Pondering the Trinity - John 3:1-17

Several of you who heard Kate’s fabulous Pentecost sermon last week have playfully informed me that you’ve been looking forward to today’s sermon, in which I will fully and clearly explain the metaphysical nuances of the Holy Trinity. Well, I have some unfortunate though perhaps not unexpected news: I do not fully and clearly understand the metaphysical nuances of the Holy Trinity. Maybe next year we’ll let Ragan have a go. 

In Eucharistic Prayer A, we say together the great mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. But this is definitely not the only mystery of our faith. For thousands of years, the doctrine of the Trinity has mystified us with the bold claim that we have one God in three persons. Somehow, our God is one and also three.  

In the philosophy world we might relate this problem to what one of my professors called the “red car fallacy.” It goes something like this: you can have a red, blue car, and you can have a red, invisible car, but you cannot have a red, not-red car. If you want to be really fun at parties, ask your friends where the Holy Trinity fits into this metaphor. Are the numbers one and three mutually exclusive? 

I’m three paragraphs into this sermon and my brain is already fried. What is God up to here? Are we meant to understand how God can be perfect unity and fully relational at the same time? Are we instead meant to lean into the mystery? For those of us preachers, are we meant to be so embarrassed when it doesn’t make sense?

Enter Nicodemus! Nicodemus is the wisest, most educated religious leader in his community and he looks like an absolute clown in today’s Gospel passage from John, which makes him one of my favorite characters in the New Testament. Nicodemus has come to Jesus in the middle of the night, which could go one of two ways. The ideas we come up with in the wee hours of the morning when we should really be asleep are either brilliant, or ridiculous. Only the dawn light will tell.

Like us, Nicodemus understands that something about Jesus, about his teachings and his choices, something about who he is, is compelling, even life altering, and we should listen to him. But beyond that, the details get a little blurry, and the stakes are high. So he approaches Jesus under cover of darkness to confirm his suspicion that Jesus is, in fact, from God.

Jesus launches in. “You got questions? I got answers. Let’s talk about physical versus spiritual birth.” I imagine Jesus was thrilled to have a curious and faithful conversation partner. But Nicodemus very quickly shows his hand and reveals his mental and spiritual shortcomings. In a truly cringeworthy moment, he asks Jesus how anyone could be born from their mother twice.

If scholars found proof that Jesus literally facepalmed here, I’d believe it in a heartbeat. Nicodemus has completely missed the point, and Jesus’ response is not gentle. He asks Nicodemus, “are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?” This stings. Especially on Trinity Sunday. It’s like when a well-meaning parent says, “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”

But before we start feeling too sorry for ourselves, we might remember that elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus tells us that he speaks in parables because he knows the truth is hard for us to understand. And after his resurrection, one of his miracles is opening the minds of his disciples to understand the scriptures, which they could never have comprehended on their own. I don’t think Jesus expects us to fully and clearly understand all the metaphysical nuances of God.

To that end, the conversation with Nicodemus continues, and Jesus draws our attention to a somewhat obscure passage from the Hebrew Scriptures. He says “just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” While this might seem like more of a puzzle, I think it’s a clue about how to respond to things we don’t understand.

If you don’t remember the story Jesus is referring to, no worries. I’m always happy to indulge in a little Old Testament refresher. After the Exodus, the people are struggling with the dangers of the wilderness, including snake bites. They understand this particular affliction to be a punishment from God for their sins. When Moses appeals to God for aid, God instructs Moses to erect a bronze serpent in the middle of the camp, and whenever someone is bitten by a snake, they simply gaze upon the statue to be healed. In other words, in order to rid themselves of the source of their pain, they have to stare directly at it. I’m going to say that one more time. In order to rid themselves of the source of their pain, they have to stare directly at it.

There is deep wisdom here. In order to be cleansed from our sins, we know that we must gaze upon our savior, lifted high upon a cross. This act of bearing witness, gazing upon, sitting with, pondering, is part of our calling as people of faith. While Jesus might not expect us to make perfect sense of the Trinity on our own, we are certainly called to dwell with this mystery in heart and mind and spirit. 

This is something I actually think Christ Church is really wonderful about. Episcopalians are united by our worship practices, but here at Christ Church, we also value critical thinking and holy conversation and prayerful reflection and even silence as part of our common life. Sitting with the image of the crucifixion, pondering the complex concept of the trinity, continuing to engage with the theology even when it’s really complicated, this is a vital part of our faith. It is a difficult part of our faith, but one we embrace wholeheartedly in this place. 

You may have noticed that I have not explained the inner workings of the Trinity. How very astute of you. In truth, while I could wax poetic about the nature of God as creator, as redeemer, and as sustainer, I cannot explain to you how God is both one and three. But I know that the more we think about it, pray about it, and talk to each other about it, the truer and clearer and more life-saving it will become for us. And who knows, maybe one of you will one day be able to clear it up for us, once and for all. Amen.