Trinity in the Trenches
Peace That Protests. Grace That Grounds. Love That Liberates
Romans 5:1-5
Ok, here it is! The sermon that you’ve been waiting for! I wouldn’t call it a sugar-stick sermon, but it’s certainly a hopeful sermon. And oh, how we need some hope today! Because, in today’s world, we wonder how we’re still standing.
Our epistle lectionary lesson Romans 5:1-5 enters our turbulent time like a divine disruption, a flame refusing to be swallowed by the night. It doesn’t offer quick fixes or shallow answers, but it offers deep, lasting, transforming, Trinitarian hope.
I know, I know. Some of you have never been big fans of the Trinity. That’s because you’re not fans of any doctrine or creed, especially if it was decreed by the empire centuries ago, with other edicts and declarations that have caused more harm in the world than good. You don’t get it, and I get that. The Trinity is a strange concept. Three in one? Why three? Why not 7 or 12 or 17 or 153? Actually, I kinda like 153!
The good news for us on this day we call “Trinity Sunday” is that the Trinity doesn’t have to be a dusty old imperial doctrine. The Trinity can be divine, living reality.
I know, I know. Some of you didn’t like the sound of that. A preacher telling you what reality is. We have too much gaslighting these days from the power-that-be, and you’ve come to church this morning to hear the truth!
But hear me out. I am saying that maybe the Trinity, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, or the Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer if you prefer, is not an ancient puzzle to solve. It’s a real, living, transforming, presence in which to dwell. The Holy Trinity is something to be lived more than learned, experienced more than explained, something or someone with whom to relate more than to understand. It’s not abstract; it’s active. It’s moving. It’s breathing. It’s calling, prodding, pushing, pulling us toward who we have been and are still being created to be.
Listen again to how the Apostle Paul describes the Trinity in his letter to the Romans:
“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ... and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
Let’s walk together in this text and let the Trinity meet us in our grief, our protests, our healing, and our rising.
“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God…”
To say, we are “justified by faith” is to say that God, the source of all that is, made a decision about us before the world could.
Before society tagged you as expendable, God named you “beloved”. Before empires wrote policies and made decrees to discount or disappear you, God wrote your name in glory.
Before redlining maps were drawn, God marked your entire neighborhood and called it blessed.
Before school districts were zoned to maintain inequality, God declared your mind worthy of wisdom.
Before they looked at your skin, your gender, your sexuality, and your zip code, and said “unworthy” God looked at you and said “very good!”
Before they erased you from textbooks, God had written your story in the Lamb’s Book of Life!
And it is God, the creator of everything, the energy of, in, and behind the universe, Love Love’s self, who is the one who declares peace over us— a cosmic, reconciling, justice-making peace.
It’s not the peace of silence. It’s not the peace of the status quo.
It’s not the peace one enjoys when they decide to play it safe.
It’s not the peace that comes with caution, following the rules or staying out of trouble.
It’s the peace that always lifts up the lowly, the least and the left out, even if it means flipping a table or two to do it!
It's the peace that comes with the freedom of being justified. It’s not passive peace. It’s a prophetic peace. It’s the peace that tears down what divides and oppresses and builds what unifies and liberates in its place.
It’s the kind of peace that marched with Dr. King and bled with John Lewis on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.
It’s the kind of peace that says “Black Lives Matter” not to exclude anyone, but to expose what peace really demands.
It’s not the kind of peace that settles, but the kind of peace that agitates until justice rolls down like waters.
Let’s look at the next line:
“...through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand...” (v.2)
Jesus is our access point to grace. Jesus didn’t just die because of our sins; He lived to show us what love looks like under empire, under oppression, under the shadow of the cross by living a life of grace.
Grace is not a loophole. It’s a lifestyle. Grace is what empowers us to stand tall in the rubble, to stand in front of an army deployed by a corrupt authoritarian and still speak truth. Grace is opportunity. Grace is an opening, a door, a window, even a crack. Grace is how Jesus reached out to the woman at the well, touched the leper, and restored the outcast.
And Paul says, Jesus is the access to this grace.
Sadly, this is where the church has really messed up its theology. Grace is not a ticket to heaven to escape the world. Grace is the opportunity to bring heaven to the world.
This is the grace Jesus came to give.
So let me say this prophetically: If your theology makes room for grace but not justice, you haven’t met Jesus yet.
If your gospel preaches forgiveness but ignores the systems that crucify, it’s not good news. It’s a performance.
Christ gives us grace to stand. Not to retreat. Not to hide. But to stand—
· To stand in the courtroom when the system is tilted, and still speak truth to power, with trembling hands but with a steady soul.
· To stand in the streets, in the pouring rain or the scorching heat and still lift up signs and prayers for a justice that won’t wait.
· To stand in your weary body—chronically ill, over-policed, underpaid—and say, “My presence is still a miracle!”
· To stand in grief when you've buried too many dreams, too many loved ones, and somehow still hope again.
· To stand when depression tells you to stay in bed, when anxiety says you’re not enough, and say: “Grace brought me here, and grace will keep me, and grace is enough.”
The good news is that there is more, much more! Look at verse 5.
“...and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit...” (v.5)
Ah, the Spirit. The One too many of us try to explain instead of experience.
This is the Spirit who whispers to us when all hell is breaking loose.
This is the Spirit who moves us in protest chants and in silent prayers.
