson presents an image of God in relationship with Godself, equal, fully grounded in love. This is the motivation for creation—God did not create the world to follow law or to do God’s will, but to be in loving relationship with God and the rest of creation. And the Triune God is a God of constant movement, changing, circling, over-flowing. As hard as we may try to neatly define the persons in the Trinity and understand it, God will not be contained.

Paul tells us that we have been given a Spirit of adoption. We are not slaves, but adopted as children of God. The Triune God who is constantly creating, moving, loving, healing, inspiring, transforming. We have been adopted not just as children of God the Father, and not just as brother of Jesus, but adopted into this creative, moving, loving, healing, inspiring, transforming Trinity. We are adopted into the love that overflows into our broken world.

Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind blows where it chooses . . . and so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” We are adopted into the Trinity, and we are called to follow the Spirit where it chooses. Not to understand, not to define, certainly not to limit—for ours is a God who will not be so easily contained. We are children of the Triune God, and we follow the wind.

Thanks be to God.

Elizabeth A. Johnson, Quest for the Living God: Mapping Frontiers in the Theology of God (New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2007), 213-214.

When Jesus ascended, the disciples stood gazing at the heavens in wonder. A man asked them why they were looking at the heavens. Our work is before us, not above us. Jesus came to show us how to live, to be his hands and feet in the world. 

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
     The Ascension of Our Lord
        texts: Acts 1:1-11, Psalm 47, Ephesians 1:15-23, Luke 24:44-53

The peace of the risen Christ be with you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What a time, Jesus’ friends were having! They had lived and traveled and worked and eaten with Jesus for several years, before he was taken from them and hung on the cross to die. And then, Jesus rose from the dead and came back to them, just when they had given up hope. The disciples are not sure what is going to happen, as Jesus is preparing to leave again. They had seen him several times over the 40 days since Easter, since the day Jesus rose from the dead. And now he is leaving for good. Jesus didn’t overthrow Rome before he died, and the disciples wonder and ask if maybe now he is finally going to restore justice to their world. The disciples still don’t seem to fully understand what Jesus has been doing, all this time.

Jesus responds to their question by telling them that God’s timing is not for them to know, but THEY will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes. He tells the disciples to wait until they have received the Holy Spirit, and then go and share the good news with the world. Jesus did not come so that HE could set things right. Jesus came, and died, and rose again, so that WE might live as Jesus did, so that WE might be empowered to do justice and mercy in this world.

And after Jesus has ascended, the disciples are still sorting through everything that has happened, all that Jesus has told them, as they stare at the place in the air where they last saw Jesus before he disappeared from view. And as they stand there, they get another message about their mission. “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Jesus has gone, and he is coming again, but the real news lies before the disciples, not above them.

The real news for us, too, lies before us, not above us. The promise is there, and we live in hope, knowing Jesus will come again. We know what Jesus did and said while he was here. Our mission is to live as he did, actively, with love, engaged in what is happening in the world in front of us. Our mission is to understand and live knowing that Jesus is all around us!

We are called to look for Jesus among our neighbors. We are called to see Jesus in the man who comes to Mount Olive asking for a laundry voucher. We meet Jesus in the fellow community member learning of a cancer diagnosis. Jesus is among the people of Nepal living in grief for those they have already lost to earthquakes, and living in terror that more will die. We don’t look up to find Jesus, we hear Jesus in the person on the other end of the phone at the pharmacy when we call to renew prescriptions, we see Jesus in the mail carrier delivering our mail. Jesus comes to us every day in our co-workers and classmates, our spouses, our children.

Like the disciples, we can easily forget this simple truth: we find Jesus in everyone we meet, and we are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus, working for justice, caring for those around us. Fortunately, like the disciples, when we forget, we are reminded. “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” And the Holy Spirit inspires and empowers us to do what Jesus is calling us to do: go, share the good news. Jesus is alive. Jesus is coming again. And in the meantime, we have work to do, seeking Jesus in the world, doing the work of Jesus in this world.

Today, we stand with the disciples, saying goodbye once again to Jesus-in-flesh-and-blood, re-focusing on what Jesus has taught us, and what we are called to do. On this feast, it is tempting to look at the place we last saw Jesus, rising to God. It is tempting to ask ourselves and each other, when is Jesus coming again? Where, and how? Is this the time when God will finally heal the wrongs of this world? Together with the disciples, we get our answer: “It is not for us to know the day or hour. Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”

Because Jesus died and rose, we won’t ever be alone, even though we will not physically see him anymore. Today, we anticipate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, knowing that through the power of the Spirit Jesus will be with us wherever we go, empowering us to do his work in this world. We can, with the disciples, be joyful and expectant, knowing Jesus will come again. And like the disciples, we are sent out from here to carry on the work of Jesus wherever we are.

