Isaiah
6:1-8
In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said:
"Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory."
The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!"
Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: "Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out." Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!
A vivid scene, and one with lots to think about! Isaiah has a direct experience of the grandeur of God, and the Spirit helps him convey a sense of that to us. The hem of God’s robe fills the temple, which makes it the equivalent of several city blocks in area (dwarfing even the most spectacular Coronation dress.) Heavenly six-winged creatures sing God’s praises. But at the same time, this is all grounded in a concrete place and time, the year good King Uzziah died. For Jews, God is transcendent, above all, but He also makes Himself known to us in the concrete realities of our history. Christians think the same way. For instance, in the creed we say that Jesus was ‘crucified under Pontius Pilate’, that is, at a particular point in real history, and in a real place. For Jews and Christians, in the Old Testament and the New, God works out his plan in the broken, but good, real world He has created.
There’s a liturgical side to this (of course, I think there’s a liturgical side to everything!) We know the words of the heavenly song, because we sing them as we prepare to gather around the altar at the Eucharist. Our hymnal has no less than sixteen musical settings for this hymn. However we choose to sing it, we are doing exactly what the citizens of heaven are doing in Isaiah’s vision: we are in God’s presence, singing about His glory. In the Eastern Church, this is the point in the liturgy when we are actually united with Heaven, all singing together. A powerful thought! Sing out!
Romans 8:12-17
So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh-- for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ-- if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
This little reading packs a radical punch: Paul insists on retelling the story of God and humanity in a new way. For Paul, the only criterion for someone’s being a child of God is whether they allow themselves to be led by the spirit of God. Family history, ethnic identity, genetics, have nothing to do with it. In fact, those are the things Paul means when he talks about living ‘according to the flesh’: trusting one’s status as a Jew, trusting signs of the old covenant, like circumcision, or the Law, are all matters of ‘the flesh’, the deeds of the body. The point is not that Jews are to be excluded. The point is anyone led by the spirit, Jew or gentile, slave or free, man or woman, is now included.
John 3:1-17
There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the
"Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of
"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.
"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."
A novice was once sent to a wise old priest for spiritual direction. The novice was very intelligent and enthusiastic, and had read all kinds of books about the life of prayer. While the old priest made tea, the novice told him all about the wonderful things he had discovered in his research. The old priest poured tea into the novice’s cup, but he didn’t stop when it was full. He just kept pouring and pouring until tea had spilled everywhere.
“What are you doing, Father? The cup is full, there’s no more room.”
“You are the same”, said the old priest. “How can you learn from me, if you are already full of all your own thoughts and opinions? Come back next week, and bring an empty cup.”
Nicodemus comes to Jesus with a full cup. The first words out of his mouth are “We know”. He assumes that Jesus is another teacher, like other Pharisees. He may have a style of his own, but Nicodemus thinks he knows pretty much what Jesus is about. Jesus spends the rest of the conversation trying to empty Nicodemus’ cup, trying to get him to let go of what he thinks he knows about God, and God’s plans. For a Pharisee, a person whose reputation was built on knowledge, this is a hard thing for Nicodemus to do, and he seems to go away puzzled, even when he hears that most powerful summary of the mission of Jesus, John 3:16.
It’s a hazard of the life of faith, walking around with a full cup. Trinity Sunday is challenging, because it reminds us, we never really completely understand God. We are being guided by the Holy Spirit into all truth, but complete understanding is always a little beyond our grasp. Maybe it’s best to say that a mystery, like the Trinity, isn’t really something we never understand, it’s something we never stop understanding, as long as we keep some room in our cup.