A God of all genders and none

There are times when the secular and sacred calendars cross paths in an interesting way, such as a couple of times in recent years when Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday have fallen on the same day, with Easter falling six weeks later on April Fool’s Day. Using the lens of one calendar to examine the assertion made by the other, and visa versa, can be an interesting spiritual exercise.

This year, Trinity Sunday falls on Father's Day, or, depending on one’s priorities, I suppose, Father’s Day falls on Trinity Sunday. Trinity Sunday is the day on which we celebrate the three aspects of the one God; the Creator, Son and Holy Spirit. And this particular Trinity Sunday comes as we this year mark the 1,700th anniversary of the original Nicene Creed. This is the creed that was hammered out by over 200 bishops at the Council of Nicaea, where they argued their way through various theological controversies, particularly regarding the nature of the Trinity, to settle upon a statement of Christianity’s foundational beliefs.

The earliest possible date on which Trinity Sunday can fall is May 17; the latest is June 20. How often it coincides with Father’s Day, however, is beyond me, so let’s seize the opportunity while we have it to see how these two different occasions can shape our thoughts this morning. And as we do so, the anniversary of the Nicene Council can keep us in mind of the centuries of tradition that have led us to this point.

Let’s first think about the language we use for the Trinity. Jesus described God as our father, and that has been and to a great extent continues to be the traditional name the church uses for God. But, as much as people know that God is beyond sex or gender, language matters. Constantly using masculine language for God shapes our mind, heart and spirit and inevitably limits our perception of the Holy. Such language helped undergird and enforce the patriarchal practices of the Roman Catholic church, from which we Anglicans sprung about 500 years ago, bringing much of that patriarchy with us.

But, Jesus said in today’s gospel reading:

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 the truth, for he will not speak on his own but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.

Reflecting on the text this week, this struck me as Jesus’s invitation for each generation to keep growing in their faith and, guided by the Holy Spirit, to understand what their present time demands from them as Christians.

Gradually, fortunately, our societies began to learn, or in some cases re-learn, the feminine face of God. We understood the harm of putting God in a boy-shaped box. Our language for God became more inclusive, and our church practices became more inclusive. The Book of Common Prayer offered us only Father, Son and Holy Ghost to name the Trinity, but our liturgies now include descriptors such as Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer, or Source, Word, and Spirit.

Women have been ordained priests in the Anglican Church of Canada since the 1970s - although that may feel like old news to many of us, it’s really not that long ago. The important work to re-orient our language away from gendered or restrictive norms continues robustly. Because they do it so gracefully, you are often likely unaware of the subtle but significant changes Lynley, Beth and Helen make in many of our Sunday morning hymns and prayers to bring the language in line with our commitment to inclusivity.

But here’s where today’s Father’s Day celebration brings with it an opportunity to reconsider the masculine face of God, not instead of feminine or gender-neutral imagery but alongside it. God is all genders, and beyond all genders. But as we individually and collectively strive toward a greater, more expansive vision of God than we may have grown up with, we must remember that God the Father can be for many a resonant image of comfort and protection. Of power and creativity. While my habit is to almost always use non-gendered language for God in my sermons, and I am led to believe that is also the preference of most folks in our pews, I am not in the camp that insist that nearly any mention of God the Father in liturgy is outdated or ill-suited to the church of today.

Perhaps that is because I am just young enough to take for granted the hard gains won by women in the church; when I was ordained, it hardly occurred to me that just a few decades earlier it would not have been an option for me. The battle for equality between the sexes, in our context at least, need not rage so fiercely as it once did.

Perhaps it is because that as I was raising my three boys I worried about the surrounding culture that considered it acceptable to constantly demean or poke fun at males and their ways. Typical was a greeting card I once saw in the Hallmark store during that period: "How many men does it take to make a milkshake?" it asked on the front cover. And on the inside, the answer: "It depends how many you can fit in a blender." I didn’t find it funny, then or now. But the message that men could be lumped together as a stereotypical whole and derided or dismissed was woven throughout the media and messaging of the day.

Perhaps I am OK with references to God the Father in our liturgy because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that when society talks only about toxic masculinity without encouraging boys and men by lifting up positive masculinity, a growing percentage of our male population will likely feel hopeless, helpless and without a place in the world. That can manifest as depression or a lack of motivation, or it can look like the backlash we are seeing in some places and spaces, where individuals or groups of men are reclaiming a sense of empowerment in aggressive or unlawful ways. It is my hope and prayer that our society learns to better support men and boys by offering recognition of, and healthy channels for, their gifts and strengths, not just on Father's Day but all year 'round and at all stages of their life.

It seems part of the human condition to suffer the pendulum swings of politics or culture; whether it is the fight for equality or some other pressing issue, we often address one problem by over-correcting, and then swing back when that has created problems of its own. Every time the pendulum swings, some harm or other is experienced by people at one end or other of the spectrum, or sometimes all the way along it. Perhaps the Church can model for the world a different approach; one that listens with compassion in all directions and tries to make space for Christian community across differences and diversity. The Anglican church in particular is known as a "big tent" church - we shelter people of many different outlooks and perspectives under our roof.

Perhaps, too, we can learn something from the establishment of the Mother’s Day holiday. The first Mother’s Day wasn’t invented by Hallmark Cards, nor was it an occasion for giving gifts or bringing Mom scrambled eggs in bed. It had its beginnings in the work of Ann Jarvis, who cared for wounded soldiers on both sides of the American civil war, and fellow peace activist Julia Ward Howe, who urged the creation of a "Mother's Day For Peace" on which mothers nationwide would band together to demand that their husbands and sons no longer be killed in wars. The Mother’s Day they sought was not an excuse to hail their own virtues, but a platform to defend the lives of the men they loved.

Similarly, if any of us have been given a voice, a vote, a bank account or a talent, how can we use it for the common good, for the flourishing of friend and stranger alike? It is this spirit of interdependence, of mutual loving relationship, that is the key to our understanding of the Trinity, regardless of what language we use for the three aspects of God. In the Trinity, God sets the table; Jesus invites us home for dinner; and the Holy Spirit reminds us to say thank you before sending us out into the neighbourhood to invite others.

The threefold God offers us courage and comfort, passion and purpose. May we remember these gifts with trust and with gratitude, and may they spur us to be a force for good in the world, in the name of the God who delights in us; the Son who walks with us; and the Spirit that enlivens us. Amen.