….well, no, actually "from the Bishop"

Last fall when we held our Cottage Meetings, I was not surprised that the use of the Creeds in our worship came up at two meetings. I was not surprised that at one meeting the concern was that we should always include the Creed and at another it was that the Creed could be off-putting to guests and to those who question some of the “beliefs” expressed. I really like what Bishop Hazelwood had to say about the Creeds in his recent blog post. So I share it here with you. If you’ve already seen and read it I apologize for the lack of original content here, but I think this is good stuff and hope that you do too.

Blessings,

Pastor Anderson

Are the Creeds of any Value?

Wonderings around Dogma and Doctrine in a Post-Secular World © 2024 James Hazelwood

Critiquing or discounting creeds and dogmas is fashionable of late. But today, I will make a case for their value in the spirit that we all seek a mature spiritual life.

First, a little history.

Two thousand years ago, the ancient Near East, from Greece to India, down through Egypt, experienced a plethora of philosophies, religious movements, and cults of all kinds of imaginative thinking. On the one hand, it was a fertile engagement of human consciousness but also utter chaos. When the early followers of Jesus of Nazareth began forming communities, they saw the movement as a reforming of Judaism. This is why they started in synagogues, but this shifted with Paul's missionary travels to the Gentiles of the Mediterranean world. As the decades evolved, a whole variety of Christianities (is that a word?) emerged. Some had varied beliefs and teachings, and in some cases, the ideas were 180 degrees in opposition to one another.

As the early Christian faith was taking shape, it became necessary to clarify the teachings of this new faith. This led to the establishment of various statements of teachings, which became creeds and doctrines over time. (I've been reading a helpful overview by Robert Louis Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought if you are interested) In brief, these creeds, such as the Apostles, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds, became the cornerstones of the early church. Looking back on this process from today's vantage point, one might offer critiques, noting who was favored and what ideas became dominant. But that's for another day.

But today, it's quite common for even regular church attendees to question aspects of the creeds. 100% affirmation of the Creeds seems hard to come by. As I’ve pointed out previously, 21st-century people often say, "I'm Spiritual but not religious because I don't believe in those creeds and dogmas."

Confession

I'll confess to looking at some aspects of these creeds and thinking, “I'm not sure that makes any sense to me, or Nope, I don't buy that line, or Wait, can we pause the worship service because this part of this Creed doesn't make sense to me.”

If you are outside or inside the Christian faith, you might wonder about those questions I mentioned above. What do some of these phrases mean? How can one embrace these creeds, confessions, and doctrines that come from another point in human history? Here are three movements, approaches, tools, or concepts that have helped me through my years of wrestling with creeds and doctrines.

Movement # 1

“A map is not the actual territory.” In 1931, in New Orleans, Louisiana, mathematician Alfred Korzybski used this phrase to describe a particular problem. (1.) (Please don't ask me to explain the math. I'm just glad I filed my taxes successfully last weekend.) But the saying has become a helpful way of capturing our use of metaphor. In this case, we must remember that the Creeds, doctrines, and dogmas are maps, but they are not the thing itself. We are attempting to find language that gets us to view God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. But, we human beings tend to literalize language. Or, as DH Lawrence once said using the same metaphor, “The map appears to us more real than the land.” (2.) In other words, we tend to make the Apostle's Creed to be God or a god. But that is not the purpose of the Creed. The map is not the territory.

Movement # 2

Author and professor Ann Ulanov tackled this in a Psychology and Religion course at Union Theological Seminary when she described the creeds as a foundational aspect needing our response. That's not her precise language, but it's close. The idea is that we need something to respond to and wrestle with. The creeds serve that purpose. Without them, we are grasping in thin air. A common refrain I hear from parents of young children regarding their decision not to raise them in a particular faith centers around the sentence, "I'll let them make up their mind as they grow up." While I'm all for people finding their way in life, by providing nothing for the children to engage, you aren’t helping them. People, especially children, need a place to put their feet down. Healthy ways to do this include providing flexibility and engagement and encouraging curiosity and wonder.

My point here is the creeds give us something to engage, even argue and fight with. When I taught confirmation to 7th and 8th graders, I often put up a poster of the Creed and said, “ok, find something in here that doesn't make sense to you.” This led to some beautiful conversations. These yutes learned that faith is not static but demands, even hopes, for a robust engagement. Let’s wrestle with this stuff, people! Our lives will be richer.

