Community
Commentary
What's your favorite metaphor for the Trinity? We have probably all resorted to metaphors in order to teach the doctrine of Trinity. Many favor the three forms water takes -- liquid, ice, and steam. Others are fond of the three parts of an egg -- yoke, white, and shell. The mystery of the Trinity leaves us scrambling for metaphors, since that is the only way we can speak of the unspeakable.
For much the same reason, preaching Trinity Sunday is never easy, even when armed with the best of metaphors. One of the problems is that we preachers ask, "How is the Trinity relevant to Christian life today?" Beyond the important clarification of the nature of the God we worship, what difference does the doctrine of the Trinity make in the lives of lay people today? The course we have charted through these lessons for Trinity Sunday is premised on an interpretation of the meaning of the Trinity in some contemporary forms of theology. The Trinity implies that God is in God's own self a community. The Ultimate Reality of all existence is comprised of a peculiar community in which three are actually one.
Isaiah 6:1-8
Isaiah of Jerusalem provides only a background for beginning to think of God as a community of three constituting a single unity. Isaiah begins with the words, "The vision of Isaiah son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem," followed by a list of kings which dates the prophecy in the eighth century (1:1). We must wait until chapter 6 to read what most regard the call of Isaiah of Jerusalem to the prophetic office. The first eight verses of that call comprise our reading, omitting verses 9-13 in which Isaiah is told what he is to say to the people of Judah. Verses 1-8 include Isaiah's vision of the divine throne room (vv. 1-4), his preparation for service (vv. 5-7), and God's call and his response (v. 8).
While in the Temple, Isaiah saw a vision of the divine throne room. It is not accidental that the author dates this event "in the year that king Uzziah died," for this king's death was in all probability a disturbing and emotional event (ca. 738 B.C.E.). Uzziah had reigned in Judah for perhaps as many as sixty years and had distinguished himself as one of Judah's strongest monarchs. His death, therefore, may have sent shock waves through the nation, much as our nation was traumatized first by the death of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and then the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
On this memorable historical occasion, Isaiah "saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty." Some think that Isaiah's vision is fashioned around the gigantic throne, formed by the wings of two great cherubim, in the inner room of the Temple (see 1 Kings 6:22-29; 2 Kings 19:15; and Ezekiel 10:1-2). The divine garment is so large that it cannot be contained in the Temple room. In fact Isaiah is in the earthly Temple but his vision is of the heavenly throne room.
God is surrounded by angelic beings -- seraphs who were a mixture of human and animal features. They are the servants and the guardians of the throne, conceived much like other symbols of the deity in the eighth century. They cover their faces because even they cannot directly see God. The words of one seraph are a liturgical response, perhaps commonly used in the Temple. Its point is to emphasize the utter otherness of God. "Holy" meant to be set apart and to possess the qualities of God, so to exclaim that God is holy is to identify God as the source of all holiness. His glory or honor is worldwide but cannot be contained within the world. The Hebrew people did not make a sharp distinction between earth and heaven, so that the heavenly is within the world but not limited there. "Lord of hosts" is an ancient and puzzling title, which was probably a military picture of God surrounded by an army of servants. The quaking of the scene and the "smoke" accentuate the mystery and awe of the vision.
Isaiah's response to such a vision is understandable (v. 5) -- he declares "he's had it; he's done for." "I am lost" can also mean "I am silenced," and both meanings probably describe Isaiah's reaction to his vision. His first instinct is to confess his acute sense of sinfulness, which is both individual and societal. Like him, however, we too are amazed that a sinful human gains a glimpse of God (see Exodus 33:20). Jeremiah claimed he was too young to become God's agent (Jeremiah 1:4-10); Isaiah claims he is too sinful. However, God is not content with such excuses and in both cases overcomes the prophet's weakness. In the light of Isaiah's sin, his preparation for the call to prophecy entails being purified of his sin, and his lips are cleansed, because he must be capable of speaking God's message to the people. The cleansing comes in a way unprecedented in the Old Testament -- a hot coal touched to the lips, accompanied by the declaration of pardon. Note that both Isaiah's sin and his sense of guilt are removed as a prelude to his call. Confession of sin, forgiveness, and pardon are prerequisites for hearing and accepting God's call.
The call and Isaiah's acceptance of it are briefly related in verse 8. He is privileged to overhear a conversation in the divine throne room and the question, "Who will go for us?" which assumes a kind of heavenly council. Because he has been overwhelmed by the power of gracious forgiveness and cleansing, Isaiah eagerly volunteers for the mission. God immediately responds by informing Isaiah what he shall say and what response his message will receive (vv. 9-13).
