Emily Schaming
Frank Lloyd Wright once told of an ordinary incident that had a profound influence on the rest of his life. The winter he was 9, he went walking across a snow-covered field with his reserved, no- nonsense uncle. As the two of them reached the far end of the field, his uncle stopped him. He pointed out his own tracks in the snow, straight as an arrow's flight, and then young Frank's tracks meandering all over the field. "Notice how your tracks wander aimlessly from the fence to the cattle to the woods and back again," his uncle said. "And see how my tracks aim directly to my goal. There is an important lesson in that."
Years later as a world-famous architect he liked to tell how this experience had contributed to his philosophy in life. "I determined right then," he'd say with a twinkle in his eye, "not to miss most things in life, as my uncle had." [1]
Sometimes we become focused like this uncle, unable to see anything but the final result or goal. Sometimes we focus this way on God, seeing only one part of God's presence in our lives, focusing only on the teachings of the historical Jesus or on praying to a God who seems far away or just relying on the work of the Holy Spirit. Is it a loss of focus to experience other aspects of God, or is it our opportunity to "wander aimlessly" (as the uncle put it) toward something new and exciting?
This Sunday, the Sunday after Pentecost known as Trinity Sunday, is the beginning of the part of the church year known as Ordinary Time. To me it feels appropriate that ordinary time should begin with the Trinity, with God, the enduring Presence that imbues our daily lives, our ordinary time.
John Wesley once said, "Bring me a worm that can comprehend a man, and then I will show you a man that can comprehend the triune God!" The idea of the Trinity is not an easy one to grasp. Trinity is not a word that appears in the Bible, but the concept of God in three persons certainly does as we saw in our scripture readings this morning. In older creeds, the Trinity is referred to as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Some newer versions say Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. These are certainly functions that God performs, but I don't think it is enough. What about Listener, Teacher, Forgiver? These too, some of God's roles. I have even heard suggested Primordial Nature, Consequent Nature, Superjective Nature. Maybe…but I don't think that quite does it for me either.
Wesley, despite his conviction that the Trinity is beyond our comprehension, does have a nice metaphor to explain its existence, he compares it to three candles lit in the same room giving off one light. No matter what metaphor one uses, the idea of a God who is one and three at the same time has always been perplexing to Christians.
It is important not to get lost in the mystery and end up deciding that God is too complicated. Or to end up completely focused on just one aspect of God.
Instead we can stop worrying about how it the technical aspects of a triune God, and learn to appreciate the multitude of ways God chooses to lead us through our lives. It is not always what we are expecting, and certainly not always what we are planning, but we may discover that God is not limited to three parts, but 3000 or more!
A woman once went into the marketplace, looked around, and saw a sign that read, "God's Fruit Stand". "Thank goodness! It's about time!" the woman said to herself.
She went inside and she said, "I would like a perfect banana, a perfect cantaloupe, a perfect strawberry, and a perfect peach."
God, who was behind the counter, shrugged and said, "I'm sorry. I only sell seeds."
And here is God's challenge for us. God does not give us ideal results. There is no guarantee. Instead, Paul tells us in today's reading from Romans, we are given faith, suffering, endurance, character and hope. From these seeds we can allow God's love to grow within us and within our community.
In the reading from Romans, Paul begins with faith. Faith is the seed, the basis of our Christian lives. Martin Luther said that,
"faith is God's work in us, that changes us and gives new birth from God. (John 1:13). It…makes us completely different people. It changes our hearts, our spirits, our thoughts and all our powers. It brings the Holy Spirit with it. Yes, it is a living, creative, active and powerful thing, this faith. Faith cannot help doing good works constantly. It doesn't stop to ask if good works ought to be done, but before anyone asks, it already has done them and continues to do them without ceasing."[2]
But how do we sustain faith through suffering and into hope? We are united in a community of faith that professes belief in Jesus Christ. Our community joins together to support one another, to practice faith in our daily lives and to worship together. And we gather together each Sunday to pray and sing as did our ancestors who passed this faith down to us. We rely on the people who are with us here today, whose faith deepens and sustains our own. All of us have been through trials in which we suffered so much we felt our faith might be extinguished. But we have found hope through other members of our community through their presence; phone calls, notes and loving help have strengthened our spirits and revived our faith.
