May 2021
"Holy Stories"
Based on John 15:26-27, 16:12-15 (text is available below)
May 23, 2021
This week, I attended “The Festival of Homiletics,” an online conference about preaching sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul. On Thursday, one of the presenters was Kaitlin Curtice, a Christian and member of the Potawatomi Nation. She writes about the intersection of Indigenous spirituality, faith in everyday life, and decolonization within the Church.
Kaitlin told us a sacred story from her Native American tradition that she uses as the basis for her new book, NATIVE: Identity, Belonging and Rediscovering God.* A flood story that sounds similar to the story of Noah and the ark in Genesis. In reality, that Biblical story is not unique. More than three hundred stories of great floods are found around the world—from South America to India to Australia.
The Potawatomi flood story is similar to stories told by other Native American tribes. This one focuses on the time after the massive flood. When the surviving creatures ask what life will look like on the other side of destruction.
The story goes like this: The “Original Man” is sitting on a large log, floating on what seems like an endless ocean. He wonders if earth can be remade again. Beside him sit some animals—his kin, pondering the same question. Eventually, the animals decide to do something about their predicament. They look at each other, and one whispers, “It’s time.”
One by one, they take turns diving into the water. Trying to bring up some dirt from the bottom so they can recreate land. But one after another, each animal fails. Until at last, “Muskrat” volunteers. Muskrat dives deep down into the sea. Finally coming up with fistfuls of dirt. But Muskrat dies along the way, sacrificing his life to save his kin—to help them begin again. To start a new creation.
In her talk, Kaitlin compared our situation to the flood story. A story about an ending and a new beginning. A story not just about something that happened in her people’s past. A sacred and holy story that is still true today, because it repeats itself in our world. A story about the reality we face. With what feels like the ending of a pandemic and beginning of what life might be like on the other side of this calamity.
Today’s first reading from Acts is also a holy story about an ending and a new beginning. The disciples are gathered in the upper room. The same room where they met with Jesus for the Last Supper, the night before he died, and sacrificed himself on the cross. The same room where Jesus appeared to them after his resurrection. Promising to be with them. Promising to send the “Paraclete”—his name for a spirit creature that would show them the way to a new beginning.
And now it’s fifty days after Jesus rose from the dead. Suddenly, the windows blow open and the room is filled with wind. And a voice whispers, “It’s time!” Then flames of fire appear above everyone’s head. And each starts speaking in a language different than their native tongue. Where diversity explodes like a blooming rose. Red flames of a new beginning.
Some scholars say that this story is a reversal of another well-known Bible story: The Tower of Babel. In Genesis, we are told that in ancient times, people spoke just one language. One day, the people decide to create a tall temple. They begin building a pyramid that would reach to heaven—representing their dream of becoming divine. But God brings a halt to the massive construction by causing them to speak new dialects, so they can no longer understand one other. The story of a failed human development project.
So, Pentecost is the Babel story turned upside down. Where God whispers to us, “It’s time.” And surprises us with an unexpected ending. Where we as individuals can come to understand people who are different from ourselves. Pentecost has been called the birthday of the church. And while that is true, I think Pentecost is more than a story about our Church’s ancient past. Pentecost is another story about endings and beginnings. A story that repeats itself over and over again in our lives.
Five years ago, Pentecost was that kind of day for me. A holy day. For on the eve of Pentecost, I was ordained. And June 1st was first day here at St. Mark’s. My ordination marked the end of my previous life of working in social services, and a new beginning of something that I thought was impossible. Being gay, I used to think that there was no way I could ever be a pastor. Being older, I used to wonder if it was too late to consider a second career.
But the Spirit started a new story for me. And for you people here at St. Mark’s. So here I am. And here we are. Sharing this story together. Recreating a community out of the remnants of a congregation whose story some thought had ended. And every year here with you as your pastor has brought a new saga to our St. Mark’s history together.
The past year has been full of endings and beginnings for all of us. Many people have lost loved ones. With untold stories of devastating loss and grief. And one year ago this Tuesday, on May 25, George Floyd was killed. Which was the beginning of a worldwide story of Black Lives Matter demonstrations and demands for justice by for Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC).