This is a powerful story of the way in which God confronts, prepares, and calls agents. However, on this Trinity Sunday, we are interested in the fact that this primitive vision of God and the heavenly throne room depicts a community surrounding the Lord. God is not alone, but is protected by an army of guardians; God does not act alone, but consults others with the question, "Who will go for us?" It is not necessary to read the Trinity back into this story and to do so would distort the Hebraic conception of God. Yet it is the case that even here, eight centuries before the time of Christ, the picture of God included the Sovereign surrounded by others.
Romans 8:12-17
Paul adroitly manages to weave God, Christ, and Spirit into one paragraph concerning two ways of life, one confined to the physical and the other expanded by the Spirit. The reading is another fragment of chapter 8, which we discussed last Sunday when the focus was on verses 22-27. The theme of the whole first 30 verses of the chapter is how life in Spirit is different from life alienated from God.
Paul begins by claiming that we are not dependent on the "flesh" but on the "Spirit," which is the same contrast that runs through the previous eleven verses. He imagines two ways of conceiving life -- "according the flesh" and "according to the Spirit." These are two different foci in life, or two different ways of understanding ourselves, which Paul speaks of with the phrase "according to ... " (see 8:4). By the distinction, he means the difference between life totally directed toward that which is temporal and fragile, on the one hand, and toward that which is spiritual and lasting, on the other. What determines our lives -- we ourselves or the Spirit? (Note that "flesh" here doesn't mean simply the physical body.) For Paul the choice is really between life and death (v. 13).
Paul refers to the reason for our not being dependent on worldly things with the word "for" and now again uses that word to offer the reason why we live if we choose the way of Spirit (v. 14). To be "led by the Spirit" is the same as living as "children of God." Still another "for" follows: What kind of spirit have we received? Paul plays on the double meaning of the word "spirit." We receive "the Spirit of God" which is different from the "spirit of slavery." The spirit in the latter case is the mentality or self-understanding of a slave. God has given us a self-understanding of "adoption," the mentality of one who had been abandoned but is now taken in by a new parent. A slave lives in constant fear of his or her master, while an adopted child lives in the confidence of love and care.
So, we are able to call God "Father" or even "daddy" (that is, "Abba") only because of God's Spirit within us. The divine Spirit convinces ("witnesses to") our human spirits that we are related to God as children are related to a parent. Therefore, claiming our role as adopted children really isn't our own doing but is the work of the Spirit within us. To be children, furthermore, is to be the legitimate heirs of the parent (see Galatians 4:1-7). The logic is clear: We are children. Therefore we are heirs. If these are both true, then we are "joint heirs with Christ." Christ is God's Child and receives the divine inheritance, but we will one day share that inheritance with Christ. We share with Christ both his death and his resurrection, in that our suffering for Christ in this world and our eventual resurrections are part of what it means to be Christians.
God, the Father, the Spirit, and Christ, the Son. Paul weaves an argument which appeals to the relationship among what we call the three persons of the Trinity and, more specifically, appeals to how the three work as one "team." The Spirit enables us to name God our Parent as a result of our adoption, and then as children of God we become co-beneficiaries with Christ, sharing that special relationship God had with Christ. Not only does Paul depict the three persons of the Trinity as a community working together for our benefit, but he imagines an extended divine family into which we are brought by God's grace. Divine teamwork expands the divine family.
John 3:1-17
Probably no other New Testament document has been more influential in the formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity than the Gospel of John. In particular, this Gospel depicts the intimacy of the Father-Son relationship and details the relationship of the Spirit (the Paraclete) to Christ. (See the discussion of the Paraclete passages for last Sunday.) We are not surprised, therefore, to find a Gospel lesson from John for Trinity Sunday. This particular passage, however, seems to have been chosen because (like the passage from Romans 8) there is mention of all three persons of the Trinity in the course of these seventeen verses.
The passage is the well-known story of the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, one of those passages that is likely to be difficult for us to preach because we know it too well. It is puzzling in some ways, however, for a number of reasons. Not least of all is the way the conversation with Nicodemus gradually becomes a monologue, and then at verse 11 the speaker becomes plural ("we") only to shift back once again to the singular Jesus (v. 12). Notwithstanding the difficulties in the passage, we can detect several sections which are welded to one another with subtle and inconspicuous transitions. Verses 1-10 clearly have to do with Jesus and Nicodemus, but verses 11-15 seem relevant to Nicodemus but speak to a broader audience. With verse 16 Nicodemus seems to have been entirely left behind, and Jesus continues a long discourse about himself and his role in the world that continues through verse 21.
The Pharisee, Nicodemus, comes to Jesus apparently sincerely wanting to learn from him, and Nicodemus shows respect for Jesus, even calling him "Rabbi" and acknowledging that he must "come from God." This is no evil man, trying to trap and embarrass Jesus, but a seeker for the truth. He is, however, soon confused and must have been disappointed. Having heard Nicodemus' respectful address, Jesus immediately speaks to him with confusing words. He states the necessity to be "born again" (or "born from above") in order to become part of the kingdom of God. The word Jesus uses here can mean three different things -- again, from above, and from the beginning. Nicodemus is understandably confused when he assumes that Jesus is talking about a second physical birth, and his words make him look foolish.
