Have you ever written a poem, or painted a picture, or worked on a sculpture? Then you will know how it begins. There is a block of marble, or a blank canvas, or a blank page. You stare at it and consider the possibilities. You turn over in your mind how to begin. And then, once you have carefully thought about it, you find something else to do. Make coffee. Check messages etc. Sadly, when you return, the canvas or the page or the block of marble is the same as when you left it. No invisible angel has written the words or painted the picture or chiseled the stone for you. 

So it was two years ago, as I sat down to write about the Holy Trinity. When I eventually put pen to paper, I was prompted by an unexpected source. Sitting at my desk, staring into space, I heard the sound of birdsong. It was beautifully clear and melodious. At first I thought it was coming from outside. It was like a symphony, unlike anything I had heard before. There were lovely trills, and clear chirps breaking off into complicated melodies. 

I slowly turned around in my chair and looked out the window, but saw nothing. I realized then that the birdsong was coming from behind me. I got out of my chair and walked slowly toward the fireplace - the sound was coming from the chimney; the bird must have been on top of it. 

I sat down again and looked at the readings for Trinity Sunday. There were the words of Isaiah staring at me: the seraphs with six wings, calling to one another saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory”. A bird - a dove - is a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Could it be that the Spirit of God was singing to me at that moment? You might think I am mad, but that’s what I thought. God was giving me a private concert in birdsong. 

I turned to the gospel reading from John. “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” When I hear these words, I want to rejoice in the life which is God’s gift to me: a life illumined by the light of Christ and guided by the Holy Spirit. 

I began to write: “I want to be submerged in the love of the Holy Trinity, the threefold mystery of God, a unity of three persons, penetrating the world with divine energy. Like light spinning into a circle, the Holy Trinity illuminates creation with the life of heaven - God in three persons, indivisible, indestructible, ineffable, immortal Holy Trinity.”

My previously blank page now filled up with words inspired by the music from without. I tried to make the words sing, rather than plonking them down like chords on a piano. When speaking about the Holy Trinity, there are two options: the practical or the poetic. The practical is when you talk about the “wind in the trees,” “three leafed clover,” “water, ice, steam” etc. The poetic is less precise, but in some ways more satisfying. I’m not sure my words matched the virtuosity of my feathered friend, but I made an attempt.

There is a time for speaking and a time for remaining silent. Our speaking about God is an attempt to acknowledge and understand the presence of God. Our silence, on the other hand, allows us to comprehend God in another way, when our words will stop and our songs will be stilled, when there will be another beginning, and the voice of God will be our new song. At such times, we will enter the mystery of the Trinity and discover a life that is eternal and unchanging, if we listen for it.

Father David