In the name of the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
In a few moments, we’re going to
confess in the Athanasian Creed that the Father is incomprehensible, the Son is
incomprehensible, and the Holy Spirit is incomprehensible. When British author,
Dorothy Sayers, heard this, she quickly added the phrase “the whole thing is
incomprehensible.”
We’re living in a day and a time
where the doctrine of the holy Trinity is unpopular. One could understand why,
I suppose, because it is difficult thing to fully comprehend. That’s why we try
to explain it using metaphors, such as “God is like an egg.” But, actually,
that is both an incomplete and misleading metaphor. I can separate an egg into
shell, white, and yolk, discard the shell, toss the yolk, and eat only the
white but still have egg. If you try to separate the Triune Godhead, you no
longer have God. You have a mess which is unbiblical and unChristian.
I don’t know that any human being
is able to fully comprehend the mystery of one God in three persons, three
persons in one God, separate yet inseparable. The truth is that we don’t need
to understand everything about the Trinity perfectly, but we are called by God
to understand it as best we are able, using our intellect, our ability, and our
human reason. It’s important because God reveals this to us in Holy Scripture.
If God says it to us in His Word, we must believe it. If we believe it, then we
must also speak to defend it. This is called confessing the faith. The
Christian church not only confesses the faith every day individually and every
Sunday corporately, but especially on this holy Trinity Sunday when we confess
the triune God in the very precise and specific language of the Athanasian
Creed.
Some people claim this
understanding of God is too academic. God is no mere academic principal. Just
ask Isaiah. Isaiah had no such difficulty in understanding and expressing the
holy and Almighty God. He has a vision of God, and in the vision he sees the
fullness of Almighty God sitting on a throne in the holy temple, and the train
of his robe, a symbol of God’s divinity and His holiness, fills the entire
temple. God is surrounded by six-winged seraphim all swirling around the
throne, joining together and singing the incredible doxology, “Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God Almighty; the whole earth is full of your glory.” The voices are
so glorious and so powerful that it is as if an earthquake is happening,
shaking the very foundations of the temple, as smoke fills the Holy Place.
The scene is almost beyond human
comprehension. Artists have tried to capture this scene, our own minds try to imagine
what Isaiah saw. While we may not know this side of heaven exactly what it was
like, we have an inkling of the grandeur and can begin to appreciate the
majesty of the moment. Because in that moment, Isaiah is absolutely
overwhelmed.
And who wouldn’t be? This is God,
Yahweh himself, I am who I am. This is God, who spoke to Abraham, promising
that he would have a son, and through that son, the nations of the earth would
be blessed. This is God who spoke to Moses from the burning bush and who led Israel
from Egypt into the promised land, guiding Israel in a pillar of cloud by day
and fire by night. This is God whose very presence entering into the tabernacle
and then the Temple, dwelling among his people. And when God spoke, whether in
direct theophany as he did to Abraham and Moses, or through the mouths of his
prophets who declared, “Thus saith the Lord,” it was God: mighty, powerful, all
knowing, all powerful, present everywhere, both dwelling among and surrounding
his people with his presence.
So you can understand Isaiah’s
fear and terror when he sees the presence of God filled the temple. God is
holy. Isaiah is not. God is eternal. Isaiah is temporal. God is Creator. Isaiah
is creation. God is without beginning or end. Isaiah was born and some day he
would face death. God calls. Isaiah was the one called. God is sinless. Isaiah
is a sinful man who serves among sinful men and the holy, sinless power of God
cannot abide the presence of sin.
And, because of that, what could
have been a moment filled with sheer awe and joy at seeing the majesty of God, the
moment was instead filled with fear and terror. “Woe is me! I am a man of
unclean lips, and I dwell in the middle of people of unclean lips; for my eyes
have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.” He
had seen God. He was sinful. His countrymen were sinful. He would die for what
he witnessed.