Jesus responds to Nicodemus' misunderstanding with another statement about this new birth, namely, that it is being "born of water and the Spirit" (v. 5). He distinguishes between a physical birth and a birth of the Spirit, and then launches into a discourse about the wind. Again Jesus uses a word with more than one meaning, since the Greek word translated "wind" is actually the same word for spirit. As these two instances show, the fourth evangelist is fond of having Jesus speak ambiguously with words that constitute double entendres. Actually verse 8 is a tiny metaphor for the Spirit. The Spirit is like the wind that is free to blow where it wishes; and, like the wind, you may see evidence of the Spirit, but you never know where the Spirit comes from or where it goes. This, Jesus says, is what it is like to be born of the Spirit -- revitalized by a mysterious and invisible force.
Now poor Nicodemus can only scratch his head and ask, "How can these things be?" (v. 9). Jesus reprimands him a bit, for surely a learned teacher could understand what he has been saying. This is the last we hear of Nicodemus until later in the Gospel (7:45-52 and 19:38-42), and we never know for sure if he came to understand and believe in Jesus.
Next Jesus suddenly begins to speak in the first person plural ("we"), probably speaking on behalf of the Johannine Christian community. They share their experience but are met with rejection and disbelief. Jesus himself takes the microphone again in verse 12. If we witness out of real life experience, and people do not believe, how can we then share with them realities that transcend this world? That witness too will fail to win belief. Some argue that Jesus is speaking here about his conversation with Nicodemus and that the earthly things are the new birth and the birth by the Spirit.
The next verses (13-17) make a number of claims for who Jesus is and how he is related to God. First, he is the one who "descended from heaven" and will again ascend into heaven, for his home is beyond this world in another and divine realm. Second, Jesus is the "Son of Man," who will be "lifted up" much as Moses elevated a serpent to heal the people of snake bite (see Numbers 21:9 and our column for the Fourth Sunday in Lent in the March-April issue of Emphasis). "Lifted up" was used both for the enthronement of a king and for the crucifixion of a criminal. Jesus' double meaning is obvious: His crucifixion is his enthronement.
Third, in verses 15 and 16 Jesus claims that those who believe in him have "eternal life." In the first verse having "eternal life" is connected with his being "lifted up," but in verse 16 the promise arises from God's sending Jesus into the world. Note that Jesus says the believers "have" eternal life, not simply the promise of it. Eternal life in the fourth Gospel means the quality of life we have when we are related in love to God through Christ. Out of love God has supplied this authentic and meaningful life to humanity, and Jesus was "sent" into the "world" (the realm of unbelief and evil) just so we will not be condemned to meaningless existence. Verse 17 restates this by saying that Jesus has come to rescue the world and not to judge it. Jesus is then the savior not the judge.
Nicodemus is responsible for igniting this whole discourse. Jesus invites him to experience a new life through the Holy Spirit, then claims that he is God's special Son and that his Father sent him into the world to offer us life as God always intended it. The relationship among these three is again fascinating. It all begins with God's love of the creation. That love is expressed in the "Son" being sent into the world to offer eternal life. The Spirit moves among us to enable us to experience God's love and appropriate the gift of eternal life in something like a new birth. The three work in tandem, it appears, to accomplish one task -- the redemption of creation.
God's own self is a community of figures, working together for our welfare. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all God in one sense, yet each has an individual identity. Paul would remind us that not only is God community, but that we are invited into that community to be with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. If our God is actually community -- three persons in unity -- and if we are adopted as part of the extended family of God, then genuine human community reflects God's own being. In community we experience the divine, and our experiences of community inform us of who God is. Moreover, since God is community, it is within community that we are constantly led by the Spirit and nourished by Christ. The Trinity beckons us into the fellowship of the people of God.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 6:1-8
Who is Jesus Christ? According to our Gospel lesson, he is the Son of Man, who descended from heaven (John 3:13) to become God in human flesh. Jesus Christ is the incarnation of the God of whom we read in our text for today. And what a God he is! If we want to know who Jesus is, then we must understand him also in the light of the revelation given us in Isaiah 6:1-8.
This passage in Isaiah records the call of that prophet to his prophetic mission in 745 B.C. The great king of Judah, Uzziah, during whose reign Judah prospered militarily, agriculturally, and economically, has just died after suffering the illness of leprosy. Now Isaiah is granted the vision of who the real King over Judah and over all the nations is. Isaiah is granted a vision of the Lord of hosts.
