Holy Trinity B

Nicodemus is one of my favorite characters in the Gospel of John. Not only because he has this somewhat humorous conversation with Jesus that goes back and forth, but also because he shows up exactly three times in the Gospel —- and changes each time. The first time, he is curious about Jesus, but challenges him with the questions that we heard in today’s reading. The second time, he is second-guessing his opposition to Jesus and especially that of the rest of the Pharisees. By the third time we meet him, Nicodemus is lovingly and solemnly helping prepare Jesus for burial.

By the end of the Gospel, Nicodemus gets it. There’s hope for him. He grows.

But today, we heard about the first meeting between Jesus and Nicodemus. Nicodemus does not yet get it. Typical of other religious leaders, Nicodemus seems to have a fundamental misunderstanding about what Jesus is all about. Jesus talks about seeing the Kingdom of God; Nicodemus approaches him at night, under the cover of darkness. Jesus talks about being born ‘from above’; Nicodemus misinterprets it merely as being ‘born again.’ Jesus talk about the Spirit; Nicodemus is perplexed.

It’s like Jesus and Nicodemus are talking on two totally different levels.

This weekend, many Christian congregations will be looking at these same texts (RCL…) and will be marking this particular Sunday as ‘Holy Trinity Sunday’ to commemorate the classic identity of our God as three in one, one in three, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Many preachers will try to explain to their listeners about the mysterious doctrine about a God that is somehow both three and one —- not three parts of a whole, but totally three, and at the same time, totally one.

I have to think that there is a whole lot of talking happening at different levels. Either because the preacher is well-versed in this mystery and is preaching to people that really can’t tell what he or she is talking about. Or, more honestly, a preacher and a people down on one level, trying to understand a God on a different level. (By the way, a good litmus test for your understanding of the Trinity is that if it makes perfect sense, it’s probably actually a heresy!)

It could be that we’re all as perplexed as Nicodemus, preachers and listeners alike! After all, God can seem pretty far up there, if you’re talking about levels. The first lesson we heard today described God as sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and just the hem of his robe filled the temple, and winged creatures are above were singing ‘Holy, holy, holy!’

From our Psalm:

“The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars; the LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon. He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox.” (Psalms 29.5–6 NRSV)

It can sound like a God who, upon finding out that you have an incorrect understanding of the Trinity, or maybe just a bad attitude, would zap you with a bolt of lightning.

Which is why I love Paul’s letter to the Romans, a portion of which we heard again for our second reading. It describes less what the one-in-three and three-in-one nature of God is, and more what it does.

“For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—-if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.” (Romans 8.14–17 NRSV)

Do not fear. It’s not what you know. It’s who you know. Or really, it’s who knows you.

The Trinity is not a chapter in the catechism that you have to understand, it’s a relationship that God invites you into.

It’s God punching a hole through the sky … from the almighty God, to…you. And sending not a lightning bolt, but an inheritance. Calling you a child of God.

We do not worship an idea. We do not worship a beautifully constructed theological doctrine. Lutherans believe in salvation through God’s Grace alone, not salvation through avoiding all the wrong heresies about the Trinity.

Now, maybe we like our distance from God. After all, this is a God who has the power to rip trees out of the ground and to make entire countries tremble, or even skip like an ox, apparently.

Maybe we hold beliefs like Nicodemus did that keep us safely separate from God.

Maybe we’ve even turned this beautiful doctrine of the Trinity into a mental exercise that tries to keep God up in our heads, and out of the rest of our lives.

But like Nicodemus, we experience the Good News of Jesus Christ in our lives and it changes everything.

God punches a hole in the sky (and whatever other barriers we’ve put in the way).

No matter what anyone has ever told you about whether you belong in God’s temple; No matter what anyone has ever told you about your identity; No matter what you’ve told yourself:

God falls down through the levels and gives us —- gives us —- the spirit to cry “Abba, Father.” To call God, “Our Father,” and mean it.

Story from one of my professors

My mother grew up in Milwaukee in a mixed religious household. Her father had been brought up Roman Catholic and her mother Lutheran. However, as the youngest of eleven children, she had never become a member of any congregation. So, in her early twenties, she finally began instruction to join a Lutheran church. When her schedule as a nurse and her pastor’s schedule fit together, she would take the streetcar from her house to Bethany Lutheran Church to receive personal instruction from Pastor Beiderwieden, whose daughter was one of her best friends. She went for weeks. Then one Saturday as she made her way back to the streetcar stop, it suddenly struck her: Jesus Christ died for me! The insight was so overwhelming that she kept repeating it. In tears, she turned around and walked all the way back to the church. Bursting in on the unsuspecting pastor, she blurred out, “Pastor Beiderwieden, Jesus died for me!” He looked up from his desk, “Yes, Janet,” he replied with a broad smile. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.

When we experience what it means for the creator of the universe to also love us, as a person, we understand the Trinity better than any professor could explain it.

It really is about who knows you. It’s about God who so loved the entire universe he created that he sent Jesus to break through to us so that each and every one of his children would know that even though our world is giant, and even though it can be easy to get lost, that we, too, are loved. That our neighbors are loved. And that together, through the spirit we cry out to God, “holy, holy, holy.”

Amen, amen, and amen.