A story that has not ended. A story which we hope has new beginnings. Though many are struggling to find hope in the face of similar deaths nationwide.
In her lecture on Thursday, Kaitlin offered suggestions to keep our holy story of hope alive, especially in the struggle against racism. Three ways each of us can embody hope.
Her first suggestion is to keep expanding our circle of life and relationships by “de-centering whiteness.” For her, de-centering whiteness is a way of envisioning something different for our world. For many of us, it’s so hard to look beyond our society’s “sacred” stories from a white perspective.
But there’s a gift to be found in de-centering whiteness. As we intentionally create new ways of including those whom our systems exclude, within our society and community—and especially within our Church.
Kaitlin’s second suggestion for recreating our story of hope is to “return to the gifts of the earth.” Especially in terms of unlearning the stories that white supremacy has taught us. Like stories about ownership—so that we can come to see that property and land do not really belong to us. That everything is a gift from the Creator Spirit.
She suggests we can learn new stories by listening to the creatures of this earth. Listening to the songs of birds. Listening to water as it runs through rivers and falls from the sky. Listening to the sounds of muskrats and loons in our lakes.
Finally, Kaitlin suggests that we can also learn to make hope a part of our personal story by practicing radical self-love and self-care. In our current world, many of us are struggling with depression and grief, so our stories need to include words that not only name our own personal trauma, but also embrace your and my inner child.
Which we begin to do by asking ourselves questions like: Where do you need to practice radical self-love? Or, where have you been neglecting your deepest needs? Or, where have you stopped listening to your secret dreams?
And when we choose healing and wholeness and love for ourselves, we also choose to create a new holy story together. A story that saves our world. Which is our calling as children of our Abba God. And our faith as followers of the risen Jesus. And our story as disciples of the Holy Paraclete.
A story that repeats itself today. Where the Spirit whispers once again, “It’s time.” Where we start at an ending. Where we ask questions along the way. Where together we arrive at a new beginning. Then we start it all over, again and again and again.
That, my friends, is the true story of Pentecost. With endings that leads to new beginnings. A holy story that ends with a new creation. Amen.
-----------------------------
* https://blackchristiannews.com/2020/05/kaitlin-curtice-on-looking-to-an-indigenous-flood-story-for-lessons-on-grieving-during-the-pandemic/; https://kaitlincurtice.com/book/
FIRST LESSON: Acts 2:1-21 (NRSV)
When the day of Pentecost had come, [the apostles] were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.” But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ ”
GOSPEL LESSON: John 15:26-27, 16:12-15 (The Inclusive Bible)
[Jesus said,] “When the Paraclete comes—the Spirit of truth who comes from Abba God, whom I myself will send from my Abba— she will bear witness on my behalf. You too must bear witness, for you’ve been with me from the beginning.… I have much more to tell you, but you can’t bear to hear it now. When the Spirit of truth comes, she will guide you into all truth. She won’t speak on her own initiative; rather, she’ll speak only what she hears, and she’ll announce to you things that are yet to come. In doing this, the Spirit will give glory to me, for she will take what is mine and reveal it to you. Everything that Abba God has belongs to me. This is why I said that the Spirit will take what is mine and reveal it to you.”
Kaitlin told us a sacred story from her Native American tradition that she uses as the basis for her new book, NATIVE: Identity, Belonging and Rediscovering God.* A flood story that sounds similar to the story of Noah and the ark in Genesis. In reality, that Biblical story is not unique. More than three hundred stories of great floods are found around the world—from South America to India to Australia.
The Potawatomi flood story is similar to stories told by other Native American tribes. This one focuses on the time after the massive flood. When the surviving creatures ask what life will look like on the other side of destruction.
The story goes like this: The “Original Man” is sitting on a large log, floating on what seems like an endless ocean. He wonders if earth can be remade again. Beside him sit some animals—his kin, pondering the same question. Eventually, the animals decide to do something about their predicament. They look at each other, and one whispers, “It’s time.”