The tone that dominates in Isaiah's vision is that of glory. Isaiah, like other prophets, is granted an entrance into the heavenly court or council of God (cf. Jeremiah 23:13; 1 Kings 22:19-23). There he actually sees God (cf. Exodus 24:10), sitting upon his heavenly throne and surrounded by his heavenly court. While it is generally acknowledged throughout the Bible that no man can see God and live (cf. Deuteronomy 5:26), Isaiah is nevertheless granted that awesome sight.
We, in our naivete, would immediately ask, "What did God look like?" But our text describes the indescribable in spatial terms. The throne of God is "high and lifted up," above all things in heaven and earth, and the Lord's overwhelming presence is pictured in terms of "filling." His royal robe "fills" the temple of heaven, and the smoke from the fire of his presence "fills" the place. Similarly, as is so often the case in connection with the appearance of God, there is thunder or noise that shakes the very pillars supporting the firmament (cf. Exodus 19:16; Ezekiel 1:24). God's indescribable being is set forth in terms of the effects of his presence.
Round about the Person of God Isaiah sees the Lord's heavenly courtiers, and he specifies among them the seraphim, the supernatural fiery beings in serpentine form (Isaiah 14:29; 30:6; Numbers 21:6-9), who attend the divine will. Each seraph has six wings. Two are used to cover the face, for even the heavenly beings cannot bear the sight of God's shining effulgence of glory. Two cover the "feet," a euphemism for genitals, and with two the seraph hovers in air, awaiting God's command. When the word is given, the heavenly seraphic messenger speeds off to do God's will. But as the seraphim hover in space, awaiting the Lord's command, they sing an antiphonal song with one another, back and forth across the vast reaches of the heavens. "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts (that is, of all beings in heaven and on earth); the whole earth is full of his glory."
God is glorious, and his glory fills the world. That refers not only to the great esteem and honor possessed by God, because the basic meaning of "glory" is "weight" -- God has great weight in the world, supreme influence. His very Person is also glorious, surrounded with light and shining with purity and goodness.
When Isaiah sees the light of the glory of God, then he recognizes the darkness of his own sin and guilt. It is the same with us, isn't it? When we see the goodness of God in Jesus Christ, we realize how shadowed in evil we are. And so the prophet cries out, "Woe is me!" That is, "I am going to die! Because I have sinned with my lips and in my heart, and I live with people who have sinned. Because the King my eyes have seen! (Such is the order of the Hebrew), and my sin deserves nothing but death before this King of pure glory!"
Such is the magnificence and awesomeness of the God who is incarnated in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yet, this God of Isaiah and of us is not only overwhelming in his glorious majesty. He is also overwhelming in his loving purpose. For at the command of the Lord, one of the seraphs takes a burning coal from the heavenly altar, and touches Isaiah's lips, and the prophet's sin and guilt are taken away. And that forgiveness, too, is incarnated in Jesus Christ our Lord. And so in our Epistle lesson for the morning, we have the amazing statement that God adopts us in Jesus Christ as his children and allows us, even us, to call him "Father," as Jesus did. The God of majesty stoops to our weakness and forgives our sin and removes our guilt, and takes us into his heavenly household.
But we must notice in our text that Isaiah is forgiven not just so he will feel good about himself. He is forgiven in order that he may carry out a task for God. Like one of the heavenly seraphim, Isaiah is made a servant of the Lord. God removes his sin and guilt, specifically cleansing his lips so he can be the Lord's prophetic spokesman. For the first time now, as a forgiven sinner, Isaiah can hear God speak. God addresses his heavenly court and asks who will carry out a mission for them. And Isaiah, made a new man, volunteers his service. "Here am I! Send me." Isaiah becomes a prophet to Judah, and all 39 chapters of his book preserve the account and words of that prophetic mission for us. (Isaiah 40-55 and 56-66 are considered to be from other prophets in the Isaianic school.)
We usually end our reading of this text with verse 8, and that is what the lectionary prescribes. As a result, we never read on to find out what Isaiah is to do. But the amazing thing is that he is told here at the beginning of his ministry to fail! "Go and preach to this people," he is told in so many words, "in order that their hearing of the Word of God and their disobedience of it may become even more unheeding and stubbornly sinful." Then they will deserve even more the judgment that the Lord of hosts is bringing upon Judah in the form of destruction from Assyria. God has determined to judge his people, and Isaiah is an instrument of that judgment. "Your prophesying won't convert anyone," Isaiah is told, "but it will carry out God's purpose." And Isaiah, hearing that awful assignment, cries out, "How long, O Lord?"
You and I are not prophets. But we worship the God of the prophet Isaiah in Jesus Christ. We are forgiven by that God through the work of Jesus Christ. And we are sent on the mission of the same God, to be servants of his purpose. Will we be successful? Popular? Our witness and our message accepted? Well, Jesus wasn't what we would call successful and popular as he hung on that cross, and certainly most did not receive his message. But we are his servants, called to be instruments of his purpose in our world. Guiding us always is the God of glorious majesty, glorious in purity, glorious in love, Lord over heaven and earth. And we can trust that God of glory to be with us, to sustain us, and to use our faithful labors finally for the fulfillment of his loving purpose for his world.
