For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. 1 Corinthians 15:3-5
“Well, you’ve
got to have faith, haven’t you?”
Cheerful,
positive people often say something like that if you ask them how they’re
coping with the pressures of life. And good for them. It’s better to be
positive than negative, better to be an optimist than a pessimist.
But sometimes
you can’t help wondering what they actually mean. Faith in what, exactly? Even
more, faith in who? The way they speak of faith makes it seem like some
free-floating substance that you can somehow breathe in or drink in and then
draw on when you need to confront trials. Is that really anything more
substantial than “always looking on the bright side of life”?
Yes, it may
be better than collapsing into anxiety, but it’s far from what Christians mean –
or should mean - when they talk about faith. For the Christian, faith has content
and substance; it’s more than simply a mood or a personality disposition.
From the
earliest days of the church, Christians have attempted to summarise the essence
of their faith in brief formulas, statements known as “creeds”.
The nearest
thing we get to it in the New Testament is 1 Corinthians 15, quoted above,
where Paul feels the need to “remind” the somewhat flaky believers in Corinth
of what robust, red-blooded faith means. Not surprisingly, he focusses on the
death of Jesus “for our sins”, on his burial, on his bodily resurrection “on
the third day”, and on his “appearances” to Cephas (that’s Simon Peter), then
to the rest of the apostles, and then to large numbers, including (wonder of
wonders!) himself.
It's very
brief – but there’s nothing airy-fairy about it, is there!
Probably some
three or four hundred years later the “Apostles’ Creed” was composed (nobody
knows for sure who by): this covers far more…
I
believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus
Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived from the Holy Spirit and born
of the virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, was dead
and was buried. He descended into hell, rose again from the dead on the third
day, ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father
Almighty. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the
Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness
of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.
That’s truly packed with
substance!
In some church traditions this
or something similar is recited regularly. I was converted in a tradition which
doesn’t use such forms of “liturgy” – and occasionally I have regretted that,
for while liturgy can become repetitive and mechanical, if used thoughtfully it
can also have the effect of (a) binding a congregation together (start “we”
rather than “I”) and (b) anchoring it in history, in days when the church is
often prey to (I nearly said plagued by) faddish novelties. The church wasn’t
born just 40 or 50 years ago; we modern Christians have inherited a long and
rich inheritance, and we are arrogant and foolish if we neglect that. (The word
“catholic”, of course, with a small c, simply means “universal”.)
(Mind you, churches like the ones I have belonged
to can get round the problem by singing a creed – Graham Kendrick, for one, set
the Apostles’ Creed to lively music some thirty-five years ago with “We believe
in God the Father”. Well done, Mr Kendrick, say I.)
All this presents a real
challenge to anyone claiming to be a Christian: How substantial is my faith?
Or, to put it the other way round, is my faith vague and little more than
wishful thinking?
Not every Christian can be a
theologian, with a grasp of all the niceties of Christian doctrine. But Jesus
tells us to love the Lord our God with all our mind, as well as with all
our heart, soul and strength. And that means giving serious thought to what the
Bible – even the difficult parts – means. And that, in turn, means taking
seriously a regular discipline of reading and thinking. The old-fashioned word
is “meditating”.
We live in a world where many unchurched
people have not deliberately rejected Christianity (in spite of what we
sometimes say), but have simply never been invited to engage with it and have
therefore given up. We have failed to pique their interest so that they want to
understand more. (Perhaps, too, they can’t see that our lives are significantly
changed by what we profess to believe.)
I said at the beginning that
the key thing about faith is not just faith in what but also
faith in who. Words, however important, can deaden as well as enlighten,
so we need always to remember that what ultimately matters is a relationship
– a relationship with God as our loving heavenly Father through faith in Jesus
Christ, his Son.
And so we need to ask
ourselves, Is that my experience? Have I become a new person through this great
thing called faith?
Faith, then… a vague hoping for the best, or the living,
dynamic mainspring of my life? That’s the key question.
But thinking about creeds raises other issues as well; so I
hope you might join me next time as I return to this theme…
Father, thank you that Christian faith rests on
facts, not feelings, that certain wonderful events actually happened and have
changed everything. Help me to be a true witness to this, in both words and
deeds. Amen.
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