Pride, Pronouns and Holy Trinity

John 16:12-15

[Jesus said,] “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth, for he will not speak on his own but speak whatever he hears and declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said, ‘he will take what is mine and declare it to you.’”

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99% of the time strangers mispronounce my last name – and have – for as long as I’ve had it. On the first day of school (“Hall, Hamilton, Harris, HAVEL …”); Making introductions at Synod Assembly (“Pastor Mark HAVEL, from Cross of Grace, New PaleSTINE…”); Every announcer at every baseball game ever… (“Batting for the Dragons, “Jackson HAVEL or Max HAVEL…”)

We rarely correct people. It’s the HAVEL way. I was actually just joking with my son’s new tennis coach, who was asking how to pronounce his name, that there could very well be people in my congregation who don’t know how to say my name because everyone just calls me “Pastor Mark.” And we’re fine with it. Really. We let it slide for the most part. Unless someone cares enough to ask about getting it right, we will be the HAVELs without incident, injury, or offense.

(It’s “HAVEL,” by the way. Like NAVEL with an H. Even though I rarely correct people, relatively speaking, I’ve probably said that about a million times in my life.)

All of this is to say, I have some history with the significance and importance of getting someone’s name right – or not – and wondering about why that matters, if that matters, should that matter, DOES that matter. And I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately where pronouns for gender non-conforming, non-binary, and transgender people in the LGBTQ+ community are concerned. Since June is PRIDE month and since today is Holy Trinity Sunday, I hope where I’m headed with all of this is as practical as it is holy … because I have a confession to make:

I have been confused and frustrated by all of this pronoun stuff lately. And I know many of you have, too. Let me try to explain for those of you who are new to this and may be even more confused than me about it all. And I apologize in advance for whatever I get wrong.

If someone in the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t consider themselves to be straight-up MALE or straight-up FEMALE (what is known now as cis-gender or cis-het-gender), and if they don’t want to be known or identified or limited by either of one those binary adjectives, such a person might prefer to be referred to as “THEY” or “THEM.”

Or, if someone has transitioned – or is in the process of transitioning – from one gender to another – they might prefer to go by “THEM,” instead of something so cut-and-dried as “He” and “Him” or “She” and “Her.” Or, if someone was born a male and transitions to become a female, they might prefer to be known as “THEY” and/or “HER or SHE.”

Like I said, it can get confusing and, I’ll confess, even frustrating, for someone who’s trying to get it right. For example, I know of a public figure who was born a male and transitioned to become a transgender female, with a new stereotypically female name, “MEGAN.” Megan prefers for their pronouns to be “THEY” and “HE” if they’re doing something by way of ZOOM, for example, or the more generic “THEY” and “THEM” if they’re being referred to in the press or the media. Again, this can be confusing and frustrating and I confess – and I mean CONFESS – I’ve thought some uncharitable thoughts about how high-maintenance this seems, how overly-sensitive, how needy, if not arrogant and maybe narcissistic this might be. But I’m trying to learn.

See, as someone who has never cared and never taken it personally when people have gotten my name wrong, I just didn’t understand. Which is the point. I just didn’t understand. And maybe you don’t either. See, as a straight, white, male, it has always been my prerogative to correct people if/when they pronounced my name incorrectly – or not. I could call them on it, if I wanted to – or not. I could give them the whole, “it’s like navel with an “H,” spiel, if I wanted to – or not. In my mind, they are wrong and it is my choice, my option, my prerogative – it is within my power – to let them know they are wrong, if I want to.

But for someone in the LGBTQ+ community, someone like Megan, perhaps, who likely grew up in the closet, on the margins, as an outsider to some, as a sinner to many, THEY were the ones who, their whole life, were “wrong”: in the wrong body… wearing the wrong clothes… attracted to the wrong kind of person… fundamentally WRONG by the estimation of, in the opinion of, according to the theology and judgement of most of the world around them – which would be a terrible way to try to live and move and be in the world – AND they were without the status, without the prerogative, without the power, to demand the simple, holy respect of being seen, identified, understood, and addressed in a way that honored who they are and how they feel about their very self.

And I’m confessing my frustration with this, and my lack of patience and understanding with this, because I realize that it’s lazy of me; and inconsiderate; and lacking in empathy and compassion to not take the time to simply learn – or want to learn – to address someone in a way they wish to be addressed.