For much the same reason, preaching Trinity Sunday is never easy, even when armed with the best of metaphors. One of the problems is that we preachers ask, "How is the Trinity relevant to Christian life today?" Beyond the important clarification of the nature of the God we worship, what difference does the doctrine of the Trinity make in the lives of lay people today? The course we have charted through these lessons for Trinity Sunday is premised on an interpretation of the meaning of the Trinity in some contemporary forms of theology. The Trinity implies that God is in God's own self a community. The Ultimate Reality of all existence is comprised of a peculiar community in which three are actually one.
Isaiah 6:1-8
Isaiah of Jerusalem provides only a background for beginning to think of God as a community of three constituting a single unity. Isaiah begins with the words, "The vision of Isaiah son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem," followed by a list of kings which dates the prophecy in the eighth century (1:1). We must wait until chapter 6 to read what most regard the call of Isaiah of Jerusalem to the prophetic office. The first eight verses of that call comprise our reading, omitting verses 9-13 in which Isaiah is told what he is to say to the people of Judah. Verses 1-8 include Isaiah's vision of the divine throne room (vv. 1-4), his preparation for service (vv. 5-7), and God's call and his response (v. 8).
While in the Temple, Isaiah saw a vision of the divine throne room. It is not accidental that the author dates this event "in the year that king Uzziah died," for this king's death was in all probability a disturbing and emotional event (ca. 738 B.C.E.). Uzziah had reigned in Judah for perhaps as many as sixty years and had distinguished himself as one of Judah's strongest monarchs. His death, therefore, may have sent shock waves through the nation, much as our nation was traumatized first by the death of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and then the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
On this memorable historical occasion, Isaiah "saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty." Some think that Isaiah's vision is fashioned around the gigantic throne, formed by the wings of two great cherubim, in the inner room of the Temple (see 1 Kings 6:22-29; 2 Kings 19:15; and Ezekiel 10:1-2). The divine garment is so large that it cannot be contained in the Temple room. In fact Isaiah is in the earthly Temple but his vision is of the heavenly throne room.
God is surrounded by angelic beings -- seraphs who were a mixture of human and animal features. They are the servants and the guardians of the throne, conceived much like other symbols of the deity in the eighth century. They cover their faces because even they cannot directly see God. The words of one seraph are a liturgical response, perhaps commonly used in the Temple. Its point is to emphasize the utter otherness of God. "Holy" meant to be set apart and to possess the qualities of God, so to exclaim that God is holy is to identify God as the source of all holiness. His glory or honor is worldwide but cannot be contained within the world. The Hebrew people did not make a sharp distinction between earth and heaven, so that the heavenly is within the world but not limited there. "Lord of hosts" is an ancient and puzzling title, which was probably a military picture of God surrounded by an army of servants. The quaking of the scene and the "smoke" accentuate the mystery and awe of the vision.
Isaiah's response to such a vision is understandable (v. 5) -- he declares "he's had it; he's done for." "I am lost" can also mean "I am silenced," and both meanings probably describe Isaiah's reaction to his vision. His first instinct is to confess his acute sense of sinfulness, which is both individual and societal. Like him, however, we too are amazed that a sinful human gains a glimpse of God (see Exodus 33:20). Jeremiah claimed he was too young to become God's agent (Jeremiah 1:4-10); Isaiah claims he is too sinful. However, God is not content with such excuses and in both cases overcomes the prophet's weakness. In the light of Isaiah's sin, his preparation for the call to prophecy entails being purified of his sin, and his lips are cleansed, because he must be capable of speaking God's message to the people. The cleansing comes in a way unprecedented in the Old Testament -- a hot coal touched to the lips, accompanied by the declaration of pardon. Note that both Isaiah's sin and his sense of guilt are removed as a prelude to his call. Confession of sin, forgiveness, and pardon are prerequisites for hearing and accepting God's call.
The call and Isaiah's acceptance of it are briefly related in verse 8. He is privileged to overhear a conversation in the divine throne room and the question, "Who will go for us?" which assumes a kind of heavenly council. Because he has been overwhelmed by the power of gracious forgiveness and cleansing, Isaiah eagerly volunteers for the mission. God immediately responds by informing Isaiah what he shall say and what response his message will receive (vv. 9-13).
This is a powerful story of the way in which God confronts, prepares, and calls agents. However, on this Trinity Sunday, we are interested in the fact that this primitive vision of God and the heavenly throne room depicts a community surrounding the Lord. God is not alone, but is protected by an army of guardians; God does not act alone, but consults others with the question, "Who will go for us?" It is not necessary to read the Trinity back into this story and to do so would distort the Hebraic conception of God. Yet it is the case that even here, eight centuries before the time of Christ, the picture of God included the Sovereign surrounded by others.
