The Gift of Generosity

2 Corinthians 8:1-12
Ordinary Time
Michael Miller

Peace Presbyterian Church has passed the test of whether we could survive our early life to become an official congregation.
We are told that only one in ten New Church Developments gets this far.
We will celebrate the meeting of that live-or-die challenge on October 18, when our snowbirds will be back, and we will be chartered.

Peace now enters a new set of challenges.

There will be Physical and Financial challenges.
We will need to meet our budget, without ongoing help from Presbytery and other local Presbyterian congregations.
We will need to grow in our financial giving, in this time of a down economy.
We will need to raise the funds to build a building, in addition to meeting our regular budget.
We will need to grow in numbers and in our giving, to get that building built fast enough to get ahead of the next wave of growth of Lakewood Ranch.
The next phase of Lakewood Ranch to be developed, as you know, is immediately to the east of Lorraine Road, where our building will be built. We want to be there to welcome the new neighbors when their neighborhoods are built out, and they move in.

There will be Vision challenges.

We will be tempted, as we get deeply involved in fund-raising and construction, to turn our attention and energy toward our own physical and financial needs, and away from our emphasis on meeting the needs of others.
In 2008, Peace gave to others – to causes and individuals outside ourselves – more than $56,000, an amount equal to 25% of our budget.
We don’t want to lose that emphasis on meeting the needs of others, especially in this time in which we are told that 1 out of 6 people in the world goes to bed hungry, every night.
We will be tempted, as we grow, to lose the intimacy, the authentic relationships, which have been our greatest joy and our greatest appeal to those who visit us and who immediately want to be a part of what God is doing here.
We don’t want to lose that kind of relationship which goes beyond superficial friendliness to genuine caring and compassion for each other and for others.

At root, there will be a Spiritual challenge.
We will be challenged to substitute institutional promotion and process, in place of personal spiritual faithfulness, transformation, and growth.

One thing we will need, in order to meet these challenges, is the spiritual gift of generosity, including generosity of spirit, along with generosity of our time, our talents, and our treasure.

We aren’t the first Christians to face this spiritual challenge.
Today’s passage from II Corinthians lets us know
that this problem goes all the way back to the first century church.

* * * * *
Paul wrote today’s passage in a letter to the church at Corinth.
The mother Jewish Christian church at Jerusalem
was in need of financial help.
Paul had instituted an offering among the Gentile Christian churches, out in the provinces, to provide that help.

The Christians at Corinth at first had loved Paul.
And they had signed on early, perhaps the first congregation to do so, to support the offering.

But others had come behind Paul, criticizing him and his work.

He had written a stern letter to the Christians at Corinth, because they failed to understand and follow some basic aspects of Christian life, though they excelled at others.

Most people, even Christians, don’t like having their shortcomings pointed out to them. That happened at Corinth. The result was that affection for Paul, and enthusiasm for the offering, had taken a hit.
The honeymoon between Paul and the church at Corinth was over. They still loved him. But the honeymoon was over.

Paul wanted to address and solve both problems with this letter. He especially didn’t want the Corinthians to renege on their commitment to the offering.

Paul correctly saw that, whatever their feeling toward him might be, the failure to carry through with a commitment to help those in need, especially Christians in need, and especially those Christians in the place where the faith had been born, was more than a matter of personalities.
It was a matter of spiritual health.

Paul made several types of arguments about the Corinthians’ carrying through on their commitment to the offering.

He complemented them for their excellence in many matters of faith – their faith itself, their speech, their knowledge, their earnestness, and their love for him and others in the faith. He challenged them also to excel in the grace of giving.

Paul made clear he was not commanding them to give. Giving should be from the heart, not from command.

But Paul did challenge the believers at Corinth, to show the same earnestness and enthusiasm for the offering as other congregations were doing, especially those in Macedonia.

Paul made a theological argument, reminding his readers that Christ gave everything for them, and that they should give generously for others.

Paul finished today’s passage with a word of advice, rather than command.
He advised the believers at Corinth that their enthusiasm and desire to be involved at the beginning, should be matched by the discipline to carry through with the work, at the end.
“For if the willingness is there”, he wrote, “the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have”. II Cor. 8:12.
In other words, give all you can, from what you have,
with enthusiasm, and the gift will be acceptable.