This is the Spirit who pours—not sprinkles, drizzles, or cautiously trickles, but liberally pours the love of God deep into us until we can breathe again, smile again, even laugh again.
And this is why we don’t give up or stand down or ever bow down. Because love has roots that run deep. Love has a heartbeat in us. And even when suffering surrounds us, the darkness envelops us, even when the trauma returns, the Spirit keeps saying, “Hold on. The good old days may be gone but good new days are coming!”
The Spirit does not eliminate suffering. The Spirit takes suffering and makes suffering meaningful. The Spirit resurrects and transforms suffering. The Spirit assures us that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces a hope that never disappoints us!
So, what do we do when the world is on fire?
When empires write decrees and send in the troops?
When systems still crucify the innocent?
When liberty and justice feels like a luxury only for the privileged?
When the whole world seems to be upside down, and we’re barely hanging on?
That’s when we remember the One, or the Three, who are holding on to us. The Father speaks peace. Christ gives grace. And the Spirit pours out love!
This is our Triune hope in the trenches, our Trinitarian anchor in a turbulent world. This is why we preach. This is why we worship in a pew, sing a hymn, and give an offering. This is why we pray and why we protest. This is why we forgive and feed, cry and console, resist and rise!
The Trinity is not an idea. It’s not just a concept. The Trinity is our inheritance, our identity, and our liberation. It’s how we can still stand when all is falling around us.
Still stand when policies crush the poor.
Still stand when truth is unfashionable.
Still stand when they gaslight and try to divide us.
Still stand when they deploy the military against us and threaten to kill us.
Still stand when love looks like resistance and hope costs everything.
The Trinity is not theoretical. It’s revolutionary!
The Father says, “Stand in this love.” The Son says, “Stand in this grace.” The Spirit says, “I’ve poured this love in you like wildfire—now go and light up your city, your state, your nation, and my world with my love. Go and stand and love until the torch of liberty and justice burns for all!”
So, let’s go and stand. Stand in courtrooms and stand in classrooms.
Stand in pulpits and in stand in peace vigils.
Stand in mourning and stand in movement.
Stand with our scars and with our sacred calling.
And when the world asks: Who gave you permission to stand like this? Who told you that you could be this courageous? How are you this strong, this confident? And why are you smiling like that?
That’s when you say, “I’ve been justified by faith!” “I’ve got peace from the Father!” “I’ve been given grace from the Son!” “And have been anointed with fire from the Holy Ghost!”
Now stand, and let your life be a sermon the world has been waiting for and cannot ignore.
Pastoral Prayer
God of our weary years and silent tears,
God of justified faith and scandalous grace,
God who is Three and still One,
We come this morning not to perform, but to be transformed.
Some of us limped in today.
Some of us almost didn’t make it.
But your Spirit drew us here anyway
through heartbreak, through headlines, through heaviness.
Thank you for the grace of being here.
God, the Father and Mother of us all,
Speak your peace over our restlessness.
Not the peace that silences pain,
but the kind that steadies us in the middle of the storm.
Not the peace that tells us to be quiet,
but the one that reminds us we are already called, already loved, already enough.
Jesus our Sibling and Savior,
You stood for us 2,000 years ago,
and you still stand with us.
You know what empire feels like, what betrayal tastes like,
what it means to love a world that does not always love back.
Give us courage to stand like you stood.
Holy Spirit,
we need more than a moment.
We need a movement in our bones,
a fire in our souls,
a pouring out of your love where it’s gone dry and hollow.
Pour your Spirit over every mind that doubts,
every heart that’s guarded,
every soul that’s tired of fake religion.
Prepare us now to hear your Word not as information, but as transformation.
Let this be more than a sermon. Let it be a shift. Let it be a stirring.
Let it be resurrection in real time.
We pray this in the name of the One who still breaks chains,
who still feeds the hungry, and who still calls us friends.
INVITATION TO COMMUNION
This is the table where grace makes a seat for everybody.
Not just the clean, confident, and the certain, not just the put-together,
but for those still doubting, still healing, still standing, even if it is barely, even it if is not on your own.
This is also a table of remembrance. And here’s what we remember:
That on the night the empire tried to silence love,
Jesus sat with the very people who would betray Him, deny Him, and abandon Him, and still, He broke bread. Still, He poured out the cup. Still, He said, “This is for you.”
Come if you’re tired. Come if you’re hungry. Come if you’ve been trying to stand or looking for a place or a reason to stand. This table was made for you. All of you.
INVITATION TO GIVE
We give today not because the church is broke. We give because the world is broken.
When you give, you're joining a movement:
a movement of liberation, a movement of justice,
a movement of love that puts hands and feet on the gospel.
Whether it’s your tithe, your time, or your testimony,
every gift makes a way for someone else to know they are not alone.
So give boldly. Give freely. Give because Christ stood for you,
and now we stand together.
COMMISSIONING AND BENEDICTION
Go with the reminder that you’ve been justified not by politics, not by performance, not by perfection, but by faith.
So, leave this place in peace,
the kind of peace that turns over tables when necessary.
Leave with grace,
the kind of grace that helps you stand when everything in you wants to fold.
And leave with love,
the love poured out in your heart by the Holy Spirit,
that you might become the very sermon this world has been waiting to hear.
Go now in the name of the God who formed you, the Christ who freed you,
and the Spirit who fires you up for the journey ahead.
And let the church say:
Amen.