Movement # 3

Lastly, I'd like to dissect the word ‘believe.”

The Apostles and Nicene Creeds begin with I believe, or We believe. When we read this word, we immediately jump to our default hyper-rationalist understanding of the word believe. It's an intellectual ascent or affirmation of what’s written down. “To think that something is true, correct or real,” as the Cambridge Dictionary says. But is that the original intent?

Diana Butler Bass did fine work on this subject in the book Christianity After Religion. She traces the language origins of “belief “ from the ancient Greek and Latin through the old Germanic and English languages. The various translations of the ancient words came down to us in the English-speaking world, with the word ‘believe’ understood as making an intellectual determination weighing evidence between multiple factors. Instead, Bass and other scholars help us revisit the intent of biblical literature and ancient creeds. The original language would translate those words more like ‘belove’ instead of ‘believe.’ When we ‘belove’ something or someone, it roots us in a relationship. More appropriate words for our time would substitute belief with trust, value, and love.

This shifts toward something more like a marriage vow. We say "I do" as a pledge of faithfulness and loving service to and with others. A marriage vow stating, “I believe you exist in a spatial reality standing here in front of me” does not signify the couple's relationship. But, I cherish you, love you, and trust in you is the intent of the vows at a wedding.

This has been helpful for me as I approach the creeds and doctrines of the church. Go back and read the Apostle’s Creed and substitute out the word believe, and in its place, try out trust, cherish, love, and devote. It changes our engagement and moves us toward a relational, experiential dynamic that moves us toward the state and direction of our hearts, souls, and minds.

All three tools have helped me view the Creeds as something akin to poetry. This map of faith gives me a starting point for a conversational relationship with the world; with Life; indeed with God.

I've been hanging out with the Sonnets of Malcolm Guite of late. His book Soundings the Seasons is now my holy book of this season in life and Lent. Below is his Sonnet on the Holy Trinity, one of the central doctrines reflected in the church's Creeds. We could use his Sonnets instead of Creeds in our liturgy on Sunday. Guite would not endorse that suggestion, but it is a way to expand our relationship with the sacred. (click the title of the poem to listen to Guite recite it)

Trinity

In the Beginning, not in time or space,

But in the quick before both space and time,

In Life, in love, in co-inherent Grace,

In three in one and one in three, in rhyme,

In music, in the whole creation story,

In His own image, His imagination,

The Triune Poet makes us for His glory,

And makes us each the other’s inspiration.

He calls us out of darkness, chaos, chance,

To improvise a music of our own,

To sing the chord that calls us to the dance,

Three notes resounding from a single tone,

To sing the End in whom we all begin;

Our God beyond, beside us and within.

1. Alfred Korzybski, American Mathematical Society December 28, 1931

2. D.H. Lawrence, From 'Study of Thomas Hardy,' in Edward D. McDonald (ed.), Phoenix: The

(Over several months we’ll explore pieces of our worship service and why we do them)

On Sunday mornings at Nativity this Lent we are emphasizing “lament” in several ways. During the Kyrie we have been voicing the “cries of our hearts” in between the sung phrases “Lord have mercy” and “Christ have mercy.” Then those cries are written on a piece of fabric and hung in the space as a visual reminder. Some of our biblical texts for the day have been examples of lament and our sermons are focusing on lament.

This emphasis may feel out of the ordinary for you, not what you expect in our worship. You may be asking yourself the question “Is there lament in our ‘regular’ worship?” The answer is “YES! We do find lament in our regular pattern of worship.” But to understand more fully where that is, it might be best to first review a description of lament and the steps involved.

In her book Practicing Lament, Rebekah Eklund writes: “[Lament] is one of the most common forms of prayer in the Jewish Scriptures, or what Christians call the Old Testament…Lament takes wordless, almost unbearable pain, and gives it a shape and a voice. It provides a structure to hang pain on…when everything comes undone, a simple structure can help piece us back together by showing us the way—first this, then that. Step by step through the darkness.”

Biblical lament is characterized by having four elements or steps.

The first is the “invocation,” sometimes called the “address.” This part directs the cry. To whom are we crying out? This is a conversation. Who are we talking to? Often biblical laments begin “My God, my God.” Beginning this way is a reminder of the relationship we have with God.

