Trinity Sunday 2020 Trinity Episcopal Church Newtown, CT
Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Ps. 8; 2 Cor. 13:11-13; Matthew 28:16-20
If these words from Matthew’s gospel sound familiar to you, they should for they are the baptismal formula you hear at every baptism. Scooping up warm water from the baptismal font with my hand and pouring it over the head of a baby, youth or adult I then say, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Whether we understand it or not, through baptism we are immersed into the whole being of God making this Trinitarian language foundational to our Christian faith in God. “God in three persons, blessed Trinity.”
And yet, just because Matthew uses these words, do not be fooled into believing that the early Christians had this doctrine of the Trinity all figured out. Far from it. It was a couple of centuries after Matthew wrote his Gospel that the church needed to set to pen this doctrine, this statement of Christian faith. “Probably about all that Matthew knows in his day is that Christians must speak devoutly of Father, Son and Holy Spirit and that such talk did not violate the Jewish insistence upon belief in the one true God.”
Matthew had plenty of other pressing challenges—primarily how to get the timid followers of Jesus in his day to venture out into the frightening world to share with the gospel. Motivating them to take seriously Jesus’ Great Commission of teaching new disciples to act in the ways Jesus taught—loving our neighbors as ourselves, respecting the dignity of every human being, working for justice and peace. And not just in their hometown, among the people who speak and act and look just like them.
Rather these timid disciples are to go out and in the name of Jesus, make disciples of all nations. Someone likened this to a pastor today standing in front of most congregations—many of them small and with mixed motives and uncertain convictions—and telling them, “Go into the world and cure cancer, clean up the environment, establish world peace.” And that is the very point of this gospel message. The very fact that the task is utterly impossible throws the disciples completely into relying on God for strength, mercy, love and courage.
On this Trinity Sunday 2020 we are being challenged as a country, as a community, and as a church to confront the pandemic of systemic racism and white privilege. The realities of racism are undeniable—seen most recently in the tragic and inexcusable deaths of George Floyd in Minnesota, Jose Soto in Connecticut, Breonna Taylor in Kentucky, Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia and sadly this week Manuel Ellis in Tacoma, Washington. As our bishops avowed this week, “such violence is unacceptable and contrary to the will of God and the promise of justice and freedom central to our country’s ideals.”
Our church leaders are emphatic that “we must not let the realities of COVID-19 distract us from speaking out against, and working to dismantle, the forces of racism and white supremacy that continue to infect our lives and our nation.”
I concur that “inaction and silence feed into the legacy of white supremacy and that silence is complicity.” I also agree that “to be the Beloved Community of Jesus, we must believe and act in a way that recognizes every person is created in the image of God. It also means that we will speak out when we see the dignity of another person being disrespected. And it means that we will do our personal work to address our own places of both privilege and prejudice.”
And yet, to acknowledge that I am part of this legacy of white supremacy is difficult, shameful even. My great-aunt, Ethel Montgomery spent much of her life meticulously researching our Montgomery family history primarily through the branches of the Wingfields and Terrells. I have always been proud of my Southern heritage, except for the fact that my ancestors owned slaves. A reality I discovered unexpectedly in 1984 when my husband was the pastor of a small Baptist church in Tyrone, Georgia.
Culling through the history books of Philips Mill Baptist Church, which were extensive, I was thrilled to see the names of some of my Wingfield and Terrell relatives dating back to 1785. And yet there on the pages of history, much to my horror and shame, I saw the list of the Terrell slaves: Patrick, Fortune, Aby, Patty, Lucy, Guffey, Sarah, Patsy. No last names because these black people were the property of my white ancestor.
Sadly, this pattern of my family being served by black people did not end in the 1700’s. It continued well into the 20th century with the black women who worked for us cleaning, ironing, and helping with our meals. Granted it’s hard to unlearn what one sees and hears as a child. Nonetheless, I know this is my personal work to do—to continue doing throughout my lifetime. Reconciling the past by working for justice today, doing my part to dismantle racism and white supremacy.
This is also your work to do, together as a church and a community. For as our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry reminded us this week, “Our long-term commitment to racial justice and reconciliation is embedded in our identity as baptized followers of Jesus.” As a black man, Curry understands the anger in our streets today. And yet his clarion call is that we must still choose love.
“Now,” declares Bishop Curry, “is the time for a national renewal of the ideals of human equality, liberty, and justice for all. Now is the time to commit to cherishing and respecting all lives, and to honoring the dignity and infinite worth of every child of God. Now is the time for all of us to show — in our words, our actions, and our lives — what love really looks like.”
“Opening and changing hearts does not happen overnight” says Curry. “The Christian race is not a sprint; it is a marathon. Our prayers and our work for justice, healing and truth-telling must be unceasing.
One of my greatest regrets in retiring at the end of this month is that we haven’t done more at Trinity to address the sin of racism and white privilege. However, I want you to know there’s momentum afoot in our country like never before. More white people speaking out against racism and white supremacy. Many are ready to delve more deeply into systemic change that is so needed.
The Episcopal Church in Connecticut is in the beginning stages of planning an offering related to this work and will have more information to share in the coming weeks. Members of the Newtown Interfaith Council of which I am active, issued a statement to the Bee this week which reads in part that:
“All of us have a contribution to make in the healing of our country. We can calmly and courageously work to root out any presumption of superiority we may harbor in our hearts and minds over people of another background, especially people of color. All of us can avoid discordant ways of communication that poison the social commons and create barriers to people of color. We can and must be willing to patiently listen to the experiences of those who have suffered the indignities of racism. Their stories are also the story of our nation. All of us can work within the institutions we have influence within to examine those policies and procedures that may stifle the dignity of others, especially people of color. The time is now.”
Yes! The time is now!
“Let us recommit ourselves to following in the footsteps of Jesus, the way that leads to healing, justice and love.” Quote from Michael Curry
Sermon sources: commentary on Matthew by Tom Long in Feasting on the Word, pp 45-49; ECF Vestry Papers notice June 1, 2020; Thursday, May 28, 2020; “We Cannot Be Silent” Statement from the Bishops of the Episcopal Church in Connecticut; Presiding Bishop Curry’s opinion piece in The Washington Post on Sunday, May 31, 2020