Sermon May 26- Holy Trinity Sunday
Please
pray with me. Lord, bless the speaking and bless the hearing, that your Word
may take root in our hearts and bear fruit in our lives, for the healing of the
world you so love, and to the glory of your holy name. Amen.
During
the fall of my second year at seminary, which was the year before I came here
to Luther Memorial for this internship, I had a class called systematic
theology. Taught by a brilliant professor, the intent of the course was to try
to make sense out of how we think about God. I believe it is really important
to wrestle with who God is, so I’m not against this class, but it’s no light
topic, and you can probably imagine, I usually left systematic theology class
in a daze with a mild headache. It’s not easy to understand something as
all-encompassing as the Creator of all things! After we struggled with theories
of creation and Christology, we came to that ever-precarious issue of the Holy
Trinity. Since the third century, Christians have been asking the question, how
can our God be three persons, yet one God? A head-scratching question, to be
sure. Our professor gave us articles to read and had us write a reflection
paper, so that we would have something to say on Holy Trinity Sunday,
rather than avoiding the topic altogether as many Pastors tend to do. So when
Pastor Julie passed out the preaching schedule several months ago and I saw my
name next to this Holy Trinity Sunday, I wasn’t sure whether Pastor Julie was
just passing it off to the intern, or granting me an opportunity to use some of
those things I learned from my studies.
I
am not up to the task today to explain to you the Holy Trinity in some way that
will make perfect sense forever and ever, Amen. A pastor recently commented, as
many of his colleagues were debating about proper explanations of the Trinity,
that instead of explaining the Trinity, as the church in the West has
tended to do with books and terminology and debate, we would do better to
follow the lead of our Orthodox brothers and sisters and dramatize the Trinity,
to play with metaphor and art and song to draw out a better of understanding of
this deep mystery. Like trying to explain what love is, we desacralize its
beauty when we try to chop these mysteries apart and analyze something that is
ultimately beyond our control and understanding.
One of those metaphors that
belongs to our Christian tradition is perichoresis, a fancy Greek word for a
dynamic relationship of movement, often expressed as dance, as you can see in
the song we will sing throughout the worship service today, “Come join the
dance of Trinity.” To talk about the dance of Trinity is to say that God is a
dancing community. The Creator, the Word, and the Spirit exist in the dance of
relationship. That is to say that the image of a old man God, sitting by
himself all alone in heaven is not where the Trinity points us, but instead to
a relational God, a God of give and take, a dynamic dancing community. And this
God invites all of us- and all of creation- into God’s dance. Come, join the
dance of Trinity, we sing; we find ourselves being beckoned into the dance of
Trinity, drawn into community by the Spirit’s invitation.
There is a church in San
Francisco called St. Gregory of Nyssa that is the object of much of my liturgical
envy- I covet the way they worship. Their worship space is in a large circle,
and they have large paintings on the high walls of saints of old and more
recent times- St. Francis and Martin Luther stand next to Anne Frank and John
Coltrane. I’m not kidding! And these saints aren’t actually standing next to
each other, they are dancing. This giant painting is called the “dancing
icon of saints,” and with their hands and feet outstretched, they encircle the
worshipping space from above. Because this church also has a passion for the
arts in community, one of the things they do during their worship is dance. Not
like they turn the lights down and a DJ blasts some music and everyone goes off
in their own corner and jumps around, this is a real community dance. The
worshippers stand in one giant swirl: one person’s hand rests on the shoulder
of the person in front of them, around and around, so from above, you see
layers of this pattern in a giant swirly circle, and the community steps in the
same rhythm- sometimes 3 steps forward and one step back, or other more
complicated steps. Thanks to youtube, I’ve seen them do this dancing to “simple
gifts,” which I’m sure you recognize. 'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the
gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight
As they sang, they did a
relatively simple step- right, left, right, up, down, up, back, feet together.
They became a great moving swirl as they sang this Shaker tune, which was in
fact written to be a dance song. The shakers, that group of charismatic
Christians in the late 1700s, danced as a part of their worship of God, and you
can feel the rhythm. 1, 2, 3 and 4, 1,
2, 3 and 4. So
at St. Gregory of Nyssa the saints here on earth who have gathered for worship
dance below as the communion of saints in the great circular icon dance above
them, joined together in God’s dance for all times and places.
