topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity (B)
07 June 09
 


 

As part of my program of study in preparation for ordination, I spent three summers in the Bronx studying theology at Fordham University.

Living in the Bronx, I was a racial minority.  There were lots of Blacks as well as Korean immigrants and Hispanic immigrants from the Caribbean basin, especially the Dominican Republic.  There were very few Caucasians, except for some elderly Irish widows who had lived their entire lives in the Bronx and a small community of Italians of all ages living in the neighborhood surrounding Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church.

One of the more delightful experiences living in the Bronx afforded was going out for dinner on Friday nights with two great priests and fellow Augustinians, Fr. Al Smith (the grandson of Democratic presidential candidate, Alfred Smith) and Fr. Jimmy “Cos” Glennon (for “Cosmos,” as Fr. Glennon’s students at St. Nick’s in the Bronx called their beloved physics teacher...his mind was always somewhere out there in the cosmos).  There were lots of foreign cuisines to enjoy, but Mama Leones always was their favorite.  Another delightful experience was learning to cook authentic Caribbean dishes—like arroz con pollo—from Rosa, the immigrant lady from the Dominican Republic whose job was to keep clean the monastery’s public areas.  Sunday afternoon dinner at Rosa’s home with her clan was a real treat.

The reason I enrolled at Fordham was because the University had a special program in Eastern Christian theology at its Rose Tree Campus adjacent to the Grand Concourse. There, too, I was a minority; but, not because I was an Augustinian attending a Jesuit university.  No, I was a minority because I was one of two Roman Catholics studying in this particular program.  The other students were all Eastern Orthodox Catholics.

Thrust into the status of a racial and religious minority during those three summers, I enjoyed seeing the worlds of the Bronx and of Roman Catholicism through very different sets of lenses.

One particular area of theological difference with the Eastern Orthodox had to do with what my professors would berate as our “intellectual approach” to theology.  That is, as a whole, Roman Catholics tend to prefer rational explanations about what are, in reality, inexplicable mysteries.  As far as the Eastern Orthodox are concerned, a mystery can’t be explained because it can’t be reduced to a thought.  Instead, a mystery must be experienced—to encounter the ground of the mystery and be transformed by it—and then lived out each day.  That’s why, for the Eastern Orthodox, icons are so important.  As we gaze into the image of the mystery depicted, its theology enters through our senses, into our minds, and, if we allow the mystery to do so, to enter into our souls as God’s life transcends space and time to make its home in us.

Take, for instance, today’s Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity.  Now, here’s a mystery we Roman Catholics have done a lot of thinking about for twenty centuries!  All of us know―with our minds―from our study of the Catechism that the Trinity is our belief in one God revealed to humanity in three persons: the Father (the “Creator” who made us); the Son (the “Savior” who redeemed us); and, the Spirit (the “Sanctifier” who makes us holy).

Over the centuries, we Catholics have also developed analogies to express what the mystery of the Trinity means.

Believe it or not, the first analogy describing the Trinity I ever heard was being propounded at the “Villanova of the Midwest,” Notre Dame University.  Growing up in Chicago, a the Fightin’ Irish alumnus claimed that the Holy Cross Fathers had taught St. Patrick to use a shamrock to explain this mystery to the pagans: three leaves symbolizing three distinct persons; one stem which is the source of its being; indivisible, because lacking any element, it wouldn’t be a shamrock; yet, each element having its own identity of, symbolizing unity in diversity.

Personally, I think that story a bunch of blarney.  But, as analogies go, it’s a good one because the visual image of the shamrock appeals to our minds.  As the Eastern Orthodox would remind us, however, when we start talking about the mystery of the Trinity, notice how our words become vaporous and we end up having more questions than we started with.  Likewise, the image of the shamrock remains in our minds; it doesn’t sink down through our necks and down into our souls.  We don’t experience the mystery; we aren’t transformed by it; and, we don’t live it out each day.  In short, we render one of the most central beliefs of our faith completely irrelevant to how we live our lives.

A second analogy I read about as a youngster was related through a story in Butler’s Lives of the Saints (I believe).  The story was about St. Augustine, who the Eastern Orthodox at Fordham University railed against for his intellectualism, second of course only to St. Thomas Aquinas.  But, since I was an Augustinian and knowing I wasn’t one to shrink back from a debate, the Eastern Orthodox made St. Augustine the target of their well-intentioned attempts to get my goat.

