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[ Back to index of April articles ] BEARINGS: "I have some problems with the creed," I overhead someone say after church recently, and it struck me that the admission was very like those we make about close relationships: "I'm having problems with my eldest son…" Can we have a relationship with the creeds? Can we love them? Can we have an understanding with them? I realized that I did have feelings for the creeds, feelings associated with four images: an entrance ticket, a coin, the list of contents in a book of poems and a song. In the early church the creeds were called the "symbols." At baptism, the new convert would recite the "symbol" of faith. To me there is the encouraging suggestion that the creed is a constellation of metaphors and images all crying out for interpretation. All talk about God is through symbols. But there is more to this title symbol. Northrop Frye, one of the greatest literary interpreters of the Bible reminds us, "Originally a symbol was a token or counter, like the stub of a theater ticket which is not the performance but will take us to where the performance is." The creeds were originally created to summarize for converts what baptism was going to let them into. Reciting the baptismal symbol, they were admitted to the drama. The priest was like a theater usher welcoming them into the arena of Christian worship, prayer and practice. Once inside, they would experience for themselves what it means to worship the Creator, to have a relationship with Christ, to experience forgiveness, to have resurrection hope. A coin. Coins have to be made of alloy to work. Coins made of pure metals are too soft; constant handling quickly rubs off the image and inscription. In the same way creeds are not meant to be the "pure gold" of inspired spiritual teaching. The creeds are not the perfect summary of Christian faith. They were assembled in some awkward ways in the early councils. They might sound clunky, and not express the essentials in the way we might choose today. But they were created as common coin for use, and their value has held up over 16 centuries of very rough handling. They deserve honor for holding together a common identity for Christians separated by culture and distance, and for being the legacy that generation has handed to this generation. If we could get more emotional about the creed, it might make us cry to think of the millions who have recited them before us, and do so today - some of them with their dying breath as martyrs. A list of contents in a book of poems. A friend once handed me a little book of poetry, Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese. After reading a page I said, "The language is lovely, but I can't quite grasp what she is trying to say in this sonnet." The friend snatched the book back and exclaimed at once, "You didn't read one of the sonnets. You read the list of contents - all the first lines!" Embarrassing, but a pointer to what the creeds really are. They are lists of first lines, chapter headings. They have little meaning in and of themselves. It means virtually nothing to say, "He ascended into heaven." That is just the agenda item of a deep discussion about who Christ is, how Christ is present in the world today, how Christ's sovereignty is expressed. The creeds point us to the activity of exploring the meaning of our faith in community. We can't expect the chapter headings of the creed to have much meaning for us if we won't join in the exploration and discussion. Symbols cry out for interpretation. Finally, a song. I'm used to singing the creeds in church and I'm always disappointed in services where they are said. This flat monotonous recitation doesn't help us get emotionally connected, as singing does. The creeds are not an official confession of faith or catechism as much as songs of defiance and the jubilant celebrations of tremendous mysteries. I remember from my travels in the Soviet Union the communist regime that banned all religious activities except the liturgy. I remember worshipping in a church in Kiev filled with the poor, mainly elderly babushkas and their grandchildren. When the moment came for the people to join the choir in singing the creed, suddenly a tremor of energy passed through the church. The fervor of the people's singing made the creed sound like the repeated crashing of the waves of an invincible sea. Tears streamed down my face, and I was not alone. And in fact it was an invincible tide. Now all the vast intellectual apparatus of Marxist Leninist ideology has collapsed into rubble. The praise song of the creed, ridiculed as worthless by the powerful, this vast shout of praise and defiance, goes on. [ Back to index of April articles ]
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