"The Dance of Love," a sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Trinity Sunday

"Hospitality of Abraham" ("Holy Trinity"). Hand-painted icon by Andrei Rublev.

"The Dance of Love"

Isaiah 6:1-8; John 3:1-17

Over the years, I’ve had a number of front porch theological conversations with Muslim neighbors, in which they’ve asked about the Trinity.  I’ve been asked, “So, about the Trinity: One God or three? These kinds of questions have led to some interesting theological conversations about the nature of God over the years

            In the Christian calendar, this is Trinity Sunday—the only Sunday in the church year dedicated to a doctrine of the church.  

            For centuries Christians have sung, confessed our faith, prayed, baptized, received new members into our community in the name of a Trinitarian God who is traditionally Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  But for many Christians in our time (and for some in earlier times) the doctrine of the Trinity has been a problem.

            How many of us have heard a conversation in a church school class or study group that goes something like this: “Do we have to believe in the Trinity-- that God is three-in-one and one-in three--to be a Christian?” “What does it mean? How can you put three persons together and get one, or divide one into three and still have one?”

            If you think about it, you can understand why our Muslim and Jewish friends have a problem with the Trinity and wonder if we really do worship one God.

            The defenders of the faith--the traditional faith--might blunder through a fuzzy explanation and then conclude: “There’s a reason we call it a mystery that no one can fully understand.” Maybe they say, “We just have to accept it by faith.”

            I agree that the Trinity is a mystery no one can fully understand.  The doctrine of the Trinity reminds us that there is always more to God than we can conceive… always more of God than we can explain… always more than we can sing or preach or prove.   

            So—what do we do with the Trinity? 

            I think theology is important.  I think bad theology can hurt people…and hurts the church.  The language we use when we speak and sing of God is important.

            Apparently, some ordinary Christians in ancient times knew this.  Theologian Elizabeth Johnson observes how fascinated people of the late fourth century were with speaking rightly about God.

            She quotes a famous remark by Gregory of Nyssa that describes the situation: “Even the baker,” he said, “does not cease from discussing this.  If you ask the price of bread, he will tell you that the Father is greater and the Son is subject to him.”[1]

            It’s difficult for many people today to grasp how bitterly this conflict divided the Christian world for several centuries.  The Nicene Creed was hammered out to defend the faith tradition against the Arian claim that Christ was not eternal, but created. 

            The burning big QUESTION in the ancient church was “Who is Jesus Christ, in relation to God the Father and Creator?”

            The Nicene Creed was the ancient church’s answer to the questions of its time, using the best philosophical constructs and language available to it at that time. 

            As (the late) theology professor Shirley Guthrie wrote, the doctrine of the Trinity is “the church’s admittedly inadequate way of trying to understand the biblical and Christian understanding of who God is, what God is like, how and where God is at work in the world, what God thinks about us human beings, does for us, requires of us, promises us.”[2]

            We need to be clear with ourselves and in talking with others that we don’t “believe in” the Trinity. We believe in and trust in God, and the Trinity is a way Christians think about and speak of God.

            During times of controversy, the church has found it necessary to re-interpret the gospel for new times, in response to new situations and questions.  If you look through our Book of Confessions,[3] you’ll see that the “Scots Confession,” “the Heidelberg Catechism,” the “2^nd Helvetic Confession,” and the “Westminster Confession” were worked out during the Reformation period, in response to concerns particular to that time.

            In 1934, the Confessional Synod of the German Evangelical Church met in Barmen, Germany.  They “sought a common message for the need and temptation of the Church” in their day. The threat was the way the Christian church was cooperating with the Nazi regime.  The resulting confession of faith was what we know as the “Declaration of Barmen.”

            The 1960’s were turbulent times, and the “Confession of 1967” was adopted by the Presbyterian Church “to call the church to that unity in confession and mission which is required of disciples…”[4] The theme of the Confession of 1967 was the church’s ministry of reconciliation, which has been a strong theme in the mission of this congregation for several decades.