But Paul wrote, even before making these arguments, about what the Macedonian churches had done concerning the offering – churches in Philippi, Thessalonica, and elsewhere.
Those Macedonian churches were not wealthy and comfortable congregations, with plenty to give without noticing it.
They were congregations experiencing “severe trial” and “extreme poverty”.
Nevertheless, as Paul made clear, they had given beyond their ability, and with overflowing joy and rich generosity.
They urgently pleaded for the privilege of participating in this service to the saints.

How were the Macedonian churches able to do that, to become models for others in supporting the offering? What was going on, among them, and in them, that made this possible?

Paul speaks of the “grace that God has given the Macedonian churches”. II Cor. 8:1.
They “gave themselves first to Lord and then to us in keeping with God’s will”.

II Cor. 8:5.

Paul was sending Titus to Corinth, to assist with the offering, “to bring to completion this act of grace on your part.” II Cor. 8:6.

* * * * *

With this background understanding, let’s read the passage aloud together.

NIV 2 Corinthians 8:1-12
And now, brothers and sisters,
we want you to know about the grace
that God has given the Macedonian churches.

2 Out of the most severe trial,
their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty
welled up in rich generosity.

3 For I testify that they gave
as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability.

Entirely on their own, 4 they urgently pleaded with us
for the privilege of sharing in this service to the saints.

5 And they did not do as we expected,
but they gave themselves first to the Lord
and then to us in keeping with God's will.

6 So we urged Titus,
since he had earlier made a beginning,
to bring also to completion this act of grace on your part.

7 But just as you excel in everything—
in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness
and in your love for us—
see that you also excel in this grace of giving.

8 I am not commanding you,
but I want to test the sincerity of your love
by comparing it with the earnestness of others.

9 For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,
that though he was rich,
yet for your sakes he became poor,
so that you through his poverty might become rich.

10 And here is my advice
about what is best for you in this matter:

Last year you were the first
not only to give but also to have the desire to do so.
11 Now finish the work,
so that your eager willingness to do it
may be matched by your completion of it,
according to your means.

12 For if the willingness is there,
the gift is acceptable according to what one has,
not according to what one does not have.

The Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

* * * * *

So what does this passage have to do with us at Peace Presbyterian today?

I suggest to you that we – along with the Corinthians in the first century, and with all Christians in every century– are called to the kind of spiritual life exhibited by the churches in Macedonia.

How? How can we do that?

We can't just conjure up generosity of spirit, and the spiritual gift of generosity, from within ourselves.

John Baggett, in a lecture at Kentucky Wesleyan College, correctly said if we attempt to imitate Christ, or to take on His spiritual character, by human efforts alone, we put ourselves on a road that ends either in self-deception and hypocrisy, or in failure and despair.

As Paul wrote, genuine gnerosity of spirit is a gift.

It's a gift we work at, yes. Some would say we are called to "fake it till you make it". Devout Christians always will be vulnerable to the claim of hypocrisy, because we always will be called, and always will be trying, to live a lifestyle of which we are incapable on our own.

The authentic life of generosity, as any other aspect of authentic imitation of Christ, is possible only for those who are undergoing spiritual transformation, and who are being guided and empowered, whether they are aware of it orno, by the Holy Spirit.

That was the real challenge facing the church at Corinth.

And that is the real challenge facing Peace Presbyterian Church.

We are not called to carry through on a commitment to and offering for a church at Jerusalem.

We are called to carry through on a commitment to live our lives as disciples of Jesus Christ, at this time and in this place, whatever the specific details of that calling turn our to be.

How can we do that?

We are here, in worship.

God transforms us, guides u, and empowers us, as we turn to God and open ourselves to God, in worship.

You remember the story about the iron filings scattered on the table top.

It is very difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of each little filing, and to move each one of them into some sort of order.
But if you put a magnet near them, they all line up.
In some way we do not understand, when we “turn first to the Lord”, as Paul put it, God’s power and Presence have that kind of effect on us.
We find ourselves lining up with our own best nature, with each other, with others, and with the earth, in the kind of life we are intended to live.
God’s power not only lines us up. It also kindles and nurtures the Christ life within us.

We are getting ready to participate in the Lord’s Supper.
We may disagree with our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers as to whether the grape juice or wine turns into Jesus’ physical or spiritual blood.
But we agree with them, and with believers everywhere, that the living Christ is present among us and at work, in some mysterious way we can’t comprehend, as we eat the bread, drink the juice, remember the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord,
and open ourselves to mystery and to miracle.

