Thursday, May 31, 2018

Sermon - Trinity Sunday - John 3:1-17

The Mystery of the Trinity

Mystery movies, mystery books, novels, short stories.  They're a popular genre of entertainment.  Whether you like Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew or Agatha Christie or a police drama like Law and Order.  There's something about the plot of a mystery story that appeals to many people.  You try to figure out, as it all unfolds, whodunnit.  But you don't know for sure, until the payoff at the end, and the mystery is solved or revealed and all the questions fall into place.  Of course, there's often a twist and sometimes questions left unanswered, or even a cliffhanger to get you interested for the next story or episode.  But so it goes.

The Christian faith claims a number of mysteries of its own.  The English word “mystery” is rooted in the Greek word “mysterion”, which appears about 27 times in the New Testament.  But it doesn't mean the same thing as a modern mystery novel.  In scripture, a mystery is truth that can't be understood by human reason, but instead must be apprehended by faith.

For instance, when Paul talks about the resurrection of the dead on the last day, he begins, “Behold, I tell you a mystery – we will not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet”.  He speaks of marriage as a mystery, in Ephesians 5, in that it is a earthly picture of the blessed union between Christ and his bride, the church.

And then there are those doctrines that the church draws from scripture that have the same quality of mystery.  The incarnation:  How can God become man?  The nature of the sacrament of the altar:  how can Christ be truly present in the bread and wine?  And perhaps one of the greatest scriptural mysteries of all – the doctrine of the Trinity.  God is three.  God is one.  It defies reason.  It is a mystery.  It is hidden from the eyes of reason and logic – but revealed to the eyes of faith.

Nicodemus came to Jesus by night – presumably to hide himself in the cloak of darkness and not be seen by his peers.  Perhaps if he didn't like what Jesus had to say, he could slip away just as quietly.  But Nicodemus was also under a fog of heart and mind.  God seemed to be with Jesus, but he wasn't too sure.  Like so many, even as a teacher of Israel, he couldn't penetrate the mystery of Jesus.

Your sinful nature is much the same as his.  Nicodemus is an everyman in a sense, bringing his questions, doubts, opinions and ideas to Jesus.  We come in the fog of sin and unbelief.  We labor under the darkness of doubts.

If God is good, why does he allow evil?  If God loves me, why is he letting me suffer?  How can I know for certain that all this is true?  What if we really did evolve from monkeys, and what if death is really the end, and what if Jesus didn't rise from the dead, and so on, and so on. 

And what does it matter that God is three, or one, or 53 or 2 trillion?  How can Jesus be begotten of the Father but not created?  And how can the Spirit be sent, but not begotten and what difference does that make? 

What do you mean, be born again, Jesus?  How can a man be born when he's already old? You mean I should enter the womb again?  But the mystery is this – you must be born of water and the spirit to see the kingdom.  Baptism is also not to be understood, but received by faith. 

Baptism isn't your work or doing, any more than you engineered your own birth.  It happened to you.  It defined you, and still does.  It's not your testimony or promise to God, but rather his testimony about and promise to you – to make you his child, born of the Spirit, born under grace and no longer the law.  Buried with Christ, and raised with Christ so never to die again.  All of this in simple water and word – it takes faith to receive and apprehend.  It's a mystery to be received, not explained.

But don't just gape and marvel at this mystery, Nicodemus.  For the mysteries continue – take the Spirit.  He moves when and where he wills.  You can't see him, you can't contain or comprehend him.  But like the wind – you can see his effects.  You know he's moving, affecting things, in his time, in his way.  This takes faith to see.  This is a mystery.  It is a heavenly thing.

Anywhere the Word of God is proclaimed, the Spirit is at work – convicting the world of sin and righteousness and judgment.  Anywhere the seed of the Gospel goes forth, the Spirit brings the effects and purposes he desires.  Often hidden to us, even for years, or never to be seen – faith trusts the word and the Spirit who works through it. 

The Father is also mysterious – in that no one has ascended to see him.  No one can speak first hand about what the Father is like, except for the Son, who came from heaven.  And that the Father would love the world, such that he would send his only Son – is a mystery.  Why would a holy and just God act in love toward wicked and rebellious people?  Why would he send this Son to save the world, rather than to condemn it?  It's surely not what the world deserves.

But the Son is sent.  And the Son is born.  And the Son is lifted up – in another great mystery.  Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, and all who looked to it lived – so is Jesus lifted up on the cross, lifted up before the world, so that all who look to him in faith live.  All who receive the mystery need not fear the venom of the great serpent.  All who trust in his promise have eternal life. 

And so the church confesses the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, and notice how we say it – we don't “understand” the Trinity.  We don't “explain” it.  We can't take it apart and put it back together.  Rather, like all the mysteries of God, we receive it – and we confess it.

This is why we have these creeds – the Apostles, Nicene, and Athanasian.  To summarize what scripture teaches about God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  And to set forth and confess – that is, to echo and re-tell – what God has said about himself.  He is Father, he is Son, he is Holy Spirit.  But each person distinct, and yet one God united.

In fact we go wrong if we try to explain beyond what scripture teaches.  We go astray if we overanalyze the mystery or subject God to our rules of logic.  It is an exercise in humility, for us to recognize he is so far above and beyond our limited and corrupted natures.  It is an exercise in faith to say, “I don't understand it, but if God said it, I believe it”.

So it is with his Triune nature, so it is also with his works and his promises.  His work of creation – we can seek to understand to an extent, but we can easily go wrong if we think we know better than he does how it happened.  Rather, we receive the mystery that the world was made in six days and he rested on the 7th. 
His work of redemption – how can we explain or comprehend the love that Christ has for us, that he would endure the cross, scorning its shame, for the joy set before him – the joy of accomplishing our salvation!  This gift is simply to be received. 

And likewise the gifts of his Spirit, many and varied as they are – sanctifying us even though reason and observation say we're not so holy.  But faith trusts the word, that faith a gift of the spirit.  And faith says, though I'm a sinner, God says I'm a saint.  I don't get it.  But I believe it.  I confess the mystery.

No, when it comes to mysteries, Agatha Christie has nothing on the Triune God.  He's not a riddle to be solved or a puzzle to be mastered – but his nature is a mystery to be confessed.  And his work his a whodunnit of a different sort – for he has accomplished salvation for us, in Jesus Christ.  And you are baptized into his name – Father, Son, and Spirit.  God grant us the continued grace to receive it, and believe it.  Amen.


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