And all of this strikes me as practical and holy and relevant to wonder about on what we call Holy Trinity Sunday, this strange day on our church calendar where we’re invited to wonder about and wrestle with God’s identity – and the names we use to call upon, to pray to, and maybe with which we introduce others to the God we worship.

As followers of Jesus, we start with what we learn from Jesus, in Scripture – Father, +Son, and Holy Spirit. That’s our Trinity. That’s our non-binary identity for the God of all creation, if you will. That’s the most common language most of us use to refer to the God made known to us in Jesus. And because Jesus was born a boy and died a man and prayed to God “the Father,” in his first-century, patriarchal, male-dominated culture, we do a lot of that, too. But I think that’s kind of lazy and lacking in faithful creativity and holy imagination.

Because let’s remember that Jesus also likened himself to a mother hen, who gathers her brood under her wings…

In Genesis, we’re told God created humankind “in the image of God” … “male and female he created them.”

And the word for the holy wisdom of God is the feminine name Sophia, which some use in reference to the Holy Spirit…

And remember that Jesus also talked about himself as a shepherd, as a gate, as the Way, the Truth, and the Life…

He’s also the Lamb of God, the Bread of Life, the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Son of David…

Jesus would also answer to Lord, Master, Rabbi, Rabbouni…

He was also understood to be Lord, Logos, the Word, Christ, Messiah…

Talk about high maintenance.

So, on this Holy Trinity Sunday, in the middle of PRIDE Month, in this congregation full of people who – just last week – shared how welcoming and affirming we want to be to ALL of God’s children … as I learn about more congregations in our community choosing deliberately NOT to welcome, love and care for people who are LGBTQ … let’s remember that this whole idea of naming God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, matters most if and when it points to the relationship shared among the persons of the Trinity. And that matters most, if you ask me, when it calls us and others into relationship with that same God, into relationship with each other, and into relationship with all of God’s children.

So let’s consider … that when we limit what we’re willing to name or how we’re willing to call upon God, that we also limit all the ways we might see and share the goodness of God’s love, too. We risk limiting what God can look like and how God can show up in our lives, for others, and for the sake of the world, as well.

And let’s stop doing that to each other, too. Let’s be patient with ourselves and one another… let’s listen to, let’s hear, and let’s take the time to really see our neighbors the way God does and the way they see themselves – “he,” “she,” “them,” “they,” whatever. And let’s see and celebrate everyone as created in God’s image with love, in love, for the sake of love at all costs, just as each of us is claimed and called and blessed to be: children of God, marked with the cross of Christ, forever.

Amen

No Words for Holy Trinity

John 3:1-17

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus, by night, and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God because no one can do the signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said, “How can one be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

Jesus said to him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and the spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh. What is born of the spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with anyone who is born of the spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?”

Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? We speak about what we know and we testify to what we have seen, yet you do not receive our testimony. If I tell you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but might have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” 

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I had some remarkably strange and difficult conversations last week with three very different people I’d never met before. One was with a man who had seen me around town and who knows what I do here at Cross of Grace. He wanted to know if I’d be willing to talk with a friend of his who was struggling with a son, of his, who was struggling, too, with suicidal thoughts – attempts, even – and a very serious experience of abuse, to boot.

I had another series of conversations with a different young man altogether – a high school kid –who’s been struggling with some drug use, problems at home and school, some severe anxiety and, to top it off, harbors some serious fear about whether or not God could love or forgive him for some of the things he’d said and done – when he was in the third grade!

And I had a short, sweet little chat with the woman who cut my hair – about how she wouldn’t be doing much for the holiday weekend – partly because her sister’s birthday is today, but her sister died last year. So my barber and her family would be trying to find a way to do both things – the holiday and the grieving – at the same time.

Of course, I wanted for these people I didn’t know to know about God’s love and grace and mercy in their lives. I wanted to describe for them something about how deep and wide that love is meant to be felt by them. I wanted to find words that would overwhelm them with hope and the power of that divine kind of love so that they could feel it in a way that was as life-affirming, as life-giving, as life-changing – as the love of God is intended to be.

So, I outlined for them the intricacies and particulars – the theological trappings – of the doctrine of the Trinity, which we are invited to worship around and to celebrate this morning.

