Sermon on 12th June 2022, Trinity Sunday

TRINITY SUNDAY sermon

May I speak in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

As I cross myself now and during the service do I just do this automatically? Or do I make this movement as a sign of remembrance, as a true acknowledgement of the Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And do I really know what Trinity means? The answer is that I don’t and that I cannot explain it. So this could be a very short sermon. All I can say is that this simple gesture carries with it a great deal of meaning, it has been described as ‘the Mystery at the heart of Christian faith’. So, as we make this sign, we move through this vertical axis from God the Father on high down to the birth of his only beloved Son and then, seamlessly, the Holy Spirit descends at Pentecost, penetrating and inspiring us across the horizontal plane where we are right now.

In our opening hymn we sang Holy, holy, holy… merciful and mighty that tells us the Trinity is full of love, justice and power. ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory’ is what the prophet Isaiah (6:1-5) heard when he had his vision of the seraphim praising the Lord of hosts. The hymn goes on God in three Persons, blessed Trinity… which wert, and art, and evermore shall be – so we also hear that these three Divine Principles are not limited by time or space but are behind, and within, the whole of Creation.

Yet the Trinity is not referred to, as such, in the bible although the idea of it does appear in various places. In the New Testament, the most definitive references are in Matthew at the baptism of Jesus by St John the Baptist (3:13-17) where we have the appearance of the Holy Spirit, in the form of a dove, descending from heaven, and a voice saying: ‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’ – so Holy Spirit, Son and Father. And later in the same gospel, (28:18), Jesus tells his disciples to baptise all nations in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

But now let us look at the beautiful image of the well-known 15th-century icon by Andrei Rublev on your order of service. In it, he depicts the three mysterious strangers entertained by Abraham but Rublev does not show them merely as angels but as The Trinity, itself. This story appears in the Old Testament, in Genesis (18:1-22). Was this indeed the idea of the Trinity making an appearance? One anonymous theologian/art historian has interpreted the icon in a most illuminating way and, as I could not do better, I would like to share what he says with you:

‘Abraham receives three visitors as he camps by the oak of Mamre [you can see it in the centre of the background]. He serves them a meal. As the conversation progresses, he seems to be talking straight to God, as if these ‘angels’ were in some way a metaphor for the three persons of the Trinity.

The composition [of the icon] forms a circle around the table, focusing the attention on the chalice-bowl at the centre, reminding us of the altar at Communion [with the three winged figures forming a triangle around it].
Rublev gives each person of the Trinity different coloured clothing. [On the right] the Holy Spirit has a garment of the clear blue of the sky, wrapped over with a robe of a fragile green. So, the Spirit of creation moves over sky and water, breathes in heaven and earth. The Son, in the centre, wears a thick heavy garment of the reddish-brown of earth and a cloak of the blue of heaven. In his person he unites heaven and earth, the two natures are present in him, and over his right shoulder… there is a band of gold shot through the earthly garment, as his divinity suffuses and transfigures his earthly being. [On the left] The Father seems to wear all colours in a fabric that changes with the light, that seems transparent, that cannot be described. And this is how it should be. No one has seen the Father, but the vision of him fills the universe. The wings of the three figures are gold. Their seats are gold. The chalice in the centre is gold, and the roof of the house. Whether they sit, whether they fly, all is perfect, precious, and worthy. In stasis, when there is no activity apparent on the part of God, his way is golden. When he flies, blazes with power and unstoppable strength, his way is golden. And in the Sacrifice at the centre of all things, his way is golden. The light that shines around their heads is white, pure light. Gold is not enough to express the glory of God. Only light will do, and that same white becomes the holy table, the place of offering. God is revealed and disclosed here, at the heart, in the whiteness of untouchable light.

The Father looks forward, raising his hand in blessing to the Son. It is impossible to tell whether he looks up at the Son or down to the chalice on the table, but his gesture expresses a movement towards the Son. This is my Son, listen to him... The hand of the Son points on, around the circle, to the Spirit. In this simple array we see the movement of life towards us, The Father sends the Son, the Son sends the Spirit. The life flows clockwise around the circle. And we complete the circle. As the Father sends the Son, as the Son sends the Holy Spirit, so we are invited and sent to complete the circle... And we respond to the movement of the Spirit who points us to Jesus. And he shows us the Father in whom all things come to fruition. This is the counter-clockwise movement of our lives, in response to the movement of God. And along the way are the three signs at the top of the picture: the hill, the tree, and the house.

The Spirit touches us, even though we do not know who it is that is touching us. He leads us by ways we may not be aware of, up the hill of prayer. It may be steep and rocky, but the journeying God goes before us along the path. It leads to Jesus, the Son of God, and it leads to a tree. A great tree in the heat of the day spreads its shade. It is a place of security, a place of peace, a place where we begin to find out the possibilities of who we can be. It is no ordinary tree. It stands above the Son in the picture, and stands above the altar-table [with the sacrifice] within the chalice. Because of the sacrifice this tree grows. The tree of death has been transformed into a tree of life for us. The tree is on the way to the house. Over the head of the Father is the house of the Father. It is the goal of our journey. It is the beginning and end of our lives. Its roof is golden. Its door is always open for the traveller. It has a tower, and its window is always open so the Father can incessantly scan the roads for a glimpse of a returning prodigal.

Each person [shown in the icon] holds a staff, which is so long it, cuts the picture into sections. Why should beings with wings… have need of a staff for their journey? Because we are on a journey and these three persons enter into our journey, our slow movement across the face of the earth. Their feet are tired from travelling. God is with us in the weariness of our human road. The traveller God sits down at our ordinary tables and spreads them with a hint of heaven.

The table or altar lies at the centre of the picture. It is at once the place of Abraham’s hospitality to the angels, and God’s place of hospitality to us. That ambiguity lies at the heart of communion, at the heart of worship. As soon as we open a sacred place for God to enter, for God to be welcomed and adored, it becomes his place. It is we who are welcomed, it is we who must ‘take off our shoes’ because of the holiness of the ground.

Contained in the centre of the circle, a sign of death. The sacrifice. All points to this space, this mystery: within it, everything about God is summed up and expressed, his power, his glory, and above all his love. And it is expressed in such a way that we can reach it. …We are invited to join the group at the table we are invited to complete the circle, to join the dance, to complete the movements of God in the world by our own response. Below the altar a rectangle marks the holy place where the relics of the martyrs were kept in a church. It lies before us. It invites us to come into the depth and intimacy of all that is represented here.

Come follow the Spirit up the hill of prayer. Come, live in the shadow of the Son of God, rest yourself beneath his tree of life. Come, journey to the home, prepared for you in the house of your Father. The table is spread, the door is open. Come.’

What a wonderful invitation!
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Lindsay Fulcher