One by one, they take turns diving into the water. Trying to bring up some dirt from the bottom so they can recreate land. But one after another, each animal fails. Until at last, “Muskrat” volunteers. Muskrat dives deep down into the sea. Finally coming up with fistfuls of dirt. But Muskrat dies along the way, sacrificing his life to save his kin—to help them begin again. To start a new creation.
In her talk, Kaitlin compared our situation to the flood story. A story about an ending and a new beginning. A story not just about something that happened in her people’s past. A sacred and holy story that is still true today, because it repeats itself in our world. A story about the reality we face. With what feels like the ending of a pandemic and beginning of what life might be like on the other side of this calamity.
Today’s first reading from Acts is also a holy story about an ending and a new beginning. The disciples are gathered in the upper room. The same room where they met with Jesus for the Last Supper, the night before he died, and sacrificed himself on the cross. The same room where Jesus appeared to them after his resurrection. Promising to be with them. Promising to send the “Paraclete”—his name for a spirit creature that would show them the way to a new beginning.
And now it’s fifty days after Jesus rose from the dead. Suddenly, the windows blow open and the room is filled with wind. And a voice whispers, “It’s time!” Then flames of fire appear above everyone’s head. And each starts speaking in a language different than their native tongue. Where diversity explodes like a blooming rose. Red flames of a new beginning.
Some scholars say that this story is a reversal of another well-known Bible story: The Tower of Babel. In Genesis, we are told that in ancient times, people spoke just one language. One day, the people decide to create a tall temple. They begin building a pyramid that would reach to heaven—representing their dream of becoming divine. But God brings a halt to the massive construction by causing them to speak new dialects, so they can no longer understand one other. The story of a failed human development project.
So, Pentecost is the Babel story turned upside down. Where God whispers to us, “It’s time.” And surprises us with an unexpected ending. Where we as individuals can come to understand people who are different from ourselves. Pentecost has been called the birthday of the church. And while that is true, I think Pentecost is more than a story about our Church’s ancient past. Pentecost is another story about endings and beginnings. A story that repeats itself over and over again in our lives.
Five years ago, Pentecost was that kind of day for me. A holy day. For on the eve of Pentecost, I was ordained. And June 1st was first day here at St. Mark’s. My ordination marked the end of my previous life of working in social services, and a new beginning of something that I thought was impossible. Being gay, I used to think that there was no way I could ever be a pastor. Being older, I used to wonder if it was too late to consider a second career.
But the Spirit started a new story for me. And for you people here at St. Mark’s. So here I am. And here we are. Sharing this story together. Recreating a community out of the remnants of a congregation whose story some thought had ended. And every year here with you as your pastor has brought a new saga to our St. Mark’s history together.
The past year has been full of endings and beginnings for all of us. Many people have lost loved ones. With untold stories of devastating loss and grief. And one year ago this Tuesday, on May 25, George Floyd was killed. Which was the beginning of a worldwide story of Black Lives Matter demonstrations and demands for justice by for Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC).
A story that has not ended. A story which we hope has new beginnings. Though many are struggling to find hope in the face of similar deaths nationwide.
In her lecture on Thursday, Kaitlin offered suggestions to keep our holy story of hope alive, especially in the struggle against racism. Three ways each of us can embody hope.
Her first suggestion is to keep expanding our circle of life and relationships by “de-centering whiteness.” For her, de-centering whiteness is a way of envisioning something different for our world. For many of us, it’s so hard to look beyond our society’s “sacred” stories from a white perspective.
But there’s a gift to be found in de-centering whiteness. As we intentionally create new ways of including those whom our systems exclude, within our society and community—and especially within our Church.
Kaitlin’s second suggestion for recreating our story of hope is to “return to the gifts of the earth.” Especially in terms of unlearning the stories that white supremacy has taught us. Like stories about ownership—so that we can come to see that property and land do not really belong to us. That everything is a gift from the Creator Spirit.
She suggests we can learn new stories by listening to the creatures of this earth. Listening to the songs of birds. Listening to water as it runs through rivers and falls from the sky. Listening to the sounds of muskrats and loons in our lakes.