            The Presbyterian Church had split at the time of the Civil War, over the issue of slavery, and it took over a hundred years for the northern and southern Presbyterian churches to be reunited.  At the time of the reunion, the General Assembly voted to re-state the faith as a way of affirming what we believe together.  The result was “A Brief Statement of Faith of 1991,”[5]  which we often say together in worship.  The “Brief Statement of Faith” is a Trinitarian statement, which begins by stating that we trust in the one triune God, whom alone we worship and serve.

            The 2016 General Assembly made history by voting to add the “Belhar Confession” to our Book of Confessions.[6]  Belhar is a moving call for reconciliation and a condemnation of racial injustice written in South Africa during the struggle against Apartheid, to be a resource to the church during a time when racial tension, injustice and violence in the United States make headlines nearly every day.

            We are part of a living, growing tradition, and we continue to address new situations and questions by re-stating our faith.  One of the great themes of our Reformed Tradition affirms the church reformed, always being reformed, according the Word of God, as led by the Holy Spirit. 

            I believe that the controversies of our time over sexuality issues are finally being worked out after decades of conflict.  I hope this frees us to work through other important questions for living faithfully in our time. For instance, how do we confess and live our faith in Jesus Christ in a pluralistic world?  How do we speak of God in conversations with our neighbors who are Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, atheist, or “spiritual but not religious” or the “none’s” or “done's”?  If we trust in a God who creates every person in the image of God, a God who calls us to love our neighbor and to live together in Beloved Community, what does our faith require of us in our relationships with those who are different and those who are marginalized? 

            When we struggle over theology, important things often get worked out.  We often learn something—sometimes in spite of ourselves.  Even though we might want to dig in and defend what we have always believed to be true, we have the Holy Spirit nudging us, reminding us of what Jesus did and what he taught.  We learn and grow, as the Holy Spirit leads us further into the truth—just as Jesus promised

            Jesus told his disciples that he still had many things to say to them, but that they weren’t ready to hear them yet.  He promised that the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, would guide his followers into all the truth.[7]

            But from the earliest centuries of the church, discerning theologians have stressed that all our language about God, including the Trinitarian symbols, are inadequate and relative. The Bible uses many images or metaphors for God, and other theologians have offered a number of possibilities for speaking of God.[8]

            I believe God continues to speak a new word to us in new times--things we weren’t ready to hear before.  We still have many things to learn, so we need to be learners--theologians. We need to listen for what God’s teaching Spirit has to say to us.

            In my study this week, I was reminded that the Western Church’s model of the Trinity has typically looked like a triangle, while the typical model in Eastern Orthodoxy is a circle.

            John of Damascus, a Greek theologian who lived in the seventh century, developed the understanding of the Trinity with a concept called perichoresis.  I don’t bring a lot of Greek words into sermons, but this one gives us such a beautiful picture of God. “Peri”-- as in perimeter--means “around.”  “Choresis literally means “dancing” -- as in choreography.

            This isn’t an approach to the Trinity that most of us in the Western part of the church are as familiar with, but some contemporary theologians, like Jürgen Moltmann and Mirosalav Volf, have written about it.

            Father Richard Rohr has written a very accessible book: “The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation,” that invites us to take a closer look at the mystery of the Trinity.  He says we need a larger God than the understanding that seems to dominate our culture.  God is not what most people think.  God is not an angry, distant moral scorekeeper or a supernatural Santa Claus handing out cosmic lottery tickets to those who attend the right church or say the right prayer.  God isn’t a stern old man with a white-beard, ready and eager to assign condemnation and punishment.[9]

            I find the metaphor of a dancing God beautiful and life-giving, and I think it is more faithful to the story of God’s self-giving love we hear in the scriptures. Imagine it: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit-- or Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer-- the three persons of the Trinity are like three dancers holding hands, dancing around together in harmonious, joyful freedom.

            In today’s Gospel lesson, we heard, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” God is not vengeful, not demanding of judgment or appeasement, not angry--but loving. The cross is a sign of just how far God will go to show us that God already loves us.  