Jesus’ Ascension is not the end of his work in the world. It is just the beginning. Jesus’ life, teaching, preaching, healing was all to prepare us. Jesus has shown and told us what we are to do, after his Ascension. Have we been listening? Are we looking ahead of us, or are we still looking to the sky? Listen to the voices saying, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” Jesus is coming again, we don’t know when and where and how. In the meantime, let us go out and carry on the work he has given us to do.

Amen.

When Jesus ascended, the disciples stood gazing at the heavens in wonder. A man asked them why they were looking at the heavens. Our work is before us, not above us. Jesus came to show us how to live, to be his hands and feet in the world. 

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
     The Ascension of Our Lord
        texts: Acts 1:1-11, Psalm 47, Ephesians 1:15-23, Luke 24:44-53

The peace of the risen Christ be with you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What a time, Jesus’ friends were having! They had lived and traveled and worked and eaten with Jesus for several years, before he was taken from them and hung on the cross to die. And then, Jesus rose from the dead and came back to them, just when they had given up hope. The disciples are not sure what is going to happen, as Jesus is preparing to leave again. They had seen him several times over the 40 days since Easter, since the day Jesus rose from the dead. And now he is leaving for good. Jesus didn’t overthrow Rome before he died, and the disciples wonder and ask if maybe now he is finally going to restore justice to their world. The disciples still don’t seem to fully understand what Jesus has been doing, all this time.

Jesus responds to their question by telling them that God’s timing is not for them to know, but THEY will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes. He tells the disciples to wait until they have received the Holy Spirit, and then go and share the good news with the world. Jesus did not come so that HE could set things right. Jesus came, and died, and rose again, so that WE might live as Jesus did, so that WE might be empowered to do justice and mercy in this world.

And after Jesus has ascended, the disciples are still sorting through everything that has happened, all that Jesus has told them, as they stare at the place in the air where they last saw Jesus before he disappeared from view. And as they stand there, they get another message about their mission. “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Jesus has gone, and he is coming again, but the real news lies before the disciples, not above them.

The real news for us, too, lies before us, not above us. The promise is there, and we live in hope, knowing Jesus will come again. We know what Jesus did and said while he was here. Our mission is to live as he did, actively, with love, engaged in what is happening in the world in front of us. Our mission is to understand and live knowing that Jesus is all around us!

We are called to look for Jesus among our neighbors. We are called to see Jesus in the man who comes to Mount Olive asking for a laundry voucher. We meet Jesus in the fellow community member learning of a cancer diagnosis. Jesus is among the people of Nepal living in grief for those they have already lost to earthquakes, and living in terror that more will die. We don’t look up to find Jesus, we hear Jesus in the person on the other end of the phone at the pharmacy when we call to renew prescriptions, we see Jesus in the mail carrier delivering our mail. Jesus comes to us every day in our co-workers and classmates, our spouses, our children.

Like the disciples, we can easily forget this simple truth: we find Jesus in everyone we meet, and we are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus, working for justice, caring for those around us. Fortunately, like the disciples, when we forget, we are reminded. “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” And the Holy Spirit inspires and empowers us to do what Jesus is calling us to do: go, share the good news. Jesus is alive. Jesus is coming again. And in the meantime, we have work to do, seeking Jesus in the world, doing the work of Jesus in this world.

Today, we stand with the disciples, saying goodbye once again to Jesus-in-flesh-and-blood, re-focusing on what Jesus has taught us, and what we are called to do. On this feast, it is tempting to look at the place we last saw Jesus, rising to God. It is tempting to ask ourselves and each other, when is Jesus coming again? Where, and how? Is this the time when God will finally heal the wrongs of this world? Together with the disciples, we get our answer: “It is not for us to know the day or hour. Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”

Because Jesus died and rose, we won’t ever be alone, even though we will not physically see him anymore. Today, we anticipate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, knowing that through the power of the Spirit Jesus will be with us wherever we go, empowering us to do his work in this world. We can, with the disciples, be joyful and expectant, knowing Jesus will come again. And like the disciples, we are sent out from here to carry on the work of Jesus wherever we are.

Jesus’ Ascension is not the end of his work in the world. It is just the beginning. Jesus’ life, teaching, preaching, healing was all to prepare us. Jesus has shown and told us what we are to do, after his Ascension. Have we been listening? Are we looking ahead of us, or are we still looking to the sky? Listen to the voices saying, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” Jesus is coming again, we don’t know when and where and how. In the meantime, let us go out and carry on the work he has given us to do.

Amen.

