Friday, May 4, 2007

That Confusing Trinity Business

Can I get a quick count of everybody who can honestly say he's never, ever been at least a little confused by this whole trinity business?

*people look around nervously and avoid eye contact while crickets chirp*

I thought so. Don't feel bad; it's some confusing shit. Let me give you my take on it. But I can't really explain it. I'm only human and the Trinity most definitely isn't. But I can share some of my experiences with the all-for-one-and-one-for-all Guy(s) upstairs.

Let me just start by saying forget that stupid shamrock business. St. Pat isn't exactly known for his brilliance and he still gets ribbed a lot for the whole clover analogy. What do you expect from a guy who spent a chunk of his childhood mostly alone with somebody else's sheep to talk to. He also wasn't exactly known for his improv skills either. So when some yokel scratches his head and says, "Trinity, huh? Riiiiight", Pat looks down kind of embarrassed and grabs the first thing he sees. Nice try, but no cigar, Pat. You make the Guys sound like Cerebrus, if Cerebrus were an innocuous little green plant instead of a ferocious but sleepy puppy freak.

So I walked into a bar in heaven the other day (no, this isn't the start of a joke although I've heard a few good ones that do start that way) and one of the saints, who was frankly a little blotto, says, "Hey, Mary, c'mere. We want to run something by you. Al here says the Trinity is like a tail recursive function: God is the base case, Jesus the recursive call at the end of the function, and the Holy Ghost makes the call and returns the result. Is he right, or is he right?" I smiled and bought them a round. Not that they really need another round at that point. But, hey, it's heaven. Why the heck not?

In my experience, this whole Trinity business gets a little spooky. One minute I'm talking to my Hubby, and I don't even take my eyes off of him, but *poof* (there is no actual *poof* and that's part of the spookiness--it just happens) all of a sudden my Son is standing right there in His place like nothing happened and He doesn't miss a beat. Or vice versa. Or if we're all together, like at dinner, and they all have an annoying habit of swapping around and finishing each other's sentences. And I don't think They even notice it when They do it. And that isn't the only time They like to swap around and finish for each other, if you catch my drift. I was a little too young and innocent to put up with those kinds of shenanigans back in the day on earth, but now, hey, it's heaven. Why the heck not? ;)

Sorry, that probably didn't clarify much of anything. I'll try to do a better job next week when I tackle the epicurean paradox, i.e., the problem of evil, i.e., "if God can do anything he wants to and he isn't a douche bag, then why didn't he squash Hitler like a bug?"

Your friend, Mary.