“Woe is me, for I am a man of
unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips.” On this
Trinity Sunday, that sentence stands as a remarkably clear confession of our
own sins and the sins of those around us. Our lips are far from clean. Words of
prayer and praise are far from our mouths as we instead use God’s name as a
curse and slander our neighbor’s good reputation, all in the name of “truth” of
course. But it’s not just our lips. Our ears join in, as we listen to the
gossip around us, seeking out more and more that we can use against our
neighbors. Our hands take that which isn’t ours, and lash out in anger instead
of holding on to each other with mercy and compassion. Our feet fail to lead us
in the paths of righteousness and the places where God’s people gather for receiving
the gifts of God, choosing our own way instead. Our hearts are filled with
greed and anger instead of love, joy and peace. Our eyes look at what isn’t
ours to have, leading us to covet; our eyes look lustfully at others whom we
are not given to love, honor, and cherish; our eyes lie and deceive to us that
the fruit before us is good and pleasing and, besides, God doesn’t really mind
if we give it a little taste…
And, when we consider that our
lips are no better than Isaiah’s, nor are our hands, feet, eyes, and ears, or
hearts, we realize that we, too, deserve nothing but death for we are unclean
people, sinful people, who fall far short of the glory of God. “Woe is me.
Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.”
What is perhaps the most
remarkable part of Isaiah’s vision isn’t that he sees God, and witnesses the
angelic court of the King, and that he hears the choir sing. It’s not even that
Isaiah recognizes his situation standing before God. It’s that even before
Isaiah can ask for it, God shows mercy to Isaiah. In the mercy of Almighty God,
even as He sits on His glorious throne surrounded by winged seraphs, He acts.
The Lord sends one of His angels down to the temple and, picking up a burning
coal from the burning altar, touches Isaiah's mouth. Here, God does not
send fire in anger, but in His mercy, He reaches down and cleanses Isaiah's
mouth. It’s as though the coal cauterizes the sins from his tongue.
The coal comes from the altar.
The altar is the place where the sacrifices are made for the sins of the
people. As this is taking place in the Temple, and Isaiah sees the throne of
God, it is probable that this is a scene from the Holy of Holies, the
locatedness of God’s presence at the ark of the covenant. The lid of the ark is
called the mercy seat, the specific place where God promises to be among His
people. Every year, the high priest would collect the blood of a perfect sacrificed
lamb into a basin. Some blood would be sprinkled on the worshipping community
of Israel, but the rest would be poured out on the mercy seat of the ark while
the corpse of the lamb was consumed in fire.
The Old Testament sacrifice was a
foreshadowing of The Sacrifice which was to come. Every year, the Yom Kippur,
the Day of Atonement, sacrifice had to be repeated. Countless lambs were
slaughtered. Until Christ, the Lamb of God, is made the perfect, vicarious,
substitute sacrifice for the world. His
mouth speaks blessings, not curses – even to those who drove the nails and beat
Him mercilessly. His hands are held up in blessing, delivering His peace and
His joy to those who believe in His name. His feet walked the way of the cross,
carrying the sins of the world so that we do not suffer the eternal damnation
that our sins deserve. His ears listened with compassion to the cries of the
broken and repentant, offering mercy and forgiveness. And His blood is shed, a
perfect sacrifice, covering our sins from God’s view so that all He sees is His
beloved, redeemed people in Christ. And, today, so that you have no doubt that
your sins have been atoned for, He places onto your lips, not a burning coal, but
His very own Body and His very own Blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness
of those same lips.
Your lips, redeemed by Christ the
Crucified, today make the good confession of faith. Today’s world says, “you
have your beliefs and I have mine,” while preaching tolerance with the mantra “just
get along.” Regardless what popular opinion might be, as Christians we are not
free to just believe whatever we want or to confess or practice that which
denies the Word of God. The Christian church speaks boldly of the faith into
which we were baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Spirit: one God in three persons, made known to us through Jesus Christ, who
sent His spirit that we might believe. The Church confesses it. And we believe
it.
And, if you don’t fully
understand the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, don’t worry. That doesn’t make you
a less-than Christian. It is wonderfully, incredibly doctrine to help us
understand a wonderful, incredible God. I actually find comfort in not being
able to fully understand and explain God – if I could, what kind of God would
that be? It’s not about passing a test. It’s about knowing God, through Christ,
by the power of the Spirit, and knowing His love and mercy for us.
So, don’t worry about
comprehending it all. Instead, receive the gifts that the Triune God gives you
in Baptism, in absolution, in the Word, and in the Supper. And, with your
cleansed lips give thanks to God.
In the name of the Father and of
the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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