We abide in God’s love, and Jesus promised that his joy would be in us and our joy would be complete. We are called to practice joy, and share it with the world.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
     The Sixth Sunday of Easter, year B
        texts: Acts 10:44-48, Psalm 98, 1 John 5:1-6, John 15:9-17

Joy and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

For Christmas last year, we gave my 2-year old nephew a drum. And not just any drum. We found a lollipop drum, with a long narrow handle and rainbow colored swirls covering the metal surface, complete with a drum stick with a ball at the tip. He opened it and laid the drum on the floor and began to hit it with the stick. The sound was somewhat flat with the drum laying on the floor, so I picked up the drum by the handle and held it for him, and he struck it a couple more times, producing a very satisfying—and LOUD—bang that echoed through the house. I watched his face, and in a flash, there it was—pure joy. Eyes sparkling under his curly mop of hair, mouth wide open with all his teeth showing, giggling as he eagerly took the drum from me and marched around the room as he continued to play it.

My nephew’s unbridled joy didn’t come from achieving anything. His joy wasn’t the result of a carefully crafted plan that went something like, “I would be really, really happy if only . . . .” It didn’t come from our approval—he didn’t need an audience, although he certainly had one! The joy my nephew felt simply bubbled up in him as he reveled in wonder and amazement at the sound he could create by hitting the drum with the stick. And his joy overflowed, filling me with joy as I watched him!

What brings you joy? What does the face of joy look like to you?

Jesus says his joy will be in us, that our joy may be complete. Joy, true joy, comes from God, not from external circumstances. It might be thought of as “grace recognized,” the knowledge of God’s love and care for us. And all of this, Jesus tells us, comes out of knowing we are chosen, abiding in God’s love.

I have been watching my garden beds hopefully, since the snow melted, waiting to see if the Japanese Lilac tree we planted last spring would bloom again. To see if the hosta we planted in the summer would come back this year. And sure enough, our tree is covered in buds waiting to burst into leaves, and even the slowest-growing hosta has poked little fleshy spikes of green above the soil.

And the miracle of it, to me, is that I didn’t have to do anything to make that happen. Thank goodness! And neither, really, did the tree, or the hosta. The tree and hosta simply abided in the water and soil that surrounded and fed them, and they grew. They abided in the sun and warmth, and what looked like dead branches and lifeless dirt have been transformed into new life before our eyes.

As we have heard over and over the last few weeks in the Gospel of John, we, each one of us, abide forever in God’s love. We abide in God’s love, and just like the tree and hosta, we are transformed. We are not slaves any longer, Jesus tells us. And we did not have to do anything to make that happen. We have been chosen. Jesus calls us his friends, his joy is in us, and we are appointed to bear the fruit of joy in the world.

Joy is an emotion, one that often takes us by surprise. It is not within our control, and we don’t always feel it. Joy is also a choice, a spiritual discipline, if you will. We can practice joy by listening to God say to us, in the midst of fear, “Be not afraid, I am with you.” God loves us, and in Jesus God laid down his life for us. Just think about that for a moment. Jesus laid down his life for you. Because Jesus died, we can live. Because Jesus died, and rose, we need never be afraid, because we can face even our own death knowing the promise of the resurrection. Each one of us abides in God’s love, a love so deep that death itself has been banished, forever.

We can practice the discipline of joy by seeking evidence of God’s presence in each moment, seeking evidence that Christ is alive, as Mary and Thomas did. In doing this, we consciously abide in the extravagant love of God in each moment as it comes. We meet God in the present. Children, like my nephew, seem to know this instinctively, finding wonder in things that we adults often overlook. You children can teach us adults a lot about joy!

Jesus tells us to love one another—“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” As Jesus’ friends, we are called to love one another, as God loves us. We are to lay down our lives for each other, to love each other with everything that we are, and that too, is joy.

Just like my nephew’s infectious grin and giggle, joy is contagious, and it grows as it is shared. We as a community are called not just to practice joy ourselves, but to go and tell others. In our baptisms, we celebrate the Spirit of God that pours over everyone, without distinction, lavishing us with gifts meant to be shared with the world. And the greatest gift is the joy of the hope we have in Jesus.

Our joy doesn’t come from achievement or success. It isn’t the result of a carefully crafted plan that sounds something like, “I would be really, really happy if only . . . .” It doesn’t come from the approval of others. Joy comes from simply being in the presence of God who loves us abundantly. We are transformed by God’s love in Jesus into people of the resurrection, knowing that whatever happens in our lives, God is with us, God loves us, and the best is yet to come. And because of that, we can be the presence of God’s love and joy for others. The joy of Jesus is in us, and our joy is complete.

Thanks be to God!

