The Apostles Creed

"Do we have to recite the Apostles' Creed when we baptize?" That question comes on a regular basis, almost always from a saint who actively participates in our ministries but has trouble with one or more of the statements in the creed. I share that struggle and take nearly every word of the Apostles' Creed metaphorically, not literally.

Why do we recite the Apostles Creed? Our constitution requires it. For us baptism involves not only God, but also a Session, a baptisand (and, for infants, a parent or guardian), a Teaching Elder, and the congregation. Our Book of Order states responsibilities for the humans involved. The congregation has three. We must profess our faith, using the Apostles' Creed, voice support of those baptized, and express willingness to take responsibility for the nurture of those baptized.

Why insist on the Apostles Creed? There are others. Why not use one of them? Why use a creed at all? What does a creed add to baptism?

A creed reminds us that we believe baptism takes a community. Our tradition allows private baptisms only under unusual circumstances and emergencies. A creed reminds us that we stand on a foundation provided by other Christians and that we prepare a foundation on which subsequent believers will build. A creed also reminds us that we believe God is the most active presence in baptism. We prepare and make promises, but God makes us Christian by water and the Spirit.

We have many creeds, but some of us probably wrestle with at least a portion of all of them. The Apostles' Creed points to our shared history. The earliest form of the Apostles' Creed was written late in the second century CE to affirm, in part, that the God whom Jesus called Father is also the God of Hebrew Scriptures. Candidates for baptism recited this creed when asked what they believe. In the third century, after many Christians had denied their faith when persecuted, the church pastorally added the sentence, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." Two centuries later, after some doubted that everyone who professed faith in Jesus truly belonged to the church, the church added two adjectives to describe the church: "holy," designating that believers belong to God, and "catholic," indicating that the church is universal, unbound by time and place. From that time until today a significant portion of the holy and catholic church has recited the Apostles' Creed during baptism.

On Confirmation Sunday I noted that "creed" comes from a root that means "I give my heart to." With the Apostles' Creed we claim that we give our heart to the God revealed in scripture, to the ministry of the Jesus, to the Spirit, and to all the saints connected with them. That's quite a claim. I find it inspiring that so many of our saints wrestle with the words when we recite them. That means they take seriously what those words ask of them and say about them. Surely something good comes from that.

Will we still stand and recite the Apostles' Creed in 2112? That's more than I can answer. I'm content to use what we have until God leads us to better words. Heard any lately?

Grace and Peace,

LP

Pentecost - speaking and listening

This weekend we celebrate Pentecost, the last of the Great Fifty Days of Easter. Many of us will wear red, the liturgical color for the Holy Spirit, as we celebrate the birth of the church and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Many worshippers will read portions of Acts 2, which describes the Spirit becoming manifest in "a sound like the rush of a violent wind" and "tongues as of fire." According to Luke, the Spirit empowered the disciples to proclaim the good news in foreign tongues.

No such manifestation of the Spirit has come my way. I've never spoken in tongues, although a few times congregants have looked at me as if I had. The ability to speak a foreign language has come only sparingly and after considerable effort. Often my experiences of the Holy Spirit have been less like the disciples and more like those Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and Mesopotamians; i.e. the Spirit became manifest not in speaking but in hearing.

That happened recently on our program staff retreat. One of our saints planned and led the retreat, leaving me free only to participate. I tried to speak little and listen a great deal. [You'll have to ask my colleagues whether I succeeded.] Throughout the day insights came from listening that I think I would have missed if speaking. I deem those insights gifts of the Spirit.

Recent studies suggest that we powerfully activate our brains and form new neural pathways when we listen carefully to someone with whom we disagree. Some of you have heard me speak of a clergy colleague whom I love dearly but with whom I rarely agree theologically and politically. We used to meet for lunch regularly and whenever we did, I left spiritually stimulated. Friendship deepened even though we grew no closer on issues, and the Spirit moved in us both to awaken respect, tolerance, understanding, and acceptance.

