Sermon: The Rev. Leah
D. Schade
Reformation Lutheran Church, Media, PA
Holy Trinity Sunday, May 18, 2008
This is Holy Trinity Sunday. It is the one Sunday of the year when we
focus on this all-important doctrine of the Christian faith. The word
"trinity" is not found in the scriptures, but the readings today
indicate the biblical basis for this critical doctrine of the Christian
faith. This is also the one Sunday of the year when we profess the
Athanasian Creed. This Latin profession of faith offers a more expanded
comment on particular theological issues such as the dual nature of Christ's
divinity and humanity, as well as the doctrine of the Trinity.
In Confirmation class this year, we are just finishing up our unit about the
creeds. A creed, as they learned, is a statement of belief. And it’s
always one of the more challenging parts of the catechism to teach, because
there is a good deal of mystery and abstraction in the concepts of the
Trinity. I remember when I was a student in seminary, the part that most
confounded me was the idea in the Nicene Creed that male plus male =
male. You remember the line from the Nicene Creed: “We believe in
the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and
the Son. With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and
glorified.”
It troubled me that one on hand, Genesis tells us that God created male and
female in God’s image, so God must have some feminine aspects. Yet this
doctrine of the Trinity only includes men. I wondered, where is the other
half of humanity reflected in this doctrine that is so critical to my faith?
So I decided to do some research on this image of the Trinity - the triangle.
I learned some interesting facts. First of all, did you know that the
concept of a holy trinity and a sacred triangle did not originate with
Christianity? It is, of course, one of the basic geometrical forms, first
presented by the Greek mathematician Euclid in 300 BCE. But the triangle
as symbol for the divine is even more ancient.
You can see the triangle symbol in many cultures. In India, it represents
the Goddess Trimurti or Parashakti, giving rise to the three gods Brahma,
Vishnu and Shiva. (Walker, Symbols, p. 39). The yoni yantra has the
triangle placed upside down, thus symbolizing the feminine aspects of
creation, birth and motherhood. (Walker, Symbols, p. 44).
The Triangle was the symbol of
the Goddess in many ancient societies that predate Christianity. In fact,
Anatolian villages in the 7th millenium worshiped the Goddess which had three
aspects: Virgin, Mother, Crone (or Daughter, Mother, Grandmother).
“All three were the same individual just as each woman is one person even
though her life encompasses all three states or personae.” (Walker, Symbols, p.
39).
In the Greek language, the letter D is a triangle and was the first syllable in
the goddess Demeter’s name. Demeter was the goddess of the earth.
Thus the triangle symbolized the great Mother for ancient Greece. (Walker,
Symbols, p. 40).
This trinity of females also appeared as the three Fates, which show up in
Nordic, Greek and Roman mythology. They even make an appearance in
Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Remember the three weird sisters Macbeth
encounters who predict his downfall? They were based on the Saxon trinity
of the Fates.
And these are just a few examples. The Female Trinity has hundreds of
forms. She even makes an appearance in the Gospels in the form of Mary
who appears at all stages of Jesus’ life. She is Jesus’ Virgin
birth-giver, comes to him as his mother during his ministry, and is present at
the cross, thus the death-bringer. Virgin, mother, crone, all in one
woman.
So how did we get from an all-female trinity in ancient cultures to an all-male
trinity in Christianity? Well, in the ancient Middle east, the divine
trinity morphed into: Father-Mother-Child, with the Child as the savior
for humanity. For the Egyptians, as an example, the heaven-father Osiris
needed the power of the feminine, Isis, in order to create Horus, the savior
son. And for Gnostics, the Holy Spirit was that feminine aspect,
recognized as Sophia from Hebrew scripture passages such as the one we read
today in Proverbs. So you can see how this Father-Mother-Child motif is echoed
in our Trinitarian formula of Father-Son-Holy Spirit.
But some ancient philosophers, including Aristotle, began to teach that women
were inherently inferior to men. And the bible itself contains many
passages that depict women as spiritually deficient, including several writings
by Paul. By the time the creeds were written in the year 325 CE, the
feminine had all but disappeared from not only the formulations of the faith,
but from the practices as well. Women, who were prominent in Jesus’
ministry and were depicted in important religious leadership roles in early
Christian art, became relegated to second-class citizens, and eventually were
left out altogether in the Dark Ages of patriarchy.
