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“The Music of the Trinity”
The Reverend Canon Elizabeth C Knowlton
Trinity Sunday, May 18, 2008
Matthew 28:16-20
The Cathedral of St. Philip
Evensong 4:00 p.m.
When I was in seminary, part of our training was to preach several times each semester. There were a few days that I knew I would never preach. Christmas, Easter. But as I went along, I found out there was one Sunday I could always count on preaching. This Sunday. Trinity Sunday. Now you might think that this is because the clergy were taking a well deserved break after the glories of the Easter, Ascension, and the fires of Pentecost. Perhaps. But, after consulting with my fellow school mates and interpreting the glint in my rector’s eye, I came to understand that this was a form of clerical hazing.
“If you’re going to go through seminary,” my rector would say, “you should at least be able to articulate an understandable explanation of the Trinity.” I tried a number of examples during my three opportunities. First was an apple. It includes core, flesh, and peel, yet is still all an apple. Don’t worry, that one didn’t stick.
The next year, I used the analogy of a ring of satellites I had read about. They were so high on a mountain you needed to wear an oxygen mask to maintain them. Between all of them they were trying to capture composite images from the deepest realms of space. You may have guessed, but I haven’t used that one again either.
By my senior year I had discovered Augustine. He had written that the Trinity could be understood as the Father and Son in relationship with one another, with the Holy Spirit constituting the love that passed back and forth between them. I still use that one at the coffee hour. But the real problem with attaching a definition of the Trinity to seminary study is that it assumes that a school answer will be appropriate or even helpful.
A few years away from that kind of study, I still like Augustine. But the quote that helps me understand the Trinity is one that is particularly appropriate for this final service of Evensong for this season. “He that sings, prays twice.” There is a mystery in creating music that allows me to apprehend the Trinity more than a dry doctrinal description.
Today as I reflect on the Trinity with you, I have an easy task. You are probably here today because you love music, or someone who creates it. So, whether you know it or not, you already have a wonderfully developed doctrine of the Trinity. If you love music, it would never occur to you to split out the composer who inks the notes down on the score, from the conductor, from the voices that ultimately produce the sound. You know that all three of these are separate and unique, but when it comes to the music, they are all one.
It is a deep and wonderful mystery that we participate in every time we gather for musical worship. It is a mystery that is built on relationship and exchange. It is what makes the gospel text today relevant beyond its mentioning of the Trinitarian formula. Rather than getting stuck on doctrinal definitions, we need to answer the “so what question.” Why do we care about the Trinity? How does that affect my life? How is my own vocation as Christian and its charge to go out and make disciples supported by a deeper understanding of God as three in one?
It is about relationship that unifies. And indeed here music has something else to teach us. While everyone currently assembled behind the rood screen probably loves music, I am willing to bet that they also love the relationships and communities that emerge in the act of making music with one another. Their music is deepened and strengthened by the time they spend with one another on the way to rehearsal, donning their vestments, or having their eyes meet as the prepare to join the procession two by two.
Their music is also strengthened through discipleship. Many of us here today know that this will be our last official service here with Canon Bruce Neswick. We all know what an incredible musician he is. But, what has most inspired me about Bruce as I’ve watched him over the past several years is his care of relationships. He is so firmly fixed in the mystery of music and Trinitarian life, that he has been able to foster discipleship for many who have had the privilege of singing with him. He is an exemplar of the call to relationship embodied in Christian discipleship. It is sad to bid him farewell. But, we can do it with the confidence of the continuing relationship we share in God. We know he will continue his work in the church by creating more relationships that bring people close to God. We will miss seeing him in the hallways, but we may trust the mystery of our ongoing life with one another.
Amen
Comments? Contact Beth Knowlton at: BKnowlton@stphilipscathedral.org