Trinity-Wisdom

Does it strike you this Trinity Sunday, as it strikes me, that our lessons from Scripture fall somewhat short of the liturgical occasion? Not that the readings from the Book of Proverbs (8:1-4, 22-31), Paul’s Letter to the Romans (5:1-5), and the Gospel of John (16:12-15) lack strong words and enticing images. Not at all. It’s just, well, they don’t seem quite Trinitarian enough – at least when put side-by-side with the language and conceptuality of the Collect we heard earlier: “…to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and…to worship the Unity”; or of the Creed we will sing later: “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty;…one Lord, Jesus Christ,…eternally begotten of the Father;…the Holy Spirit,…who proceeds from the Father and the Son.”

But upon deeper reflection, this is exactly what we should expect with regard to Trinitarian teaching; for we will search in vain for a Biblical doctrine of the Trinity. The Christian confession of God as Triune, which takes shape during the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th centuries, serves to express and safeguard in novel, even daring, form the threefold experience of God witnessed to by prophets and apostles in Scripture. We must content ourselves with partial and impressionistic renderings of Trinitarian faith in this morning’s readings: from John, the promised coming of the Spirit of truth, which will deepen our grasp of Jesus and his revelation of the Father; from Paul, peace with God made through Jesus Christ and the love of that same God poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit; from Proverbs, praise for the creative power and genius of God’s eternal wisdom.

I find our first reading particularly compelling. God’s wisdom personified in female form; intelligent, empowered female form. Our Hebrew ancestors in the faith called her hokhmah; Greek-speaking Christians Sophia. We might dub her “Lady Wisdom.” Lady Wisdom calls out to all the living, offering not idle speculation, but practical truth for living life to its fullest. Lady Wisdom works alongside God from before the beginning of things, establishing sky and sea and earth. Lady Wisdom, God’s constant delight, rejoices and delights in God and in the whole marvelous world they created together.

A piece of liturgical music paints a portrait of Lady Wisdom. This piece was originally written for weddings, then later used at ordinations, professions of religious vows, and the final preparation of candidates for baptism. We sang it last Tuesday, at Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, to bless and send this year’s graduating class of students.

The refrain goes:

“May you cling to Wisdom, for she will protect you,
and if you cherish her, she will keep you safe.”

In the three verses, Lady Wisdom addresses us:

“Take heed my children and listen to my words,
and all your years shall be rich and filled with joy.
For I have taught you in ways of wisdom, and paths of honesty.

More than all else, set a guard upon your heart,
since here is found the well-spring of your soul!
Upon your journey, let wisdom grace you with steadfast vision.

So may you treasure the things I have to say.
These words of truth shall lead you both to life!
Pray for perception, hold fast to wisdom, do not forget her!

May you cling to Wisdom, for she will protect you,
and if you cherish her, she will keep you safe.”

Lady Wisdom calls out from specific and significant locations in the cultural geography of the Hebrew people on their life journey: from the heights, at the crossroads, and beside the town gates. The high places: where the people of Israel met God; the crossroads: where they met and did business with other peoples; the town gates: where they did justice and repaired broken relationships. At the site of religious, commercial, and legal institutions, at the very heart of human life, Lady Wisdom raises her voice to instruct.

+++

The portion of Proverbs we heard read this morning, however, does not convey much of the content of Lady Wisdom’s instruction. She speaks mostly about her own identity and collaborative relationship with God. Early Christian theologians found this personification helpful when they formulated a doctrine of the Trinity. So, turn things around with me and consider our inherited Christian confession of one God in three persons as Wisdom, practical wisdom, wisdom for living life to its fullest. But Trinity-Wisdom is radical wisdom, wisdom that runs counter to the prevailing values of our culture today, as it did to the values of the Roman Empire back in the 4th century.

Behind and beneath alien Greek and Latin words, Trinity-Wisdom proclaims one breathtakingly simple truth: to be is to be related, to be is to be in relationship to others. The most fundamental unit of reality, God’s reality, our reality, all reality, is the relationship, not the isolated, self-sufficient individual. One God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – already a communion of persons, a community of interdependence and love. One God, Mothering Mystery, Eternal Wisdom, Brooding Breath of Life – an everlasting table fellowship, a dance supreme, characterized by mutuality, respect for difference, the equal dignity of all, delight in the other’s distinctive gifts. Trinity-Wisdom.