The other thing I love is that
because they dance in a swirl and not just in a circle, there is always room
for more to join in, to put their hand on the shoulder of the person in front
of them and join in. This holy dance is not a closed circle only for a certain
few, but an open-ended swirl, inviting more into the dance. The dance of
Trinity, the very Being of God, is a dance that is always inviting, always open
to new life, always making room for more to participate in this dynamic,
life-giving dance. At the beginning of worship we sang, “Come join the dance of
Trinity, before all worlds begun, the interweaving of the three, the Father,
Spirit, Son. The universe of space and time did not arrive by chance, but as
the three in love and hope made room within their dance.”
Wisdom, Sophia, raises her voice
in the first lesson from Proverbs, describing the way she was present in that
dance from the beginning: “I was God’s delight day after day, rejoicing at
being in God’s presence continually, rejoicing in the whole world and
delighting in humankind.” Rejoice is a word we hear often in the church, but in
Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke, rejoice was the same word as to dance.
So the Creator, the Wisdom of God who is Jesus, and the Holy Spirit rejoiced in
the created world that came into being through their dance, and they delighted
in the creation of humanity. They passed along their delight in dance and gave
us reason to join in, to rejoice and to dance with God.
This congregation has been
blessed with a wealth of musicians who sing and play instruments of various
kinds, and I know that you have felt the power of music to move people. Sure,
emotionally move people, but I mean physically, too. Last night, I went to the
Folklife festival, and even tried out the Scandinavian folk dancing for a bit,
and as you probably know, you can see there musicians from many other parts of
the globe, and what I noticed was that this music was meant to get people
moving. The rhythm’s intent was to bring people into the dance, to shake off
complacency, get off their chairs, and participate. As a banjo player, I know
that there are a few tunes that always get a sure response from people: they
start tapping their toes. It’s like you can’t help it. The Holy Spirit moves
like this, too, capturing us in body, mind, and soul, with something that stirs
inside of us and calls us beyond our fears and insecurities to move along with
the spirit. You cannot tap your feet, you cannot move to the rhythm, but you have to do it consciously,
you have to say, “no.” God doesn’t force us into the dance- it is always an
invitation- but it is possible to refuse to join, to say no. This is very
similar to the way Martin Luther understood faith- we don’t have faith on our
own, it is a gift. Our faith is a result of that holy rhythm, a response to an
invitation that will naturally spring forth in us, though we can choose to say
no and remain firmly planted in our way of living, refusing to move.
The important thing about
perichoresis, the relationship of the Triune God, is that their dance of relationship
is an equal one- the three persons are in a relationship of equality, of full
freedom for each. One person in the Trinity does not dominate the other two,
two persons do not gang up on the weaker part. The relationship is one of
equality and honoring the other as well as oneself, like an equilateral
triangle of love. The relationship is also one of freedom- which is why the
dance metaphor is so appropriate. To dance is to express our freedom, to not be
chained by the “yoke of sin and death,” as our hymn so eloquently says it. It
is no wonder then that the Shakers who danced in their worship also
institutionalized the equality of women, to grant them voice as preachers and
leaders, and led the way in the abolitionist movement to grant freedom to slaves
and break literal chains in the American South. The divine dance spirals out
into the world, taking its joy and freedom and equality into places that only
know the yoke of sin and death, not the divine dance of life.
This is the Gospel, my friends:
that when we find ourselves wearing the yoke of sin and death, God beckons us
with a holy rhythm, calling us onto a dance floor of freedom, and joy, where
there is room for all and equality for all, and a spirit of celebration and
delight in the created world. Rejoice, rejoice, dance, you people of God! Come,
join the dance of Trinity, and we will find ourselves caught up the spiral of a
celestial dance, gathered with all of God’s children, united with and blessed
by the communion of saints who danced the way this far for us and we will
continue their movement in life and in death for those who will come after us.
The last verse of “Come, join the dance of Trinity” is a final invitation: “Let
voices rise and interweave, by love and hope set free, to shape in song this
joy, this life: the dance of Trinity.” May the dance of Trinity call us off of
our chairs, break the chains that confine the world, and invite us to dance
with God in joy and freedom and love. Thanks be to our dancing God, Amen.
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