A congregation with whom I served several years ago faced an issue that threatened to tear us apart. Our leadership team hosted several "listening conferences" during which any member of our congregation could address the issue. I listened carefully and, after each person spoke, made a three or four sentence summary of that person's comments. When the two of us agreed on the summary, our secretary recorded it and the team promised to review it as a part of making our recommendation. By the time the "listening conferences" had ended, our congregational mood had become calmer and more hopeful. No decision could please everyone, but it was clear that we would live into it together. We all identified that transformation as a blessing empowered by the Spirit.

Poet John Oxenham prays,

Come, occupy my silent place

and make Thy dwelling there.

More grace is wrought in quietness

than any is aware.

As we approach the final celebration of the season of Easter, let's invite the powerful and rushing wind of God to dwell in us. Perhaps, by the grace of God, the manifestation of the Spirit as we listen will provide even more for us to say, sing, do, and be.

Easter Blessings,

LP

Faith is Hard

Several of our confirmands made profound comments last Sunday. One has echoed within me all week. With a calm voice, yet clear awareness of turbulent realities, one of our confirmands declared, "Faith is hard."

Faith is hard. How refreshing to hear those words from one making a first pubic profession of faith. Yes, child of God, faith is hard. Trusting in the existence, presence, and goodness of God in a world in which we cannot pluck a rose without risking the thorn is hard. Feeding the hungry, forgiving the offender, seeking forgiveness, loving neighbor and enemy, and living in Jesus' word and showing his love is hard. Even showing up to worship, study, care, and serve amidst so many opportunities, possibilities, and distractions is hard.

Because faith is hard, the sixty-six books in our Bible repeatedly remind us that we need each other and call us to live in community. We often focus on larger than life heroes and heroines, but beneath and beyond them are communities reaching for freedom from slavery, holding on when driven into exile, rebuilding among the ruins, enduring occupation and domination, and discovering the eternal in the quotidian. According to Matthew, Jesus promised, "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Matthew 18:20). He does not disappear when we're alone, but we sense his presence more readily in community.

Because faith is hard, scripture makes loving God and neighbor foremost. Identifying enemies is easier, but being and making friends and neighbors lasts longer and transforms. Healthy and loving relationships require effort, patience, and endurance; yet, from those relationships we can confront and find our way through the realities that most threaten life, love, and goodness.

Because faith is hard, scripture consistently calls us to notice and care for the least of these. That does not come easily; yet, when those with the capacity to help notice and care for the least of these, everyone has a better chance of survival and, more importantly, better reason to trust in the existence, presence, and goodness of God.

John Calvin said it grimly: "Whomever the Lord has adopted and deemed worthy of his fellowship ought to prepare themselves for a hard, toilsome, and unquiet life, crammed with very many and various kinds of evil." Martin Luther said it as a challenge: "Many people have considered Christian faith an easy thing, and not a few have given it a place among the virtues. They do this because they have not experienced it and have never tasted the great strength there is in faith." Thomas Merton stated it poetically: "We too often forget that Christian faith is a principle of questioning and struggle before it becomes a principle of certitude and peace. One has to doubt and reject everything else in order to believe firmly in Christ, and after one has begun to believe, one's faith itself must be tested and purified." Jürgen Moltmann provided a theological context: "In the fellowship of the assailed and crucified Christ, faith grows up in the pains of one's own suffering and the doubts of one's own heart. Here the contradictions and rebellions do not have to be suppressed. They can be admitted." I prefer our confirmand's clarity: "Faith is hard." Thanks be to God that we have God and each other. Alleluia! Amen!  

Easter Blessings,

LP

Love, love, love...

"The second [commandment] is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself'" (Mark 12:31). We long have known that infants fare best in a loving environment. Our fundamental needs include affection and tenderness, i.e. love. A flurry of recent studies affirms that this need remains with us throughout our lives. Scientific studies into longevity, mental and physical health, happiness, and wisdom have identified "supportive relationships" [That sounds like love to me.] as one of the most accurate predictors that we will exhibit those positive attributes.

