You wouldn't know it to look at my 'garden', which is momentarily home to a lone little cherry tomato plant still boldly growing next to the remains of three sadly departed cucumber plants and lying 15 feet away from three struggling strawberry plants.
But truly I have been growing things. They are all inside the house. Safe in little peat pots, hidden from the brutal wind and scorching sun.
I have been watching these things all grow from seeds into little plants. I am fascinated by the whole process. Particularly the way each seed (regardless of what it is, avocado, basil, pepper, chili, bean, broccoli, spinach, or carrot) sprout in the same way. For days there was nothing to see while roots spread out, and then suddenly, a hint of green, and by the next day two little leaves were poking out of the soil on a stem that seems to fragile to support even one leaf let alone two, yet there they are. Two little leaves branching out from the root to reach out to the world and gather the sunlight.
I'm too scared to plant all these little growing things in the garden. It's so safe in the house. Outside in the little patch of ground that I inevitably forget about, how will they survive? In the house, on my kitchen table, I can't help but remember them.
But everyday they grow more, and that growth allows them to lean even more to the outside world that waits, and the sun that lives there beckoning to these fragile little green things. They need to be planted. They need to spread roots and reach their leaves further up into the sky.
I'm encouraged by the fields I pass day after day. Watching dirt suddenly erupt into thousands of tiny little plants with two little leaves reaching out, facing the wind, the sun, the animals. It is what they are meant to do. The fields give me hope that my little plants will survive in my little garden. Despite me.
There is something else I have seen. Now maybe it is just the fact that I have been trying to think of a way to preach on the Trinity all week, but I am struck at how each plant begins in the same way. Roots, stem, and those two little leaves.
Now I am not one to try to find a metaphor for the Trinity in everything from water, to life roles, to plants be it apples, clovers, or newly sprouted seeds. However, what has struck me is how essential the idea of three parts really is in our world. Of course that is why so many of the natural worlds phenomena have lent themselves to be models in our attempt to explain this complex understanding of God. So many things in the world have three parts, or three states; peel, flesh, seed; core, mantle, crust; solid, liquid, vapor.
The natural world is not the only place we see this occur either. Think of how many of our relationships exist in this pattern. Father, mother, child. Student, teacher, parent(s). Wife, Husband, God.
There is something about three parts making up a whole that makes it so much stronger, so much more able to face adversity, strife, and difficulty. Like my little plants, the three parts help it be grounded, upright, and reaching out and up to the sky, without fear of the wind overcoming the whole of it.
None of these things is a perfect model of the Trinity of course. After all, if I would have to hazard a guess, I would say that our creator modeled this idea of three parts making up the whole, three beings forming one relationship, from the pre-existence of the Trinity and the communion that had always been.
"I still have many things to tell you, but you cannot bear them now." These are the words Jesus speaks in John 16:12. There is so much that we can not bear or understand now. Yet we struggle and grapple and fight with it all anyway. We try so hard to understand this idea of Trinity that I think we fail to recognize that anything we grasp hold of to illustrate it will always pale in comparison, because they are only reflections of the original. Human kind wants to know, to understand, to have the control over it by having the knowledge of it all. It is so hard to let it go of the need to put our heads around the knowledge and just accept what is.
Well my little plants have to be put into the ground. I have to trust that God created them in a way that will enable them to survive in the environment they were meant to live in.
As for preaching on the Trinity? I suppose my message is less one of trying to understand, and more one of living into the blessing we have in Gd who can relate to us in three such unique ways, and who cares enough about us to do so.
