jesus – A Space for Grace

Sermon for TRINITY SUNDAY 2026

Sermon: 31^st May 2026 St Andrew’s Indooroopilly

Theme: Trinity Sunday

Prayer:

O Saviour Christ, in whose way of love lies the secret of all life and the hope of all people. We pray for quiet courage to match this hour. We did not choose to be born or to live in such an age but let its problems challenge us, its discoveries exhilarate us, its injustices anger us, its possibilities inspire us, and its vigour renew us. For your Kingdom’s sake. Amen

Welcome to Trinity Sunday. Welcome also to my first preaching opportunity at St Andrew’s after my retirement due to ill-health. Now, I’m going to do something I have never done before in thirty years of preaching and that is not refer to the readings set for us this morning. I’m going to focus on the question why we worship God as Trinity. If you want a good analysis of the readings, you could look up Professor Andrew McGoveran’s article on these readings or even ask our resident Scripture Scholar Reverend Canon Dr Marion Free for a reflection. But I’m going to talk about the Trinity.

Even at the best of times, it’s hard to get excited about Trinity Sunday. Most Christian festivals honour events that are fun to describe and dramatise. The angel Gabriel’s appearance to Mary, Jesus’s transfiguration atop a mountain, his birth and resurrection, the arrival of the Holy Spirit last week at Pentecost. But Trinity Sunday is the only Sunday in the liturgical Christian year that invites us to celebrate an idea. A theological abstraction that’s beyond our understanding. One in three? Three in one? Huh?

Needless to say, we are not living in the best of times. All over the world, catastrophic headlines darken our days. Many of us are tired, heartsick, anxious, and overwhelmed. Some of us are ill. Some of us are mourning loved ones who have died. Some of us are facing economic uncertainty or ruin. Some of us are devastated by the divisions and inequalities that infect our communities. Some of us are angry about what’s happening in our national and global politics. Some of us are barely hanging onto belief in one God. Now the Church wants us to contemplate three? Why?

If you’re like me and been in the church a while, you’ve been at the receiving end (or the giving end) of many well-meaning but inadequate attempts to explain the Triune God: “Oh, well, the Trinity is sort of like water! You know, liquid, vapor, and ice? Three phases, one entity? The Trinity is like that!” Or “Think of a tree! The roots, the trunk, and the branches. Three parts, one tree. Or an egg. The shell, the egg white, and the yolk. Or a triangle. Or St. Patrick’s shamrock: three petals, one clover. Or (courtesy of John Wesley), three candles in a room, one light by which to read.

All of these analogies — beautiful though they are — fall short, and none of them address the deeper question: Why should we care? What difference does the three-in-one make? Fine, God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. So what? Given the state our world is in right now, why should the Christian doctrine of the Trinity matter?

Well, maybe for starters, we need the Trinity to teach us a lesson in humility. In this divided and polarised moment, when religion is so often used as a weapon of war, it’s easy to imagine that we have the monopoly on the divine.

It’s easy to grow smug and complacent, and to assume that our articulation of faith, our liturgy, our denomination, and our worship practices capture the best version of who God is and what God desires. One thing the Trinity does by its very complexity is challenge this assumption. The truth of God will always exceed us. The truth of God will always be more than our tiny, easily overwhelmed minds can bear. The truth of God will always confront, convict, and remake us, even as it soothes and affirms us. This is a good thing. It is good and right and necessary to remember that we are created in God’s image. We are not at liberty to reshape God into ours.

So, we begin our celebration of Trinity Sunday with the humble acknowledgement that we are out of our depth. We begin in fear and trembling, rejecting our own arrogance, and recognising that when it comes to comprehending God, we are wholly dependent on divine revelation.

But then what? Why else does the Trinity matter? Perhaps it matters right now because what we believe about the nature of God — in whose image we are created, is a matter of life and death. How can we know who we are, and what we were made for, and who we should be to each other, unless we know who God is? If the desire and delight of God is that we live into the fullness of the Imago Dei, the image of God, then we must commit ourselves to studying and experiencing God’s nature in all of its fullness and complexity.

So, is there anything we can say with assurance, or honour with abandon on this Trinity Sunday? Franciscan priest and theologian Richard Rohr argues that caring about the Trinity requires orienting ourselves in a new way: “Don’t start with the One and try to make it into Three,” he writes in his book,

The Divine Dance. “Start with the Three and see that this is the deepest nature of the One.”

