Tuesday, 1 June 2021

Binding Satan

A sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church
6th June 2021
 
Michael binding Satan, William Blake, 1805

Mark 3.13-35
 
Listen to this sermon here:

Jesus, it seems, attracted all the wrong people!

They had been flocking to him from the far north and the far south,
            from the Jewish heartlands of Judea and Jerusalem
            and from the margins beyond the Jordan (3.8)
They had come seeking healing (3.10) and exorcism (3.11)
            They were the disenfranchised masses,
                        the poor, the unemployed
                        the displaced, the sick,
                                    and the unclean
 
And in today’s passage from Mark’s gospel
            we encounter Jesus the exorcist
                        casting demons out of people
            and causing a storm as he does so.
 
Now, I don’t know what images run through your mind
            when you hear the language of exorcism and exorcists?
Possibly you may think of the cult classic horror film The Exorcist
            from the early 1970s
Or maybe you think of the charismatic preacher on the God channel
            casting demons out of people left, right and centre
                        to the applause of an appreciative congregation?
 
There is no doubt that in many ways,
            those who consider ourselves
                        to be liberal minded and sensible Christians
            often find it much easier to stay away from stories of exorcism.
 
At best we find them mildly embarrassing,
            and at worst they are manipulative, abusive, and dangerous.
 
So what are we to do with the fact
            that exorcism was a central aspect of Jesus’ ministry?
 
Do we simply disregard these stories
            as pre-psychological myths?
 
Or is there some way in which we can encounter Jesus the exorcist
            in a meaningful way in our oh-so rational
                        and post-enlightenment world?
 
I have been greatly helped in my thinking through of these issues
            by the work of Ched Myers,
and I recommend his writing
            if you find the approach I’m taking this morning helpful.
            (This sermon draws considerably on Myers, ‘Say to This Mountain’, pp. 31-38)
 
So let’s take a look at what’s going on here in the text of Mark’s gospel.
 
Here we see Jesus in a struggle with unclean spirits,
            specifically over the power to ‘name’ him.
 
Though his disciples often appear confused about who he is
            the demonic forces he encounters know exactly,
and seem to believe that they can bring him under their control
            by announcing to the public who he is.
 
So Jesus is seen routinely forbidding
            unclean spirits from making him known (3.12)
 
At issue in Jesus’ confrontations with these unclean spirits
            is the question of who has the power to frame reality.
 
As George Orwell so vividly demonstrated in his dystopian novel 1984,
            the authority to name, or describe, reality unchallenged,
            becomes the power to frame reality
                        to create the reality that is being described.
 
The central characters Winston and Julia
            attempt to speak a different reality into being,
and discover to their cost that the Orwellian state
            cannot permit such alternative realities
            to be spoken into existence.
 
The same story is played out around the globe in our world today,
            as states find ways, both brutal and subtle,
                        of silencing dissenting voices;
            as they maintain their power
                        by speaking their own vision of the world into being.
 
The reality that is remembered
            is the reality that is spoken the strongest,
and the most effective spin always seems to carry the day.
 
In Jesus’ own time, the Roman propaganda machine
            worked hand in hand with the military regime
            to enforce the ‘Roman’ view of the world.
 
The Jewish state had largely capitulated to the Roman worldview,
            guarding with care their few hard-won concessions,
            such as the famous exemption from worshipping the emperor as a God.
 
So when Jesus started rocking the boat,
            challenging the authority of both the Roman overlords
                        and the Jewish political powers,
            he, like many a potential revolutionary before him,
                        needed to be named, dominated, and silenced.
 
According to Mark,
            Jesus’ practice of exorcism was first and foremost
            a practice of unmasking the truth of a situation.
 
And as such, exorcism: the naming of evil,
            and the consequent challenging of its power,
            remains fundamental to any movement of liberation
                        whether that be personal or political.
 
This is why fearless and independent  journalism matters so much,
            and it is why any aspiring dictator will always take control of the press.
 
If you have no-one naming the evil in the land,
            you have less power to do anything about it.
A conspiracy of silence is the forerunner to a conspiracy of capitulation.
 