Finally, Kaitlin suggests that we can also learn to make hope a part of our personal story by practicing radical self-love and self-care. In our current world, many of us are struggling with depression and grief, so our stories need to include words that not only name our own personal trauma, but also embrace your and my inner child.
Which we begin to do by asking ourselves questions like: Where do you need to practice radical self-love? Or, where have you been neglecting your deepest needs? Or, where have you stopped listening to your secret dreams?
And when we choose healing and wholeness and love for ourselves, we also choose to create a new holy story together. A story that saves our world. Which is our calling as children of our Abba God. And our faith as followers of the risen Jesus. And our story as disciples of the Holy Paraclete.
A story that repeats itself today. Where the Spirit whispers once again, “It’s time.” Where we start at an ending. Where we ask questions along the way. Where together we arrive at a new beginning. Then we start it all over, again and again and again.
That, my friends, is the true story of Pentecost. With endings that leads to new beginnings. A holy story that ends with a new creation. Amen.
-----------------------------
* https://blackchristiannews.com/2020/05/kaitlin-curtice-on-looking-to-an-indigenous-flood-story-for-lessons-on-grieving-during-the-pandemic/; https://kaitlincurtice.com/book/
FIRST LESSON: Acts 2:1-21 (NRSV)
When the day of Pentecost had come, [the apostles] were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.” But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ ”
GOSPEL LESSON: John 15:26-27, 16:12-15 (The Inclusive Bible)
[Jesus said,] “When the Paraclete comes—the Spirit of truth who comes from Abba God, whom I myself will send from my Abba— she will bear witness on my behalf. You too must bear witness, for you’ve been with me from the beginning.… I have much more to tell you, but you can’t bear to hear it now. When the Spirit of truth comes, she will guide you into all truth. She won’t speak on her own initiative; rather, she’ll speak only what she hears, and she’ll announce to you things that are yet to come. In doing this, the Spirit will give glory to me, for she will take what is mine and reveal it to you. Everything that Abba God has belongs to me. This is why I said that the Spirit will take what is mine and reveal it to you.”
"Trinity Stories"
Based on John 3:1-17 (text is available below)
May 30, 2021
I’d like to begin by reading the first verse of our hymn of the day, as a prayer:
“Mothering God, you gave me birth
in the bright morning of this world.
Creator, source of ev'ry breath,
you are my rain, my wind, my sun.”
Today 80% of all refugees in our world are women or children. And 61% percent of refugee homes are headed by females. Many of their stories demonstrate unbelievable resilience. Refugee mothers face situations most of us can’t imagine—as they flee wars, death threats and assaults while acting as caregivers for their families.
About ten years ago, a woman named Semira was forced to flee persecution in Eritrea, a country in eastern Africa. Semira had to make the same heart-breaking decision that many refugee mothers face. She decided to leave her country and her two sons—eight-year-old Kedija and four-year-old Yonas—with their grandparents as she sought refuge. Five years later, her sons were also forced to flee with their uncle south to Ethiopia.*
As a result, Semira lost contact with them, plunging her into years of pain and uncertainty. In 2017, her sons and their uncle were abducted by smugglers—who, when found out that the boys’ mother had been resettled in Switzerland, demanded a ransom from her to set them free.
Unable to pay the ransom because she had no money, Semira sought help from the Swiss International Social Service. With their assistance and with the perseverance of a mother who never gives up, they searched every refugee camp in the area looking for them. Miraculously, the children were found, and flown to Switzerland for a joyful reunion with their mother.
Holding her sons tight in her arms in a busy airport, Semira tearfully said, “Despite being separated for more than eight years, I never lost hope of being reunited with my kids.”
Semira’s story reflects the undying determination of refugee mothers around the world. A story that also reflects the kind of persistent love that God our mother has for us beloved children. As we our Gospel lesson says, “God so loved the world.” A love that defines every aspect of God’s being.
Today we celebrate Holy Trinity Sunday. We Christians talk about the three “persons” of God. Originally, the word “person” comes from a Latin word for the mask that actors held in front of their faces during ancient plays. In a Greek drama, one actor might play many roles, each one signified by his mask or “persona.”
