Trinity Sunday 2026
Sunday 6pm Mass at St Mary’s Cathedral.
Welcome to each person who has joined us in St Mary’s Cathedral this evening. Welcome to visitors and parishioners.
When I was a fourth year seminarian, forty-two years ago, an oral exam began with the lecturer saying: “I know that you have studied the material, so I ask you one question: ‘What would you preach on Trinity Sunday?’.”
On Trinity Sunday the Church does not ask us to solve a puzzle about God. She invites us into a relationship. The mystery of the Trinity is not a mathematical problem but the deepest truth about love itself: God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—a communion of love into which we are drawn.
Every time we gather for Mass we are already living inside that mystery. We begin with the sign of the Cross. We are baptised in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Our prayers rise through Christ, in the Holy Spirit, to the Father. The Trinity surrounds the whole of Christian life almost so naturally that sometimes we no longer notice its beauty.
Tonight’s readings allow us to glimpse the heart of God.
In the first reading Moses encounters God on the mountain. And what is the first thing revealed about God? Not power. Not anger. Not distance. God reveals himself as “a God of tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in kindness and faithfulness.” How beautiful is that ancient text which tells us what God is like at the deepest level.
And then in the Gospel we hear words that many of you know by heart: “Yes, God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son.” God does not stand far away from the world. God enters it. God embraces it. God seeks us out even when we wander.
Sometimes you and I might imagine God as reluctant to love, as though mercy has to be earned from him. But Jesus tells us something entirely different. The whole movement of salvation begins in the heart of God’s love. The Father gives the Son. The Son offers himself for the world. The Holy Spirit continues to breathe God’s life into human hearts.
The Trinity is not reclusive. Divine love always moves outward. Love pours itself out. Love gathers. Love creates communion.
That is why Saint Paul teaches in tonight’s second reading: “Live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.” For us, the people of faith, the Trinity is not only something we believe; it becomes a way of living. Whenever people forgive one another, bear each other’s burdens, remain faithful, seek unity rather than division, something of the life of the Trinity shines in and through ordinary human life.
Let me suggest that is especially important at the 6pm Mass. By this hour of the evening many people arrive carrying the weight of the week ahead, family worries, maybe a little tired, and carrying thoughts that nobody else sees. Tonight, through the readings, the Church whispers a reminder that you do not walk through life alone. You are created by the Father, redeemed by the Son, and accompanied every day by the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is often the quietest presence of the Trinity, but perhaps the one we experience most intimately. The Spirit gives courage when we feel weak, wisdom when life becomes confusing, patience when relationships are strained, and hope when the future feels uncertain. The Spirit gently draws us back whenever we lose our way.
And all of this comes together here at the Eucharist.
In a few moments we will gather around one table and share the one bread and become one body in Christ. The Eucharist is never an individual act. The Trinity draws us into communion—with God and with one another. People of different ages, stories, struggles, and backgrounds are gathered into one family tonight because divine love has called us together.
And then at the end of Mass we will be sent out with hearts lifted in glory and praise to our God—not simply because life is easy, but because God remains faithful. The Father still creates. The Son still saves. The Holy Spirit still renews the earth.
The Trinity reminds us that at the centre of reality there is not emptiness, not chaos, not coldness—but love.
And perhaps that is the great consolation of Trinity Sunday.
Most Rev. Anthony J. Ireland
Archbishop of Hobart
31 May 2026