From Solving the Problem to Living the Mystery

Scripture: John 3:1-12

June 3 was Trinity Sunday.  < YAWN > .

According to scripture’s narrative flow and the logic of the church seasons, the Holy Spirit descended upon us the Sunday prior, the Day of Pentecost. Now that the third member of our heavenly trio has been formally introduced, shouldn’t we be able to explain our faith in the context of the old hymn, “God in Three Persons/Blessed Trinity”?

Perhaps – but maybe not. For trying to “explain” the Trinity is not unlike the exercise of the little boy who announced as he settled down in his Christian education class that he was about to draw a picture of God.

His teacher admonished him, “But no one really knows what God looks like.”

The boy’s response: “They will when I get through with this picture!”

June 3 was Trinity Sunday. Celebrating the "Three-in-One" of God, Christ, Spirit. Not a theological problem to be solved. But a relational mystery to be lived.

It seems in our scripture that Nicodemus wishes to engage Jesus in theological debate – trap him, some may say – by slipping out under the cover of night and slipping Jesus some of the most unctuous words of flattery this side of the Apostle Paul.

Nicodemus pours it on: “Teacher, we know you’re from God. No one could perform these signs otherwise.”

Jesus is not impressed. True to his general m.o., he turns the attention away from himself and toward the kingdom – the commonwealth – of God. He frames matters not in terms of theological certainty, but in a living, breathing, mysterious way: “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

To Nicodemus, this scenario presents an unsolvable problem. “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

To which Jesus responds, in effect: “It is not a question of how. It is an answer of yes.” From solving the problem … to living the mystery.

British theologian Jane Williams paints us this picture:

All through the sharp-edged conversation, Nicodemus is trying to get things back on track, back into normal conversational and debating mode, and Jesus won’t let him. The activity of God cannot be ordered by your little checklists, he says to Nicodemus. You have to tear them up and be prepared to start again.

Nicodemus, like all religious people throughout the ages, believes, to some extent, that God is love. But he believes that God’s love is measured and sensible, and follows a set of rules. He believes that Jesus’ healings are largely consonant with the activity of God, but he has some worries about them, which is presumably why he is here, to get Jesus to fill in the proper forms.

(Nicodemus) does deserve some credit for this: many of his colleagues couldn’t or wouldn’t see even this far into the love of God. But it is not far enough, because all of Jesus’ replies to Nicodemus suggest that he has to let go of all the measures that he has been using, and launch out into the unfathomable reality of the totality of God’s love.

“Launch out … into the unfathomable reality of the totality of God’s love.” For Nicodemus approached truth as fathomable: a problem to be solved. Jesus, on the other hand, approached truth as the unfathomable: a mystery to be lived. It couldn’t be explained, being “born from above.” It could only be expressed. For it could only be experienced.

This is what the activity of the Holy Trinity is all about: three perspectives of God’s love communing together, in an unfathomably real way. A three-fold communal, relational model for us all, mysterious in its power: God for us (the Creator), God with us (the Christ), and God within and among us (the Spirit).

Early Christians, when attempting to describe the Trinity, describe it not as a stale doctrine but as an alive activity. They used the descriptor epichoresis: Greek for dance. In other words, these first Christians depicted the Trinity as a dance together throughout eternity, these Three: God for us, God with us (Christ), God within and among us (Spirit).

Later, the great medieval mystic Juliana of Norwich would speak of the Trinity in sort of a proto-feminist fashion. She wrote, “The deep wisdom of the Trinity is our mother, in whom we are enclosed.” Again: God for us … God with us … God within and among us. “Our mother … in whom we are enclosed.”

Can’t explain it. Can’t define it. Can’t “solve” it.

  But we sure can live it. A mystery, to be lived.

God for us: means, I must act on behalf of someone. God with us – in Hebrew Immanuel, the Christ: means, I must stand alongside of someone, be in solidarity with them. God within and among us – the Holy Spirit, what Jesus tells Nicodemus has been birthed from above: means, I must act like I really am created in God’s image and become aware, at least, of its evidence all around me.

How many times in our lives have we attempted to solve or resolve a problem? Perhaps we have arrived at a perfectly logical solution to the situation. Perhaps the light bulb had gone off in our head – “a-HA!” we said. Perhaps we had then written an email with just the right words and just the right emphasis and to just the right person or persons.

Perhaps our solution comes off well. Or … perhaps not. Or, perhaps, not what we had hoped for.

And yet, how many times have we reached out – perhaps not willingly, or freely, or lovingly even – to someone who asks for our help? Reaching out, to do something for them, or standing with them, or even finding the divine spark within that person – within ourselves – or among us both?

We might think we have found the right solution to a problem – have figured it out, have defined it, captured it, got it licked, nailed it down. And, sometimes, we do!

But the type of satisfaction we get – and the quality of contribution we make to God’s kingdom – that generally matters the most to us and to our world does not come when we rationally and passingly solve a problem ... as significant as that solution might be. Our greatest satisfaction and kingdom contribution both generally come when we live out the relational mystery of the Trinity: doing something for, with, and among someone. Perhaps, even, tapping into the holy lying deep within God’s created splendor – namely, us.

What brought me back to church – back to this healing place where I am slowly learning to live the mystery of the Trinity in my life, and ours – was the spiritual experience I received in the process of sobering up in my twenties.

Jim was my first recovery sponsor – that’s Alcoholics Anonymous lingo for a spiritual director. Jim was the first who taught me to utilize a few key spiritual tools the AA program offered me.

Sitting in his living room in The Fan district of Richmond, VA, Jim discussed with me how AA provided a place and program for healing where he could experience – and where I could experience – as I understand it now, God for me, God with me, and God within and among me.

I looked at the Twelve Steps he laid out before me that outlined mysterious relational connections with spirits I could not find in a bottle. These Twelve Steps, I learned, traced their origin to a Christian renewal movement decades before.

I looked these steps over. “How does this program work?” I exclaimed. “How does it really work?”

To this day, I can see Jim’s face. With a kind and knowing smile, he responded with words we could still use today at this church for those who seek a place for healing among us.

Jim said, “How does it work? It works very well, Chuck. Keep coming back. It works very well.”

Whoever has ears to hear … let them hear.

Charge & Blessing …

How does the Trinity work among us? Very well, thank you. Very, very well.

  God is for us – and we, for others.

  God is with us – and we, with others.

  God is within and among us – and so we shall be.

We need not know how. We need simply to say yes.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is with us now …

The love of God surrounds us, each and every day of our lives …

And the Holy Spirit is ours: anytime we name it … anytime we claim it!

  Thanks be to God!