Start with the Three and see that this is the deepest nature of the One. What might it look like to follow Rohr’s advice? What will we discover about God’s character, God’s personality, and God’s priorities, if we see Threeness as the ground and essence of God’s being? Here are a few possibilities:

First, we’ll see that God is dynamic. If God is triune, God does not exist in a monolithic state. Rather, God’s self is fluid. God moves.

Or to use Rohr’s language again: God flows, and God is flow. God dances, and God is dance. The first Greek word I learned at theological college over 30 years ago was Perichoresis. It means the intimate ever-flowing dance of the three to form one. Regardless of whether we’ll learn to tolerate the discomfort of divine fluidity or not, we worship a God who is always on the move, always spilling over, always organic, always a surprise. God’s coherence doesn’t require God to be rigid.

Why does this matter for us? I think it matters because we don’t like change, and we are often reluctant to embrace what is new, what is unfamiliar, what is uncomfortable. But if God’s nature is flow and movement and dance, then we need to find the courage to enter into that same flow, movement, and dance. We must be willing to move.

Next, we’ll see that God is diverse. If God exists in three persons, then each person has their own way of embodying and expressing goodness, beauty, love, and righteousness. As Rohr puts it, the Trinity affirms that there is an intrinsic plurality to goodness. “Goodness isn’t sameness,” he writes, “Goodness, to be goodness, needs contrast and tension, not perfect uniformity.” If God can incarnate goodness through contrast and tension, then it’s worth asking why we can’t. Or won’t. Why do we fear difference so much when difference lies at the very heart of God’s nature?

Given the divisions tearing the world apart at this very moment, I can’t imagine a more relevant characteristic to ponder than God’s innate diversity.

As churches, communities, and countries, we will not survive unless we learn how to live gracefully and peaceably with difference. We will not heal unless we’re honest about our fears, penitent about our histories, and unrelenting in our longing for God’s diverse nature to be realised in its fullness among us.

If God is interactive at God’s very heart — if Three is the deepest nature of the One — then what are we doing when we isolate ourselves from each other? When we decide to go it alone? When we privilege independence and autonomy over companionship and mutuality? When we prioritise our individual “rights” over our care and concern for the most vulnerable among us? If the Trinity really is more than a bit of dusty doctrine the early Church fought over, then we dare not take lightly the life-changing power of the communal. God is Relationship, and it is in relationship — with God, ourselves, each other, and the world — that we experience and embody God’s nature.

We’ll see that God is hospitable. In the 15th century, Russian iconographer Andrei Rublev created “The Hospitality of Abraham,” also known as “The Trinity,” one of the most well-known and beloved icons in Christendom. Many of you might be aware of this famous icon. As an aside, both Janet and I have had the privilege to see this icon in person in Moscow. To see it in person is one of the highlights of my life.

In it, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (depicted as the three angels who appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre), sit around a table, sharing food and drink. Their faces are nearly identical, but they’re dressed in different colours. The Father wears gold, the Son blue, and the Spirit green. The Father gazes at the Son. The Son gazes back at the Father, but gestures towards the Spirit. The Spirit gazes at the Father, but points toward the Son with one hand, and opens up the circle with the other, making room for others to join the sacred meal. As a whole, the icon exudes adoration and intimacy — clearly, the three persons around the table respect and enjoy each other. But it also exudes openness. There is space at the table for the viewer of the icon. For me. For us.

As if to say, the point of the great Three-in-One is not exclusivity — God is not a high school clique — but rather, radical hospitality. The point of the Three is always to add one more, to extend the invitation, to make the holy table more expansive and more welcoming.

In fact, the deeper the intimacy between the Three grows, the roomier the table becomes. Likewise, the closer we draw to the adoration of the Three, the wider and more hospitable our hearts must grow towards the world.

And finally, we’ll see that God is sacrificial love. The Trinity at its heart is an expression of deep, unfaltering, and life-giving love between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The relationship between the persons of the Godhead is not a relationship of domination, power-mongering, manipulation, or jealousy. It is a relationship of unselfish, sacrificial love. Which begs the question: if God’s very being is grounded in love, and we are created in God’s image, then who are we? What are we? Are we, like the Triune God whose imprint we bear, creatures motivated first and foremost by love? Is love what we are known for? If not, then what are we doing with our lives? What does our piety amount to?

