Thoughts on the Divine Service
16. The Creeds
Dear friends,
I have this nagging suspicion that I’ve written an email about creeds fairly recently; but as we meander through the liturgy a little each week, creeds are the next thing in line.
A creed is simply a statement of beliefs: the word comes from the Latin credo, which means “I believe.” Technically, “I believe that changing my socks daily” is a creed; and, though admirable, it is not a Christian creed. There are three Christian creeds that are generally considered to be “ecumenical creeds,” or creeds that all Christians believe.
The oldest, and shortest, is the Apostles’ Creed. In the early church when adult converts were baptized, they declared their faith in God by confessing the Apostles’ Creed. Even today when someone is baptized, we make use of the Apostles’ Creed in the form of questions. Tradition holds that it’s called the Apostles’ Creed because each apostle contributed one phrase, which is just way too cute to be true. A far better explanation is that it’s called the Apostles’ Creed because it says what the Apostles taught, and they taught what Jesus taught.
The Nicene Creed emerges from the Councils of Nicaea (325 AD) and Constantinople (381 AD). These councils met to discuss several heresies, the most notable being Arianism which taught that Jesus was a created being rather than the eternal Son of God. Because this Creed especially focused on the person and work of Jesus, it’s the one we say during a service of Holy Communion in which we receive Christ’s body and blood.
The Athanasian Creed is the longest. Its origin is mysterious, appearing in France in the late 5th century. The first half is a careful treatment of the Holy Trinity, while the second half confesses the two natures of Jesus. We confess the Athanasian Creed once a year, on Holy Trinity Sunday.
Each of the ecumenical creeds is painstakingly composed to say what the Bible says about God; and from what we know of their origins, we know that Christians were willing to suffer exile or worse rather than deny their content. We’re not facing the same threat-level of persecution, though, so why do we keep confessing the Creeds? Here are four reasons.
First, faith loves to talk about God. If you lived in Boise back in 2007, you’ll remember when underdog Boise State improbably defeated Oklahoma in the Fiesta Bowl (in multiple overtimes with trick plays and the star running back proposing to his cheerleader girlfriend after scoring the winning touchdown). I’ve never seen a more exuberant city before or since: for the next few days, everybody I met wore a smile and wanted to talk about the game. People who didn’t know a football from a kumquat were suddenly saying, “That’s my team!” This is how I envision faith: depending upon where the creed is placed in the sermon, faith has just heard the Gospel reading or the sermon, which means it’s just heard about Jesus and His salvation for sinners. Exuberated with such good news, faith wants to talk, too! “Did you just hear that about Jesus?,” I imagine it saying; “That’s my Savior! I believe in God the Father almighty,” and then faith is off and running, joyful to talk about the Lord. This is the easiest way to honor Jesus’ words, “So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 10:32-33).
Second, that faith wants to say what the Lord says about Himself, and so faith is happy to say what Scripture says. When I was first ordained, it was a fad in many churches for the pastor to write up a new creed every week, lest people get bored saying the same old thing. Faith doesn’t get bored with who God is and what He has done for our salvation, because that’s the central message of Scripture. If one becomes bored speaking the creed, the problem is not the words but the speaker.
Third, faith delights in the communion of saints. When we say any of the ecumenical creeds, we declare that we share the same faith in the same words as all of God’s people through centuries and around the world. Again in contrast to the faddish “creed of the day,” this is not the faith of merely the folks gathered at Good Shepherd on a certain Sunday, but these are truths that Christians have clung to as kingdoms rise and fall. In a world of sinners where everybody wants their own way, I can’t tell you how comforting it is to hear all of you saying the same thing about the Lord in unison.
Fourth, the creeds are a great tool for witnessing. Imagine a very possible scenario where your long-time friend or neighbor finally says, “What you do believe at that church you go to, anyway?” Where do you start to answer? I think the Apostles’ Creed is an excellent choice. In fact, you’re doing great just by saying, “Well, let me recite what we say we believe in the Apostles’ Creed, and then you can ask me questions.” (And if you know explanations to the Creed in the Small Catechism, you can answer a lot of questions!)
As a youngster in the pew waiting for church to be done, I considered the creeds to be a terrible waste of time. No more! It’s an opportunity for faith to rejoice, for the Church to talk about Jesus, and to send any nearby demons fleeing in terror. Christ is our Lord: let’s talk about Him!
A few nerdy-notes? Why not?
• Some will argue that there is a fourth ecumenical creed, namely the Te Deum Laudamus that we sing in matins. It certainly is a great, true confession of faith!
• Regarding the third point, the Nicene Creed actually first said, “We believe,” not “I believe.” Against the heretics of Arianism, the bishops who composed the creed made it a point that the Christian faith is a shared confession, not an individual thing.
• Yep, “exuberate” is a word.