Homily: The Most Holy Trinity – Cycle C
In my last semester of high school at JCA, I
started to hang out with a classmate of mine named Bill Schmitz. Bill was an eccentric guy. He had a great sense of humor, but was very
intense. It was either “off” or “on”
with him, never in between. This made
him a lot of fun to hang around with because where my own inhibitions might
keep me from expressing something as strongly as I might want, Bill would just
let it fly! Through our hanging out,
Bill introduced me to one of his friends, Trisha, who proved also to be a lot
of fun to hang out with. Over a series
of weeks leading up to our graduation—a couple of months perhaps—we spent a lot
of time together: hanging out, joking, and enjoying each other’s company.
On one evening during this time, the three of us
were at another acquaintance's house, hanging out. Bill started talking about how cool he
thought it was that the three of us were becoming something of an inseparable
trio. Then, in true Bill fashion, he
took it to the next level, saying that we needed a name by which we would
identify ourselves. Of course, Bill had
a name picked out. He said, “We’re like
a triangle. We should call ourselves
‘The Triangle’”. (As I said, Bill was
intense... not the most creative, but intense.)
Being teenagers still and, therefore, still akin to lunging at silly
things, I remember Trisha and I both agreeing to the name that night. As the days and weeks went on, we had a lot
of fun as “The Triangle”.
Soon, though, high school graduation came and
went. I would soon leave for Michigan to
pursue my degree in engineering, Bill would begin his apprenticeship as a
plumber, and Trisha had one more year of high school yet before she would
graduate. I’m guessing that it would
surprise no one here if I told them that, as the members of “The Triangle”
started down these different paths, this once-unified group of persons quickly
dissolved into nothing. 30 years later,
I don’t think I’ve run into or spoken with either Bill or Trisha.
So, why this story at the beginning of the
homily on Trinity Sunday? Well, because
I think that Bill tapped into something fundamental when he recognized the
bond, fragile as it was, that had grown between himself, Trisha, and I. In calling us the “triangle”, he was
recognizing what he thought was a completeness in us, just like a triangle is
complete, in itself. As the three points
in the triangle, we had bonds of good will that, for a time, kept us
together. Those bonds proved to be
somewhat superficial, however, and so they quickly dissolved once distance made
it hard to stay connected. Nonetheless,
in recognizing the “community of persons” that these bonds created, Bill was
projecting (somewhat unwittingly, I’m sure) an innate sense that, having been
created in God’s image, we are meant to form these kinds of communities of
persons: especially ones that are bonded together in deep ways.
Hopefully, at this point, you’re seeing where
I’m going with this, because what I’m describing here is a faint reflection of
what it is that we celebrate this Sunday: that God, himself, is a community of
persons, who nonetheless remains singular in his being. Just as the three points, bonded together by
the lines that connect them, make the triangle; and just as the triangle
dissolves into nothing if one of those points or bonds is removed; so God is
whole and complete in himself as this community of persons, united in the bonds
of their eternal outpouring of love. If
any one of these points is removed, or if the bond of love between them ceases
to be, then God is no longer who he has revealed himself to be. In fact, I’d be so bold to say that he would
no longer be God, at all!
Having been created in God’s image and likeness,
we are created to be a community of persons, inseparably united by the bonds of
love. This, in fact, is the reason for
which we were created: to be one with God in the community of persons that he
is in himself. As little children use
play to enter into the lives of the adults around them, acting as parents in
make-believe homes and as professionals in make-believe offices, farm fields,
and factories—instinctively knowing that they are destined to enter into that
world someday—so we human beings know instinctively that we are meant to enter
into that perfect community of persons in eternal life and, thus, strive to
create that in this world by entering into exclusive unions with one another. In naming our little trio, Bill was
formalizing what we had done instinctively: formed a small community of
persons.
Just as a child’s play in the world of adults
quickly dissolves when it becomes work or simply uninteresting, so do many of
these communities of persons into which we enter dissolve if there isn’t
something substantial to hold them together.
“The Triangle” quickly dissolved because our bonds were our mutual
enjoyment of each other’s company. We
didn’t know each other very deeply; and so, when distance meant that we could
no longer enjoy each other’s company easily (that is, when it became work), we
became disinterested and lost contact.
The three Persons of the Holy Trinity, however,
are bonded by infinitely perfect bonds: the Father knows the Son infinitely and
the Son knows the Father infinitely; and their infinite outpouring of love to
each other bursts forth as a third Person, the Holy Spirit (who, himself, is
infinitely known and loved by the Father and the Son and who infinitely knows
and loves them each in return). This
Holy Spirit bursts forth so that the infinite love of these persons can be
known and shared by all.
This last part—that who God is in himself allows
that we could know and share in who he is as a community of persons—is our
reason to celebrate and give thanks this day.
Every community of persons, even the community of persons that most
closely resembles the Holy Trinity—that of the human family—is still, because
of our limitedness as human persons, lacking the completeness that God is in
himself. Nonetheless, we instinctively
recognize that we are made for that completeness. If we could never achieve that completeness,
however, then our lives would be a total frustration. But God has made it so that we could enter
into that completeness—a completeness that we lost in the Garden of Eden, but
then was restored in Jesus Christ—and so, we can rejoice that the hope that we
have instinctively of experiencing that completeness will not disappoint, as
Saint Paul reminded us in our second reading, and thus worship God here with
joy, in spite of whatever difficulties we may be facing in our lives.
Friends, this joy
that we celebrate here today because of who God is in himself is the joy that
we must take with us as we enter back into this Ordinary Time. This is because, as missionary disciples of
God, we must make this good news known to all: that God, perfect in himself,
allows and deeply desires that we, his creatures, could know him and enter into
his divine life and, thus, find our fulfillment. And so, as we give thanks to him today in
this Eucharist—itself a taste of this perfect communion with him—let us ask for
the grace to make this good news known in our lives and thus make this earth a
foreshadowing of the perfect community of persons we will enjoy in eternal
life.
Given at Saint Mary Nativity Parish: Joliet, IN – June 15th,
2025