Romans 8:12-17
Paul adroitly manages to weave God, Christ, and Spirit into one paragraph concerning two ways of life, one confined to the physical and the other expanded by the Spirit. The reading is another fragment of chapter 8, which we discussed last Sunday when the focus was on verses 22-27. The theme of the whole first 30 verses of the chapter is how life in Spirit is different from life alienated from God.
Paul begins by claiming that we are not dependent on the "flesh" but on the "Spirit," which is the same contrast that runs through the previous eleven verses. He imagines two ways of conceiving life -- "according the flesh" and "according to the Spirit." These are two different foci in life, or two different ways of understanding ourselves, which Paul speaks of with the phrase "according to ... " (see 8:4). By the distinction, he means the difference between life totally directed toward that which is temporal and fragile, on the one hand, and toward that which is spiritual and lasting, on the other. What determines our lives -- we ourselves or the Spirit? (Note that "flesh" here doesn't mean simply the physical body.) For Paul the choice is really between life and death (v. 13).
Paul refers to the reason for our not being dependent on worldly things with the word "for" and now again uses that word to offer the reason why we live if we choose the way of Spirit (v. 14). To be "led by the Spirit" is the same as living as "children of God." Still another "for" follows: What kind of spirit have we received? Paul plays on the double meaning of the word "spirit." We receive "the Spirit of God" which is different from the "spirit of slavery." The spirit in the latter case is the mentality or self-understanding of a slave. God has given us a self-understanding of "adoption," the mentality of one who had been abandoned but is now taken in by a new parent. A slave lives in constant fear of his or her master, while an adopted child lives in the confidence of love and care.
So, we are able to call God "Father" or even "daddy" (that is, "Abba") only because of God's Spirit within us. The divine Spirit convinces ("witnesses to") our human spirits that we are related to God as children are related to a parent. Therefore, claiming our role as adopted children really isn't our own doing but is the work of the Spirit within us. To be children, furthermore, is to be the legitimate heirs of the parent (see Galatians 4:1-7). The logic is clear: We are children. Therefore we are heirs. If these are both true, then we are "joint heirs with Christ." Christ is God's Child and receives the divine inheritance, but we will one day share that inheritance with Christ. We share with Christ both his death and his resurrection, in that our suffering for Christ in this world and our eventual resurrections are part of what it means to be Christians.
God, the Father, the Spirit, and Christ, the Son. Paul weaves an argument which appeals to the relationship among what we call the three persons of the Trinity and, more specifically, appeals to how the three work as one "team." The Spirit enables us to name God our Parent as a result of our adoption, and then as children of God we become co-beneficiaries with Christ, sharing that special relationship God had with Christ. Not only does Paul depict the three persons of the Trinity as a community working together for our benefit, but he imagines an extended divine family into which we are brought by God's grace. Divine teamwork expands the divine family.
John 3:1-17
Probably no other New Testament document has been more influential in the formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity than the Gospel of John. In particular, this Gospel depicts the intimacy of the Father-Son relationship and details the relationship of the Spirit (the Paraclete) to Christ. (See the discussion of the Paraclete passages for last Sunday.) We are not surprised, therefore, to find a Gospel lesson from John for Trinity Sunday. This particular passage, however, seems to have been chosen because (like the passage from Romans 8) there is mention of all three persons of the Trinity in the course of these seventeen verses.
The passage is the well-known story of the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, one of those passages that is likely to be difficult for us to preach because we know it too well. It is puzzling in some ways, however, for a number of reasons. Not least of all is the way the conversation with Nicodemus gradually becomes a monologue, and then at verse 11 the speaker becomes plural ("we") only to shift back once again to the singular Jesus (v. 12). Notwithstanding the difficulties in the passage, we can detect several sections which are welded to one another with subtle and inconspicuous transitions. Verses 1-10 clearly have to do with Jesus and Nicodemus, but verses 11-15 seem relevant to Nicodemus but speak to a broader audience. With verse 16 Nicodemus seems to have been entirely left behind, and Jesus continues a long discourse about himself and his role in the world that continues through verse 21.
The Pharisee, Nicodemus, comes to Jesus apparently sincerely wanting to learn from him, and Nicodemus shows respect for Jesus, even calling him "Rabbi" and acknowledging that he must "come from God." This is no evil man, trying to trap and embarrass Jesus, but a seeker for the truth. He is, however, soon confused and must have been disappointed. Having heard Nicodemus' respectful address, Jesus immediately speaks to him with confusing words. He states the necessity to be "born again" (or "born from above") in order to become part of the kingdom of God. The word Jesus uses here can mean three different things -- again, from above, and from the beginning. Nicodemus is understandably confused when he assumes that Jesus is talking about a second physical birth, and his words make him look foolish.