The person who claims that there are no demons,
            and that exorcism is unnecessary,
has allowed themselves to be blinded and silenced
            by the very powers that Jesus sought to challenge.
 
In today’s passage, we find the stakes being raised
            in terms of Jesus’ confrontations with power structures
            that oppress and diminish humanity.
 
As Jesus returns home, he’s engulfed by the crowds
            who have been following him around.
 
As those who live in and around London,
            many of us will be no strangers to large crowds.
 
We know that on occasions being caught up in a crowd,
            particularly one made up of diverse and desperate people
            can be a terrifying experience.
 
Well, Jesus’ family start to fear for his safety and sanity,
            and try to get him to distance himself from the crowds
                        who are flocking to him.
 
To make matters worse, the scribes from Jerusalem
            are launching a counter-offensive,
as they are starting to realise that this upstart preacher from Nazareth
            is drawing to himself exactly the kind of people
            that revolutions are made of.
 
The composition of our passage this morning
            is what, in technical Biblical Studies language,
                        we call a ‘sandwich’.
            Actually, we also call it an ‘intercalation’,
                        but ‘sandwich’ will do for now
 
What this means is that Mark starts a story,
            which is the first piece of bread.
He then inserts the filling,
            which is a different story,
before topping it off with the second piece of bread
            by finishing the first story.
 
He does this in a number of places in his gospel,
            and it’s always an invitation for the reader
            to read the two stories together,
to see how they shed light on each other.
 
In this passage today, the two slices of bread
            are a story about Jesus’ family trying to get hold of him,
while the filling is a story about the Jerusalem scribes
            coming to ‘get’ him.
 
In these two strands,
            we find the two ancient pillars of social authority:
                        the clan and the state,
            working together to domesticate someone
                        who has started acting in ways
                        that are challenging to the status quo.
 
In the ancient Mediterranean world,
            the kinship, or family, system
rigidly determined a person’s personality and identity:
            It controlled everything from their job prospects,
                        to their social status.
 
We hear a lot of talk these days about social mobility,
            or the lack of it, in our society;
and politicians of every stripe are quick to claim that their ideology
            will allow children of humble origins
                        to climb to the top of society with ease.
 
And yet still we have a university system
            dominated at its upper levels by those
            whose parents were rich enough to pay for their private education.
 
with 65% of the Boris Johnson’s cabinet being privately educated,
            and half of them having attended either Oxford or Cambridge.
 
Despite the claimed best efforts of politicians,
            family background counts for a lot,
especially when that background is reinforced
            by a national ideology deeply permeated by a class ethos
            which is inherently conservative with a small c.
 
As Ed Miliband once memorably put it:
            ‘It’s harder to climb the ladder
                        when the rungs are further apart.’
 
So when someone comes along,
            as Jesus did in the first century,
            challenging the status quo,
family systems and state structures fall into an easy alliance
            to act together to preserve normality, and restrict mobility.
 
From the parent who tells their child
            not to get ideas above their station,
to the careers advisor
            who suggests jobs in line with perceived social status,
the barriers to mobility take shape
            both within and without a person’s family structure.
 
And sure enough, Jesus’ family sought to reign him in;
            no doubt, they claimed, for his own protection
            but of course also for the sake of their reputation.
 
It’s interesting to note that were doing this
            even before his clash with the scribal investigators,
but once it became clear that Jesus had attracted
            the wrong kind of attention from the authorities,
            his family redoubled their efforts to restrain him.
 
However, and perhaps contrary to what we might expect,
            in v.32 we find Jesus and the crowd
                        sitting together inside the home,
            while his family are gathered outside!
 
And as is always the case in Mark’s gospel,
            things like this don’t happen by accident.
 
He is showing us that Jesus understood full well
            that in order to weave an alternative social fabric,
            the most basic conventions and constraints of the family system
                        must be questioned;
            so when Jesus is told that his family are asking for him,
                        he replies ‘who are my mother and my brother?’ (3.32)
            before concluding that his true family
                        are ‘whoever does the will of God’ (3.35).
 
His biological family are outside,
            and those who follow him are now the insiders.
The power structure of the family home
            has been disrupted.
And it is clear that Jesus will not be defined
            by the expectations and conventions of his birth and family.
 