On this day, we are thinking about three roles played by God: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. For that trinitarian formula, I like to use terms that are not gender-specific: Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit. Others also use feminine names, Mother, Child and Holy Sophia. As reflected in the second verse of today’s hymn:
“Mothering Christ, you took my form,
offering me your food of light,
grain of life, and grape of love,
your very body for my peace.”
I believe the story of the Trinity can be found in many stories. The movie “Lars and the Real Girl” is a 2007 film in which Ryan Gosling plays Lars—a role for which he was nominated for a Golden Globe. While the movie is billed as a romantic comedy, some have reflected on the profound mental health implications of the film. About how it symbolizes the transformative power of community.
You’ve probably heard someone talk about how in some ancient cultures, when someone developed a mental illness, instead of being ostracized and sent away to a hospital, the person would be brought into the center of the tribe and received the attention of everyone. That’s the basis of the story of "Lars and the Real Girl."
In the film, Lars develops a delusion that a life-size female doll which he purchased online is his Brazilian girlfriend, Bianca. His brother Gus and his wife Karin are initially shocked by Lars’ bizarre behavior.
So they seek medical advice from their small-town doctor, who was also a psychologist. But instead of medicating Lars, Dr. Berman sees the delusion as a necessary vehicle for healing. She enlists Gus and Karin to participate with Lars in taking care of Bianca the doll. So, Karin loans her clothing to Bianca. And they take her in her wheelchair with them wherever they go.
As the movie progresses, the entire town gets involved. What’s so moving about the film is how each person is transformed by the compassionate roles they take on in support of Lars’ delusion. When Bianca passes away suddenly towards the end of the movie, even the pastor, Reverend Bock, holds a funeral that everyone attends.
The moral of the movie is about the healing power of community. Lars is suffering from an unknown trauma, for which his only way to cope is to create a relationship with a doll. Which was difficult for people to understand.
Just like Nicodemus in our Gospel lesson, who doesn’t understand Jesus’s strange talk about being born again and how an adult could possibly return to their mother’s womb.
What makes the Lar’s healing possible is that those around him becomes willing to believe the impossible. And walk beside Lars in his journey from isolation to human connection. From delusion to a new life. The story teaches a lesson about community that sometimes is easy to forget—that our true person is often defined by our relationships with others.
And that sometimes life leads us to roles we never thought we could handle. Roles like caregiver and parent, confidant and friend, counselor and pastor. Roles that can change each day and hour, depending on the individual and situation.
For example, I think of the various roles I have taken on just during the past week. Sometimes, I’ve been a pastor, like I am today. Sometimes, I’ve been an artist, like when I created a new iris painting on Monday, or sold a butterfly painting to my niece on Thursday. Sometimes, I’ve been a husband to Charlie, like when we’ve talked about his recuperation from surgery and plans for the future.
In reality, all of us do that every day. Depending on who we are with and what we’re doing, we play many roles in life. Child or parent, student or teacher, supervisor or co-worker, neighbor or business owner. And sometimes people are surprised when they see you take on an unexpected role. This understanding of different roles offers us a meaningful way to talk about the Trinity. Like us, God, sometimes changes their role to meet us where we are in our lives. Not so much a delusion, but sometimes a face we need to see, however possible. To support us as we change and develop as individuals and as a community. A role reflected in the third verse of today’s hymn:
“Mothering Spirit, nurt’ring one,
in arms of patience hold me close,
so that in faith I root and grow
until I flow'r, until I know.”
For the past two millennia, theologians have struggled with how to explain the concept of the Trinity. “One in three, and three in one” is how I learned it in confirmation class when I was young. Back in the fifth century, St. Patrick compared the Trinity to the shamrock, a native plant of Ireland that has three leaves. But instead of thinking of the Trinity as three parts of God, I like to think about them in relation to the role each plays at specific times during our lives.
