St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church

3800 East Third Street

Bloomington, Indiana 47401

(812) 332-5252


Sermon for Holy Trinity Sunday (May 30, 2010)

Liturgical Color: White

Pastor Kelli J. Skram


Mindful of the Mysteries, Great and Small

Today is Holy Trinity Sunday, the day in our church year when we focus on the God who is Father, Son and Spirit rolled into one. Now I have to admit, when I was in seminary, discussions about the trinitarian nature of God drove me up a wall. As well-meaning theologians-in-training, my classmates and I were constantly searching for the perfect analogy to describe the relationships within the Trinity. Yet even our most creative and well thought out analogies would get shot down by our professors.

Without fail our teachers would take our terms for the three-in-one and turn them into teachable illustrations of what the trinity is not. When it came to describing the Trinity, we were always coming up short and, frankly, so were our professors. After all, even when, out of intellectual exhaustion, we pleaded with them to provide us with that perfect analogy to adequately illustrate the triune God, they couldn't do it either.

While I, like most preachers, still long for an adequate visual aid, some sort of divine image to help us get a better handle on this relational mystery we call "God", the truth is the Trinity is one of those mysteries we never can fully grasp. Human attempts to explain the Trinity always miss the mark, which is one of the reasons I am so drawn to our psalm for today.

Our psalm for this Holy Trinity Sunday provides a perfect window through which to marvel at the mystery that is God. Psalm 8 opens with the author gazing upon the vast expanse of universe that has been crafted by God's very own fingers. Staring into the heavens above, the author is stunned by the beauty of stars and moon. Wrapped up in wonder and awe, the psalmist admires the canvas of God's creative handiwork and is overcome by the greatness of God.

You and I can relate to this experience of the psalmist, even if it has been a while since we have taken time to ponder God.s great work. There are moments in life when we, too, are amazed by a world filled with complex details far beyond our grasp. It can happen when we reach the peak of a mountain or stand high on a hillside, overlooking the valley below. It can happen when we witness the birth of a child. It can happen the moment we emerge from a windowless building and are blasted with fresh air for the first time in hours. From time to time, experience jolts our senses and carries us to a realm beyond ourselves. And for as long as we dwell there, our immediate concerns fade into the background of God.s amazing creation.

As we glimpse the God who is so much greater than our troubles, we can stumble upon a certain kind of peace, perhaps even let go of the worries that press in on us. And yet, as our psalm points out, musing over the magnitude of God.s creation can also terrify us. When realize we exist amidst an infinite number of particles in God.s field of vision, we might begin to wonder, how can our little lives possibly matter? In the scope of God.s handiwork, we can find ourselves feeling so very small and insignificant.

Our psalm for today speaks to any who have ever wondered whether their lives or actions have meaning in the big picture. Pointing to the greatness of God and our psalmist carries us back to the creation narrative. You may recall that the first chapter in Genesis is a statement of faith. Handed down by those who went before us, the parable of creation expounds on timeless truths about the nature of God. Both the creation story and our psalm for today help us better understand the role of God in the universe. Both help us identify our place in the big picture.

In Genesis, we learn that God as creator is powerful, yet playful. Here we see God playing with the soil, forming a new figure from mere dust and dirt. And, in our psalm, we are told that these creatures of dust matter to God, so much so that God deems them just 'a little lower than angels.' Standing in awe of these dust creatures, God initiates a relationship with humankind. God, the creator, lays an offering at the feet of humans. God spreads land and sea before humanity, along with countless living plants and creatures. This one whose greatness exceeds all else makes a point of treating those below as if they, too, are deserving of honor and admiration. God, the three in one, is in love with humankind and God entrusts these curious creatures to care for all that exists in the world around them.

Despite our relative smallness in the context of creation, God is mindful of human beings. God has made a place for you and me in this vast expanse of universe. And God has given us a purpose, too. God has called us to be caretakers of creation. It is an important role, and a daunting one, and yet, God equips us for this purpose: we are made to be reflections of God.s image in the world. You and I take our cues from God, doing unto all of creation what God has first done to us. Even aspects of creation that would seem to be .beneath us., we treat as greater than ourselves. And we do this because the God who bows down to serve all of creation, great and small, inspires us to do the same. We are mindful of the rest of creation, just as God is mindful of us.

Mindfulness is not an easy practice. These days, being mindful of anything for any length of time takes effort on our part. But God's word for us today is that we would do well be mindful of the mysteries in life, not only those the world deems great but also— and perhaps especially— those so small they often go unnoticed.

One of my favorite authors, Barbara Brown Taylor suggests that mindfulness is really just a matter of paying attention. She notes we can practice mindfulness in the way we approach our everyday tasks. As we tend a garden, while we wash windows, even when we page through a mail order catalog, we can be mindful.

The practice of paying attention begins simply, with setting aside our to-do lists and turning off our cell phones, long enough to remember that we are not alone in creation. Paying attention means taking note of the world around us— its rhythms, and its needs. And when it becomes too overwhelming to take it all in, it is enough to focus our attention on just one part of God's creation. We can pick a person, an animal, or a plant. Even a tiny pest will do.

Pay attention to this other living being long enough to learn what makes it flourish. Watch it closely enough to find out what makes it wither. Discover what you can do, or avoid doing, to help it along the way. Pay attention to the things that connect your life to the one before you.

As you and I pay attention in these ways, we not only grow in our understanding of and respect for the creature we are admiring. We also become more mindful of ourselves and our own needs. Stopping to admire another part of God's creation, we learn what really makes us tick. We get better acquainted with the creative spirit behind both ourselves and the other whom we admire.

Mindfulness of small matters enhances life for all. Bowing down, attend to those aspects of creation that are "beneath us", compels us once again to praise the greatest mystery of the world has ever known. We come full circle, back to the one whose ways will never cease to amaze and inspire, back to the one who, out of love, creates, redeems, and sustains us now and forever.

 

 

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