Why should we care about the three-in-one? We should care because we are children of the Trinity at a time when the world is reeling and desperate. We are the children of a mysterious, fluid, diverse, communal, hospitable, and loving God who wants to guide us into the whole truth of who God is and who we are. We should care because the mystery of the Trinity has the power to transform our hearts, leading us towards coherence and dynamism, unity and diversity, hospitality and self-giving love. This week and always, may our lives reflect the transformative beauty of the Triune God. The Lord be with you.

Choosing the EASY or the HARD Jesus

Sermon: Sunday 7 September 2025

Texts: Luke 14.25-35

Theme: Start of the ‘Season of Creation 2025’ – Peace with Nature

O Saviour Christ, in whose way of love lies the secret of life and the hope of all people. We pray for quiet courage to match this hour; we did not choose to be born or to live in such an age but let its problems challenge us; its discoveries exhilarate us, its injustices anger us; its possibilities inspire us; and its vigour renew us. For your kingdom’s sake. Amen.

I start by thanking Father Paul for the invitation to preach today at St John’s. In fact, it is a return and sort of homecoming for me, because thirty years ago in 1995, in my last year of theological training at St Francis College – I was assigned as a theological student to this very parish and have always since that year carried a soft spot in my heart for this beautiful church and its great congregation. In short – it is good to be back.

Most of you will not know that in Lent last year I was diagnosed with incurable stage 4 prostate cancer. I am happy to state that I’m responding well to good treatment, and the cancer is on hold, but the side effects of the medication have meant I couldn’t continue as a Rector, and I stepped down from full-time ministry last December. Today, in fact, is the first time I have preached since my retirement, and I told Father Paul that I could very well be very, very rusty. I suppose only time will tell, and I apologise in advance if what follows is a jumbled mess. I’m certainly praying hard that God’s voice can be heard in my words.

Last Monday was the 1^st of September, the start of the Season of Creation. A season in the Church’s liturgical calendar which the Universal Church has recently set aside for reflecting upon the majesty of the Created Order – the natural world around us. The season lasts just over a month running from the 1^st of September until the Feast of St Francis of Assisi on the 4^th of October. Father Paul has asked that I particularly refer to the start of this season in my sermon, to set up the remaining Sundays in the season. I’m really happy to do so and will come back to this theme in a moment – but I want to first ask a question for your silent reflection as the Gospel passage this morning contains harsh words uttered from the mouth of Jesus and it begs, for me at least, the following: Do we want to follow the EASY Jesus or the HARD Jesus?

We all know the EASY Jesus – the one who in Matthew’s Gospel says, ‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’ This is the Jesus we follow when life is shite, and we are at the end of our rope. Jesus is with us in our mess and says follow me and I will lead you home. I know of late, from personal experience that that’s exactly where I have been and maybe for some of you here this morning that’s the Jesus you need to heed and follow.

But what about our Gospel from Luke this morning where we hear Jesus say, ‘Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.’ For sure, this is the HARD Jesus, the no compromising, no ifs and buts, if you want to be my follower than it’s all or nothing Jesus. And really, is that what we want this morning, not least considering that it’s Father’s Day. And it’s ironic that we seem to be given license to put aside the fifth commandment about honouring our parents in order to hate them in order to follow our Lord. Do we really want the HARD Jesus? Sometimes, if I’m completely honest, the answer to that question is a big NO – give me EASY Jesus any day.

But what do we do with HARD Jesus! A couple of things really. The first is to note that EVERY commentator and scholar that I have read on these words of Jesus says that this is comparison language and not absolute language. It’s not that we have to hate everything including our very lives in order to follow Jesus but that we need to put Jesus number one – above everything else – including the safety of our lives, in order to follow Jesus, to be people of the Way! The second thing follows and that is for us to note the context of Jesus’ words. Large crowds were following. Many had been excited by the miracles of Jesus and the hope of a new life free from Roman occupation, but Jesus was making sure that people truly understood what it meant then and now to be a disciple of the Way. And it is interesting to note how few were left at the end.

The life of faith should be no different than other ventures; discipleship is not a weekend hobby or a vacation destination. It’s a full soul, full body, full mind endeavour that requires renunciation. And surrender. And a reordering of our identities, our priorities, and our proclivities.

