Most ministers I know avoid Trinity Sunday like a plague of Egyptian locusts.  A couple of years back I decided it was time to stop the avoidance and engage with the challenge; for the most part people seem to appreciated it.  One of the challenges, irrespective of the age of your congregation, is finding suitable illustrations, well, assuming of course you want to go that way of course.  Many of those I found on a quick web trawl are familiar - the shamrock leaf, the three states of water, the dreaded trifle (which I'd never heard of until I began training as a minister and its badness has stuck firmly in my brain) and this time I found eggs, apples and even jaffa cakes!  The problem with these images is that they slip into modalism - three modes or functions of God - three people rather than the three personae.  Trouble is, the more theologically orthodox concepts are utterly impossible to explain or illustrate, which is why I suspect we live with the modalism.

Evidently St Patrick held up his shamrock/clover leaf and said "is it three-in-one or one-in-three?" His hearers allegedly said 'both,' which is about as good, and non-modal, as you're going to get.

So, I'm back to mulling over what I'll do for the "all together" part of our service and thinking the shamrock is a pretty good contender, all things considered.  Perhaps we over-rationalise mystery, perhaps we stetch metaphors to breaking point, and perhaps we're either too fearful or too ignorant of heresy to find creative means of exploring the wonder of a triune God?

What is the difference?  Probably not a lot... it seems to be mainly a matter of nomenclature.

I think it is probably that gnats bite with an English accent, wheas as midges bite in Scots.

There are, now and then, moments when the church visible and invisible, militant and triumphant, now and not yet, are palpably one.  It is one of those mysterion (sorry no Greek letters on this platform) that I find more as I get older and have been in more congregations in more roles; it probably has something to do with having done dozens of funerals and now and then singing hymns or songs that connect me with people, times and places (some of my friends find it rather wierd that I date pop songs by what I was doing and where; if there's no association I can't date them.  Increasingly pop songs link me to certain crematoria!!).

Last evening was one of those moments, as we we sang the old redemption hymn It Is Well. I learned this hymn for a funeral because it was the favourite of the deceased, a lovely older man in my former congregation.  Tom (not his real name) had served in WWII and was twice held as a POW in Japan.  What he saw and experienced he never told, though in his final days, in our conversations, he was able to lay down some of it before he died.  This song had sustained him through horrors I cannot begin to imagine.

I like to think that as we sang the hymn last evening somewhere, just out of reach, he was singing it too...

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows, like sea-billows, roll,
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
It is well, it is well with my soul, with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And has shed His own blood for my soul.
Chorus

My sin - O the bliss of this glorious thought! -
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more:
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
Chorus

For me be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live!
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
Chorus

But, Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming, we wait;
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
O trump of the angel! O voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope! blessèd rest of my soul!
Chorus

Horatio G Spafford (1828-1888)

Alas I forgot to take my camera this morning - between the last post and walking out of the house I had too many other thoughts!

The Gathering Place looked amazing when I walked in and saw the Pentecost drapes - crimson with gold flames - and two five-armed candelabra with red candles waiting to be lit.  Once the table had been dressed in red, yellow, orange and gold, and the cake and balloons added, all was set for worship.

Since I arrived last autumn we have had to increase the number of chairs slowly but steadily, as most weeks we now have around 70 people present.  Today the 'extra chairs' on standby were used up and during the first hymn there was a foray into the adjacent room for even more.  What a fantastic problem to have.  The estimate is around 90 people.  Given how many were away for one reason or another that was amazing.  I often say numbers don't mean a lot, and they don't, but it is always a boost to the preacher when extra chairs have to be brought out.  Better than the numbers was the warm (as in friendly, as well as physically almost hot), open atmosphere with laughter, singing and, when appropriate, quiet.

It was great to have our occasional band playing for us to augment the piano and choir.  It was lovely to hear music sung in other languages and from many different cultures.

The balloons were a bit of a mixed blessing as a lot of them popped when people blew them up... next time I'll opt for cheap party balloons rather than gold helium quality balloons.  Although having said that, it did remind me of a little 'verse' I read in some SU notes years back...

If we are all mind we dry up

If we are all spirit we blow up

If we are mind and spirit we grow up

Best bit of the day seemed to be the bubbles.  I have to confess, I love seeing the air full of glistening, rainbow-hued orbs and feeling the cool touch of liquid on my skin when they burst.  Somehow they seemed to appeal to all ages and opinions... and I think we really did pray with them.

I am looking forward to this evening's choral celebration of Pentecost, which will be very different and another expression of the joy and vitality God's Spirit brings.

One of the many things I really appreciated about my former cogregation was their willingness not merely to tolerate but to embrace some of my more whacky approaches to worship.  One such Sunday I was chatting to the duty deacon about the forthcoming service and said, 'people will either hate it or love it.'  Quick as a flash she said, 'so, it's a bit like marmite then.'  And a new concept was born - the marmite service.

Today will be a marmite service of sorts - a large dose of Catriona-madness with some Gathering Place familiar festal touches.  Above all it is a celebration of God's gift of Pentecost... courage and confidence to be and do what the church is called to be and do.  So that must make it champagne marmite I reckon.

Photos may follow.