            How do we proclaim the good news of God’s love in our time? To those who have been baptized in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, we need to proclaim the new, open, love-filled space of our Triune God, the space where we are to love God with all we’ve got and to love our neighbors--all our neighbors-- like ourselves.  

            Our God is a relational God, and the Trinity is all about relationship. I think the Trinity matters, because--without the Trinity, some people can make claims that justify the hatred of entire groups of people and call them animals. Without the Trinity, some churches will claim to be church but carry on with self-centered, individualistic, fear full messages, rather than a gospel of love and community.

            On this Trinity Sunday, what really matters is being led further into God’s truth and God’s way of love.

            Maybe, as Father Richard Rohr suggests, we need to push back the furniture a bit and make room to dance with the divine. Maybe that’s a better way to teach us all about God’s self-giving love and how we can be part of the dance-- God’s dance of love and life.

            The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you!

            Amen.

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

May 27, 2018

           

           

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[1] Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse. 

[2] Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, Revised Edition (Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), p. 71.

[3] https://www.pcusa.org/site_media/media/uploads/oga/pdf/boc2014.pdf

[4] The Confession of 1967, article 9.05 in Book of Confessions of the Presbyterian Church (USA).

[5] https://www.presbyterianmission.org/what-we-believe/brief-statement-of-faith/

[6] https://www.pcusa.org/site_media/media/uploads/theologyandworship/pdfs/belhar.pdf

[7]John 16:12

[8] See William C. Placher, Narratives of a Vulnerable God: Christ, Theology, and Scripture (Westminster John Knox Press, 1994).

[9] Richard Rohr, The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation.  (Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge / Whitaker House), 2016.

"Not the End of the Story." A Sermon on Mark 16:1-8 on Easter Sunday.

"Not the End of the Story"

Mark 16:1-8

         The Sabbath day has passed and it is the dawn of a new day.  Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome are bringing spices to anoint the body of Jesus.  For the disciples, it has been a long and painful Sabbath.  The women had seen Jesus’ body placed hurriedly in the tomb late Friday afternoon.   Now the three women are headed back to the tomb, wondering among themselves, who would roll back the large stone that covered the door.

            Their relief at finding the stone rolled back turned to fear when they get there. Jesus’ body was gone.  Instead, there’s a young man, dressed in white.

"Don’t be alarmed;" he says, "you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified.   He has been raised.  He is not here.      Now, go and tell the disciples and Peter that Jesus is going before you to Galilee.  You will see him there, just as he told you."

            The women flee from the tomb, filled with terror and amazement.  They say nothing to anyone-- for they are afraid.   Mark’s gospel ends here.

            This unfinished story bothered people in the early church enough that they wrote two different endings to tack on.  It's bothered a lot of scholars over the years-- so much that some of them developed theories about how the last page of Mark's gospel was lost…  or how it wore out and fell off.

            However, the consensus of biblical scholars today is that Mark did indeed end his gospel with verse 8.   In Mark’s gospel, there are no joyfully amazed women rushing back with news of the empty tomb…no awestruck exclamations to the disciples that “he is risen!”   There are no reassuring appearances by the risen Christ himself.   We have to read the other gospel accounts that were written later to find these things.

            The three women are filled with grief, and overwhelmed with amazement and terror.  On this Easter Sunday in the year 2018, can you relate to their response? What do you feel when you hear the news of the resurrection? Are you confident and joyful? Are you ready to go and tell?

            Maybe. Maybe not. I suspect that there are a lot of people in the pews of churches-- and outside the church this Easter Sunday who feel like they’re living in a Good Friday kind of world. 

            If you feel like you've been living in a Good Friday world, maybe you can relate to the women who went to the tomb that first Easter morning.  They'd hoped that Jesus was going to be the Messiah who would liberate them from the Roman oppressors.  But things haven't turned out the way they'd hoped.

            The women didn’t expect to Jesus to be resurrected, even though Jesus had told his disciples three times that he would suffer and die and then be raised again. But they hadn’t understood.