The second step is to name what is wrong and is usually called the “complaint.” A lament honestly and specifically names a situation or circumstance that is painful, wrong, or unjust. The emotional tone of the complaint varies, depending on the type of lament psalm. It may express sorrow, remorse, weariness, anger, disappointment, or doubt. In many Old Testament laments, the absence or hiddenness of God is one of the primary complaints. Eklund writes: “Lament makes room for the gap between the truth (God never leaves us) and our experience (it sure feels like God does, sometimes). Lament gives a voice to our worst fears and doubts and invites us to say them out loud. It even invites us to speak them to God—even toward a God we may be angry with, or doubtful toward.” Most of the “cries of our hearts” from our kyrie experience are this step.

The third step is the “petition” or “request.” It is a plea to God. Eklund describes it as the heart of the lament, its most essential piece. The lamenter expects a response or an answer. We expect that God will be able to do something about the situation. Often in the biblical examples the request sounds like a demand. One of the most frequent pleas is simply that God be present. Sometimes the lamenter just asks God to listen. Sometimes the plea is for God to act by providing healing or help or rescue.

And the final step is “trust.” A lament generally includes an explicit expression of trust, sometimes woven through the complaint and petition, and other times concluding the lament with an almost jarring note of praise. This step often begins with the words “but” or “yet,” conveying to God that the lamenter is still in the midst of their pain but chooses to trust anyway and is willing to reach out in hope. Eklund writes: “Lament is a prayer of tensions and contradictions—praising while hurting, hoping while still in the dark.”

When we look at biblical texts, we find that the steps are often out of order, not sequential. But one Psalm shows a good example. If you’re interested, open your Bible, and read Psalm 13. You will find the invocation is in verse 1 and verse 3. A series of complaints are listed in the first two verses. The petitions are found in verses 3 and 4. And then in verse 5 the “but” marks the turn to the trust and praise found in that verse and the next.

But what about worship? Now that you know the steps, can you figure out where lament enters our liturgy? Sometimes it is in litanies marking special occasions or events in our world. Often, we find it in the psalm appointed for the day. But a good example, perhaps unexpected, is our Confession and Forgiveness. Because sometimes the “complaint” we most need to talk to God about is ourselves and how we have fallen short. Let’s look at the confession we are using Sundays during Lent.

Blessed be the holy Trinity, ☩ one God, who gathers us in the wilderness to redeem us,

anoint us, and make us new. Amen.

In these forty days, let us be honest, confess our sin, and receive God’s promise of mercy.

Silence is kept for reflection.

God at the margins,

We have wandered far from your home; again and again, we lose our way. We turn inward, afraid of the world around us. We forget that you have saved your people before and promise to do so again. Do not remember the deeds of our past, but turn our faces toward the future, where your forgiveness is sure, your welcome is clear, and your love overflows. Amen.

Like a hen who gathers her chicks, God embraces you in tender care. Like manna in the desert, God feeds you with surprising mercy. Like a loving parent, God runs to meet you again this day, forgiving your sins for the sake of Christ, leading you from death into life. Amen.

Can you pick out the steps? “God at the margins” is our invocation, spoken by the pastor on behalf of the congregation. The complaints: we have wandered, turn inward, are afraid, forget. The petition begins at “Do not remember” and then the trust step is the pastor’s declaration of God’s care and forgiveness. The same breakout can be found in the “Confession and Forgiveness” options we find in our ELW or LBW hymnals.

Liturgy—the work of the people—is a tool to strengthen our relationship with God. Lament is a conversation (a prayer) that helps us do that.

Yes, a picture is worth a thousand words – or maybe more. We’ve been sharing vegetarian recipes through the View since November, and it’s probably time to take another look at why it’s a meaningful way to care for creation.

When you replace a meat-based meal with a vegetarian meal, you are reducing the impact of your menu choices on the climate. You can reduce the amount of carbon dioxide released into the air by choosing foods whose production releases much less carbon dioxide. The benefit is most dramatic if you are replacing beef or lamb with something lower on the scale. How does that help the planet? Less carbon dioxide means less heat trapped in the atmosphere and a lesser increase in temperatures on the land and in the oceans. Scientists tell us that these increases in land and ocean temperatures are the cause of stronger storms, rising sea levels and catastrophic flooding.