The University of And

My toughest preaching assignment was a children’s sermon on the Trinity. I was serving as an associate pastor in my first call after seminary. Being an associate pastor generally means that you “get” to do a lot of things that the senior pastor doesn’t want to do. In most cases, that means children’s sermons.

I know some pastors love doing children’s sermons and are very good at it. I am not one of those pastors — God bless those who are. That’s probably because I lack the creativity to take a theological concept and distill it into an object lesson that will hold the attention of a group of small humans. Thankfully, I was ordained after the advent of the internet, so I was able to fake it pretty well.

I sat down to “write” my children’s sermon by pulling up a browser tab and typing in “children’s sermons, Trinity.” I was encouraged to see lots of results pop up. This was going to be easy. There were so many examples!

The problem came when I started to actually put my borrowed ideas on paper. I went through dozens of ideas. I tried using water, a three-leaf clover, light, and even an apple to explain how God is one and yet three. The problem was that every single metaphor turned out to be some sort of ancient heresy. The only way to explain the Trinity is to admit that it is a mystery where two things are true at the same time: God is both one and three.

Unfortunately, that isn’t very helpful for a children’s sermon. But it is pretty Lutheran.

One of my favorite aspects of Luther’s theology is his use of paradox. Luther asserts contradictory truths all the time. He argues that we are both sinners and saints at the same time. He says we are completely bound servants and yet also completely free.

These ideas don’t make any sense until you start thinking about them. Or better yet, living them. Thinking of myself as both a sinner and a saint may not seem logical, but I know it’s true because I live with myself every day—like when I have uncharitable thoughts during Morning Prayer (sorry, Christus Rex!).

Paradox is not easy. Human beings resist it because we crave certainty and predictability. It’s easier to fit everything into nice, neat categories that give us a sense of control—even though we know that control is not something we mortals truly possess.

We live in a time with very little patience for ambiguity and the kind of trust that paradox requires. The pressure to pick a side and separate ourselves from anyone different from us is immense—which is where the Trinity comes back in.

The Triune God is a model of both community and diversity. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one and yet three. Any attempt to separate the “Threeness” of God from the “Oneness” of God inevitably falls into one of those ancient heresies.

As creatures made in the image of God, community and diversity are in our DNA. And this isn’t some reductive argument that differences don’t matter. For a paradox to work, both things must be true. We can’t minimize differences for the sake of unity, nor can we eliminate all diversity in order to make community easier. Somehow, we are called to hold them together.

When I arrived on this campus, I quickly discovered that one of Valpo’s best and most defining attributes is its embrace of paradox. We hold together different Lutheran (and other faith) traditions on the same campus. We have both professional colleges and a rich liberal arts tradition. We uplift the importance of both Jerusalem and Athens. Valpo is also a place that values both community and diversity.

There are some who wonder whether Valpo can continue to hold together these seemingly paradoxical aspects of its identity. But I would argue that Valpo would cease to be Valpo if it didn’t continue to weave together these disparate threads.

Recently, I’ve heard many people on campus say that Valpo is the University of “and.” This is a place where you can be an engineer and a musician, a Christ College scholar and a nurse, a teacher and an athlete. The combinations are endless, and they are all possible because we are a Lutheran university that embraces paradox and its possibilities—not because it’s easy, but because it creates the kind of people the world desperately needs. People who reflect the image of the Triune God in which we are all created.

Over the next year, we will be celebrating Valpo’s Lutheran Centennial. Our theme verses (Hebrews 12:1-12) for the Centennial are full of paradoxes. I just discovered another one as I was finishing this essay.

Paul notes that as we run the race of life, we are “surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.” This cloud symbolizes all the faithful saints who are connected with one another and with us “in mystic sweet communion,” as the old hymn says. But within that community, there is also diversity. The cloud of witnesses comes from every time and place.

The same is true for the Valpo community. We are one community, connected to each other through Valpo, yet diverse in our experiences of this place.

We are the University of “and,” in all its complicated messiness. And thanks be to God for that.