(Proverb 8:1-4, 22-31; John 16:12-15)
Today is Trinity Sunday. And don’t worry — I’m not going to give you a crash course on two thousand years of Christian doctrinal debates. I remember when I used to teach Patristics and Early Christianity, many of my students would get utterly lost in the complexity of the Trinitarian controversies over Greek terms such as ousia and hypostasis.
But today, I don’t want to stand here and untangle the metaphysical knots that have perplexed the greatest minds of Christian history. Instead, I want to return to something more central, more pastoral — the heart of the doctrine itself. Because all our theology, all our creeds, all our concepts are worth nothing unless they lead us to this truth: the Triune God is love — living, active, never abandoning, never giving up on creation.
Trinity is not a puzzle to be solved, but a mystery to be lived. The Trinity should be something practical with radical consequences for the life of Jesus’ disciples. Trinity tells us who God is for us — not a distant deity sitting above the clouds, but a God deeply invested in the life of the world, inviting us to participate in divine love through Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit.
So on this Trinity Sunday, my central message is this: When we profess belief in the Triune God, we are saying that God never abandons this world — no matter how broken it is. God never gives up on any human being — no matter how far they seem from grace. And God has always been and will always be faithful to love. Love is not simply what God does. It is who God is.
If our talk of the Trinity does not lead us to encounter and express that love—for all people and all creation, then I believe that we’ve missed the point entirely.
Today’s Gospel reading from John 16 reminds us that God’s self-revealing did not stop with Jesus’ earthly ministry. Jesus speaks of the Spirit who will “guide you into all truth,” who will “declare to you the things that are to come.” All that the Father has belongs to Jesus, and what belongs to Jesus is given to us through the Spirit. There is a divine movement here — from the Source (the Father), to the Embodied and Incarnate Word (the Son), to the Indwelling Presence (the Spirit) — and all of it directed toward us.
This is not abstract theology. It is a relational reality. God, in God’s fullness, is not static, but dynamic — not remote, but intimate. The Trinity is the pattern of God’s ongoing love-story with the world: God the Father creates, God the Son redeems, and God the Holy Spirit sustains and transforms. In this divine dance, we are invited to take part — to live lives shaped by grace, grounded in truth, and moved by love.
In our Old Testament reading, Proverbs 8, we meet a surprising figure: Woman Wisdom. She is not passive, waiting to be discovered in ivory towers. She is on the streets, in the crossroads, by the city gates, crying out to all people. She has been with God from the beginning, rejoicing always in God’s presence, ‘delighting in the human race.’
She reminds us that God did not create the world in isolation, but in communion—and continues to work in the world not with cold detachment, but through connection and care. Woman Wisdom represents this ongoing divine invitation: to live with God, walk in the ways of understanding, and participate in the ongoing creation and renewal of the world.
This wisdom is living. It grows, responds, and adapts. And it teaches us to walk humbly, to love truthfully, and to trust deeply. It’s the same wisdom that the Spirit brings to us now — not just preserving the past but interpreting it for the present. As Jesus says, the Spirit ‘will declare to you the things that are to come.’ In other words, God’s self-revelation is not finished — it continues, through the Spirit, in every age and every place where love is lived out and will continue to be lived out.
Now, you might ask — what does all this mean when the world seems so dark? Just this week, we witnessed a devastating plane crash, and all the ongoing wars and conflicts. Lives were lost. Families shattered. Grief overwhelms many communities. And in moments like this, people understandably ask: “Why? Why did this happen? Where was God?”
Let me be clear: Belief in the Triune God does not give us easy answers to human suffering. It doesn’t explain away grief. But it does proclaim this: Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Not tragedy. Not disaster. Not even death.
We do not believe in a God who stands far off. We believe in a God who came near—in Jesus, who suffered with us and for us. And we believe in the Spirit, who continues to comfort, to guide, and to bring life even out of death. God is not the cause of suffering — God is the healer within it. God does not abandon the world in its pain — God enters it, stays with it, and draws it toward redemption.
And that is why the Trinity matters because the world is broken and people are hurting. We need to proclaim, not a formula, but the presence of a God who is Father, Son, and Spirit; Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer; Love beyond comprehension.
Then, the Trinity is not an abstract diagram. It is the heartbeat of our faith. And it challenges us — radically — to live differently.
The Trinity calls us to relational living. This relational nature of God calls us to mirror that divine pattern: to choose community over isolation, collaboration over competition, and compassion over judgment. In a fragmented world, Trinity Sunday invites us to live in the image of our relational God.
The Trinity calls us to faithful presence. To believe in the Triune God is to follow a God who does not abandon the suffering. Like Jesus, we are called to stand with those in pain, to offer hope where there is despair, and to embody love in the face of hatred. Trinity is not an abstract doctrine; it is an incarnational invitation to be present with others.
And the Trinity calls us to ongoing discernment. In our world today, where injustice, inequality, and crisis abound, the question is not whether the Spirit is still speaking—the question is: Are we still listening? Trinity Sunday reminds us that God’s voice is not only in the past but also in the present, calling us to discern how to live faithfully now.
The Trinity is an invitation. An invitation to join the divine dance. To walk with Wisdom. To live with love. To let ourselves be shaped by the God who is always for us, with us, and in us.
In a world full of division, despair, and doubt, the Trinity invites us into connection, hope, and trust. Let us not treat it as an exam question. Let us live it as our truth.
So today, as we celebrate the mystery of the Triune God, let us remember what it means: That God created us in love, that Jesus redeemed us in love, that the Spirit sustains us in love, and that we are called — all of us — to be vessels of that love in the world.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who is our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer in Divine Love. Amen.