Community, Coherence, and Comfort
Saint Paul’s Cathedral, San Diego
Trinity Sunday, Year C
June 3, 2007
Scott Richardson +
Community, Coherence, and Comfort
In the name of God; Creator, Christ, and Spirit. Amen.
Today is Trinity Sunday, that time in the church year when we once again underscore God’s revelation as the One who creates, redeems and inspires the whole creation. There’s a slightly redundant quality to this affirmation since we make it every week in our common recitation of the Nicene Creed. Nonetheless, we take an entire day to reinforce the point because it is our deepest truth. We acknowledge that we could know nothing of God unless God chose to be revealed and we thank God that, in love, the choice was made. God exercised unimaginable power in bringing the world into being. God offered unmerited peace in reconciling the world through Christ. God released unexpected joy through the coming of the Holy Spirit. What a gift.
Trinity Sunday is also a day when we at Saint Paul’s welcome new members into the fold. I’ve lately been thinking about why people come to church and, honoring today’s three-fold theme, I’d like to suggest this theory: people come seeking community, coherence, or comfort – or perhaps all three. I want to take a few minutes now and tell three vignettes about anonymous people who, in their own unique way, make the point.
Community: A single, middle-aged, extroverted woman realizes that most of her relationships are with people who don’t hold strong spiritual values or, if they do, never discuss them. She’s been to more parties than she can count, lives in one of the faster lanes, and slowly comes to admit that she isn’t fulfilled. She needs a different community: she longs to be with people who give of themselves, people who care more about other people than income or fashion, people who are inclusive, malleable, justice-oriented, and compassionate. She’s neither a radical nor a fundamentalist in her spiritual views and she deeply values historic traditions and roots. Most of all, she yearns to be with folks who value her, who understand she has holy attributes to offer, and who will help her help others. She discovers that at Saint Paul’s. Since becoming a member, she’s moved to the center of our life and serves in ministries of hospitality; greeting, receiving, inviting, making connections. What a gift.
Coherence: A young man grows up in a home where church participation isn’t a normal part of life. He initially has a negative impression of church-folks and then, as he matures, a growing curiosity. He recognizes the institutional and intellectual heft of the church and, beneath that, holds the age-old question about life – is this all there is? He graduates from college, attends law school, passes the bar, sets up practice, and realizes that he’s not entirely content. His uneasiness lasts for some time, years, in fact. He knows that something needs to change but doesn’t know what to do. He speaks to a lot of people about this but isn’t ready to commit. Things shift suddenly when he moves deeply into relationship and discovers he doesn’t have the inner resources or life-experience to support this union. He thinks back through his family history and realizes that his grandparents were the most successful couple he can identify and he further recalls that they were avid church-goers. He and his partner decide to give it a try – after a couple of false starts they arrive at Saint Paul’s and have been here for the past five years. Both are very active in our life and even more committed to Christ and to one another now. Life in Christ has given our friend other tools, as well – an increased ability to understand and interpret his world and a personal sense of identity, vocation, and mission. What a gift.
Comfort: A woman and two friends are eating lunch up the street. A baby near them begins to choke on a morsel; things look very scary for a moment before the crisis is handled. As they walk down Fifth Avenue they see the sign that indicates the church is open for visitors. Disturbed by the scene at the restaurant, they enter and are warmly greeted by one of our docents. The two friends engage the friendly docent in conversation but the woman in question, an artist, drifts off to look at the stained glass windows. She is, in her own words, “immediately cloaked by the Holy Spirit”, overwhelmed with a keen sense of God’s nearness and her father’s presence. Her father had passed away four months before; she was with him in his last days and cherished the chance to love and nurse him as he left this world. He was himself an active churchman and always encouraged her to find a spiritual community of her own. All of that comes flooding back as she stands in the empty church. She resolves to return.
She comes back on Sunday and finds people who share her values and gracefully allow her to be here on her own terms - no coercion, no hustle, no manipulation - just enough space to hold her feelings reverently and just enough love to know she’s safe. She makes an appointment with one of our clergy and tells her story; it’s received with respect and affection. Later, on Mother’s Day, the priest notes the tear in her eye and knows she’s feeling the loss of both her father and her mother (her mother passed away seven years ago). They have a fleeting pastoral conversation on the patio and, again, she understands she isn’t alone – she’s supported as she takes all the time she needs to grieve.
She comes back the next day for the noon Eucharist and weeps through the entire service. Embarrassed by this, she tries apologizing to the celebrant afterwards and is gently assured; “If you can’t cry here, where can you?” Life is now turning for her; she has found her way into several ministries and has come to deeply value her new friends and her renewed faith. She began here seeking comfort, she discovered community, and life now feels more coherent, more together, than it has in some time. What a gift.
I kicked off this homily by noting that our Triune God acts with power in bringing about the creation, brings peace in the reconciling love of Christ, and unleashes joy through the coming of the Holy Spirit. The church, when faithful, offers these same gifts to those who seek them. Key point: the stream of seekers is, in fact, a torrent, a mighty river. Saint Augustine once wrote, “Lord, you have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Our neighbors, whether they know it or not, are homesick for God (to steal a phrase from a wise monk). They long for community, they yearn for coherence, they dearly hope to both receive and offer comfort. And, good news – all things are possible for them because God has given us everything we need to fulfill their need: power to bring good things to life; peace in the mercy of Christ; joy in Spirit-led love. As we offer these treasures freely and faithfully other people take notice and want what we have. Be pleased to offer it, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Saint Paul’s Cathedral, San Diego
Trinity Sunday, Year C
June 3, 2007
Scott Richardson +