Here, and away from here, we are about the task of caring for each other, and for others.
And throughout the centuries, people of faith walking that road have found themselves surprised, from time to time, to be aware that the living Christ was among them, walking along with them, blessing and multiplying their efforts, and transforming them into His image.

There is a story about a sculptor.
He wanted his life’s work to be crowned by a statue of Jesus that would bring people face to face with the resurrected and living Christ.
He chipped away at stone in a first effort.
When he was finished, those who saw it said, “He must have been a very kind person”.
The sculptor destroyed the statue.
He chipped away at stone a second time.
Those who saw it said, “He must have been an extremely powerful person”.
The sculptor again destroyed his work.
He chipped away at stone a third time.
This time, those who saw the statue, knelt before it.
The sculptor had succeeded in his task.

Our task is to chip away at our selfishness, our pettiness, our lack of trust in God, our own self-interest, our misunderstanding of who we really are, until what is left is something God can fill with the all the gifts of the Spirit, generosity and all the rest.

Then we will have succeeded in living lives which will lead people to kneel, not before us, but before the One who has made something holy out of human lives, even our lives, and our life together.

Can this really happen in a twenty-first century world?
Absolutely! It already is happening!

Our survival this far is God’s work.
All we have done is to keep chipping away at our fears and anxieties.

Our understanding of ourselves as God’s children in this place is God’s work.
All we have done is keep chipping away, through studies together such as the one Judy is leading, at the culture’s attempts to tell us who we are.

Our generosity last year is God’s work.
All we have done is keep chipping away at our sense of how much we need to hold onto, in order to feel secure.

Our love for each other is God’s work.
All we have done is keep chipping away at the idea that it’s all about ourselves.

* * * * *

In the children’s class Godly Play, the children are asked about the Bible story for the day, “Where are you in this story?”, or “Where are we in this story?”
We at Peace are called to be the Macedonians, in today’s story.

We are called to be the ones who beg to participate in helping others, who give more than we are asked, whose hearts are in loving God, in loving each other, and in loving neighbors near and far.
For the task, we already have been given a measure of the gift of generosity.
And as we keep chipping away, God intends to make that gift more and more a part of our lives.

Will we have challenges? You bet!
Bring them on!

God, Who began this good work in you, intends to complete it!

Thanks be to God!

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Sermon by Dr. David Mullen - June 21, 2009

NOTE: Sermon will be posted when received.

The Sower, the Seeds, and the Soil

Mark 4:1-20; 26-34
Ordinary Time
Elizabeth M. Deibert

Some people call it yard work. I call it yard play. Recreation. I absolutely love gardening. Dirt under my nails, sun on my neck, sweat on my brow. Yes, I even like feeling a little sore the next day from all the back-breaking labor. Dotty Thomas recently gave me some herbs, vegetable plants and flowers, and she worried that receiving them while I had house guests, they would be a burden. Far from it, every time I looked at those plants, I saw opportunity to play in the yard, to escape the worries of every day life. I love the anticipation of a day of play in the yard, I enjoy the process of working in the yard, and I love the product. The best thing after getting to do the work is walking outside to admire the work. It’s great to watch the growth of a plant you put in. When you grow plants from seed, it is even more exciting.

Today we read three parables about the sower, the seeds, and the soil. As you hear these three parables – one long and more familiar one, about the sower scattering seed on all kind of soil, followed by two shorter ones – you may imagine yourself as a sower or you may imagine that God is using your words as seed. You may consider yourself soil and wonder whether you are fertile ground for the seeds God plants. Good parables have multiple layers of meaning, leaving room for us to imagine and wonder and grow.

Hear now the word of the Lord from Mark. I will read very slowly, hoping to allow you time to absorb the text and the image.


(Text)


Digging, planting, watering, tending, pruning. These activities soothe my soul because they are metaphors for life.

The weeds I pull out, which are crowding the good plant, making it harder for them to thrive are like the activities in my life which crowd the more important things. The weeds in the soil of my soul soak up my energy, but in the end are of little use.