Jesus responds to Nicodemus' misunderstanding with another statement about this new birth, namely, that it is being "born of water and the Spirit" (v. 5). He distinguishes between a physical birth and a birth of the Spirit, and then launches into a discourse about the wind. Again Jesus uses a word with more than one meaning, since the Greek word translated "wind" is actually the same word for spirit. As these two instances show, the fourth evangelist is fond of having Jesus speak ambiguously with words that constitute double entendres. Actually verse 8 is a tiny metaphor for the Spirit. The Spirit is like the wind that is free to blow where it wishes; and, like the wind, you may see evidence of the Spirit, but you never know where the Spirit comes from or where it goes. This, Jesus says, is what it is like to be born of the Spirit -- revitalized by a mysterious and invisible force.
Now poor Nicodemus can only scratch his head and ask, "How can these things be?" (v. 9). Jesus reprimands him a bit, for surely a learned teacher could understand what he has been saying. This is the last we hear of Nicodemus until later in the Gospel (7:45-52 and 19:38-42), and we never know for sure if he came to understand and believe in Jesus.
Next Jesus suddenly begins to speak in the first person plural ("we"), probably speaking on behalf of the Johannine Christian community. They share their experience but are met with rejection and disbelief. Jesus himself takes the microphone again in verse 12. If we witness out of real life experience, and people do not believe, how can we then share with them realities that transcend this world? That witness too will fail to win belief. Some argue that Jesus is speaking here about his conversation with Nicodemus and that the earthly things are the new birth and the birth by the Spirit.
The next verses (13-17) make a number of claims for who Jesus is and how he is related to God. First, he is the one who "descended from heaven" and will again ascend into heaven, for his home is beyond this world in another and divine realm. Second, Jesus is the "Son of Man," who will be "lifted up" much as Moses elevated a serpent to heal the people of snake bite (see Numbers 21:9 and our column for the Fourth Sunday in Lent in the March-April issue of Emphasis). "Lifted up" was used both for the enthronement of a king and for the crucifixion of a criminal. Jesus' double meaning is obvious: His crucifixion is his enthronement.
Third, in verses 15 and 16 Jesus claims that those who believe in him have "eternal life." In the first verse having "eternal life" is connected with his being "lifted up," but in verse 16 the promise arises from God's sending Jesus into the world. Note that Jesus says the believers "have" eternal life, not simply the promise of it. Eternal life in the fourth Gospel means the quality of life we have when we are related in love to God through Christ. Out of love God has supplied this authentic and meaningful life to humanity, and Jesus was "sent" into the "world" (the realm of unbelief and evil) just so we will not be condemned to meaningless existence. Verse 17 restates this by saying that Jesus has come to rescue the world and not to judge it. Jesus is then the savior not the judge.
Nicodemus is responsible for igniting this whole discourse. Jesus invites him to experience a new life through the Holy Spirit, then claims that he is God's special Son and that his Father sent him into the world to offer us life as God always intended it. The relationship among these three is again fascinating. It all begins with God's love of the creation. That love is expressed in the "Son" being sent into the world to offer eternal life. The Spirit moves among us to enable us to experience God's love and appropriate the gift of eternal life in something like a new birth. The three work in tandem, it appears, to accomplish one task -- the redemption of creation.
God's own self is a community of figures, working together for our welfare. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all God in one sense, yet each has an individual identity. Paul would remind us that not only is God community, but that we are invited into that community to be with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. If our God is actually community -- three persons in unity -- and if we are adopted as part of the extended family of God, then genuine human community reflects God's own being. In community we experience the divine, and our experiences of community inform us of who God is. Moreover, since God is community, it is within community that we are constantly led by the Spirit and nourished by Christ. The Trinity beckons us into the fellowship of the people of God.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 6:1-8
Who is Jesus Christ? According to our Gospel lesson, he is the Son of Man, who descended from heaven (John 3:13) to become God in human flesh. Jesus Christ is the incarnation of the God of whom we read in our text for today. And what a God he is! If we want to know who Jesus is, then we must understand him also in the light of the revelation given us in Isaiah 6:1-8.
This passage in Isaiah records the call of that prophet to his prophetic mission in 745 B.C. The great king of Judah, Uzziah, during whose reign Judah prospered militarily, agriculturally, and economically, has just died after suffering the illness of leprosy. Now Isaiah is granted the vision of who the real King over Judah and over all the nations is. Isaiah is granted a vision of the Lord of hosts.
The tone that dominates in Isaiah's vision is that of glory. Isaiah, like other prophets, is granted an entrance into the heavenly court or council of God (cf. Jeremiah 23:13; 1 Kings 22:19-23). There he actually sees God (cf. Exodus 24:10), sitting upon his heavenly throne and surrounded by his heavenly court. While it is generally acknowledged throughout the Bible that no man can see God and live (cf. Deuteronomy 5:26), Isaiah is nevertheless granted that awesome sight.