Which reminds me of a poem by Meister Eckhart, a German theologian, philosopher and mystic who lived at the end of the 13th century. Eckhart has inspired modern theologians like Matthew Fox. Eckhart’s poem is called “The Dancing God” and reads as follows:
“Do you want to know what goes on in the core of the Trinity? I will tell you.
In the core of the Trinity, the Father laughs, and gives birth to the Son.
The Son laughs back at the Father, and gives birth to the Spirit.
The whole Trinity laughs, and gives birth to us.”
For some people, picturing the Trinity as a laughing group of friends might be a new way of seeing God. But I love the way the poem suggests their laughter is contagious—pulling us believers into their circle. For me, that imagery fits because God is by nature a social being. We see the persona of God portrayed in stories throughout the Bible.
We see that face of God embodied in the midst of a community like St. Mark’s. We see the heart of God displayed in the love of mothers and fathers for their children. We see the persons of the Holy Trinity revealed each day in creating new things within us and among us. Whatever our story might be. Amen.
---------------------------------
*https://unhcrcanada.medium.com/the-strength-of-a-mothers-love-extraordinary-stories-of-refugee-women-and-girls-caring-for-others-925033aefe9d
GOSPEL LESSON: John 3:1-17
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
“Mothering God, you gave me birth
in the bright morning of this world.
Creator, source of ev'ry breath,
you are my rain, my wind, my sun.”
Today 80% of all refugees in our world are women or children. And 61% percent of refugee homes are headed by females. Many of their stories demonstrate unbelievable resilience. Refugee mothers face situations most of us can’t imagine—as they flee wars, death threats and assaults while acting as caregivers for their families.
About ten years ago, a woman named Semira was forced to flee persecution in Eritrea, a country in eastern Africa. Semira had to make the same heart-breaking decision that many refugee mothers face. She decided to leave her country and her two sons—eight-year-old Kedija and four-year-old Yonas—with their grandparents as she sought refuge. Five years later, her sons were also forced to flee with their uncle south to Ethiopia.*
As a result, Semira lost contact with them, plunging her into years of pain and uncertainty. In 2017, her sons and their uncle were abducted by smugglers—who, when found out that the boys’ mother had been resettled in Switzerland, demanded a ransom from her to set them free.
Unable to pay the ransom because she had no money, Semira sought help from the Swiss International Social Service. With their assistance and with the perseverance of a mother who never gives up, they searched every refugee camp in the area looking for them. Miraculously, the children were found, and flown to Switzerland for a joyful reunion with their mother.
Holding her sons tight in her arms in a busy airport, Semira tearfully said, “Despite being separated for more than eight years, I never lost hope of being reunited with my kids.”
Semira’s story reflects the undying determination of refugee mothers around the world. A story that also reflects the kind of persistent love that God our mother has for us beloved children. As we our Gospel lesson says, “God so loved the world.” A love that defines every aspect of God’s being.
Today we celebrate Holy Trinity Sunday. We Christians talk about the three “persons” of God. Originally, the word “person” comes from a Latin word for the mask that actors held in front of their faces during ancient plays. In a Greek drama, one actor might play many roles, each one signified by his mask or “persona.”
On this day, we are thinking about three roles played by God: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. For that trinitarian formula, I like to use terms that are not gender-specific: Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit. Others also use feminine names, Mother, Child and Holy Sophia. As reflected in the second verse of today’s hymn:
“Mothering Christ, you took my form,
offering me your food of light,
grain of life, and grape of love,
your very body for my peace.”
I believe the story of the Trinity can be found in many stories. The movie “Lars and the Real Girl” is a 2007 film in which Ryan Gosling plays Lars—a role for which he was nominated for a Golden Globe. While the movie is billed as a romantic comedy, some have reflected on the profound mental health implications of the film. About how it symbolizes the transformative power of community.
You’ve probably heard someone talk about how in some ancient cultures, when someone developed a mental illness, instead of being ostracized and sent away to a hospital, the person would be brought into the center of the tribe and received the attention of everyone. That’s the basis of the story of "Lars and the Real Girl."