The dirt I loosen reminds me of my own heart, which gets hardened by the tread marks of others, whom I kept out. It is hardened by my own unwillingness to loosen up and be open to the Spirit. The watering reminds me of my need for the refreshment of God and the renewal of life in the living waters of God’s grace, which is ours in baptism. Without that renewal, I look and feel like the withering houseplant or the dried up lawn of grass. Pruning reminds me of the danger of over-reaching, over-extending and how we have to keep attention on our roots, give them opportunity to go deep.

I often chuckle to myself, as I work in the yard, thinking how easy it is to prune an over-grown plant, while how difficult it is to prune an overgrown church leader who is crowding out those who are planted too closely and over-extending to the point of burn out.

I like to muse about how easy it is measure the growth of flowers and trees and how much more challenging to measure the growth of people, although when a person comes into full spiritual bloom, when a person clearly has deep spiritual roots, it is fairly obvious to everyone who is paying attention.

It is easy to spot weeds in a garden but even more frustrating to figure out how to help those whose spiritual lives are full of weeds and thorns. You know the closer the weed is to the plant, the harder it is to pull out the weed without also damaging the good plant. Spotting weeds in others’ gardens is like the speck in the eye of someone else and the log in mine that I don’t see. The weeds in my own spiritual garden grow up without my awareness or with my justification.

Okay, we’ve talked about our lives as soil and as plants in need of rootedness. So let’s discuss for a moment what it means to be sowers with Christ. Can we sow seeds of God’s love, or are we just fertilizer – manure – for the seeds Christ is sowing in the garden’s of people’s hearts. “Manure for the Seeds of God” That would have been a good sermon title. I could actually take that metaphor pretty far, thinking about how God takes the waste my life, my feeble attempts at mercy, peace, justice, and love and uses it to fertilize the soil of others. The Apostle Paul claims he planted seeds and that Apollos watered, but he insisted that it was God who gave the growth. Nobody else matters but God, he says. (1 Corinthians 3:6)

I like to think we’re sowing seeds when we pass out cards inviting people to be a part of this new church. And you will surely know, if you’ve been here long, I encourage a broad and fairly indiscriminate spreading of the seeds or Peace cards.

But what we all know in the bottom of our hearts is that evangelism does not work well, short of relationship, Broadcasting seed without any engagement with the soil is not very effective. If I want God’s seed of love to take root, then I need to get into the soil of someone’s garden and gently work in it, to remove rocks and loosen up the parts that have been pounded down by Christians who did not care enough to tend the soil lovingly. We need to be engaged enough with the soil to know which weeds can be removed without disrupting the soil too much.

Many would say the lesson of this parable of the seed is that we should just keep sowing, not worrying at all about where the seed lands. But isn’t that part of the problem? It’s a cop out to say, “Okay, I’ll broadcast seed, but I know it won’t take root over there, because that soil has been hard for years. No seed can grow in that.” Well, why don’t we get our hands dirty in that soil, mix up a little manure, I mean fertilizer, from our own lives, and see if in an authentic relationship we might be able to create a little more fertility.

Another problem with Christians, is that we sometimes add weed to the seed of God’s word. Richard and I had a great discussion the other night with Emily and Nicolas about the problem of Christian missionaries being imperialistic in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Missionaries have found it difficult to share the Gospel of God’s love without imposing their culture too. Just goes to show that all of us have trouble separating the wheat from the tares. The United States was founded on the separation of church and state, but we still mix it up.

So we’ve talked about the soil of our hearts and about sowing, but not about the seed itself. The seed is the Word of the Lord, according to Jesus’ explanation to the disciples, who are the only ones he seems interested in teaching. There seems to be a resignation about those who do not believe, but that also can be interpreted as trust in sovereignty of God. The seed has the power to germinate and take root and become a magnificent plant which itself then provides more seeds. Sevenfold would be the expected yield. Thirty, sixty, and a hundred fold would be outstanding. The third parable uses the example of the tiny mustard seed, which grows into a large shrub, large enough for a bird to nest in. This thought reinforces the notion of the second parable – that God is doing the amazing work of growth, even while we are unaware. It is reassuring to know that the consummation of God’s reign is not ultimately dependent on our meager but best efforts, but on the goodness of God.

God’s seed of divine love is germinating in you, such that you will produce fruit containing more seeds of love for all the world. You can be more receptive to growth, more fertile by having an open mind and a tender heart. Bitterness and a lack of gratitude make our ground of our soul hard. Distractions, sin, rebellion against God are like weeds, choking off the growth of our faith. Greedy birds of culture eat the seeds which are lying exposed. Anxiety and too much accommodation to the self-oriented values of the world are like thorns choking off good growth. A healthy plant needs the water and sunshine of regular worship, along with a little manure and healthy mixing with the congregation.