Our brains function better when we love and feel loved. Consider dating, as an example. When we begin to date, we begin to see the world through someone else's eyes. That leads our brains to forge new neural pathways. Our centers of pleasure also grow more active. Making a good friend can have the same impact, as can encountering someone truly other and attempting to understand that individual. Our possibilities of having wisdom and happiness increase.

Our egos become healthier when we love and feel loved. When we enter a deep and healthy relationship, we say "I" a lot less and "we" a lot more. We expand our understanding of who we are and who enriches, empowers, inspires, and stimulates us. That shapes who we are and deepens our appreciation of life.

We become more capable of dealing with the ups and downs of life when we love and feel love. Love makes us vulnerable. No one can hurt us more deeply than the person we most love. When a loving relationship fractures or ends, our entire bodies ache. Yet, love deepens our ability to recover from heartaches. A loving touch or word not only offers the benefit of the immediate pleasure and neural pathway stimulation, but also activates positive memories of previous positive experiences. Having our hand held by someone with whom we share love can lower elevated blood pressure, ease our response to stress, and lessen our feeling of physical and emotional pain.

For the good of our brains, egos, and emotions, let's continue to date the love of our lives. That person has had a major influence on what's best with and in us. Keep those neural pathways humming. It's fun and healthy.

For the good of our brains, egos, and emotions, let's intentionally be a friend several times daily. We lack sufficient energy to love everyone deeply, but the more we respond to others with love, the better they feel and the better we feel about who we are.

For the good of our brains, egos, and emotions, let's play with children whenever possible. No one has more capacity for fun than the typical child. Children awaken our capacity to love and when we love them, we strengthen their brains, egos, and emotions.

For the good of our brains, egos, and emotions, let's give thanks to God for the wonder of how we are made. When we love our neighbor we not only obey God but also do something good for ourselves! Alleluia! Amen!

Easter Blessings,

LP

Silence is precious - seek and allow it

How much silence do we seek and allow ourselves? Indeed, do we have sufficient awareness of the value of silence to compel us seek and allow it? In Does God Exist, theologian Hans Küng concludes, "Talk of God that does not, even in the last resort, emerge from silence and lead again into silence does not know with whom it is dealing." Why limit that to talk about God?

In silence we become aware or deepen our awareness of the wondrous being involved in all our doing. Moving from one sound to another without respite makes us automatons, who react to stimuli and accomplish tasks without fathoming the depths from which they spring and to which they lead. Silence adds soul to the sinew of our endeavors.

In silence we become aware or deepen out awareness of the fragility and preciousness of our lives. In moments not intentionally filled with sound we notice our breath, hear our hearts beat, and possibly even feel our blood circulating. Should any of that stop, so will we. In moments void of intentional distraction we sense our connectedness to everything around us. Mysteriously, silent moments apart fill us with longing and appreciation for communion and community.

In silence God touches us. "Be silent, and know that I am God" sings a psalmist, and "The Lord is in the holy temple; let all the earth keep silent" commands a prophet. Speaking expresses who we are. Silence awakens whose we are. Because it seems to accomplish so little, silence makes room for us to be the object of God's action instead of the subject of our own actions. We do not encounter God only in silence, but we encounter God wholly in silence.

At a significant juncture I penned these words: "If I could offer but one prayer, I would offer silence. Words of praise can ring through the air and bring melody to the breeze, but so can the devotion that brings one to one's knees. Sounds of thanksgiving could continue till the tongue grew dumb from fatigue and never express more than the quiet acknowledgement that all is because God is. Penitence, repentance, and confession all deepen one's relationship with God and making those acts vocal can enhance our experience of them; but behind them must lie a groaning so fragile spoken words would break it, the ache of the soul for the touch of the author of souls. We need to speak, but may God have mercy on those whose constant speech banishes them from the Eden of silence." Our best decisions emerge from and lead to silence.

In our world so wondrously and annoyingly filled with sounds, please seek and allow silence. Life and love will reap the harvest.

Easter Blessings,

LP