Nevertheless, attempts to restore the feminine aspects of divinity eventually
surfaced. They coincided with the movement of feminism, which began with
women’s suffrage in the 1800’s and early 1900’s, concerning the right of women
to vote. About that same time, in the middle of the nineteenth century, the
French philosopher Auguste Comte attempted to revive the female trinity in his
vision of woman as mediator between man and God, 'This moral guardianship,'
Comte wrote, 'may assume three types -- the mother, the wife and daughter; . .
.Together they form the three modes of solidarity, or unity -- obedience, union
and protection -- as well as the three degrees of continuity between ages, by
uniting us with the past, the present and the future. (Smith, p. 401).
Comte had an alternative version of the trinity: ‘veneration, attachment
and benevolence.' (Smith, p. 401).
Now, this is all very interesting, some might say. But why are we even discussing alternatives to a creed that has been our tradition and served us quite well for nearly 2000 years? How dare we even speak of changing gender pronouns when talking about God and the Trinity? Aren’t we straying from our faith by opening these doctrines to such questioning?
Perhaps. Or perhaps we are, in fact, opening our faith to a whole segment of humanity that has felt cut off, excluded, and unwelcome by the Christian religion. Jesus gave the command to make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. His intent was not to close down the way to God, but to open the way to God for all people. And our mission statement here at Reformation tells us that we are to invite all people. Might our willingness to talk about God and the Trinity in expanded language be more inviting than a strict adherence to exclusionary patriarchal language?
Might it be helpful to think of God using both genders, as well as non-gender-specific language? In fact, we already do. We use the titles Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer to describe the Trinity not in terms of gender but in terms of the three sacred actions of the Divine. In this way, we can include all people, without giving preferential treatment to one gender over another. This is called using inclusive language, and it helps us to expand our concepts of God, opening us to new understandings of who God is and what God does.
I recently read an essay by a
Catholic priest (read: male) named Joe LaMadaleine, who described the way
inclusive language has changed his life and his ministry. He writes:
“Inclusive language calls the Trinity ‘the God who created us, the God who
redeemed us, and the God who continues to work through us to make us
holy.’ This image freed me from male-dominated imagery of the Trinity and
all the baggage that went along with it. Feminist theology has also
helped me see Trinity as a community of person - three beings sharing decisions
and responsibilities and operating out of a consensus model.
”This has had a direct effect on my priesthood and personhood. My need to
be in control has greatly diminished and my desire to work with a community has
greatly increased. My priesthood now puts me in the midst of a community
rather than at its head, and my life has become better because of it.”
(LaMadaleine, p. 45).
I’m not suggesting that we throw out the traditional Christian doctrine of the
Trinity. I’m simply inviting you to expand your images for God. You
can do whatever you’d like with that invitation. For some of you, the
idea of any feminine aspect of the trinity will feel offensive, heretical, and
just plain wrong. If that’s where you are, then when it comes time to say
the Athanasian Creed, say it with gusto, and ignore this image up here.
For others, using inclusive language and seeing alternative symbols for God
might feel strange at first, but then intriguing enough for you to begin
experimenting with new ways of imaging God. As we say that creed, your
eyes may flit between the page and what you see here.
And for still others, this new way of thinking about the Trinity will be like a
fresh wind blowing into a stale, dark, oppressive room. For you, thinking
of God in the Trinitarian Feminine form may be salvific, rescuing you from an
all-male God who seems offensive, heretical, and just plain wrong. When
we say that creed, you may choose to simply listen to others speak it while
keeping your eyes focused on this triangle.
Whatever your response is, it is okay. God has enough room to fit all
people and all images for the Divine. This is a big triangle. It’s bigger
than you and me. It’s bigger than this church. It’s bigger than all the
churches all over the world. It is, indeed, a mystery. A mystery that invites
you to come inside of it and experience the mysterium tremendum, the
tremendous, mysterious presence of God. Amen.
Sources:
LaMadeleine, Joe, “Caution! Inclusive Language May Change Your Life,” The
Wisdom of Daughters, edited by Reta Helteman Finger and Kari Sandhaas,
Innisfree Press, 2001
Smith, Homer W., Man and His Gods, Little, Brown and Company, Boston, 1952
Walker, Barbara G., The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets,
HarperSanFrancisco, 1983.
Walker, Barbara G., The Woman’s Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects,
HarperSanFrancisco, 1988.