Good News x3
2 Cor. 13:11-13; Matt. 28:16-20
May 18, 2008
On the liturgical calendar, we mark this Sunday at “Trinity Sunday,” and the lectionary traditionally places before us some of the readings that name the Godhead in Trinitarian forms. The apostolic benediction from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and the concluding words to Matthew’s Great Commission are among the few places in scripture that offer anything like the Trinitarian formulation of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Thus, on the one hand, there is an invitation, on this particular Sunday, to ponder the nature of God in terms of the mystery of the Trinity.
On the other hand, the best reflection on this mystery that I have recently come across says simply this: “blah, blah, blah, blah, love.”
To translate: any way we look at God, we see love. No matter what theological explanations we use to describe God, we are talking about love. Or, as one of my favorite buttons puts it, “God is Love is enough theology for today.”
The good news is that whether we are talking about the creative breath of Genesis, the Word made flesh of John’s gospel, or the wind and fire of the holy ruah – the spirit of Pentecost – we are talking about a heart of love at the center of all that is beating for all of us. Good news times three!
I was thinking about this last week, during the incredible service we had here, as I listened to the wide variety of scripture passages read in 10 different languages. In every language, the message was the same: God loves us, cares for us, and calls us into loving relationship.
At the same time, the images of God named in the wonderfully imaginative texts of our scripture push us to broaden our understanding, and to be hospitable to a variety of such understandings.
In other words, the witness of scripture itself warns against a straightjacket of orthodoxy.
Why does any of this matter?
Because we share a common longing to be touched by the spirit.
As Jackson Browne put it in one of my favorite songs,
“Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon.
Hunger in the banquet, hunger in the bride and groom.
Hunger on the TV, hunger on the printed page.
And there’s a God-sized hunger underneath the questions of the age.”[1]
There’s a God-sized hunger underneath the questions of the age. I understand that lyric that same way I understand the notion that there is a God-shaped hole in each of our hearts. That hunger demands to be fed; that hole demands to be filled.
We will feed it and fill it with something: entertainment, food, sex, drugs, sports, risk, money, power. The question, as the many authors of scripture seemed commonly to understand, is not whether or not one believes in god, but, instead, which god do you believe in? Which god will you worship? Which god will you center your lives on?
The lectionary passages on this particular Sunday – a Sunday that calls us to reflect for a moment on these fundamental questions – tell us that the maker of heaven and earth is a God who calls all of creation “good.” The Genesis passage, with its plural reference to God – “we will create them in our image” – suggests that God is essentially relational; that God is revealed in relationship as inherently communal, or in community and communion. Thus, we learn also something essential and decisive about ourselves.
The apostolic blessing from the conclusion of the Corinthian correspondence reminds us not only of the essential nature of “God-in-community,” but also underscores the fundamental desire of God that we experience peace, that we participate in shalom.
Likewise, the Great Commission at the end of Matthew underscores not only these essential aspects of the nature of God, but reminds us quite clearly that we are charged with inviting others into the same shalom, the same communion with the Creator and with creation.
Taken together – with special attention to the charge to “teach them to obey all that I have commanded” – we hear in these passages an invitation to be clear first for ourselves about who this God is, about the nature of God’s presence with us as spirit, about the way of Christ.
In order to gain such clarity, it is incumbent upon us to share our lives together such that we are, indeed, pilgrims on a journey – learning from each other through sharing our own experiences of God, studying the long tradition of the story that shapes us, growing together as we endeavor to live out the love and justice of the gospel of Jesus Christ as best we can in our own time.
Toward this end, I want to invite each of you in a general way to begin thinking right now about ways that we might do this better among ourselves. In more specific ways, let me invite you to participate in one or more of four quite specific opportunities to learn, to grow and to serve.
First, to get started right away, join us for an impromptu “mini-brunch” and conversation among the various ministry teams of the congregation this morning following worship. Come on down stairs to Wilson Hall and gather around one of the tables and join in the conversation.
Second, almost as quickly as the first, come down to South Arlington tomorrow evening and join in a time of service to the least of these as we bag groceries for the Arlington Food Assistance Center. Then come over to our house for a simple meal and some good conversation as we strive to deepen the relationships at the heart of this community of faith.
Third, respond to this invitation – details of which will come soon – to participate in a study group in the fall entitled “Saving Jesus.” It will be one of the ways that we learn more about our own tradition, and about the way that tradition is being articulated for the 21st century.
Fourth, consider the opportunity to join the next CALL group that will begin in the fall – again, details will come soon.
There is a God-shaped hunger whose pangs each of us experience. How we fill it depends, to begin with at least, on how we imagine God.
We’ll close this morning with a bit of conversation around that question: how do you imagine God, or, if this wording works better for you, what does God feel like to you?
To prompt your thinking beyond my own head-heavy language, I want to share a song with you. It’s called “Metaphor,” and was put together by my good friend, Noah Budin. I arose out of a workshop in which participants were asked to think of metaphors for God. As you listen, I invite you to think of your own metaphors, to think about the images of God in our scripture that speak most powerfully to you, and to ponder what God feels like to you.
So, as it were, listen for words from God this morning through this psalm:
A voice on the shore calling your name;
A hand outstretched light the flame;
Water at the dam waiting to burst;
Water in the desert quenching your thirst;
A lamppost, a beacon when the night isdark;
And when the hammer strikes ignites six-hundred thousand sparks.
I am that I am that I am and will be,
But you are everything to me.
An arrow that flies straight to the core;
A lover who cries but leaves you wanting more;
A rolling river, a bright morning star;
An unstoppable rain speeding right to your heart;
A humble house where the wind blows through;
Your window is open, let me occupy you.
I am that I am that I am and will be,
But you are everything to me.
It’s a trip of the tongue,
It’s a turn of the phrase.
I will open your lips
That your mouth may
Bring you close to love.
It’s what you remember and what you conceive;
What your revere and what you believe;
What you let go and what you forget;
What you relinquish and what you regret;
A melody playing on a whispered breath;
And harmony in the garden at the moment of death.
I am that I am that I am and will be,
But you are everything to me.[2]
posted by David Ensign at
2:25 PM
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