It is in these times of struggle that we see what Jesus meant when he said, "the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you." Just as God's unrestricted love took on flesh in Jesus Christ, we see it alive and working in others through the Holy Spirit.
We have been given so much, but sometimes it is hard to know how to love someone as grand and mysterious God in return.
In her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Gilead, Marilynne Robinson shows her narrator, 76-year-old Rev. John Ames, pondering the enormous love he feels for his little 7-year-old son. At one point Rev. Ames writes to his son, "There's a shimmer on a child's hair, in the sunlight. There are rainbow colors in it, tiny, soft beams of just the same colors you can see in the dew sometimes. Your hair is straight and dark and your skin is very fair. I suppose you're not prettier than most children. You're just a nice-looking boy, a bit slight, well scrubbed and well mannered. All that is fine, but it's your existence I love you for, mainly. Existence seems to me now the most remarkable thing that could ever be imagined."
Maybe this is how we love God- starting from the simple wonder that God exists. Beginning in the feeling we have when we try to wrap our minds around the three-in-one mystery of the trinity. We start with the excitement that the God who created the universe also wished to live among us and as one of us. God created us to enjoy a crisp fall apple, early morning bird song, a quiet lake. So we may begin by loving the pure existence of God.
Paul
says that, "God's love has been poured into our hearts though the Holy
Spirit that has been given to us." We need to take time to ask questions about
how we experience this love. In what ways do you feel the Spirit of God within
you? Do you need to find quiet time in your daily schedule to listen to God, to
experience God's wisdom and guidance? This time is important…
But as we all know, life is not made up of perfect quiet moments in nature. Annie Dillard once said, "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." And daily life often means sitting in traffic, cleaning the toilet or waiting on hold with the phone company's terrible music playing. How do we find God in our moments of ordinary time?
There is a Chinese folk story about a group of elderly, cultured gentlemen who met often to exchange wisdom and drink tea. Each host tried to find the finest and most costly varieties, to create exotic blends that would inspire the admiration of his guests.
When the most venerable and respected of the group entertained, he served his tea with unprecedented ceremony, measuring the leaves from a golden box. The assembled gentlemen praised this exquisite tea. The host smiled and said, "The tea you have found so delightful is the same tea our peasants drink. I hope it will be a reminder to all that the good things in life are not necessarily the most rare or the most costly. [3]
We know that we value things that are, I hope, not rare. A beautiful garden, time spent with a child, a good book. Time with God should also not be a rare commodity. It is certainly something we value. But the book of Proverbs does not tell us to look for God's presence in a remote mountain cave, instead it reads,
"Does
not wisdom call,
and does not understanding raise her voice?
2On
the heights, beside the way,
at the crossroads she takes her stand;
3beside
the gates in front of the town,
at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
4"To
you, O people, I call,
and my cry is to all that live."
Wisdom, sometimes thought to represent the Holy Spirit, does not inhabit silence. Instead she is in the busy places of our lives, beside the roads, in life's bustling intersections, at the gates of the town. And she doesn't whisper softly. She calls out to all people.
The
Spirit of Wisdom can teach us the truth about ourselves. Sometimes, voices that
accuse are not voices from the outside but those by which we accuse ourselves.
Wisdom lets us understand that even if we feel we are not spending our time well
or wisely, even if we let our own hearts condemn, we are not alone. God is
greater than our hearts. In spite of our human weaknesses, we are children of
God, and our deepest identity can only be understood in the light of God's love.
We can decide to fill our ordinary time with God's love. We always have the same basic choice: to centre everything on ourselves or on God; to attempt to be our own source, or to welcome everything as a gift[4]. Each morning we are given the gift of 86 400 seconds to fill. Whatever we decide to place in the centre of our lives during that time will be what gives us strength, wisdom and happiness.
Our lives will be filled with extra-ordinary time when we commit our ordinary time to God.