             The women had seen Jesus executed on the cross with their own eyes, and they thought death had won the day.  They’d come to anoint his body for burial.

            As far as they knew, nothing had changed. They were still living under the oppression of the Roman empire. The empire had executed Jesus because they saw him as a threat to the stability of the Palestinian region of the Roman empire, because he dared to disturb the peace of the “Pax Romana” by causing the ruckus at the Temple, calling out the hypocrisy of the temple leaders, seeking to cleanse it and reclaim it from those who were colluding with Rome.

            The empire executed Jesus because he had been proclaiming a rival empire-- the Kingdom of God.[1]

            As Roger Wolsey points out, those who worshiped Caesar as god executed Jesus because his followers were describing him with the titles they reserved for Caesar: “Lord,” “Son of God,” “Lord of lords,” Prince of Peace,” and “King of kings.” 

            Jesus lived a life of radical, self-giving, unconditional love, teaching subversive and counter-cultural things that challenged the empire’s authority.[2]  He preached the kingdom of God. The confession of the earliest Christians was “Jesus is Lord,” which means Caesar is not.  

            So much had happened that first Holy Week, and the women were overwhelmed and terrified.  The young man at the tomb says, “Don’t be alarmed. Don’t be afraid.”  That’s easier said than done. “You came looking for a crucified Jesus, but he isn’t here.  He has been raised. Go and tell his disciples and Peter-- even Peter, the one who denied Jesus three times. Tell them that you all need to go back to Galilee, and you will see him there, just as he said.”

            I think maybe Mark knew that no story about death and resurrection could have a neat and tidy ending. One of the themes throughout Mark’s gospel is how the disciples just don’t get the meaning of a lot of his teachings. We keep hearing Jesus ask, “Don’t you understand?”

            Three times the disciples had heard Jesus predict that he is going to have to suffer and die and then be raised again-- but they end up dazed, confused, and arguing about who’s the greatest.   Peter confesses that Jesus is the Messiah-- but completely misunderstands what that means, and actually rebukes Jesus when he explains.  

            Judas betrays Jesus.  Peter denies him 3 times.  All of the disciples desert him at the time of the crucifixion, except some of the women who followed him.     

            Finally, even these women, who up to this point had proved to be faithful disciples, are too afraid to go and share the good news. And so, Mark ends here, with failure, with an invitation to pick up where the gospel leaves off.[1]

            Maybe this is Mark’s way of telling us that Jesus meets us at the point when we are broken, when we have failed, when we’re afraid, and turns what seems like an ending-- into a new beginning.  

            The story isn’t over.  With the first disciples, we need to leave the empty tomb and go back to Galilee.   Like the first disciples, we can’t understand the story the first time.  We need to go to the cross and to the empty tomb… and then read the story again and find ourselves in the story.   We need to go back to “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”[2]   This time, we need to hear the gospel with post-resurrection eyes. 

            When we go back to Galilee, we see Jesus healing and teaching and casting out demons, but always being misunderstood, even by those closest to him.  Mark is telling us that the saving action of God in the world is always hidden and ambiguous. 

            We go back to Galilee, and the second time around every story in the Gospel of Mark is a post-resurrection appearance.  What we see is a God who surprises us at every turn in the road, a God whose power is expressed finally in weakness.[3]

             Mark wrote an open ending to his gospel in order to invite the disciples and everyone who reads it to jump in and take up our part in continuing it.   You see, the story of what God is doing in and through Jesus isn’t over at the empty tomb.   It’s only just getting started.  

            Mark’s Gospel is all about setting us up to live resurrection lives and to continue the story of God’s redeeming work in the world. 

            Mark intentionally left the story unfinished-- because it isn't just a story about something that happened long ago.  It's the story of the church, and the story isn't finished.   That first Easter, the whole urgent, world-changing story was hanging on the testimony of witnesses who run away in fear and silence.   

            Yet, they must have gone out and told. They must have gone to Galilee and seen the risen Christ. They must have proclaimed the good news to the others-- or we wouldn’t be here today. 

