As we come to the end so we come to the beginning. All Christ's earthly revelations now made with the passing of Easter and the fulfilling of Pentecost and the coming of Ordinary time, we begin again. The long season of ordinary time begins again. Ordinary time is that firm liturgical season marked not by the progression of Christ's story but our story in Christ. There is now no biography as if we are tracing the progression of Jesus' life. Now it is our lives moving in ordinary round integrating what he has taught.
In our prayer this day we return to John.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.
John 1:1-4, 9-10, 14
I am reminded as we enter the season past Jesus' biography of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent and Easter, we enter into deeper story. Now we liturgically enter the daily world again to relearn or learn again what it is to intentionally live in Him. Having seen the Father create, the Son come as Word of love in Flesh, having heard the Spirit move often but late in the birth of the early Church we come to trace their tracings in us.
The author of John's Gospel will go on to say, "The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." John 1:17
On this Trinity Sunday, this launch pad into Ordinary time I am reminded of a word of wisdom once given as I entered a season of my own intimacy. "Never go to bed angry with each other. Resolve any anger before you sleep. That is all I know." I have not always lived by this word of wisdom which reflects Proverbs 15:18 and Ephesians 29:11. And when I have failed at this there is no easy sleep, no healing of the breach until we talk. I may be right or wrong (the law) but I have failed at love (grace and truth).
Put simply, Trinity Sunday celebrates that God is woven all in all. God who initiated creation, saw to its ongoing process, was revealed intimately in Jesus and his days, remains the Spirit and breath of faithful life. We can have law and order only or we can have forgiveness and love as well (grace and truth). We choose. We choose daily. We choose best before our head hits the pillow or later when we rise. Law is a help but grace is the healer and we know grace in Jesus.
So now we enter the long contemplation, Ordinary time, "after Pentecost" reminded that the One God can be revealed in our daily choosing.
My Trinity Sunday gift to you is this poem.
In the Beginning by Dylan Thomas
In the beginning was the three-pointed star,
One smile of light across the empty face,
One bough of bone across the rooting air,
The substance forked that marrowed the first sun,
And, burning ciphers on the round of space,
Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.
In the beginning was the pale signature,
Three-syllabled and starry as the smile,
And after came the imprints on the water,
Stamp of the minted face upon the moon;
The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail
Touched the first cloud and left a sign.
In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark,
A three-eyed, red-eyed spark, blunt as a flower,
Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas,
Burst in the roots, pumped from the earth and rock
The secret oils that drive the grass.
In the beginning was the word, the word
That from the solid bases of the light
Abstracted all the letters of the void;
And from the cloudy bases of the breath
The word flowed up, translating to the heart
First characters of birth and death.
In the beginning was the secret brain.
The brain was celled and soldered in the thought
Before the pitch was forking to a sun;
Before the veins were shaking in their sieve,
Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light
The ribbed original of love.
One smile of light across the empty face,
One bough of bone across the rooting air,
The substance forked that marrowed the first sun,
And, burning ciphers on the round of space,
Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.
In the beginning was the pale signature,
Three-syllabled and starry as the smile,
And after came the imprints on the water,
Stamp of the minted face upon the moon;
The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail
Touched the first cloud and left a sign.
In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark,
A three-eyed, red-eyed spark, blunt as a flower,
Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas,
Burst in the roots, pumped from the earth and rock
The secret oils that drive the grass.
In the beginning was the word, the word
That from the solid bases of the light
Abstracted all the letters of the void;
And from the cloudy bases of the breath
The word flowed up, translating to the heart
First characters of birth and death.
In the beginning was the secret brain.
The brain was celled and soldered in the thought
Before the pitch was forking to a sun;
Before the veins were shaking in their sieve,
Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light
The ribbed original of love.
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