Meanwhile the official investigators from the capital
            start echoing the family’s accusations, if not their concern.
 
The family are saying to themselves, and to anyone else who will listen,
            that Jesus ‘has gone out of his mind’ (3.21);
whereas the scribes say something much more sinister,
            claiming ‘he is possessed’ (3.22)
 
Both the private sphere of the family,
            and the public sphere of the state,
are here collaborating to silence Jesus, to put him back in his box,
            and overall to maintain the status quo.
 
The scribes then upped the ante even further,
            by suggesting that Jesus is actually in the service
            of none other than Beelzebub, the ‘prince of demons’!
 
It is the predictable strategy of threatened political leaders the world over:
            Neutralise the opposition
                        by identifying them with the mythic arch-demon.
 
And it is a tactic we are all too familiar with in our world also.
 
George Orwell captures this wonderfully in his book 1984.
 
            In the world of 1984, the world is divided into three power blocks,
                        and at any given time two are at war with the third.
            It’s just that the ally and the enemy change places from time to time.
 
But the significant thing
            is that when they change places,
                        history is rewritten:
            - Today’s ally has always been the ally,
                        and today’s enemy has always been the enemy.
 
And those who threaten the current status quo
            are neutralised by being aligned with the enemy.
 
Whether it’s hunting for Red’s under the bed,
            or labelling conscientious objectors as Nazi sympathisers,
            or assuming that everyone who is non-white is a potential terrorist,
we still, in our society,
            have strong social systems to prevent social mobility
            between the advantaged and the disadvantaged.
 
And yet Jesus invited the misfit crowd
            into his home.
 
And his deviant practice of exorcism
            was part of this big picture
as he sought to free people from the demonic structures
            which distorted their humanity
            and kept them bound in their place.
 
And so the state and the clan collaborated
            in defence of the status quo
to label him either as a lunatic or a traitor.
 
Jesus masterfully turned the scribes words back upon them
            by suggesting that they were themselves the ones
            who were acting in the service of a satanic system,
                        which it becomes clear is the temple regime itself.
 
The dwelling place of God
            which should have been a place of liberation,
had become a tool of oppression,
            and as such had become itself satanic.
 
And it is in this context that Jesus tells his parable
            of the Strong Man
 
Mark 3:27  no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.
 
In this parable, Jesus makes his subversive intentions clear,
            likening his mission to that of the thief.
 
Jesus is making it clear that his ministry of exorcism,
            of overthrowing the demonic hold
                        that the systems of family and the state
                        have over people’s lives
            is him breaking into Satan’s house
                        tying him up,
                        and releasing those held there.
 
Of course, later in the gospel
            Jesus quite literally breaks into the house of Satan
when he enters the temple in Jerusalem
            to cast out the thieves who had taken residence there.
 
However unsettling this metaphor may seem,
            of the ministry of Jesus as a thief, breaking and entering,
the tradition of the coming of Jesus as being ‘like a thief in the night’
            was one of the most enduring in the early church.
            (Mt 24.43; 1 Thess 5.2, 4; 2 Pet 3.10; Rev 3.3, 16.15)
 
The answer to Jesus’ question
            of whether Satan can cast out Satan now becomes clear:
Jesus, the one falsely accused of acting on Satan’s behalf,
            intends to overthrow the strong man
                        of the Jewish Scribal establishment,
            which has become a satanic system
                        binding people in oppression.
 
As the prophet Isaiah says:
            ‘The captives of the strong man will be liberated,
            the prey of the tyrant will be liberated’ (Isa 49.25)
 
Jesus ends the debate with the scribes
            by issuing a blanket pardon
forgiving all people of the sins and blasphemies
            spoken and enacted whilst under the oppression
            of the satanic regime.
 
The only people excluded from this pardon
            are those who demonise acts of healing and justice.
 
Too many people have been paralysed by fear
            that they have committed the so-called ‘unforgiveable sin’,
and too many church leaders have used the threat of this
            to prop up their dominating ministries of oppression.
 
So what is the ‘unforgiveable sin’,
            what is the ‘sin against the Holy Spirit’ that Jesus speaks of?
 
