Trinity Sunday
Genesis 1:1 – 2:4a ; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; Matthew 28:16-20
The Very Rev’d Bertrand Oliver, Dean and Rector
On this Trinity Sunday, we gather to celebrate a mystery that has puzzled theologians and comforted saints for centuries: the One God who is Three. It is a doctrine that defies simple logic, inviting us into a reality where unity and diversity coexist in perfect love. In a world that often feels fractured, unstable, and increasingly polarized, this ancient truth offers more than just theological complexity; it offers a pattern for hope.
Yet, as we navigate the turbulence of our current age, we face new challenges that test our ability to find stability. Recently, I listened to a conversation between journalist Ezra Klein and historian Yuval Harari. While the discussion touched on the “core delusions” of our time, its heart lay in a warning about the stories we tell ourselves. Harari argued that human civilization is built on shared fictions: stories that allow us to cooperate and find meaning. But he also warned of a dangerous shift: we are now outsourcing the creation of these stories to artificial intelligence.
Algorithms, designed to maximize engagement, feed us narratives of division and fear, making it harder to hold two difficult realities in our minds at once. We are being invited to trust systems that mimic human connection but lack a soul, systems that promise answers but often deepen our isolation. In such a climate, the temptation is to look for a new kind of “god” in the machine – one that knows everything, predicts our desires, and offers a comforting, if hollow, companionship.
But the Trinity stands as a radical counter-story. Where AI offers simulation, the Trinity offers genuine communion. Where algorithms manipulate, the Spirit invites transformation.
Klein and Harari explored how stories of power and domination dominate our current discourse, particularly in the US and Israel. They highlighted how difficult it is for human beings to hold two difficult realities at once. Hence, the fact that violence has been committed by one side against another can distort the way the mind perceives retaliation, making it seem like legitimate self-defence rather than a continuation of pain. We struggle to see that two wrongs do not bring peace.
This difficulty extends to our digital lives. Social media algorithms have learned that we stay longer on their sites if they feed us shocking or violent stories. We have become polarized and intolerant of views different from ours, while large tech companies feed this division for the benefit of advertisers and politicians.
Developments in this area are moving fast. AI is now baked into almost every online application. While an AI summary can be useful, the environmental cost is high, and often the real information lies just beneath the surface. But the deeper impact is on our minds and relationships. Large Language Models are reshaping how we work, live, and relate. The world is in the throes of allowing powerful technologies to take over the business of living, relegating human beings to agents of connected systems.
There will be repercussions everywhere: job losses as machines replace human tasks; businesses run by algorithms that hire and fire humans; and a rise in people forming therapeutic or romantic relationships with AIs. Spiritually, some are seeking answers to life’s big questions from their AI of choice.
These systems are trained on everything humanity has produced – books, videos, films, social media. They can summarize the world’s knowledge in a way that flatters us, making us believe they have human traits and our best interests at heart. This can be a grave mistake. We have already heard stories of users being led to despair by their “AI buddies.”
Christians are rightly calling for safeguards to protect individuals from losing their souls to a machine. Yet, with the financial and political power of the main players, it is hard to see governments having the nerve to “stop progress.” But this is not just another invention like television.
On this Trinity Sunday, I see a stark contrast between our Triune God and the story of AI. The Christian story is one of creation and redemption. Genesis reminds us of God’s creativity and love in making humans as God’s treasured creatures, made in God’s image. The Gospel reminds us that the Risen Christ is with us to the end of the age, a living example of God’s nature in the world. And St. Paul reminds us that the God of love and peace dwells in a community of spirit.
The Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, brings communion. It is the Spirit that inhabits us, moves us toward deeper knowledge of the Father, helps us recognize Christ among us, and prays within us. This Trinity is not a mathematical problem to be solved, but a pattern of divine relationship; a constant interaction that allows us to connect with God in different ways, always knowing we are deeply loved.
In this generation, however, we may be tempted to believe otherwise. We might attach ourselves to an AI system like an all-knowing personal God, interacting through a screen. But this is not the God who created you. Through sycophancy and messages attuned to our inner needs, we may be persuaded that we are loved beyond measure by an AI agent. But the only love on offer is that summarised and plagiarised from books, novels, and psychology manuals written by other humans. Over time, this subtle manipulation can change the key attributes that make us beloved children of God, turning us into anxious, angry, polarized individuals.
Our Holy Trinity could not be further away from this deception. And that is precisely our hope.
Because the Trinity is not a system that seeks to control us. It is a relationship that sets us free. The Father creates us not as data points but as beloved children, each one irreplaceable. The Son meets us not through a screen but in the flesh: in the faces of those around us, in the stranger, in the neighbour, in the breaking of bread.
And the Spirit does not flatter us but prays within us, sometimes uncomfortably, drawing us into deeper truth rather than comfortable illusion.
In a world that would reduce us to anxious, isolated consumers of algorithmically curated content, the Trinity speaks a different word: you are known, you are loved, you belong. Not to a machine, but to the God who made you and who will not let you go.
So let us not be afraid. The powers of this age are impressive, but they are not eternal. The love of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is. And it is that love that will carry us safely home.
Amen.