Today is Trinity Sunday. “The problem with the Trinity,” someone told me once, “is that I hear the word, but nothing comes to mind.”… My problem is a little different: when I hear the word, something does come to mind. It’s just not what you’d expect. Whenever I hear the word Trinity, I always think of a woman named Paula.
In order to explain why, I have to go back to the year 1979. That was the year I moved from Maine to study theology at Harvard Divinity School. My job in Maine had been managing a bookstore and since I had a young family to support, I took a job managing the Divinity School bookstore. The store was a work-study site. That meant that I was required to hire my staff entirely from other theology students — a scary prospect, let me tell you. I put up a sign advertising that I had job openings.
Paula was the first person to walk through the door.
Now, in order to understand why Paula had such an effect on me I have to remind you that this was 1979. The Punk Rock Movement was still relatively new. Not only that, I had, as I said, been living in Maine — not exactly a vanguard of cultural trends. True, I had seen a Mohawk haircut before. It’s just that until I met Paula I’d never seen one on a woman. I’d also seen tattoos. Until Paula, though, I’d never seen them on the side of someone’s shaved head. Earrings and piercings weren’t new either. But until I met Paula, I’d never seen quite so many all on one person. When Paula walked through the door, then, let me tell you: I… was… impressed.…I hired her at once.
I soon discovered that Paula had other interesting qualities too. One was that she referred to everyone based solely on their generic relationship to her. I was “Boss.” Simply “Boss.” Her mom and dad weren’t “Mom” and ‘Dad.” They were “Parental Unit.” Her boyfriend was “Boyfriend.” She didn’t call him my boyfriend, just… Boyfriend.
Can you work Thursday night, Paula?” I asked her once.
“No can do, Boss,” she answered. “Boyfriend needs face-time.”
Actually, I met Boyfriend once. He turned out to be strangely ordinary looking.
Boss, meet Boyfriend,” Paula said. “Boyfriend, meet Boss.”
We shook hands.
“Hi Boyfriend,” I said. “Hi, Boss,” he answered.
It felt kind of freeing, actually.
Except for her tendency to switch the classical music station we always had playing on the bookstore radio to Punk Rock whenever she thought I wouldn’t notice, Paula and I got on quite well. Then one day I realized that although Paula was a theology student just as I was, I had no idea what had actually brought her here. So I asked her.
“Oh that’s easy, Boss,” she said. “I’m completely in love with the Trinity.”
The Trinity. Now that shocked me. Nothing Paula had done until then had shocked me, but that did. I stared at her. In those days, I viewed the Trinity as simply a dusty old doctrine. What could the Trinity possibly say to someone as cutting edge as Paula?
“The trinity?” I said. “The trinity? But why?”
“Well, look, Boss,” Paula said. “It’s simple. The Trinity’s just a way to say that there are different ways to experience God, but they’re still all the same God. I mean, think how you feel when you’re camping and you look up at the stars at night. You feel tiny, right? That’s an experience of the first person of the trinity, the great mystery and power of God. But we can also experience God in people too. That started with Jesus. But I find God in Boyfriend, in Parental Unit,… even in you sometimes, Boss.… See? That’s the second person of the trinity. Sometimes, though, we can also experience God as a tiny nudge, a little whisper in our heads, a gentle tap on the shoulder. That’s the way God guides us and that’s the third person of the trinity, the Holy Spirit. They’re all different ways to know God, but they’re still all the same God. Isn’t that great? How can anyone not love the Trinity!”
Over the years I’ve come to see just how right Paula was about all this. It was she who made me aware of the Trinity. It was she, that is, who made me aware of just how many ways God comes to me. Let me tell you a few of the ways God has come to me recently.
First, there’s the experience of the mystery and power of God. For months and months now I’ve been experiencing this in the majesty of the Eucharist as we celebrate it here at St. Marks. It’s there in the reverence of the prayers. It’s there in the dignity of the service. It’s there in the power and mystery of the music — the splendor of our magnificent organ music, the brilliance of our exquisite choir. For Sunday after Sunday, the worship service here at St. Marks has shown me the power of God, the mystery of God, the beauty of God: it’s shown me, in other words, the 1st person of the Trinity and it takes my breath away.
Next, there’s the 2nd person of the trinity, God incarnate. Jesus told us that we’ll never really be able to see the God in him until we can see God in each other and here at St. Mark’s, every single one of you has shown me a different face of Christ in a way that has moved me deeply. You’ve shown me the face of Christ in the warmth of the Peace you offer one another here. You’ve shown me Christ in the friendliness of the welcome of the fellowship hour in the hall after the service. You’ve shown me Christ in the extraordinary sense of mutual caring and dedication I see in the members of the Vestry — and in fact, in all who serve here — the Vergers (both present and retired), the Eucharistic Ministers, the Lectors, the acolytes, the ushers, the cooks and planners of St. Mark’s amazing celebrations and dinners… everyone. In addition, I experienced Christ in a very personal way in the four people who gave up their time to offer me guidance and support as part of my lay committee, Winston, Joan, Woody, and Betty. In this way, each of you — all of you — have brought me closer to Christ.
Especially important have also been two other people. At one point I told Canon Linda that there are four priests in this diocese who I regard as particular role models. One is our Bishop, Mary. The second is the rector of my home parish, Wendy Smith. The other two, though, are here at St. Marks. In the time I’ve been here, Pastor Kate has not only been for me a supportive companion, she’s also been a wise and gentle guide. And as for Canon Linda — my admiration of her gifts and my gratitude for her help simply goes beyond words. They’re both my heroes.
Finally, though, there’s the 3rd Person of the trinity — God as the Holy Spirit, God as the quiet guide and counselor of our lives. I’ve felt this everywhere at St. Marks. I’ve felt it in gorgeous banners and stunning liturgical art. I’ve felt it in the visionary goals which all of you helped develop for this parish. I’ve felt it especially in the fact that so many of you have actually signed up to help implement those goals: that means that you’ve felt the Spirit too. I also felt the spirit again and again during the wonderful bible study that we had on Sunday nights. Sometimes as we’d talk there I’d feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. When that happens, you know you’ve been touched by the Holy Spirit! I especially sense the movement of the spirit in Canon Linda’s idea for a reconciliation center. I believe that the Holy Spirit really is guiding her in this and that, through this center, St. Mark’s will touch the lives of many, many people. Finally, of course, I felt the movement of the Holy Spirit just in the way it drew me to this wonderful parish.
The God we experience in mystery and power, the God we experience in each other, the God we come to know in God’s guidance in our lives — Paula was right: “How can anyone not love the Trinity?”
It’s fitting then that today — Trinity Sunday — should be my last day as a Field Ed. student here at St. Marks. It’s fitting because, from now on, whenever I hear the word “Trinity,” it will be this image that comes to mind: I’ll think of St. Marks. I’ll think… of you.