Juan Luis Segundo says, in his book ‘Capitalism versus Socialism’, that
            ‘The real sin against the Holy Spirit
                        is [the refusal to joyfully recognise] some concrete liberation
            that is taking place before one’s very eyes’
 
Those who deny the liberating work of Jesus,
            who continue to dominate, oppress, exclude, distort, and demean,
are in fact seen to be working against the kingdom of God,
            and will discover that they have  placed themselves
            in opposition to all that Jesus stands for.
 
The social context reflected in Mark’s narrative
            may be alien in form from our own,
            but not in substance.
 
Our world is hardly free from systems of domination,
            and I would suggest that today the free market
            has become the strong man.
 
Adherence to its principles is necessary
            for any person, community, or nation
            that wishes to participate in the global economy.
 
The system includes the public and private sector,
            domestic bodies and international institutions
                        such as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund,
            commercial banks and pension funds,
                        advertising agencies and the media,
            stock markets and money movers.
 
This free-market strong man takes no prisoners
            and extracts a terrible price on those who fail him.
 
The declining Western economies of recent years
            have tasted just a small sample
of the reality faced by those in, for example, sub-Saharan Africa,
            where almost half the population lives in absolute poverty.
 
The strong man extracts his tribute from the earth,
            and his victims are both people and planet,
through the economic slavery of billions,
            the depletion of natural resources,
            and escalating environmental degradation.
 
The strong man rules almost every dimension of our daily life and culture,
            and nowhere is he more visible
                        than in the relentless and deliberate cultivation
                        of the desire for consumer goods.
 
Even when products are superfluous,
            wasteful, and destructive of human life,
we are told to buy, buy, buy.
 
Wealthy and poor alike
            are trapped in a vicious cycle
of increasing frustration
            as they search for meaning and identity
            in intrinsically meaningless objects.
 
There’s a wonderful line in the Lily Allen song ‘The Fear’
            in which she is describing a young woman’s desperate search
                        to construct meaning for her life
                        through acquiring money and possessions.
 
Lily Allen sings, with profound insight:
            “ I am a weapon of massive consumption,
                        and its not my fault
                        it’s how I’m programmed to function."
 
The strong man acts incessantly in favour of the rich,
            while the poor are told they are worthless
            unless they own what is just out of reach.
 
Cheap and exploitative labour from abroad
            feed unemployment and poverty back home,
as the vulnerable are used
            to make the vulnerable more vulnerable.
 
So, do we have the eyes to see the strong man?
            Or are we too much under his influence?
 
Do we have the courage to join Jesus in ‘binding’ him?
            Or are we cowed by his legitimacy and power?
 
Will we join Jesus in his great work of exorcism,
            as together we break into the house of the strong man,
            bind him, and plunder his treasure?
 
Do we desire to set the captives of our global house liberated?
            Or are we just… too… comfortable?

Tuesday, 25 May 2021

The Dance of the Trinity

A sermon for Trinity Sunday, 30th June 2021
Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church


Listen to this sermon here: 

Genesis 1.26-2:4a
 Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."
 27 So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
 28 God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."
 29 God said, "See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food.
 30 And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food." And it was so.
 31 God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.
2:1 Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude.
 2 And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done.
 3 So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.
 4 These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created.
 
2 Corinthians 13.11-13
 Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.
 12 Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you.
 13 The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

 
John Donne once famously claimed
            that no-one is an island;
and in a seventeenth century metaphorical precursor to the Brexit debate,
            went on to suggest that Europe is the less,
                        if even one clod of earth be washed away,
            let alone an island or promontory.
 
His famous sonnet concluded that any person’s death diminished him,
            because he is involved in humankind.
 
More recently, in the context of rebuilding relationships in South Africa
            in the wake of the abolition of apartheid,
Desmond Tutu spoke of the African concept of Ubuntu:
            the idea that we are all interconnected through our common humanity.
 
And every once in a while, in the course of our lives,
            there come along those defining moments,
            which bring home to us once again
                        the truth that life is not something
                        that can ever be truly lived in isolation.
 