And there is more. God in three persons, blessed Trinity, does not live for Godself, by Godself, within Godself alone. The God dance opens out to include others, all God’s creatures, human and non-human, in a wider, more complex, more interesting dance. An extra chair always sits empty at the God table inviting us, inviting all, to join the feast. God delight turns outward in rejoicing over all God’s table guests and dance partners. Made in the triune image of God, we come to ourselves through others, we know ourselves in communion with others, we find ourselves perfected by loving others.

According to this Trinity-Wisdom, the subordination of one table guest to another is unnatural; as is the exclusion of one dance partner from others. Sameness is imperfect; self-sufficiency represents a retreat from reality itself. The error, the sin, Trinity-Wisdom exposes and forgives is an impersonal life – a life that hides the fact that we are persons from and for God, from and for others.

Now imagine Trinity-Wisdom crying out to us from the heights, the crossroads, and the town gates of our own culture. Do our religious institutions, our marketplaces, and our legal systems mirror God’s delight in difference, God’s dance of mutual interdependence, the equal dignity shown at God’s table? Pick any of this week’s news headlines. The plight of undocumented workers and birds coated with crude oil, absent fathers and abusive priests, nuclear weapons programs and drug cartels all suggest we cling instead to fear and doubt, isolation and subordination, rather than Trinity-Wisdom. No wonder we feel so unsafe, so threatened by death.

+++

I want to close with a story from writer Anne Lamott that illustrates Trinity-Wisdom, both how deeply engrained the foolishness of self-sufficient individualism is and how life-giving God’s countercultural dance of communion can be. I hope it encourages you as much as it does me.

Here’s Lamott story. She received an invitation to share a stage with Grace Paley, woman’s rights activist and writer whose “radical wisdom” Lamott had worshipped since she was a teenager (p. 140). Lamott so desperately wanted to be brilliant and witty and profound alongside her idol. She wanted to join Grace Paley in a beautiful literary-political dance.

The original plan was for the two writers to give prepared talks from scripts behind podiums on two successive evenings in two different cities. Lamott convinced the producers, instead, to let them be together on stage in a more casual mode, just hanging out, chatting unscripted. Lamott’s alternative failed miserably. Here’s how she describes that first evening.

“Grace and I read from our own works for a while, and then we sat down to have a nice intimate conversation with two thousand people watching. And it was a weird, glumfy dance—a private dance done publicly. We totally bombed. No wait, this is not actually the truth: I bombed. Grace was fine. Everyone agreed later that Grace was fine. Apparently I went on too long every time I opened my mouth. Also, I dominated the conversation, and,…was ‘shrill and narcissistic.’ But I couldn’t hear the music, I couldn’t remember how to play my own song. I felt frantic and frozen at the same time, so instead of something bold and improvisational in fabulous dance attire, the audience saw me do the St. Vitus’ two-step in tap-shoes and a straightjacket” (p. 142).

Alone in her hotel room later that night, after tears of embarrassment and shame, wisdom, wisdom from another, visited Lamott: “Out of nowhere I remembered something one of my priest friends had said once, that grace is having a commitment to – or at least an acceptance of – being ineffective and foolish. That our bottled charm is the main roadblock to drinking that clear cool glass of love” (pp. 142-143). The more we hold our breath and strain hard to look good, I hear Lamott saying, the more we pull back into ourselves out of fear and doubt, and the more we squander our best gifts – those meant to delight God and others.

Reflecting on her failure, a failure of self-sufficiency, Lamott continues: “I don’t know why life isn’t constructed to be seamless and safe, why we make such glaring mistake, things fall so short of our expectations, and our hearts get broken and our kids do scary things and our parents get old and don’t always remember to put pants on before they go out for a stroll. I don’t know why it’s not more like it is in the movies, why things don’t come out neatly and lessons can’t be learned when you’re in the mood for learning them, why love and grace often come in such motley packaging. But I was reminded of the lines of D.H. Lawrence that are taped to the wall of my office: ‘What is the knocking? What is the knocking at the door in the night? It is somebody wants to do us harm. No, no, it is the three strange angels. Admit them, admit them’” (pp. 143-144). Three strange angels. Another anticipation of Trinity-Wisdom in the Hebrew Bible. The three angels who stopped by Abraham and Sarah’s tent unannounced one day. And although he is the host and the angels the guests, it is Abraham who is invited into the spaciousness of God’s table, God’s dance.

Reverting back to the original plan on the second evening in the second city, Lamott rediscovered herself in and through community with others. “I’d really wanted to be Cyd Charisse on stage,” Lamott writes about that second evening, “but as usual, if I’d gotten what I wanted, I would have shortchanged myself. What I wanted was acclaim, and what I got was Grace, lovely and plain in her faded dress and dark socks, smiling at me all night” (p. 144).

Back to Sermons