           

            We live in a world can be a frightening place.  Sometimes we can feel overwhelmed by all the pain and suffering... hatred and evil we see.

            The women came to the tomb expecting to see a place of death and defeat.    They thought the powers of this world had had the last word.

            But the God we worship and serve hears the suffering of marginalized and oppressed people and cares… and “acts with justice and mercy to redeem creation.”  The Living God will have the last word, because love is stronger than evil.  That’s part of the good news of Easter.

            Jesus came to live among us, full of grace and truth[3]… and “proclaimed the reign of God… preaching good news to the poor and release to the captives… teaching by word and deed…and blessing the children…healing the sick and binding up the brokenhearted…eating with outcasts… forgiving sinners… and calling all to repent and believe the gospel.”[4]   

            When Jesus challenged the religious authorities and the empire with his vision of love and justice and transformation, the empire executed him.

            Just as surely as that first Good Friday was the domination system’s “no” to Jesus, Easter is God’s “yes” to Jesus and his vision… and God’s “no” to systems of domination and oppression. 

            Our Easter faith assures us that in Christ's death on the cross and his resurrection, God has already overcome the power of death and evil.  The old life is gone.  A new life has begun[5]—a life of gratitude and joy...  a life in which the Holy Spirit sets us free to accept ourselves and to love God and neighbor, and binds us together with all believers in the one body of Christ, the church. 

God's redemptive purpose for the world will prevail through those who answer Christ's call to follow him and carry on his purpose and work.

            The good news is that we are not alone.  In a broken and fearful world, the Spirit gives us courage to pray without ceasing, to witness among all peoples to Christ as Lord and Savior, to unmask idolatries in church and culture, to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom and peace.[6]

            That’s how the rest of the story continues.

            Giacomo Puccini, who wrote such great operas as Madame Butterfly and La Boheme, was stricken with cancer in 1922.  He decided to write one more opera entitled Turandot. 

            One of his students said, "But suppose you die before you finish it?"

            "Oh, my disciples will finish it,"  Puccini replied confidently.  

            Puccini died in 1924, and his disciples did finish the opera. Puccini's best friend, Franco Alfano, worked from sketches left by the composer to complete the opera, which many consider it to be his best work.

            The premier took place in Milan, Italy, at La Scala Opera House.  Arturo Toscanini, one of Puccini's best students, was the conductor.  The performance began and continued to the point at which Puccini's work had abruptly ended.  Toscanini paused and said to the audience, "Thus far, the master wrote...   and then the master died." Then he picked up the baton and shouted to the audience, "But his disciples finished his music!"[7]

            As disciples of Christ, we are called, as individuals and as Christ's church, to be about the task of finishing the music whose melody and direction we can discern in the acts of God in history   and in the life and teachings of Jesus.

            God calls us to live beyond our fears and doubts.  In the resurrection, God showed us his amazing, life-giving power.  We know that the story of our life with God has a joyful ending.

            Go.  Tell.  As Christians, we are called to take risks...  to make ourselves vulnerable in love...  to share with strangers...  and to dare to challenge unjust power.  

God, in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, is making all things new, and we are called to be a part of this new life.   So, go.  Tell.

Christ is risen!  Alleluia!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

April 1, 2018

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[1] Roger Wolsey, “Why They Killed Jesus”, in Patheos (2015) at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogerwolsey/2015/06/why-they-killed-jesus-2/

[2] Wolsey, “Why They Killed Jesus.”

[3] John 1

[4] “Brief Statement of Faith,” Presbyterian Church (USA), 1990.

[5] “The old life is gone; a new life has begun” is part of an assurance of forgiveness that we hear often during the corporate act of confession in Presbyterian worship.

[6] “Brief Statement of Faith.”

[7] I’ve read several versions of the story of how the opera Turandot was finished after Puccini’s death, which agree on most points. One source says the premier performance stopped at the point where Puccini died, and that it was followed the next day with a performance of the completed work. In any case, the disciples carried on and completed the work.