            It is these defining moments
                        which remind us of the fact
                        that we are created to be in relationship
 
These defining moments tend to be times
            of great happiness, of great joy
 
Think about the birth of a new child…
            - something which, by it’s very nature,
            necessitates the involvement of at least three people:
                        There has to be a mother,
                        There has to be a child,
                        and there has to have been a father involved
                                    at least biologically speaking, somewhere along the line
 
Of course, normally the birth of a child
            involves far more than three people:
there are all the extended family,
            grandparents, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts
            - all of whose lives are affected by the new arrival.
 
And then there are all the friends of the family
            - a network which can spread far and wide,
            spanning many countries.
 
So many people with a stake in the birth of one new child,
            all concerned for the family’s wellbeing,
            all caught up in the gift of new life.
 
And what about a wedding?
            the marriage of two people
            - binding themselves to each other
                        to create a new relationship.
 
My own wedding was nearly three decades ago,
            but I can still remember the build-up to it
            as if it was only yesterday.
 
In theory, of course, a wedding can be reduced down
            to the couple, the witnesses, and the registrar,
But even at this minimal level
            it is in essence still a community event.
 
After all, two people making promises to each other
            on their own in the privacy of their own home
            is not actually a wedding.
 
However, casting my mind back,
            I seem to remember that our wedding
                        went rather to the opposite extreme
            - with so many different people wanting a stake in the special day.
 
Our respective (and respected) parents
            had very different ideas to both each other and to us
            about what the wedding should be like,
and the negotiations we had to enter into
            would have been a test for any professional diplomat.
 
So much so that, on occasions, we started to wonder
            whose wedding it really was?
 
But actually, I think the answer to that question is important,
            because a wedding is not solely the property of the couple.
 
A wedding is always a community event,
            with the newly married couple
            taking their place in society, in a new way.
 
And so births and weddings
            point us to a universal truth,
which is that that life can never be truly lived
            apart from relationships with others.
 
But of course, sometimes it’s the sadnesses in life
            which remind us of our need of one another.
 
This last year of pandemic has been a time when many have faced grief and loss,
            and have often had to do so in isolation from the communities of support
            which normally rally around at such times.
 
And it seems to me that there is no escaping it
            - life, in both good times and bad
            involves, demands, relationships with other people
                        if it is going to be life in all its fullness.
 
A life lived in perpetual isolation
            with no participation in relationship,
is a life which, in a significant way, never truly finds completion.
 
Of course, not everyone’s life path includes marriage,
            and not everyone has to have children.
 
But we do all need other people.
 
Simply by virtue of being human,
            of being who we are created to be,
we exist and define ourselves
            through relationship with, and in relation to, others.
 
The passage we read earlier from Genesis
            represents an Israelite attempt from the time of the Babylonian Exile,
at understanding the world,
            and its relationship with the God who made it.
 
Let’s listen again to how this creation story
            seeks to express the relationship between God and humanity:
 
    [26] Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…"
    [27] So God created humankind in his image,
        in the image of God he created them;
        male and female he created them.
 
The amazing thing about these verses
            is that God uses the self-referential plural:
God speaks of “us” and “our”, not ‘me’ and ‘my’.
 
And it is clear from this
            that the relational aspect of humanity
            - that part of us which needs another to be complete,
was seen by the Israelites
            as being a reflection of the relationship which exists
            within the very being of God.
 
And just as God was understood as existing in an eternal state of relationship,
            so too humanity was seen as having been created
            to exist in relationship.
 
And it is this ancient insight,
            that both God and humanity
            are relational in their very essence,
which finds its expression in the Christian doctrine of the Trinity.
 
The Old Testament has a number of other places,
            apart from the reference in Genesis which we’ve just looked at,
where it hints at the fact that the ancient Israelites
            understood their God as existing in relationship
            (Gen. 1:1,2,26; 3:22; 6:3; 11:6,7; 20:13; 48:15; Is. 6:8).
 
And this understanding found its way from the Hebrew Bible
                        into the Christian tradition,
            as the followers of Jesus
                        attempted to understand the implications
            of their experience of Jesus as God on earth,
                        and their experience of the Holy Spirit
                        as the power of God with them.
 