We abide in God’s love, and Jesus promised that his joy would be in us and our joy would be complete. We are called to practice joy, and share it with the world.

Vicar Meagan McLaughlin
     The Sixth Sunday of Easter, year B
        texts: Acts 10:44-48, Psalm 98, 1 John 5:1-6, John 15:9-17

Joy and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

For Christmas last year, we gave my 2-year old nephew a drum. And not just any drum. We found a lollipop drum, with a long narrow handle and rainbow colored swirls covering the metal surface, complete with a drum stick with a ball at the tip. He opened it and laid the drum on the floor and began to hit it with the stick. The sound was somewhat flat with the drum laying on the floor, so I picked up the drum by the handle and held it for him, and he struck it a couple more times, producing a very satisfying—and LOUD—bang that echoed through the house. I watched his face, and in a flash, there it was—pure joy. Eyes sparkling under his curly mop of hair, mouth wide open with all his teeth showing, giggling as he eagerly took the drum from me and marched around the room as he continued to play it.

My nephew’s unbridled joy didn’t come from achieving anything. His joy wasn’t the result of a carefully crafted plan that went something like, “I would be really, really happy if only . . . .” It didn’t come from our approval—he didn’t need an audience, although he certainly had one! The joy my nephew felt simply bubbled up in him as he reveled in wonder and amazement at the sound he could create by hitting the drum with the stick. And his joy overflowed, filling me with joy as I watched him!

What brings you joy? What does the face of joy look like to you?

Jesus says his joy will be in us, that our joy may be complete. Joy, true joy, comes from God, not from external circumstances. It might be thought of as “grace recognized,” the knowledge of God’s love and care for us. And all of this, Jesus tells us, comes out of knowing we are chosen, abiding in God’s love.

I have been watching my garden beds hopefully, since the snow melted, waiting to see if the Japanese Lilac tree we planted last spring would bloom again. To see if the hosta we planted in the summer would come back this year. And sure enough, our tree is covered in buds waiting to burst into leaves, and even the slowest-growing hosta has poked little fleshy spikes of green above the soil.

And the miracle of it, to me, is that I didn’t have to do anything to make that happen. Thank goodness! And neither, really, did the tree, or the hosta. The tree and hosta simply abided in the water and soil that surrounded and fed them, and they grew. They abided in the sun and warmth, and what looked like dead branches and lifeless dirt have been transformed into new life before our eyes.

As we have heard over and over the last few weeks in the Gospel of John, we, each one of us, abide forever in God’s love. We abide in God’s love, and just like the tree and hosta, we are transformed. We are not slaves any longer, Jesus tells us. And we did not have to do anything to make that happen. We have been chosen. Jesus calls us his friends, his joy is in us, and we are appointed to bear the fruit of joy in the world.

Joy is an emotion, one that often takes us by surprise. It is not within our control, and we don’t always feel it. Joy is also a choice, a spiritual discipline, if you will. We can practice joy by listening to God say to us, in the midst of fear, “Be not afraid, I am with you.” God loves us, and in Jesus God laid down his life for us. Just think about that for a moment. Jesus laid down his life for you. Because Jesus died, we can live. Because Jesus died, and rose, we need never be afraid, because we can face even our own death knowing the promise of the resurrection. Each one of us abides in God’s love, a love so deep that death itself has been banished, forever.

We can practice the discipline of joy by seeking evidence of God’s presence in each moment, seeking evidence that Christ is alive, as Mary and Thomas did. In doing this, we consciously abide in the extravagant love of God in each moment as it comes. We meet God in the present. Children, like my nephew, seem to know this instinctively, finding wonder in things that we adults often overlook. You children can teach us adults a lot about joy!

Jesus tells us to love one another—“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” As Jesus’ friends, we are called to love one another, as God loves us. We are to lay down our lives for each other, to love each other with everything that we are, and that too, is joy.

Just like my nephew’s infectious grin and giggle, joy is contagious, and it grows as it is shared. We as a community are called not just to practice joy ourselves, but to go and tell others. In our baptisms, we celebrate the Spirit of God that pours over everyone, without distinction, lavishing us with gifts meant to be shared with the world. And the greatest gift is the joy of the hope we have in Jesus.

Our joy doesn’t come from achievement or success. It isn’t the result of a carefully crafted plan that sounds something like, “I would be really, really happy if only . . . .” It doesn’t come from the approval of others. Joy comes from simply being in the presence of God who loves us abundantly. We are transformed by God’s love in Jesus into people of the resurrection, knowing that whatever happens in our lives, God is with us, God loves us, and the best is yet to come. And because of that, we can be the presence of God’s love and joy for others. The joy of Jesus is in us, and our joy is complete.

Thanks be to God!