When St. Augustine was writing his now-famous book, The Trinity—the most recent translation of which is 437 pages of small print—took a walk on the beach.  St. Augustine happened by a youngster who had a sand shovel and small bucket.  St. Augustine observed the youngster dig a hole in the sand and then proceed to the shore, fill the bucket with water, and pour the water into the hole.  The youngster kept repeating this pattern, which drew St. Augustine’s attention.

So, he inquired of the youngster, “Just what in the bejeezes are you doing?” (No, St. Augustine didn’t use that word.  I’m just trying to keep your attention.)

The youngster explained: “I’m going to empty the entire sea into this hole!”

St. Augustine told the youngster he would never accomplish his objective because it is impossible to pour the entire sea into such a small hole.

God responded to St. Augustine through the youngster’s voice: “And you, Augustine, will never be able to explain the mystery of the Trinity.”

As analogies go, this story is good because it reminds us that for all of our talk about the mystery of the Trinity, it’s nothing but a bunch of words.  If those words don’t sink down through our necks and down into our souls, then we don’t experience the mystery, we aren’t transformed by it, and we certainly won’t live it out each day.  So, why have the mystery especially since the word “Trinity” doesn’t appear in the Bible?

I don’t think there is anyone who loves to “think theology” more than I do.  I also don’t think there is anyone more convinced than I that the mysteries of our faith—like the Trinity—are more important and vital to our lives.  But, the Eastern Orthodox make an important point that we shouldn’t forget: if these mysteries don’t slap us across the face to awaken in our souls the fact that God loves us and is personally present to us, then we really don’t have faith.  All we have is a bunch of nice answers to catechism questions.  But, those answers are meaningless in terms of our existence as a creature of God.

No doubt, similar to the Trinity, love is a mystery.  Who could ever explain rationally how so many men and women are attracted to one another?  It just doesn’t make sense!  Or, as some in-laws put it, “What do they see in each other?”  But, from a faith perspective—one penned by St. Augustine in his book, The Trinity, what attract so many couples to each other is an experience of the Trinity: three persons—God, man, and woman, so much in love with each other; that, although distinct persons, are united through the power of their love as one; and, possessing three separate wills, again through the power of love, each person directs its will solely for the good of the other two persons.  Think about it: we see the Trinity in those who truly live the Sacrament of Marriage...and it is beautiful to behold!

While we can talk about the Trinity as a mysterious idea, it is also a spiritual experience opening before us the depths of who we are and can become as creatures of God.  Isn’t that what we celebrate at a 25th, 40th, or 50th anniversary?  Despite all of the difficulties and challenges, despite all of the doubts and temptations, despite all of the disagreements and bickering over the years, is not what we celebrate this man and this woman and this God whose love for each other reveals to us the triune God the Father who creates, the Son who redeems, and the Spirit who sanctifies this mystery called “love”?

All of us were baptized with a formula that invokes the names of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Each Sunday, we begin the Liturgy of the Eucharist, making the sign of the Cross and saying, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen” (meaning, “So be it”).  And, when we die and are brought into church for our final liturgy of the Eucharist, our funeral will begin with the priest-celebrant addressing these words to the congregation: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”

From our first days to the day of our burial, the mystery of the Trinity is central to our faith as well as to our personal and public prayer.  Is this mystery part of our daily lives?

The fact that the Trinity is a mystery means that we can never exhaust its complete meaning.  Even though the term “Trinity” never appears in the Scriptures, the concept bespeaks the Church’s attempt through the Christian centuries to capture the idea the God is One, but experienced in three different ways (or “persons”).  So, as the Eastern Orthodox rightly ask, why do we waste our time talking about it?  This mystery helps us experience God’s love for us.  Which is more important, to understand God’s love or to experience God’s love in such a way that it transforms us and our lives? Because the ramifications of the mystery of the Trinity are unending, the fact that we never will fully understand this mystery makes us realize that there will always be more surprises about God’s love for us to experience and contemplate.

When Zechariah prophesied the birth of Mary’s son, Zechariah told Mary to name him “Emmanuel,” that is, “God is with us.”  The mystery of the Trinity reminds us just how God is with us, present and active in our lives, as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.  This is no mere idea; more importantly, it is a spiritual experience that has the power to transform our lives.

Knowing their doubts, Jesus told his disciples, “Remember, I will be with you.”  Yes, Emmanuel—“God is with us”—even in our doubts, if we but open both our minds and our souls to know and to experience this great mystery of our faith.

 

 

 

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