And so Christians speak of the Trinity
            - of God existing in three persons: Parent, Son, and Spirit.
we have an understanding of a Trinitarian God
            existing in eternal relationship.
 
Today is the day in the Christian year
            known as Trinity Sunday,
And it’s the day when we consider what it means
            to be the people of a God who, in very nature, exists in relationship.
 
Here, of course, we start to hit against the limits of human language,
            because we don’t have the right pronouns in English
            to speak of God in Trinity.
 
And just as the debates over he, his, her, and hers
            can be helped by using the plural to speak of the singular,
so I think it is also appropriate
            for us to speak of God as they and theirs,
            because God is one God, but they are also Trinity.
 
Contrary to popular belief
            the doctrine of the Trinity as we know it today
            is not actually found in the Bible:
 
It’s the product of many discussions in the early church -
            and scholars down the centuries to the present day
            have devoted much time and effort
                        to trying to find the language
            to express what it means
                        to have one God, in three persons,
 
A famous example of this ongoing attempt is that of St Patrick,
            who used the Shamrock
            to explain the Trinity to the Irish.
 
As with all analogies, it is an imperfect illustration,
            but his basic point was that the shamrock
            has one leaf split into three parts
            just as God is one God in three persons.
 
Whatever it’s inadequacies, this illustration provides the setting
            for a great comedy moment in the film Nuns on the Run.
 
The gangster characters played by Eric Idle and Robbie Coltrane
            find themselves dressed as nuns
            and hiding from the police in a convent school.
 
Robbie Coltrane’s character finds himself having to lead a class
            in which he is expected to explain the doctrine of the Trinity
                        to the students.
He stutters for a while, and then half-remembers the story of St Patrick
            which leads him to utter the immortal line:
“God is like a shamrock. Small, green, and split three ways”
 
And so, from the sublime to the ridiculous,
            theologians of varying abilities have sought
            to explain God in three persons.
 
But I don’t think this process of ongoing development and thought
            in seeking to understand the nature of God
            is anything to be concerned about.
 
After all, if God really is God
            then they are so far beyond our comprehension,
that even our most eloquent and scholarly attempts at describing them
            will only scratch the surface of all that could be said…
 
Now, it may be true that our understanding and words
                        are incomplete and inadequate,
            but nevertheless the task is not in vain.
 
The task of trying to understand and describe God
            as God is revealed to us,
is one of the great tasks of the Christian church
            because it shows us more of the God we worship and relate to.
 
And this task finds its beginnings in the New Testament,
            where we see the early Christians
trying to understand how it might be that the man Jesus
            could also be the almighty God.
 
How it might be that one who died a human death.
            could also be seated enthroned in the heavens?
 
How it might be that God in heaven
            is nevertheless present with people on earth,
            changing, transforming, renewing and empowering them
                        for world-changing acts…
 
These are the questions
            which drove the early stages of Trinitarian theology,
and they are still questions which require an answer today
            as we continue to experience God as Parent, Son and Spirit.
 
Paul Fiddes, the former Principal of Regent’s Park College in Oxford,
            has said that the doctrine of the Trinity
            is a concept which was invented to express an experience.
 
He suggests that talk about the Trinity is not speculative theologising,
            it is instead an attempt to put into words
            an experience of the living, loving, relational God.
 
Just as the early Israelites sought to express their experience
            of human and divine relationships
            in the creation story from Genesis 1,
 
so the Christian doctrine of the Trinity
            is an expression of the Christian experience of God
            as God is encountered as divine parent, incarnate son, and ever-present spirit.
 
At the end of 2 Corinthians,
            Paul gives us a glimpse of how,
                        in the middle of the first century,
                        some twenty five years after Jesus’ death and resurrection,
            he sought to put into words his experience of God.
 
He concludes his letter with the now-famous blessing:
‘The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God,
and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.’
 
And here we see that, for Paul,
            God’s Trinitarian nature is directly related
            to the experience of God in the life of the Christian believer.
 
When Paul speaks of Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit
            he directly relates these three persons
                        to three aspects of the human experience of God
                        grace, love, and fellowship.
 
It is God experienced through the Son, who lived, died and rose again,
            which speaks of the grace of God
                        reaching out to sinful humans
                        with the promise of forgiveness and new life.
 