"Beloved." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian on Trinity Sunday, May 22, 2016.

"Beloved"

John 16:12-1512-15

A Baptism on Trinity Sunday

We sang “Holy, Holy, Holy” this morning,  because  today is Trinity Sunday—the only Sunday in the Christian year devoted to a doctrine of the church.  The Trinity is one of two doctrines we share with the church catholic—with a small “c”—the church universal, along with the Incarnation. 

            So…  how do we speak of the Trinity?  What does it mean?

            The Trinity is not in the Bible—though the images and ideas on which it was based is there to develop what we sang about as  “God in three persons, blessed Trinity.”

            Jesus didn’t talk about the Trinity.  Neither did Paul.  It wasn't until the fourth century-- “ 300 years after Jesus”--  that Christian leaders formalized the idea of the Trinity at the Council of Nicaea in 325, in what we know as the Nicene Creed.  

            The Apostles' Creed, in its original form, is even older, and has been associated closely with the Sacrament of Baptism in many parts of the Christian faith—which is why we’ll say it today-- in continuity with the historic church and in community with the church universal.

            I like what David Lose says about the Trinity.  He says he thinks the church has gotten a little off track with our thinking about the Trinity.  He thinks “the Trinity was the early church’s way of trying to grapple with a monotheistic belief in one God,  in light of their actual, lived experience of God’s activity…in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and after an encounter with the power of the Holy Spirit.  And the Trinity provided an answer…of sorts.  An answer often couched in the language of fourth-century metaphysics….But somewhere along the way the Trinity because less about describing an experience of the living God and more about accepting metaphysical doctrines and definitions of God.”^[1]   I think that’s where we got off track.

            It’s a new day, and it’s time for us to be the church for a new time.  I think Karoline Lewis is right when she suggests that nobody cares about doctrine if it’s left behind in the 4th or any other century.  Nobody cares about doctrine when it is preached from the pulpit as if it is law….”^[2] 

            In the gospel lesson we heard today, we heard Jesus telling his first disciples,  "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.  When the Spirit of truth comes, he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.  For all that the Father has is mine." 

            The Nicene Creed was the ancient church’s answer to the questions of its time, using the best philosophical constructs and language available to it at that time.  Who is Jesus Christ?  How do we speak of God? 

            The Creed and the doctrine of the Trinity were worked out at a time when the church was being transformed from a movement—a network of house churches in which people gathered for prayer and table fellowship—into something much more institutional and connected with the power of the empire.

            During times of controversy, the church has found it necessary to re-interpret the gospel for new times, in response to new situations and questions.   We Presbyterians have a whole Book of Confessions!  

            The “Brief Statement of Faith” of 1991 is the most recent confession in our Presbyterian Book of Confessions and one we use often in our worship at Littlefield.   It’s a Trinitarian statement, which begins by stating that we trust in the one triune God, whom alone we worship and serve. 

            The Presbyterian Church is in the process of adding the Confession of Belhar—from South Africa— to our Book of Confessions, out of the church’s desire to affirm our commitment to unity, reconciliation, and justice.  General Assembly approved in 2014 in Detroit, and the majority of presbyteries have affirmed it.  The final step is for it to go back to the 2016 General Assembly when it meets this June in Portland.  If the General Assembly approves it, there will be a new edition of our Book of Confessions that includes the Belhar Confession.

            I don’t believe that the “Belhar” is the last confession of faith the Presbyterian Church will ever adopt, because I trust that the Spirit will lead us into new truths that we haven’t even imagined yet. 

            I don’t claim to fully understand the mystery of the Trinity, and I don’t trust those who say they do.   Basically, the Trinity is our best but inadequate attempt to describe the mysterious nature of God in the language of metaphor. 

            The traditional formula of the Trinity is:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and there are times when we use the traditional language as an expression of our unity with the universal church.    For example:  We always baptize “in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” because we are commanded to do so by Jesus in the Great Commission, and also because it’s an expression of our unity with the universal church. 

