Trinity Sunday is often seen as a challenging day to preach. But I don’t find it so; in fact I look forward to the festival. Trinity Sunday is one of the days during the church’s year when we really acknowledge the mystery of God. The Trinity, alongside the Resurrection, are two of the greatest mysteries within Christianity. Of the two I think that the Resurrection is harder to understand, because it speaks so powerfully of the radical transformation from death to life.

The most frequent formula we use to describe the Trinity occurs at the end of Matthew’s Gospel:

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Matthew 28.19)

These are the words which are used at baptisms.  The Trinity, more generally, is one way that has emerged, over the centuries, to describe a God who is both out there and in here. Who is both beyond the cosmos and contained in bread and wine, who was the originator of the universe and yet walked about as flesh and blood in Galilee. A God who is both transcendent and immanent.

Lying behind this duality is a question – how can an infinite God, who is love, who is outside and beyond time, connect with us, finite humans limited by the constraints of time and space?

Different religious traditions have different ways of overcoming this question. For example, within the Sufi traditions of Islam, there are saints – someone “marked by [special] divine favour … [and] holiness”, who is specifically “chosen by God and endowed with exceptional gifts, such as the ability to work miracles”. Within the Buddhist tradition there are bodhisattvas – people who are believed to have achieved enlightenment but stick around to help others towards Nirvana.

Christianity has a number of different ways to connect the divine with the human. Within the Catholic tradition the saints are believed to intercede for humanity.  But at the heart of our story is the belief that Jesus was God on earth, and that the Spirit is God, present with us now. They are both expressions of the divine. Or modes, persons, forms … whatever word fits.

The Nicene Creed, which we say every Sunday, is an attempt to describe the Trinity, using traditional language, which has not been changed since 325 CE because it kind of works.  I say ‘kind of’ because language about God is always inadequate. Always metaphorical.

But the language we use always defines and can limit how we understand God.

The expression denoting the Trinity we hear at the end of Matthew’s Gospel – Father Son and Holy Spirit –  is the earliest Trinitarian formula we know – and it has been in use ever since the earliest days of the church.

I wouldn’t want to lose it. But there are many, including me, who think that the words used are very patriarchal, and very male, and quite hierarchical. It gives rise to the image of God the Father which is we see in so many pictures – the old man with the beard, sometimes sitting on a cloud… Which is why, over the years, other ways of describing the Trinity have emerged.

I often use “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer” when I am giving a blessing, because to me it opens up a wider understanding of God, avoiding  the risks of the more traditional formula. Alternatively, the great prayer writer and translator of the Psalsm, Jim Cotter, suggested this:  “Life Giver, Pain Bearer, Love Maker.” Mother Julian speaks of the God who “makes, loves and keeps us.”

At morning prayer we use an inclusive Gloria. Instead of saying “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,” we say “Glory to God, Source of all Being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit.” I prefer using those words for the Gloria, because they give me a greater sense of the wideness of God’s love for the world God created.

Sometimes people change the gender, thus: Mother, Son and Holy Spirit. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is described using the female pronoun, although that is something many resist as it seems to essentialise  as feminine the qualities of the Holy Spirit, and therefore put femininess in a rather narrow box.

And of course the Holy Spirit is often depicted as a dove – so, not human at all. Whichever phrases are chosen, the different ways of describing the Trinity have the potential to open up our understanding of God and give us a deeper sense of the depth, and nearness, of the divine.

It feels exciting, and poetic, to play with different images of God. At the start of this blog is a famous picture from the National Gallery of Scotland, which is unusual in its depiction of the first person of the Trinity as a young man.

The Muslim tradition also struggles to find adequate words to describe God. There is a strong tradition known as the “99 names of God” – which are, apparently, the 99 ways God is described in the Qur’an.  For example:

Allah Ar-Rahmaan – the Beneficent.  Ar-Raheem – the Merciful. Al-Malik  – the King. Al-Quddus – the Most Sacred. As-Salam – The Source of Peace. Al-Mu’min – the Infuser of Faith. Al-Muhaymin – the Preserver of Safety.

But even ninety names is acknowledged not to be enough; for whatever we say about God, whatever words we use, are inadequate. As St Francis is reputed to have said:

Preach the Gospel however you can. Use words if you must!

The most important thing is that we communicate the God who is love, the God who calls for justice as the outworking of love, the God who is at the heart of every human being and all of creation.

What language is most helpful for you? What ideas about God might we develop by opening up the language we use in worship and prayer?

Here is a famous hymn, written by Revd. John Marriott at the beginning of the nineteenth century, breaking open the Trinity in words which are, to me, both familiar and fresh.

God, whose almighty word,
chaos and darkness heard,
and took their flight:
hear us, we humbly pray,
and where the gospel-day
sheds not its glorious ray,
let there be light!

Saviour, who came to bring
on your redeeming wing
healing and sight,
health to the sick in mind,
sight to the inly blind:
O now to all mankind
let there be light!

Spirit of truth and love,
life-giving, holy dove,
speed on your flight!
move on the water’s face
bearing the lamp of grace
and, in earth’s darkest place,
let there be light!

Gracious and holy Three,
glorious Trinity,
wisdom, love, might:
boundless as ocean’s tide
rolling in fullest pride
through the world
far and wide,
let there be light!