READING:
John 16:12–15
 

Trinity Sunday

Under the Stars: Living the Mystery of the Trinity

A beautiful story

In Charlie Mackesy’s beautiful story The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, we’re invited into a world shaped not by answers, but by presence: by kindness, by love, by the gentle work of being with one another. It’s a simple tale, filled with simple truths, but something about it lingers in the heart. Each character brings something different: the boy with his wondering, the mole with his sweet simplicity, the fox with his silence and trust, and the horse with his strength and wisdom. Together, they create a space where no one has to perform, fix, or impress. A space where just being together is enough.

There’s a moment where they sit quietly beneath the stars. No one speaks, yet everything is being said. And in that moment of shared stillness, truth doesn’t need to be taught it is simply known. Not imposed. Not explained. Just received.

That moment under the stars feels like a glimpse of the Trinity.

Not a complicated puzzle

Because the Trinity is not a complicated puzzle, we’re meant to solve it’s a relationship with God that we’re invited to join. And to enter into a flow of love with the Divine that is never controlling, never rushed, always attentive. The Trinity is not a theory to study but a way of being. God’s way of being that invites us into a life shaped by love, gentleness, and shared presence.

The account in John’s Gospel that we read today, Jesus says to his disciples, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” That’s not said by Jesus in a frustrated way. It’s an act a kindness to his followers. Jesus doesn’t demand that they or we understand everything about the mystery and nature of God at once. He trusts the slow unfolding of understanding and a deepening of our faith, our relationship with God, each other and the natural world itself. Jesus promises the Holy Spirit, who will come and gently guide them, and us, into all truth.

This is how God moves: the Father shares all things with the Son; the Son, in turn, entrusts them to the Spirit; and the Spirit brings them to us…. not with force, but with love.

It’s not a top-down encounter. And it’s not a heavenly relay race. It’s a relationship: a divine pattern of giving and receiving and abiding. The Spirit doesn’t come to shout new commands but to echo the heart of the Son, who echoes the heart of the Father. It’s all love, moving between persons. God with God with us.

A man called Augustine

There was a man called St Augustine, a Christian thinker and bishop who lived over 1,600 years ago in what is now Algeria. He’s one of the most influential voices in the history of the Church, despite, in his early years his devote Christian mother being very worried that he would never become a Christian. Augustine loved asking deep questions: questions about God, about the human heart, and about how we come to know love and truth. He spent much of his life thinking and writing about the mystery of the Trinity.

Indeed, St Augustine spent much of his life reflecting on this mystery. He knew that the Trinity was beyond full explanation, but he did not believe that it beyond our knowing. He suggested that we find the image of the Trinity reflected in ourselves: in our memory, our understanding, and our will to love. These three live within us. All connected, distinct, inseparable. And so it is with God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. One love shared and poured out. Not abstract, but near. Not distant but dwelling deep within.

Augustine also gave this gentle reminder: “If you have understood, it is not God you have understood.” That’s not to call into question our searching…but it’s to free us from needing to pin God down: to believe that we know all the answers. What matters is not that we master the mystery of God or that we can define the Trinity, but rather that we make space for God to live in us.

An invitation

So the real invitation of Trinity Sunday is not, “Do you understand the mystery of the Trinity ?” but
Will you continue to search and be aware of the relationship of God with us?
Will you stay with the mystery, rather than rushing to explain it away?
Will you stay with the silence, and allow the Spirit to speak in ways words can’t?
Will you stay with others, especially when they’re hard to understand or slow to change… just as the Trinity stays with us?

Built for relationship

Because if God is Trinity, then no one is ever alone. If God is Trinity, then we were made not for control or certainty: but for relationship. For companionship. For love.

And that changes everything. Just like The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse we sit under the stars with our trinitarian God and become aware of being loved and at one: with all. And we become full of wonder and reverence or a truly awesome God who come amongst is as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

We are not asked to solve the Trinity. We are asked to live it. To live lives shaped by love given and received. To walk beside each other, as God walks beside us. To let truth come when we are ready. To listen. To trust. To dwell.

So maybe the best way to remember Trinity Sunday is to do what the boy and his friends did under the stars: to stop, to sit, and to simply be: to be with God, with others, and with the quiet, radiant truth that love is always enough.

Amen.

Picture at the top is from the website of Charlie Mackesy