As a historian, I am fascinated by the strangeness of the past, by its exotic ideas and eccentric people.  Each individual has their own story to tell, their own loves and losses, their own unique value and meaning.  The best historical writing gathers up those stories, weaving them together into something we can understand while reminding us of the distance that separates the past from the present.  The past can intrigue us, inspire us, jostle us out of our complacency and remind us of the myriad other ways of being human – just so long as we historians respect its essential otherness.

But how does history and historical writing fit with Christianity?  Sometimes, perhaps, it can seem subversive, emphasizing human choice and contingency rather than eternal truths.  Historians are always seeking to place the stories of the Bible into a specific time and space, to understand them in their own historical context.  Without that context the stories lose their humanity, their rootedness and their reality.   But that seems to separate them from a God who is eternal and unchanging, especially if we imagine God far beyond the messy particularity of our human lives, which change and develop through time.  

This Sunday is Trinity Sunday, and maybe the doctrine of the Trinity offers us all some hope.  It suggests, even if mysteriously, a way of thinking about God which is not separate from human time but unites it to eternity.  For God is not simply aloof from us but became human in Christ the Son and is eternally present with us as the Holy Spirit, in a dynamic relationship which draws in all creation.  All our stories can be caught up and enfolded in God’s love, while still preserving their uniqueness and without sacrificing their individuality.   Trinity Sunday reminds us that in God’s perfect harmony all our different lives can come together – and challenges us to share in that inclusive love.