Thursday, May 31, 2018

An Almighty and Personal God


 Homily for Sunday, May 27, 2018

“An Almighty and Personal God”

            In the centuries before and since the coming of Christ, cultures all over the world have recognized the existence of an all-powerful being. Each culture developed ways to worship God, to demonstrate their reverence for the deity. In many of these cultures—think of the early Greeks and Romans and Hindus of today—different gods and goddesses came to represent the various aspects and needs of human life.
            Since Jesus was born a Jew, and Jews worship the one great God who made a covenant with Abraham, we who have inherited our faith (and the Old Testament) from the Jewish religion believe in and worship only one God. Even so, God’s powers and majesty are beyond our ability to comprehend. Being human, we simply cannot fathom the entirety of God. Our Christian way of explaining the various aspects of God, the various ways we encounter God, has been to represent God as three persons in One: as the Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Every time we say together the Apostle’s Creed (page 120), we encounter an outline of each one’s function as we agree that we worship “God in Three Persons.”
            Still, the Trinity is one of the more complex tenets of our faith. We are adamant that as Christians we worship only one God, but the Trinity allows us to see our God in God’s complexity, exhibiting many different traits and behaving in different ways, based on individual situations. Did the many varied denominations of Christianity arise from that inherent flexibility in the person (or persons) of God?
            Dave and I just returned from a fabulous trip to the Southwest, primarily to New Mexico and Arizona. One of the favorite places we visited was the Taos Pueblo, a Native American community whose current residents descend from generations who have lived in that place for a thousand years. The Pueblo and its long history at the foot of a beautiful mountain are stunning.
            In the center of the Pueblo stands a very old adobe church, St. Jerome’s, a National Historic Landmark. Our young tour guide was a community resident who had just finished her second year of study at the University of New Mexico. She explained that we could enter the little church, but that we must not take photos. She also told us that the statues adorning the altar had been decorated for the season of Easter by the women of the church. We were not quite sure what to expect.
            In silence, Dave and I entered beautiful St. Jerome’s. With grateful awe and delight, we witnessed evidence of the wisdom of the early Catholic priest who had evangelized the Pueblo people so many years ago. The people had obviously been allowed to blend some aspects of their own manner of worship within the Roman Catholic setting. Behind the altar cross and set into the wall is a large arched alcove containing a statue of the Virgin Mary. On the walls to the left and right of the alcove were painted cornstalks, each with three healthy ears of corn. Could those ears represent the bounty of the Trinity, I wonder? Above the cornstalks and circling the top of the arch was painted a green squash vine with yellow squash blossoms. Mary herself was dressed for Easter in a bright pink dress. So were the smaller Mary and two male saints (St. Francis and St. Jerome) in lesser alcoves to the left and right of the altar. All dressed in gauzy pink outfits for Easter! It was a joyous spectacle. St. Jerome’s felt like Graves Chapel to me—the sort of endearing, comfortable home where God is pleased to dwell.
The concept of the Trinity—as the ONE God possessing and demonstrating multiple aspects—has allowed each believer to draw close to the God of his or her understanding. The Church, whether Roman Catholic or Episcopal or Baptist, recognizes our human need to see God to be as multi-faceted and complex as we humans can be.  
The icon I’ve placed today in front of the cross on our altar table is likely the most famous iconic image of the Trinity that exists. It is attributed to a 15th Century Russian artist, Andrei Rublev. As you can see, it is a welcoming image, with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit seated in a companionable way around a table, a wine-filled communion cup in the table’s center. The empty place at the table’s front is an invitation to each one who views the icon—we are asked to see ourselves seated there.
The creation of an icon is called writing, not painting, and this one has a story to tell us. The figure on the left is said to symbolize God the Father. Since the other two figures incline their heads toward him, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. The figure in the middle, at the top of the table, symbolizes Jesus, God the Son. Two details tell us this—he wears blue, the color associated with Jesus, and with his folded right hand extending two fingers on the table, he has just made a sign of blessing. Maybe we are to see the Lord as blessing us, his disciples? The third figure, the one on the right, wears the universal green of the natural world and represents the Holy Spirit, The Holy Comforter, the one who is always with us.
On another level of symbolic meaning, the three figures of this icon are also said to represent the three angels who visited Abraham and Sarah and rested under the oak trees at Mamre. Either way you look at them, the figures in the icon appear to be somewhat feminine, don’t they? At least, they appear to be depicted as gender-less, beyond the stereotypes we might associate with either masculinity or femininity. The image startles us since we are much more accustomed to famous Renaissance depictions of God the Father as a stern white-bearded man, who may point an angry finger of judgement toward us. For some women I’ve known who were raised by terribly abusive fathers, this iconic image of God the Father as someone far warmer and free of anger may help them in their prayers.
Two verses from our gospel lesson today illustrate the complexity of God and the ways we Christians have interpreted God’s love for us. I am positive that John 3:16 was the first Bible verse I memorized as a child: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” What a lovely expression of the immense generosity of God! As a parent myself, it is hard for me to fathom the sacrifice of a child, but that is indeed the message: God loves us that much.
Even so, I find myself concerned about the way this special verse is often taken out of context. When a sign proclaiming simply “John 3:16” is held up in a rowdy public event—say a football game—I fear there is some self-righteous judgement being expressed. The holder of the sign seems to me to be saying to all who read the words, “You had better get right with the Lord or you will burn in hell.” I hope the intention is a worthy one, borne of love. For those reading the sign who are completely clueless about what “John 3:16” even represents, they can innocently ignore it. So, it seems the sign is intended for other Christians who may not be living up to the standards of the sign-holder. I do not believe we are asked to sit in judgement of our neighbors, certainly not by holding up a sign citing a verse’s number while we are among strangers.
If only we always included the next verse, John 3:17 when we make reference to verse 16! Jesus tells us repeatedly that we are not supposed to judge one another—unless we want to be judged in the same harsh way by God. Jesus tells his disciples that we are to forgive each other “seventy times seven.” Verse 17 adds this generous expansiveness of God’s love to the promise of Verse 16: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
This week, as I was pondering the words of scripture and framing this homily, I followed a car on Airport Road that had an interesting license plate. Now this oldish small car had a young male driver, someone with long hair and bumper stickers that suggested he was a hiker and a camper, a lover of the outdoors. I was surprised to see on his license plate this inscription: 1JHN318. Frankly, my stereotype of his looks and car did not suggest that he would be someone quoting scripture, so I was anxious to check out the cited verse in St. John’s first letter (1 John, not the gospel of John) when I got home.
And what did I find? Verse 18 of Chapter 3 of John’s first letter says this: “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” Believing in the majesty of God the Creator, the redemptive love of God the Son, and the intimate, personal fellowship of God the Holy Spirit, this young driver shared with me and all who read his license plate a very clear and gentle instruction from the beloved disciple: “Let us love one another in truth and action.” The part of the verse that says “not in word or speech” seems to be directly aimed at any of our self-righteous condemnations of others. I don’t know about you, but I never have enough time to do all the things I want to do as I try to love others “in truth and action.”  How could I possibly have time to sit in judgment of my neighbor, to consider what may be their faults? Loving others in truth and action, as St. John asks of us in his letter, is enough to keep us busy for a lifetime.
 I know I will always think of this young man and of the people of Taos Pueblo when I need to be reminded of the glorious simplicity of our call to worship a Trinitarian God—in truth and action. AMEN.

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