The Indwelling of the Trinity and the Interior Life (Trinity Sunday C.)

 

When my mother was living in our parish, I always knew what people were saying! Not that anyone would complain about me directly, but there’s always be someone who’d tell her “I think it’s dreadful what Mrs. So-and-So is saying about your wonderful son.”

When Mom agreed with the critics, she was quick to let me know and to offer good advice.

One time she said that some folks were bothered by my absences from the parish. She said I should write about my travels in the bulletin and tell them where I was going.

That worked well, but now we don’t have a bulletin! So I am going to tell you where I was this week, and why.

At Archbishop Miller’s suggestion, I went to a retreat in the U.S. that was offered for those who direct programs for permanent deacons, as I do in the Archdiocese.

I wasn’t sure why we needed a special retreat, but I quickly found out. It was organized by an institute dedicated to the spiritual renewal of the permanent diaconate at the Franciscan University of Steubenville. Its focus is simple but profound: making the interior life of deacons the priority.

In training good men like Deacons Steve and Marty, I have not worried too much about their interior life; we spend more time on making sure they can preach well and serve generously.

During the retreat and Deacon James Keating's lecture that preceded it, I became convinced that I often get things the wrong way around—and not only for deacons, but myself as well.

The spiritual life must be number one, not just for priests and deacons but for every baptized Christian. Jesus tells us as much in the famous story of Martha and Mary. We all remember what he told Martha, the worker-bee. “Mary has chosen the better part.”

We are getting ready for some serious pastoral planning, to plot the course for Christ the Redeemer Parish as the pandemic ends. We’ll ask how the Lord wants us to grow in faith, rebuild community, form disciples, and care for others in new circumstances.

But after this week’s retreat, I hope we will start by thinking about our interior life. And there’s no better day on which to start than today’s feast of the Holy Trinity.

I could preach for hours on the truths contained in what Christians believe about God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—but if those truths stay outside us, they’re just theology.

When we look at how our faith in the Blessed Trinity changes us inside, we start to realize the power and importance of this doctrine.

Today’s readings aren’t easy to unpack. But we can go straight to the heart of the matter with one phrase from St. Paul in the second reading: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given us.”

What does he mean? Jesus tells us in St. John’s Gospel: “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them and make our home with them.” (Jn 14:23)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it clearly: this means that “even now we are called to be a dwelling for the Most Holy Trinity.” (CCC 260)

Christian life doesn’t get more “interior” than that.

And yet how many of us are aware each day that the Father, Son, and Spirit are living and moving at the center of our being? And in times of trouble, how often do we stop to realize we are never alone? Never without someone to talk with, never without someone to comfort us.

Someone once said that Catholics who understand the indwelling presence of the Trinity can pray to God within their hearts as if before a Tabernacle.

What if this ancient teaching is new to you? I wouldn’t be surprised, because it’s a well-kept secret of our faith, for some reason. What should we do next?

The late Jesuit priest Father John Hardon lists three implications of the indwelling presence of God in our souls. They offer a good action plan.

First, gratitude. Thank God for having chosen to dwell in you. Thank God for making us creatures in whom He can dwell, so that He can know and love us the way that He loves Himself.  

Second, awareness. We need to be aware of the special, intimate presence of God in our souls. If we are not as aware of God’s indwelling, it is not because He does not want us to be aware; it can only be we aren’t recognizing his presence and responding to him.

Thirdly, conversation. Prayer is many things; but the most fundamental thing is a conversation. God by His indwelling is constantly talking to us; that’s also clear in today’s Gospel, where Jesus tells us that the Spirit will guide us into all truth. He will speak to us, precisely in the depth of our hearts where he is dwelling.

The path to discovering God within is through prayer. But we are not always listening.

Father Hardon offers wonderful clear-cut advice: “Search, scour, dig, beg God to make you more conscious of His presence.”

How’s that for a challenge? “Search, scour, dig, and beg.”

If you’ll excuse the image, it’s almost like a treasure hunt: God dwelling in me can be the “pearl of great price” to which Jesus refers in the well-known parable of the Kingdom.

The rewards of finding the treasure are numerous, beginning with a deep intimacy with God. But as St. Paul tells us today, there are other blessings as well—knowing God in our hearts makes it possible to suffer with Christ and in Christ, and to find hope in every situation.

Finally, a specific proposal. If you want to experience and understand God’s indwelling presence, but you’re not that comfortable with silent prayer, join us for the next Water in the Desert, this coming Saturday, June 18, at 7 p.m.

Water in the Desert is an invitation to a deeper interior life, which is the great promise of today’s feast to each of us.