            But in our own time, some have been exploring a variety of alternative, more inclusive ways of describing the Trinity, like “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer.”

            All of the metaphors are inadequate to define or explain the mystery of God.   The doctrine of the Trinity reminds us that there is always more to God than we can comprehend… always more of God than we can explain… always more than we can sing or preach or prove.   

            Whenever we find ourselves digging in to defend what we’ve always thought about who’s in and who’s outside of the circle of God’s love, whenever we think we have God all figured out,  we need to remember in humility and openness what Jesus said:  "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.  When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into the truth.

             I think the language of the Trinity points us to relationship and mutual devotion.  A twelfth-century scholar, Richard of St. Vincent, reflected on this    and spoke of God in terms of shared love, and a community in which that love is expansive and generous.  

            The good news is that God is love.   God loves the world and chooses to create and redeem you and me and each and every person.   God chose to come in the person of Jesus, to live among us, full of grace and truth, to embody God’s love for us and teach us what it means to be beloved children of God.

            In the Gospel accounts of the baptism of Jesus, we hear the words spoken from heaven to Jesus:  "You are my beloved.   With you I am well pleased."    In our baptism,  these words are meant for us as well: "You are my beloved.  With you I am well pleased.”

Beloved.  Child of God. 

What difference does it make in our lives when we come to believe we are beloved children of God?  What difference does it make in how we treat each person we meet, when we believe that they are also God’s children?  

In a culture of individualism and competition, it’s a counter-cultural idea to stake our lives on the amazing, gracious love of God, freely given to us—unconditionally.

The early church marveled at this gift when they wrote in First John:  ^“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God--  and that is what we are!”[3]

We believe that.  If you hang out with us at Littlefield, you’ll be issued a name tag that says you are a “Child of God.” 

As followers of Jesus, we believe we are called to love God and our neighbors, to work for peace and reconciliation and justice for all, to embody the love of Jesus Christ in all our relationships. As we grow in faith together, we trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us, to lead us further into the truth, and to empower us to live into God’s Kingdom.   Through the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit, we teach and encourage each other to live in the way of God’s love, the way of God’s wisdom.

One of the great joys of the Christian life is when parents present their children for baptism.  This is their public declaration that they want their child to be a part of the church and to have a ministry in it.

            Baptism is central to our identity as Christians.    As we live into our baptism, we learn who we are and whose we are.  We are nurtured to see ourselves as beloved children of God, and that can make all the difference!

            The baptismal font stands at the front of sanctuary to remind us that we’ve been initiated into this congregation, as well as into the universal church of Jesus Christ.

            In our Presbyterian and Reformed tradition, our understanding of baptism emphasizes God’s initiative.  God reaches out graciously to us, and offers us the gift of life in the kingdom as a free gift.  We respond by dedicating our lives to Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior and committing ourselves to follow him.  Baptism is the beginning of our life in the church…a first step in a journey that takes a lifetime.

            When we baptize children, we promise to teach them who they are in the light of God’s truth.  We promise to teach them what makes them different as part of a holy people…a royal priesthood…consecrated to God’s service. 

            When parents present their child for baptism, they promise to live the Christian faith themselves, and to teach that faith to their children, by word and example.  To grow up in the faith, we and our children need to worship and learn together—in our families, and in the faith community which is the church. 

            Today, we’re inviting Dominic to be part of the great adventure we call church. What God will make of Dominic’s life, or where God will lead him, we don’t know. But what we do know-- what we can say with certainty, because we have God’s promise—is that God is with us every step of the way.

            May God bless Dominic and his family and all of us on our adventure in faith, as we live into God’s Kingdom together!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

May 22, 2016

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^[1] David Lose, “Trinity C: Don't Mention the Trinity!”.  http://www.davidlose.net/2016/05/trinity-c-shh-dont-mention-the-trinity/   

^[2] Karoline Lewis, “Trinity Talk.”  https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?m=4377&post=4648

[3] 1 John 3:1