"The great African bishop, St. Augustine of Hippo, took nearly thirty years of his life to write the fifteen volumes entitled On the Trinity with constant updates and revisions. The story goes that once, as Augustine walked along the beach pondering the Holy Trinity, he came across a little boy digging a hole in the sand with a seashell. The boy then ran off to the ocean, filled the shell with water, and then rushed back to pour it into the hole. When Augustine asked the boy what he was doing, the child replied, "I'm trying to put the ocean into this hole." Then it occurred to the theologian that his attempt to comprehend the mystery of the Trinity was just as futile."
(Homily Service, pg.10, 6/3/07, The Liturgical Conference)
This is the only Sunday of the church year dedicated to a doctrine – a doctrine that emerged from the Gospels and evolved through the work of the early Church Fathers as they crafted the Nicene Creed. It was their way of explaining their experience of God. Though it appears to be graven in stone, since it is based upon experience, it is much more ephemeral, an understanding that is growing and changing with each new generation of Christians.
It accurately depicted my childhood experience of God. My earliest memories were of God as Father, as we said in the church those days. I prayed to God saying "Our Father…" but I really believed he was MY father. I told God about my day, confided my secrets and asked for stuff. My own father traveled a great deal in his job, so that I think God took over the role of present 'daddy.' But God was much more than that…instead of wishing upon a star I asked God for things…you know, a horse, the disappearance of my sister (maybe permanently), and for Christmas to come early. God was magical, all-powerful, and very present.
I next discovered Jesus – and I can still tell you today where he lives – in the stained glass window in the First (and only) Presbyterian Church in Granville, Ohio. According to the window he has long, wavy, blond hair, he is tall and strong with hands that are like an artist's with perfectly manicured nails. His skin is white as is his robe, his eyes are blue and, most important, like our Tiffany window on my right, those eyes looked right at me and only me, no matter where I sat or stood. Jesus became my friend, for didn't we sing over and over the children's song: "What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear…"
I was comfortable with God as parent and Jesus as friend. Then, in Confirmation Class, I met the Holy Ghost. I thank heaven that we now refer to this aspect of the Trinity as "The Holy Spirit." For me at age eleven ghosts were in Nancy Drew mysteries and had nothing to commend them. It wasn't till I was much older, until I had experienced and named that mysterious exchange between persons and in communities, that draws us together, helps us to be present for the other in times of trouble and enables us to sense the needs of the other. The Holy Spirit helped me to mature in the faith…to let go of my childhood images and to embrace a love that goes beyond all definition.
The doctrine of the Trinity infuses all we do as a church. We shall baptize children at both services today using either the ancient formula of "Father, Son and Holy Spirit" or the more modern "One, Holy and Undivided Trinity." We say this acclamation at the beginning of every Eucharist, when we bless homes and give thanksgiving for the birth of a child, when we anoint the sick, and give a final marital or union blessing. Finally we invoke the Trinity in prayers for the dying and in the Commendation at the Time of Death.
The Trinity is all about relationship and revelation. There is no hierarchy in the Trinity, but one in three and three in one, all bound in a totally self-less and self-giving love. It is a community of equals, growing, changing, becoming and evolving. It has been variously described as mystery – beyond, among, within; as identity, unity and freedom; and as dominion, communion, possession. If God is relational, then that community has no place for hierarchy, domination or stark individualism. That relationship is open, welcoming and available. Further, the Holy Spirit works in and through us and in the world as on-going revelation. It helps us to understand the changes in our world, both in knowledge and in social mores, in the light of God's love. This is the community we are called to be. Instead of explaining the Trinity, the Trinity explains us at our very best.
Richard of St. Victor wrote in his classic treatise on the Trinity:

"It is good to be loved, better to love in return, but best, and fullest, when love is so great that it must be shared, that one desires that a third share in that love, rejoices in the loved one's loving one another. Two persons loving one another can become totally self-involved, can become swallowed up in the other, can lose their identity in the union. By opening to another person, by deriving joy from the sharing, true Christian community can be achieved. This is the model of the Trinity."(Copied: )

Many of us can understand this. I remember driving to the hospital in labor with Geoff, my youngest. I announced that I had changed my mind, that I could never love another child the way I loved my little, blond Lairdy. How wrong I was! Love only increased – spilling over into all parts of my life.
For the church and this parish this means that even if we had the greatest outreach program in the world, and were a powerful voice for justice, without the unselfish love of the Trinity, we are not being who we are called to be. We are called to a radical love – one that is selfless, open, welcoming, joyous, strong, communal and visible. Each time we invoke the name of the Trinity, One God, we are to be reminded that that is our task. Once again, we were created in love, made for love and called to love. AMEN