Showing posts with label St. Augustine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Augustine. Show all posts

Sunday, June 12, 2022

The Trinity - Sunday Sermon

 



If you wanted to make up a religion for, say, profit, fun and a seat on a private jet you wouldn't come up with the Trinity; the doctrine's too hard, that God is a trinity of Persons in unity of substance. Not three gods or three aspects of god but one God who is three distinct Persons, each one of which is fully divine. The Athanasian Creed puts it thus:


We worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the Essence. For there is one Person of the Father; another of the Son; and another of the Holy Ghost.

 

It goes on to say that unless you believe this you will, without doubt, “perish everlastingly,” which sounds harsh and is doubtless why this Creed's hidden away at the back of the 1979 Prayer Book.  It's just not very polite, especially for modern Anglican sensibilities. But there it is and if we aspire to heaven we'd better worship God as He's revealed Himself to us, as triune. Can we make any sense of this or must we fall into reverent silence in the face of the mystery?

Both, surely, and perhaps the African Doctor St. Augustine comes to our aid. He teaches us that the act of love, human love, necessitates three things, a lover, the beloved and love itself. This, he believes, is analogous to the Trinity, where from all eternity the Father pours out his being to the Son in an act of perfect love. 

The Son returns the Father’s love and gives himself to the Father perfectly. So they are one in essence or substance, yet distinct as persons in their relationship one to another. And from their love, this timeless interplay of perfect being, proceeds the Spirit. The love of God personified, distinct by virtue of his procession.

Benedict XVI describes the relationship with admirable clarity: 


The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are one because God is love and love is an absolute life-giving force; the unity created by love is a unity greater than a purely physical unity. The Father gives everything to the Son; the Son receives everything from the Father with gratitude; and the Holy Spirit is the fruit of this mutual love of the Father and the Son.

 

Per B16, St. John sums it up in three words, "God is love." Reflect on that for more than a moment and silence, to say nothing of fear of the Lord ensues, "Remove your sandals for you are on sacred ground." But we can say this, God, in the Trinity, has revealed himself to us as an infinitely loving communion of persons. So what? So a lot. Consider some of the other options.

What if your higher power is the enigmatic "Life Force," a popular deity in San Francisco, Portland, and Austin, which sounds suspiciously like electricity, doubtless solar. But however green, electricity doesn't love you, it can't, it's not a person. Stick your finger in a light socket and find out.

Again, what if "that than which nothing greater can be conceived" by you is simply the universe, the world writ large. The good Texan soil, the trees, the sun and moon, the stars glittering in the night sky, galaxies cascading out into the icy void of deep space. Such grandeur and all good in itself but here's the thing, the atoms don't care when they're smashed together and obliterate a city. Lake Whitney doesn't shed a tear when you tragically fall off the boat and drown along with your guns. Again, this version of God doesn't love us, it can't, it's not a person. 

So what? So a lot. People become like the gods they worship and an unloving, impersonal god produces unloving disciples; followers of the Life Force become just that, all about force. You'll note that "we just want civil unions" moved to "bake the damn cake!" at warp speed.

The doctrine of the Trinity saves us from this tyranny and the despair which goes with it. God, the ultimate reality, the great I AM, is love and He loves us. He dies for us on the Cross, he reconciles us to the Father, He restores God’s image in us, He adopts us as sons as we rise reborn in the waters of the font, the Spirit anointed Sons of God, beloved by the Father, heirs in Christ of everlasting life.

What can we do but fall down in humble adoration, wonder and praise before the God who loves us and has revealed Himself to us as love, as He who is, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

God bless you all,

LSP

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Glitter Ash



Just when you thought Western religion couldn't get any gayer , along comes Glitter Ash. That's right, Glitter Ash, instead of the cis gendered, heteronormative oppression ash which churches typically use on Ash Wednesday. But don't take my word for it, here's Parity, describing the thinking behind Glitter Ash.

Ashes are a statement that death and suffering are real.Glitter is a sign of our hope, which does not despair.Glitter signals our promise to repent, to show up, to witness, to work.Glitter never gives up -- and neither do we.

Glitter signals our promise to repent. Unh hunh, sure, all the way to the nearest disco. Parity continues.

Glitter+Ash is an inherently queer sign of Christian belief, blending symbols of mortality and hope, of penance and celebration. Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, a season of repentance. During Lent, Christians look inward and take account in order to move forward with greater health. At this moment in history, glitter ashes will be a powerful reminder of St. Augustine’s teaching that we cannot despair because despair paralyzes, thwarting repentance and impeding the change that we are called to make.


Oh yeah, right, of course. Next time you see some dude wandering around wearing leather chaps and no trousers, with some glitter on his forehead, think of St. Augustine. And repentance, obviously.

Glitter+Ash exquisitely captures the relationship between death and new life. We do not live in fear of ash - of death - we place it on our foreheads for the world to see. 
How very beautiful. Glitter Ash is incredibly gay a symbol of resurrection and new life in the midst of death, as opposed to being an exercise in degenerate, narcissistic exhibitionism.




You can get your Glitter Ash here when it's back in stock.

Kyrie.

LSP

Friday, June 3, 2016

The Miracle of The Widow of Nain



There's been a momentary lull in the War on Weather, giving us all time to reflect on the miracle of the widow of Nain, which is the Gospel reading for Sunday. In it we find two processions.

One is a procession of death, led by the grieving widow who has lost her only son. The other is a procession of life, led by Christ. At the point of contact, Christ is moved with great compassion and love. "Weep not," he tells the woman, and in power summons the son's soul back to his body and restores him to life. 

The widow and her son are, of course, types or figures of ourselves and the Church who are met, loved and given life by Christ. I found this reflection helpful, here's the conclusion:


The story of the widow of Nain is a wonderful story. It reminds us that the Gospel, like the Christian life itself, is seamless and perfect. The demands made on us are no less than the demands of love and of faith. As the Apostle John said, God is indeed love. And He responds to us, to the Church, as we in faith and in love cry out to him. For ourselves, for each other. For the living; for the dead; for the entire world. We cry out for mercy and for love and always – always – God responds. It is for this – faith and love – that we will be held accountable at the dread judgment seat. Nothing else. Not buildings, not numbers, not visible success. Faith and love. This is our life in the Church, it is our life in Christ.


You can read it all here, and if you think, in a fit of brazen, stiff-necked, secularist nihilism that it's all a load of pious nonsense, consider the reverse of the qualities of faith and love and see how far they get you.

God bless,

LSP