As my good friend Australian theologian Andrew McGowan writes in his recent commentary on this passage:

An implication of Jesus’ address to the crowds is that not all of them (or us) will decide they really can build this tower or fight this battle. Jesus thus refuses the possibility that he or his message can be something just incremental, a form of “spirituality” that can be added to enhance a life that remains bent on other priorities, whether personal, familial, or national. Jesus will not be harnessed to any agenda to make us more efficient consumers, or leaders, or even family members, independently of him. Following him means giving all that up.

Sometimes I understand fully that my life is very comfortable thank you, in spite of my cancer diagnosis, and it really is the HARD Jesus way that I need to be reminded of. By dint of our baptism, we are all members of the body of Christ, we believe in God, and I hope that we trust that following in the Way of Jesus is the only life worth living. At times it is the EASY Jesus we hear and at times it is like today, the HARD Jesus. But, regardless of which Jesus we choose, both require us to follow.

So, let’s finally get to the Season of Creation. At last, some of you are thinking. But let me state that we need to be reminded all the time that our faith is not abstract but something we live as followers of our Lord and Saviour. Father Paul reminded you last week, for those here, that we Anglicans have adopted five marks of Mission. I think he described them as pillars and that’s good. They are five markers that describe our individual and collective action as followers of the WAY!

To remind you they are: To proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom, To teach, baptise and nurture new believers, To respond to human need by loving service, To transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and pursue peace and reconciliation, and To strive to safeguard the integrity of creation, and sustain and renew the life of the earth. They are not in ranked order – they comprise a whole unit with five focuses. In the Season of Creation, we narrow in on number five – to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth.

Each year there is a particular theme associated with the Season and this year the theme is ‘Peace with Creation.’ I take that to mean how do we live in peace and harmony with the Creation around us. How do we live in balance with God’s creation. In the material prepared there is the following: Creation is God’s sacred gift, entrusted to our care. Christians are called to protect and nurture Creation in peace, working in partnership with others and passing this responsibility on to future generations. Its deep interconnectedness makes peace both essential and fragile.

May I be bold and radical and state our starting point for this is prayer. When you go home today, cut out the prayer for the Season of Creation. Pin it to your fridge or other place where you will see it every day and make a declaration that you will sincerely pray this prayer everyday until the 4^th of October. If this prayer bores you and you want variety, ask Father Paul. We have hundreds of prayers that could be used for this season. But don’t leave it there!

Remember what St Augustine once said, ‘Pray as if everything depends upon God, but act as if everything depends upon you.’ If you want a simple act or action, download the Anglican Board of Mission Australia Season of Creation App – Weaving a Stronger Spell. It is a daily reading with quotes and questions and visuals that are simply stunning and more importantly thought-provoking.

If you want a four-part online bible study of this theme, then look for Anglican Overseas Aid’s ‘Climate Justice series: The Role of the Church in protecting and restoring God’s Creation.’ Each study is no more than 15 minutes long and inspiring and they are worth our time. If you want to get your hands dirty then just say, “More trees – less plastic” Since the 2022 Lambeth Conference – the initiative of the Anglican Communion Forest is gaining traction. Father Paul would have access to more information here, but may I suggest as a starting point, that this parish decides to plant one tree for each parishioner in this season of creation.

The amount of plastic waste in our world is an evil and wicked problem, and I’m not naïve enough to suggest that St John’s can solve the problem in thirty days, BUT that doesn’t mean we don’t do our very best in reducing the amount of single-use plastic that enters our households. Can we go home – make a small list of plastics we encounter regularly and decide at least for September that we are going to go without that item covered in plastic that ends up in our oceans and landfill, food chains and in our very bodies.

I’m going to finish by making two requests of Parish Council on your behalf. If you want collective action by St John’s Anglican Parish Bulimba, may I suggest you look at the Sustainability Roadmap developed by this very Diocese at least two years ago and the five-leaf eco awards that have been in existence for at least a decade. Father Paul I am sure can find these initiatives and include them on the Parish Council agenda.

Whether it’s the EASY Jesus or the HARD Jesus we are called to follow may we follow our Lord and Saviour to work and act for the integrity of creation and may we help sustain and renew the life of the earth.

The Lord be with you.