In the film, Lars develops a delusion that a life-size female doll which he purchased online is his Brazilian girlfriend, Bianca. His brother Gus and his wife Karin are initially shocked by Lars’ bizarre behavior.
So they seek medical advice from their small-town doctor, who was also a psychologist. But instead of medicating Lars, Dr. Berman sees the delusion as a necessary vehicle for healing. She enlists Gus and Karin to participate with Lars in taking care of Bianca the doll. So, Karin loans her clothing to Bianca. And they take her in her wheelchair with them wherever they go.
As the movie progresses, the entire town gets involved. What’s so moving about the film is how each person is transformed by the compassionate roles they take on in support of Lars’ delusion. When Bianca passes away suddenly towards the end of the movie, even the pastor, Reverend Bock, holds a funeral that everyone attends.
The moral of the movie is about the healing power of community. Lars is suffering from an unknown trauma, for which his only way to cope is to create a relationship with a doll. Which was difficult for people to understand.
Just like Nicodemus in our Gospel lesson, who doesn’t understand Jesus’s strange talk about being born again and how an adult could possibly return to their mother’s womb.
What makes the Lar’s healing possible is that those around him becomes willing to believe the impossible. And walk beside Lars in his journey from isolation to human connection. From delusion to a new life. The story teaches a lesson about community that sometimes is easy to forget—that our true person is often defined by our relationships with others.
And that sometimes life leads us to roles we never thought we could handle. Roles like caregiver and parent, confidant and friend, counselor and pastor. Roles that can change each day and hour, depending on the individual and situation.
For example, I think of the various roles I have taken on just during the past week. Sometimes, I’ve been a pastor, like I am today. Sometimes, I’ve been an artist, like when I created a new iris painting on Monday, or sold a butterfly painting to my niece on Thursday. Sometimes, I’ve been a husband to Charlie, like when we’ve talked about his recuperation from surgery and plans for the future.
In reality, all of us do that every day. Depending on who we are with and what we’re doing, we play many roles in life. Child or parent, student or teacher, supervisor or co-worker, neighbor or business owner. And sometimes people are surprised when they see you take on an unexpected role. This understanding of different roles offers us a meaningful way to talk about the Trinity. Like us, God, sometimes changes their role to meet us where we are in our lives. Not so much a delusion, but sometimes a face we need to see, however possible. To support us as we change and develop as individuals and as a community. A role reflected in the third verse of today’s hymn:
“Mothering Spirit, nurt’ring one,
in arms of patience hold me close,
so that in faith I root and grow
until I flow'r, until I know.”
For the past two millennia, theologians have struggled with how to explain the concept of the Trinity. “One in three, and three in one” is how I learned it in confirmation class when I was young. Back in the fifth century, St. Patrick compared the Trinity to the shamrock, a native plant of Ireland that has three leaves. But instead of thinking of the Trinity as three parts of God, I like to think about them in relation to the role each plays at specific times during our lives.
Which reminds me of a poem by Meister Eckhart, a German theologian, philosopher and mystic who lived at the end of the 13th century. Eckhart has inspired modern theologians like Matthew Fox. Eckhart’s poem is called “The Dancing God” and reads as follows:
“Do you want to know what goes on in the core of the Trinity? I will tell you.
In the core of the Trinity, the Father laughs, and gives birth to the Son.
The Son laughs back at the Father, and gives birth to the Spirit.
The whole Trinity laughs, and gives birth to us.”
For some people, picturing the Trinity as a laughing group of friends might be a new way of seeing God. But I love the way the poem suggests their laughter is contagious—pulling us believers into their circle. For me, that imagery fits because God is by nature a social being. We see the persona of God portrayed in stories throughout the Bible.
We see that face of God embodied in the midst of a community like St. Mark’s. We see the heart of God displayed in the love of mothers and fathers for their children. We see the persons of the Holy Trinity revealed each day in creating new things within us and among us. Whatever our story might be. Amen.
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*https://unhcrcanada.medium.com/the-strength-of-a-mothers-love-extraordinary-stories-of-refugee-women-and-girls-caring-for-others-925033aefe9d
GOSPEL LESSON: John 3:1-17
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”