It is God experienced as divine parent,
            which speaks of a love that is, from the beginning,
                        a love for the world that was created,
            and which transcends all time and activity.
 
And it is God experienced through the Holy Spirit
            which speaks of the ongoing presence of God with people,
                        binding them to one another and to God
                        in a fellowship of love and a communion of grace.
 
Paul may not have articulated the doctrine of the Trinity
            as the classical theologians understood it,
but his experience of the relational God
            at work in his own life, and in the lives of those in his congregations,
was such that his language pointed to God in three persons
            - a gracious, loving, communal God.
 
The Gospel of Matthew,
            written some years after Paul’s letter to the Corinthians,
provides us with another glimpse
            of how the early Christians
            sought to express their experience of God.
 
Let’s listen to it together now:
 
Matthew 28:16-20
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.
When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."
 
This passage is often referred to as “The Great Commission”
            because it contains the command to the disciples of Jesus
            that they should go to all the nations of the world,
                        inviting people into a relationship with God through Christ.
 
And right at the heart of this commission,
            we find a recognition that entry into the Christian faith
            involves an entry into a relationship with the God
                        who exists already in eternal relationship .
 
In many ways, this command to baptise new believers
            in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit
is Genesis 1 come full circle…
 
Where Genesis 1 shows a relational God
            creating a relational humanity
Here in Matthew we see a relational God
            inviting humanity back into the eternal divine relationship.
 
The human need for deep, meaningful relationships,
            which is part of who we are created to be,
is seen in Matthew as finding its ultimate fulfilment
            in the invitation that God issues
            for us to enter into the life of the Trinitarian God.
 
The practise of baptism by immersion
            speaks powerfully of this invitation:
Picture a baptism now in your mind’s eye…
 
As the person being baptised goes down into the water
            symbolically they are plunging down into the grave
 
Just as the Son went from the Father
            to be plunged into the bitterness and alienation of death,
            and to identify with mortal humanity through his death on the cross,,
so the believer, in baptism, identifies with the Son in death.
 
But then as the person comes up from the water
            they are being symbolically raised to new life in Christ,
and the hold of death on their life is seen to be broken,
            as the power of the resurrection of the Son is made known.
 
Then as they are able to start breathing again,
            having been under the water,
so the breath of the Spirit of God,
            opens up new life and possibilities,
turning the water of death into the water of life,
            so that the baptised person
            is seen to be born again of both water and Spirit.
 
In this way, the command in Matthew
            to baptise in the name of the Trinitarian God,
becomes an invitation from God to all people,
            inviting them to enter into the relationships that already exist
            within the very person of God.
 
And those who accept this invitation,
            who enter into relationship with the relational God,
Find themselves in a new life of eternal relationship.
 
We aren’t talking here about the banishing of normal human loneliness
            - of the kind experienced after the death of a loved one
                        or the ending of a relationship.
The pain of human separation
            remains a feature of human experience.
 
But what is banished, is the deep existential distance
            - the fear of being utterly alone in the universe.
 
Jesus says to his disciples, right at the end of the Gospel:
            “remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age”.
 
And so we have, here at the end of Matthew’s gospel,
            not just the great commission,
            but the great promise.
And it is on the promise that the commission hangs.
 
The promise is a promise of invitation
            it is an outstretched hand extended from within the Trinity,
inviting us to enter into the eternal relationship that exists within God.
 
Paul Fiddes uses the image of a divine dance,
            between the three persons of the Trinity,
            to express this invitation for us to join that dance..
 
And he says in his excellent book on the Trinity
‘In this dance the partners not only encircle each other and weave in and out between each other as in human dancing; in the divine dance, so intimate is the communion that they move in and through each other so that the pattern is all-inclusive… ‘
(Participating in God, 72)
 
And so we meet the God who exists as three in one
            as Parent, Son, and Spirit
            as creator, redeemer, and sustainer
            as love, grace, and communion
            as eternal relationship,
            as a divine dance of movement.
 
This God invites us to join the movement,
            to enter the dance
            to become part of the eternal divine relationship,
            and in doing so, to become truly human.