Some people are turned off to organized religion. They got tired or disillusioned by the smelly dung of other flawed human beings in the church, but I believe God uses us to fertilize the soil of our companions in the church. None of us has become what we will be. But we are refreshed by the waters of life and nourished by the word and sacrament to grow and be fruitful. In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “I am the vine and you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me, you can do nothing...You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.” And according to Paul in Galatians 5, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. May the trees of our lives be full of those fruits.

Above, Beside, and Within

John 3:1-17
Trinity Sunday
Elizabeth M. Deibert

Prayer: Guide us, O God, by your Word and Spirit, into your womb of new birth, where we will truly become like Christ, nourished by this heavenly food of your truth and presence.

I have a growing affection for the Trinity. I know that may sound strange. You see, for many of my years in ministry, I simply avoided discussing the Trinity. It was too confusing and I thought I needed to be able to explain it. But now I tend to enjoy pondering this dance of love, this Trinity which is beyond my understanding, this One-in three and three-in-one beyond my grasp.

I am coming to appreciate that the mystery of the Trinity is not so much riddle as it is a reality that is simply beyond our human comprehension. It is a reality which we may begin to comprehend, but ultimately we must embrace this truth through worship and believing and living as children of God. “It has been said that mystery is not a wall to run up against, but an ocean in which to swim. The common wisdom is that if you talk about the Trinity for longer than a few minutes you will slip into heresy because you are probing the depths of God too deeply.” David Bennett, http://www.churchyear.net/

The Trinity is best described in the Nicene Creed. Essentially the Trinity is the belief that God is one in essence (Greek ousia), but distinct in person (Greek hypostasis). Now that word “person” which we sang in the first hymn, “God in three persons, blessed Trinity” makes for some confusion. The Greek word for person means “that which stands on its own,” or “individual reality,” and does not mean the persons of the Trinity are three persons, like when we speak of three human beings. So it means that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are distinct but not divided. While they are also completely united in will and essence.

Take the analogy of your two eyes. The eyes are distinct, yet one and undivided in their sight. Another illustration to explain the Trinity is the musical chord. Gia will play a C chord for us. The C, the E, and the G are all distinct notes, but joined together in one chord. As one chord, the sound is richer and more dynamic, than the three notes played singly. If one note is left out, there’s a lot missing. The fullness of the chord is not there.

Each member of the Trinity intermingles with one another like the sounds in a chord, which produce overtones and harmonics. With the Trinity, each member has a distinct roles in creation and redemption, which is called the Divine economy. For instance, God the Father created the world through the Son and the Holy Spirit hovered over the waters at creation.

So if we try to say that God the Father is the Creator, and God the Son, the Redeemer, and God the Spirit is the Sustainer, it is not quite a complete description, because all three were involved in creation, all three are involved in redemption, and all three are involved in sustaining us in life and death. And all three together are one. Yet it is tempting to try to understand the Trinity in terms of function or mode.

In today’s scripture, the story of Jesus and Nicodemus, we hear about all three distinct realities of the Trinity. This story confronts us with a God seeking to be born within us, a God who is above us, breaking into our human life as a God with us to save us. The story also demonstrates the human desire to understand what cannot be explained in rational terms.

Let us now hear the Word of the Lord from the Gospel of John.

Nicodemus appears three times in the Gospel: the first is when he visits Jesus one night to listen to his teachings (John 3:1-21) as we just read; the second is when he appears to defend Jesus during the Feast of Tabernacles (John 7:45-51); and the last follows the Crucifixion, when he assists Joseph of Arimathea in preparing the corpse of Jesus for burial (John 19:39-42). It seems that by the end, Nicodemus has experienced the new birth, the being born from above of which Jesus speaks.

While there is no formulaic definition of the Trinity here, (that came through the Church later) you can see in this passage the Holy Spirit, the Womb of life, giving birth to God’s children. You see the Father begetting and sending the Son, and the Son testifying to the Father and to the Spirit.

Let’s think about how the Triune God is above us, beside us, and within us. How the endless circle of God’s love is for the salvation of the world.