We, in our naivete, would immediately ask, "What did God look like?" But our text describes the indescribable in spatial terms. The throne of God is "high and lifted up," above all things in heaven and earth, and the Lord's overwhelming presence is pictured in terms of "filling." His royal robe "fills" the temple of heaven, and the smoke from the fire of his presence "fills" the place. Similarly, as is so often the case in connection with the appearance of God, there is thunder or noise that shakes the very pillars supporting the firmament (cf. Exodus 19:16; Ezekiel 1:24). God's indescribable being is set forth in terms of the effects of his presence.
Round about the Person of God Isaiah sees the Lord's heavenly courtiers, and he specifies among them the seraphim, the supernatural fiery beings in serpentine form (Isaiah 14:29; 30:6; Numbers 21:6-9), who attend the divine will. Each seraph has six wings. Two are used to cover the face, for even the heavenly beings cannot bear the sight of God's shining effulgence of glory. Two cover the "feet," a euphemism for genitals, and with two the seraph hovers in air, awaiting God's command. When the word is given, the heavenly seraphic messenger speeds off to do God's will. But as the seraphim hover in space, awaiting the Lord's command, they sing an antiphonal song with one another, back and forth across the vast reaches of the heavens. "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts (that is, of all beings in heaven and on earth); the whole earth is full of his glory."
God is glorious, and his glory fills the world. That refers not only to the great esteem and honor possessed by God, because the basic meaning of "glory" is "weight" -- God has great weight in the world, supreme influence. His very Person is also glorious, surrounded with light and shining with purity and goodness.
When Isaiah sees the light of the glory of God, then he recognizes the darkness of his own sin and guilt. It is the same with us, isn't it? When we see the goodness of God in Jesus Christ, we realize how shadowed in evil we are. And so the prophet cries out, "Woe is me!" That is, "I am going to die! Because I have sinned with my lips and in my heart, and I live with people who have sinned. Because the King my eyes have seen! (Such is the order of the Hebrew), and my sin deserves nothing but death before this King of pure glory!"
Such is the magnificence and awesomeness of the God who is incarnated in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yet, this God of Isaiah and of us is not only overwhelming in his glorious majesty. He is also overwhelming in his loving purpose. For at the command of the Lord, one of the seraphs takes a burning coal from the heavenly altar, and touches Isaiah's lips, and the prophet's sin and guilt are taken away. And that forgiveness, too, is incarnated in Jesus Christ our Lord. And so in our Epistle lesson for the morning, we have the amazing statement that God adopts us in Jesus Christ as his children and allows us, even us, to call him "Father," as Jesus did. The God of majesty stoops to our weakness and forgives our sin and removes our guilt, and takes us into his heavenly household.
But we must notice in our text that Isaiah is forgiven not just so he will feel good about himself. He is forgiven in order that he may carry out a task for God. Like one of the heavenly seraphim, Isaiah is made a servant of the Lord. God removes his sin and guilt, specifically cleansing his lips so he can be the Lord's prophetic spokesman. For the first time now, as a forgiven sinner, Isaiah can hear God speak. God addresses his heavenly court and asks who will carry out a mission for them. And Isaiah, made a new man, volunteers his service. "Here am I! Send me." Isaiah becomes a prophet to Judah, and all 39 chapters of his book preserve the account and words of that prophetic mission for us. (Isaiah 40-55 and 56-66 are considered to be from other prophets in the Isaianic school.)
We usually end our reading of this text with verse 8, and that is what the lectionary prescribes. As a result, we never read on to find out what Isaiah is to do. But the amazing thing is that he is told here at the beginning of his ministry to fail! "Go and preach to this people," he is told in so many words, "in order that their hearing of the Word of God and their disobedience of it may become even more unheeding and stubbornly sinful." Then they will deserve even more the judgment that the Lord of hosts is bringing upon Judah in the form of destruction from Assyria. God has determined to judge his people, and Isaiah is an instrument of that judgment. "Your prophesying won't convert anyone," Isaiah is told, "but it will carry out God's purpose." And Isaiah, hearing that awful assignment, cries out, "How long, O Lord?"
You and I are not prophets. But we worship the God of the prophet Isaiah in Jesus Christ. We are forgiven by that God through the work of Jesus Christ. And we are sent on the mission of the same God, to be servants of his purpose. Will we be successful? Popular? Our witness and our message accepted? Well, Jesus wasn't what we would call successful and popular as he hung on that cross, and certainly most did not receive his message. But we are his servants, called to be instruments of his purpose in our world. Guiding us always is the God of glorious majesty, glorious in purity, glorious in love, Lord over heaven and earth. And we can trust that God of glory to be with us, to sustain us, and to use our faithful labors finally for the fulfillment of his loving purpose for his world.
