God has called you home, to feast with him at his table. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!
First Reading: Deuteronomy 4:32-34, 39-40
Psalm: Psalm 32(33):4-6, 9, 18-20, 22
Second Reading: Romans 8:14-17
Gospel: Matthew 28:16-20
Over the past few weeks we’ve been reflecting on the Persons of the Trinity in different ways; we’ve seen how the Father loves the Son, how the Son came into the world as Saviour, how the Spirit descended upon the disciples as upon us and lives within us.
Those threads come together on this day: Trinity Sunday.
The Trinity is powerfully relevant and absolutely practical in day to day life. There’s something unique and identifying about being a person. Personhood allows relationships.
That type of personhood is in God’s nature; there are three identifiable and relational persons in the oneness that is God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Each Person is totally God, but the Father is not the Son and is not the Spirit.
It’s confusing, I know, but it’s so vital to how we relate to God ourselves. Here’s a really simple way to think about it: God = what; Father/Son/Spirit = who.
Ok, but why is it vital?
Let me give you one example. Have a look at the Collect prayer for today’s Mass or almost any liturgy of the Church. You’ll see this format: it addresses the Father directly, through the Son, in the Spirit. That’s a biblical pattern; look at many New Testament prayers, and you’ll see it reflected there.
Prayer is TO the Father, THROUGH the Son, IN the Spirit: our acts of prayer are Trinitarian. Of course, we can go to Jesus directly or the Spirit directly, but there’s purpose and wisdom in how the Church prays liturgically and normatively. It’s this:
Our basic problem as human beings is that we are fallen. We are not holy. God, however, is searingly holy, so much so that the Seraphim in Isaiah 6 have to shield their faces from his glory.
God wants relationship with us, but if we were to approach him as he is with how we are now… it would be like flying too close to the sun. As an Eastern Rite communion prayer says, we would burn up like grass.
How can we have a relationship with a God who is dangerous for us to approach?
This is the dilemma that is answered at Mount Sinai with the giving of the Law. The first primary sacrifice of the Law was the whole burnt offering. To oversimplify it, the logic is this: the worshipper wishes to approach God (say to offer thanks for a blessing received), but first has to offer a whole burnt offering.
Unlike the other types of sacrifice, the whole burnt offering was totally consumed by fire. It is as if the worshipper was saying to the Lord: ‘I want to come and give you thanks, but I’m aware of how I fall short of your holiness. I want to approach you safely, so let your holiness burn up this offering instead so that I can come into your presence.’
In the New Covenant, Jesus is our whole burnt offering. The Son of God became the one wholly consumed on the Cross so that safe access to the Father is possible. In the Ascension, which we celebrated a few weeks ago, Jesus as the High Priest entered into the heavenly sanctuary, where he remains even now offering the merits of his sacrifice.
Of course, we still fall short of God’s complete holiness. This is where the Spirit enters the drama.
In baptism, which is the focus of today’s gospel passage, the Spirit grafts us into the Body of Christ.
We can approach the holiness of the Father because we are part of the Body of Christ; we go to the Father through Jesus. We can’t go without him! If we did, we would be burned up.
We are only able to stand in the Body of Christ because the Spirit of Christ lives in us and makes that connection real and constant.
Every time you pray, whether in the liturgy or privately, the Spirit connects you to Jesus the High Priest before the throne of the Father, and you speak to the Father as if through Jesus’ lips. That reality is as readily available to you as closing your eyes and making the sign of the cross.
The letter to the Hebrews sums it up succinctly: We have access to the Father’s presence and can come boldly (Hebrews 4:16).
The reality of the Trinity is as intimate and personal as your slightest, most fleeting prayer. Jesus came into this world to enable this kind of relationship to happen.
A few weeks ago, I referenced Rublev’s icon, the Hospitality of Abraham. The Trinity’s desire was to open up that empty space at the table for you. It was achieved in Jesus and is made accessible in the Spirit. The Father has called you home to feast with him at his table. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!