No, I didn’t do anything of the kind, because that would be ridiculous.

See, the irony of this Sunday is as funny to me as it is frustrating. Holy Trinity Sunday I mean, where we are charged with celebrating church doctrine, is always a strange proposition … this notion that God can be described and defined and defended and dumbed-down, if you ask me, into three things … three persons … three images … three identities – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in the context of worship.

As if we could do that. As if that were enough. As if there’s a way to say it all, here, now.

Because if we were to pretend to say it all, it wouldn’t be enough. Because not everyone speaks the same language – literally or figuratively or spiritually, either. Not everyone holds the same regard for “Father,” or for “Son,” or understands what in the world a “Holy Spirit” is, or a “Holy Ghost” for that matter. Right?

It’s funny to me because it seems strange to wrap worship up with such academic musings.

It’s frustrating to me because there are people out there in the world – and some listening to me now, I imagine – who have had enough with words. Enough with doctrine and theological trappings. Enough defending and dumbing-down what is too big and more beautiful and embarrassingly limited by our simplest terms and most convenient definitions.

There’s a time and a place for everything, don’t get me wrong. But Jesus didn’t spend a lot of time with plying definitions or playing defense. Maybe he’s doing some of that this morning with Nicodemus, but we also heard him say that he simply spoke about what he knew. That he testified to what he had seen. And it seems to me, Jesus was at his best – most fully, most faithfully, and most loving – when he was doing the work of God – not just defining or describing or defending it.

Jesus created experiences. He told stories. He touched and loved, he held hands and welcomed. He fed and watered, he wined and dined. He walked with people, he worked alongside them, he washed their feet and let them wash his. He prayed and sang and laughed and wept, too.

Which is why this conversation with Nicodemus, under cover of darkness, never seems like enough for me either. I don’t know exactly what Jesus is getting at, of course. I’m just as confused as Nicodemus was about “being born again,” about being “born of the flesh or born of the spirit,” about where the wind comes from or where the heck it goes to next. How can these things be? And what the heaven are you talking about, Jesus?

But Jesus is just getting started, really. He goes on to do some more talking and teaching and theologizing for Nicodemus, and it all ends up with the Son of Man … on the cross … giving it all up for the sake of the world. And that’s that. We don’t really know what happens with Nicodemus. We don’t hear about how they parted ways. Did they hug it out? Did they shake hands? Did they say a prayer? Did they agree to disagree? Whatever the case, I imagine Nicodemus left with his head spinning a bit – still wondering, “How can these things be?”

And we don’t hear much about Nicodemus after this, except in Chapter 7 when he actually stands up for Jesus, in the face of some of his fellow Pharisees. And then Nicodemus shows up one more time, at the end of John’s gospel.

After the crucifixion, which it’s safe to assume he witnessed, it’s Nicodemus who helps anoint Jesus’ body and prepare it for burial. So I suspect his time with Jesus that night in the dark got his wheels spinning enough so that he was willing to get his hands dirty too.

Like all of that talk about being born again, about the wind blowing where it chooses, about the Son of Man ascending and descending, about God so loving the world that he gave his only son … all of that came together for Nicodemus when he saw it come to life – and come to death, as it were – in the flesh of Jesus, himself.

 The words weren’t enough all on their own. The definitions weren’t enough all by themselves. The doctrines of what we believe only go so far and so deep and are rarely enough to speak to everyone in a way that matters.

So for the guy who approached me this week, looking for help for his friend, I gave him my name and number so we might get together and meet. I hope that happens.

For the high school kid wondering if God could ever forgive him or still love him, I reminded him that his mom and dad still did – that they still do – and that they’ve shown him that love over and over and over again – and that God’s love was even bigger and better than that.

And for the woman who cut my hair, I gave her a bigger tip than usual and told her to have a meaningful time remembering and celebrating her sister this weekend.

All that to say, again, I’m convinced we don’t find or understand or experience or share the fullness of God – Father, Son, or Spirit – solely or supremely by wrapping our brains around doctrines and definitions. The Word of God in Christ Jesus comes alive for us when we DO – like Jesus did – the work of loving one another, forgiving one another, creating experiences where grace and generosity and good news live and breathe and move through us in undeniable, abundant, life-giving ways that surprise us and others with God’s presence in all of its forms, and always crucified and risen for the sake of the world.

Amen