There is an unmistakable connection between this week’s Old Testament lesson and the Gospel passage. Both are about call and discipleship. In the first, Elisha is called to follow Elijah and become his successor. In the second, an unnamed ‘someone’ professes a desire to follow Jesus. Between the two, however, there is this striking difference. Whereas Elijah is happy to let Elisha first bid farewell to his parents, Jesus seems to condemn the same desire in those who want to follow him, as something that renders them ‘unfit’.
     This passage in Luke (and a similar one in Matthew) is easily taken to mean that serious Christian discipleship requires us to abandon family and ordinary life. This is how those drawn to monastic life have often interpreted it. Yet if this is right, the cost of discipleship is far too high for most people. Certainly, the vast majority of those who have called themselves Christians have not made this sacrifice. Are they self-deceived?
      As we think about this issue, It is helpful to recall last’s week’s Gospel. There Jesus expressly tells the demoniac who has been cured, and who wants to follow him, to return to his family. It is enough that he should give thanks for what God has done for him. Acknowledging the redemptive power of Jesus, this episode clearly implies, is wholly compatible with fulfilling the demands of domestic life.

​A great shift in theological thinking is to be observed between the Old and the New Testaments. For much of the Old Testament, God is conceived in ethnic or tribal terms; God is our God, meaning, the God with whom Abraham and his descendants have entered into an agreement. God agrees to show the Israelites special favour and protection, and in return, Israelites promise to worship God in the right way. When they don’t, retribution is certain to ensue. That is almost always what calls forth prophetic warnings.
 
Here and there in the book of the prophet Isaiah (three different prophets, probably) we catch glimpses of a less ethnic conception of God, but in this week’s Old Testament lesson, Isaiah clearly re-affirms the old restrictions, and condemns “a rebellious people, who walk in a way that is not good. . .  sacrificing in gardens, offering incense on bricks . . . eating swine's flesh, with broth of abominable things in their vessels”. “I will repay their iniquities and their ancestors' iniquities”, Isaiah hears God say. Punishment always falls short of outright destruction, however, because just as wine can be made from a small cluster of grapes, so God can “bring forth descendants from Jacob, and from Judah inheritors of my mountains”.

• Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 and Psalm 8  • 
• Romans 5:1-5  • 
• John 16:12-15

The Sunday after Pentecost is unique in the Church’s year. Whereas every other holy day celebrates an event or a person, Trinity Sunday celebrates a theological doctrine – and what is more, a doctrine that is very perplexing. The God in whom Christians believe, it holds, is ‘Three in One’ and ‘One in Three’.  This seems to defy even the most basic principles of arithmetic. ​

​How can anything be both three things and only one thing? Yet that is what the doctrine obliges Christians to hold. Furthermore, this is not some optional extra that we may or may not choose to go along with. Since the fourth century, when the Creeds were finalized, the Doctrine of the Holy Trinity has been central to all the major branches of the Christian Church – Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran and Reformed. There are Unitarian churches who deny it, certainly, but these have always been in a small minority.
               Why has Trinitarianism been thought so crucial? The answer is revealed in part by this week’s readings. The Epistle and the Gospel comprise two short and familiar passages. The first comes from Paul’s most important letter – his Letter to the Romans. Paul wrote this several centuries before theologians came up with carefully formulated doctrines, and over a thousand years before Trinity Sunday became a fixture in the Church's Calendar. So here, we must say, Paul is not advancing a complex theological proposition, but simply trying to capture, and convey, his own profound experience of what it means to be a Christian. Trinitarianism arises because in doing so, he simply cannot avoid talking about God, and about Jesus, and about the Holy Spirit, all in equal measure.

The English word ‘enthusiasm’ does not, generally speaking, have religious overtones. It is most likely to be used in the context of sport or some personal interest. But in fact it comes from Greek words meaning "possessed by a god". The special kind of zeal or ardour that results from divine inspiration is exactly what the disciples display in this week’s passage from Acts. Possessed by the Spirit of God, they displayed such 'enthusiasm' that passers-by stopped to stare, and concluded that people acting in this way in a public place must be drunk.

​     The Feast of Pentecost is observed six weeks after Easter and commemorates this event. Though it no longer has anything like the same profile as Christmas and Easter, even among practicing Christians, it is in fact the third major festival of the Christian year, and no less important than the other two. Why is it so important? 

The answer lies in today’s Gospel. The passage begins with a request – ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied’. Everyone who has a feel for religion can hear the deep longing that Philip expresses. But Christ’s answer -- 'Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’ – contains a salutary reminder. We can fail to be satisfied with the truth.