Nicodemus was challenged to consider his need to be born from above. To have someone above me means I’m in a humble, submissive position. Those above me have power over me. They have authority and my respect. I believe all children of God, all people are more content when they recognize they are not in control, not masters of their own destiny. We need a God who is above us, beyond us, far superior to us in every way. I must admit that most of the language in Westminster Catechism does not inspire me, but this does: When it speaks of the meaning of the 1st commandment – having no other gods, it says that the duties required of us with that commandment are the knowing and acknowledging of God to be the only true God and our God, and to worship and glorify God accordingly; by thinking, meditating, remembering,highly esteeming, honoring, adoring, choosing, loving, desiring,fearing; believing God; trusting, hoping,
delighting, rejoicing in God; being zealous for ;calling upon, giving all praise and thanks, and yielding all obedience and submission to God with the whole self; being careful in all things to please, and sorrowful when in anything God is offended; and walking humbly with God. (Westminster Larger, #104)

Perhaps we have under-emphasized the God who is above us, the Immortal, Invisible, God only wise, in light, inaccessible hid from eyes.

Our generation prefers the companion God. What a Friend We Have in Jesus. To have someone beside me to have a companion, one who goes with me, one to whom I talk and listen, who experiences what I experience, who understands my life. The same God who is above us is among us in the Christ, who was from the beginning, who brought divinity to earth, and took our humanity to heaven, wherever that above, beyond place is. God so loved the world, that God could not help but live with us, among us, sharing our joys and sorrows, living and dying for us, that we might live and die in the Lord. We need a parent, but we need a brother and friend. In the image on the screen one can see the dual nature of Christ – the human-divine unity in one person with two complete natures. Christ is the perfect friend, being just like us, but also being more than us, he lifts us up to a higher plane.

Christ might seem the singular hero of this passage as he illumines the curious Nicodemus. Martin Luther called John 3:16 the Gospel in miniature. But notice that John 3:16 reads “God so loved the world that God gave the gift of the Son. And when the Resurrected Son prepares to ascend, he promises the gift of the Spirit, and the dance goes on.

And so the Trinity is not complete without the One whom Christ called our Advocate. The Spirit. We have a parent above and a Christ who is above us also. We have a brother and friend beside us in Jesus, who is called Immanuel, God with us, and we have a Holy Spirit intertwined with our spirit. To have someone within me is a intimate union. It is the Spirit of God working in us to draw us into the very heart of God. It is that Spirit whispering to our spirits that we are children of God, loved by God, called to be God’s faithful people. It is that Spirit whispering peace to us when we wait for a pathology report, when we lose yet another job, as Jo Allison did, or when struggle to raise our kids, not knowing all the right answers to today’s problems.

God so loved the world that God did not desire to condemn the world but to save the whole world. Through the wonderful and mystery work of the Trinity, I believe God is laboring to save the world. We are not rewarded, loved, saved for our believing, but our believing is an act of trust. It is a relational bond of intimacy, of commitment, of devotion, facilitated by the Spirit. To say our believing is irrelevant is to cheapen grace. To say God’s forgiving love is contingent on a verbal affirmation of belief is to nullify the gift of grace. We are participants in this covenantal relationship of love with a Triune God, whose very identity is communal in nature.

My dad died 8 years ago this week. He was the volunteer youth director at the Faison Presbyterian Church for many years. One of the hallmarks of his leadership was the way he insisted that we teens treat each other with dignity. Every Wednesday night, in addition to Bible time and prayer time, we would have circle time. Someone in the group of about 15-20 high schoolers would be called to the center of the circle where nothing but affirmation could be lavished upon them. This was a challenging exercise for teens, who are much more comfortable making fun of each other than thinking of a creative expression of praise for their peers. It was terrifying and wonderful to be the one trapped in the circle of love. It was a powerful yet awkward act of trust.

The Trinity is the circle of love out of which we cannot step. The God who is above us, beside us, and within us, wraps us securely in a boundless embrace. To believe is to have open eyes to that circle of love, to stop trying to turn away from it, to rest in it, grow in it, be filled by it for loving service to others.

I’d like to close with a poem by John Donne:

Batter my heart, three personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me and bend Your force to break, blow, burn and make me new. I, like an usurped town, to another due, Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end; Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captivated and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly I love you and would be loved fain, But am betrothed unto your enemy: Divorce me, untie or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.