Preaching Paths 31 May 2026

Sally A Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary

On this Trinity Sunday, the lectionary pairs two NT texts that contain early trinitarian formulas. In both cases, the book’s closing sentences name the Godhead as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In Matthew 28:19, we find a trinitarian baptismal formula; in 2 Corinthian 13:13, a trinitarian benediction. Mt 28:19 may be a late addition to the gospel, drawing on Pauline or early liturgical sources. Strikingly both texts include promises of divine presence : in Mt 28, “I am with you always” (v. 20), and in 2 Cor 13:11-13, two such promises: “the God of love and peace will be with you” (v.11) and “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit  be with all of you” (v. 13).

Homiletical possibilities abound this week. First, one might reflect theologically on the practical  implications of the triune (i.e. “social”) description of the Godhead in these texts. Recent decades have seen the emergence of social-trinitarian theologies that envision the Godhead as a dynamic interrelationality that reshapes our understanding of the Church, as well as human personhood (see J. Zizioulas [1985], C. LaCugna [1993], and S. Grentz [2007]). The African phrase, “I am, because we are,” comes to mind. Cultural valorization of individualistic “self-actualization” may, in fact, be a hobbling distortion of what it means to bear the divine image. We become ourselves in community.

Second, one might choose as one’s point of departure the striking and often-overlooked phrase in Mt 28:17: “When they saw [Jesus], they worshipped him, but some doubted.” Jesus commissions all present to go into the world, making disciples and baptizing. Evidently there was room on that mountaintop for doubt mixed in with faith; is there room for doubt in our pews? Might we take doubt seriously as a significant, even necessary, human experience in the journey of faith?

A third option would be to explore what it means to “make disciples.”  Jesus did not put up a tent or a billboard. He did not hand out pamphlets. Perhaps disciple-making is not so much a matter of disseminating information about Jesus as it is a matter of embodying the reign of God, as he did. Reaching out especially to the physically, emotionally, and materially “broken” ones around him, Jesus welcomed his followers into an apprenticeship, so to speak, which culminated in a profession of faith in him. Perhaps disciple-making in our time means welcoming faith-seekers into our communities to worship and work alongside us, until they are ready to own and declare their faith.

In some contexts, the straightforward appeals that are the capstone of Paul’s Corinthian correspondence may speak to a congregation. His verbs are strong and direct: “Put [things] in order, listen . . .  agree. . . live in peace.” These need to be understood as the appeals of an invested, loving pastor, not overbearing, authoritarian directives. It is no accident that these are coupled with a strong promise of divine presence: “And the God of love and peace will be with you” (2 Cor 13:11).

Finally, listeners wrestling with suffering in its myriad forms, personal or communal, may benefit most from a pastoral reflection on Paul’s trinitarian benediction (2 Cor 13:13). Some suffer loss or illness that leaves them isolated. Others struggle with rejection or regret. Congregations and households can experience conflict or financial crisis. Amid such challenges, we need reassurance that the love of the Father, the grace of the Son, and the communion of the Spirit enfold us. That reassurance becomes concrete when the Church understands its common life as a reflection of the relationality of the Godhead itself. Congregants’ emotional and physical support for sufferers will embody the inexhaustible love, unstinting grace, and interactive communion of the Triune God.