Confessing the Faith (Or: Telling the Story)

In the last chapter of the book of Joshua, after leaving Egypt under the leadership of Moses, and after traveling forty years through the wilderness and entering the promised land that flows with milk and honey, Joshua - Moses' successor - summons all the leaders of the people to a place called Shechem to remind them of God's mighty works that they have experienced in history. He tells them a story. He tells them their story. Beginning with the decisive moment when Abraham heard God calling his name (see Genesis 12:1), then retelling the story of the major events that have led them to this point, Joshua reminds the leaders of the people of Israel and who their God ishow they have experienced God working in the here-and-now. Many of the events Joshua reminds those people about were events that happened long before they were born, but no matter: this story is their story, whether or not they were alive when those events happened. This is the story that identifies who these people are: they are the people who worship the God who has done these things in their communal life.

Some of the Psalms tell similar stories. Some of the Psalms recount God's works in creation (see, for example, Psalm 104); others recount God's works in history (see, for example, Psalm 105). The events recorded in these psalms happened long before poets composed these psalms and long before people sang them in worship, but no matter: these stories are their stories, whether or not they were alive when those events happened. These stories identify who these people are: they are the people who worship the God who has done these things in their communal life.

Much later on in the biblical story, in the days shortly following the resurrection, as the apostles of Jesus are telling other people about who Jesus is and why he matters, they routinely tell stories. On the day of Pentecost (Acts 2), after the Holy Spirit has manifested itself in surprising new ways, Peter stands up and gives a big long speech in which he tells a story, a story about how they have experienced God in the here-and-now through the person and work of Jesus Christ. After Peter heals the lame man at the gate of the temple and a whole crowd gathers to see what has happened (Acts 3), Peter tells a story, a story about how the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob has glorified his servant Jesus, and about how it is faith in Jesus that has made this man walk. When Stephen is arrested for blasphemy, is brought before the Jewish high counsil, and is given a chance to defend himself (Acts 7), Stephen tells a story, a long story that begins with Abraham and culminates in Jesus.

Other New Testament books tell similar stories. When Paul writes to the Corinthians, he reminds them of their central story (1 Corinthians 15:1-11, a passage I preached on just a few weeks ago), and of course none of the people he was speaking to were present in person for any of the events he describes. Over and over again throughout the biblical text, the people of God tell a story - their story - about who their God is and how they have experienced God working in the here-and-now. Most of the events reported in most of these stories happened long before these people were born, but no matter: this story is their story. It is the story that identifies who these people are: they are the people who worship the God who has done these things in their communal life.

Over the course of the next two thousand years, there have been a multitude of occasions when the Christian community has paused to retell the story. When adults were joining the Christian community by baptism in the ancient city of Rome, they would retell the story using words that look remarkably similar to what we now call the Apostles' Creed. When there was some confusion about matters of faith and doctrine during the fourth century, representatives from the church in diverse places gathered together to figure out which portions of the story really matter, and the result of that gathering is what we now call the Nicene Creed. When the Protestant Reformers were trying to figure out what really stands at the bedrock of Christian faith, they retold the story yet again. During the chaos of the English Civil War, learned churchmen gathered at Westminster Abbey in the city of London to figure out what elements of the story really matter in the here-and-now. When Adolf Hitler was rising to power in Germany in the early 1930s, some concerned clergy and theologians gathered in a city called Barmen to boldly proclaim that Hitler's programs and policies stand in contrast to the gospel story of Jesus Christ. When our country was going through a turbulent period of strife and division in the late 1960s, Presbyterians affirmed that the gospel story is a story of reconciliation, reconciliation between us and God, and reconciliation among humanity. When South Africa was struggling to outgrow its history of racial bigotry and apartheid during the 1980s, leaders in the Dutch Reformed Mission Church gathered in a suburb of Cape Town called Belhar to articulate how that gospel story of Jesus Christ cannot tolerate racial injustice, since Christ calls all people to be one in him. When the historic "southern" branch and the historic "northern" branch of the Presbyterian Church in the United States rejoined in 1983, after 122 years' worth of division that began with the Civil War, representatives from both branches gathered together to retell our common story, articulating who God is and how we have experienced God working in the here-and-now.

The result of all these labors of love are what we call the "confessions" of the church. Each confession is, basically, a story - a story about who we understand God to be, a story about how we have experienced God working in the here-and-now. In our tradition, there are eleven official confessional statements: two from the ancient church (the Apostles' Creed and the Nicene Creed), three from the days of the Protestant Reformation (the Scots Confession, the Heidelberg Catechism, and the Second Helvetic Confession), three from the days of the English Civil War (the Westminster Confession of Faith, the Westminster Shorter Catechism, and the Westminster Larger Catechism), and three from the past hundred years (the Barmen Declaration, the Confession of 1967, and A Brief Statement of Faith). All these confessions can be found in our Book of Confessions, which is the second most important book to us Presbyterians (the first is the Bible, and the third is the Book of Order). Banners representing all those different confesions - all those different stories - hang along the rear wall of our sanctuary. Currently, discussion is under way about possibly adding a twelfth confession to our Book of Confessions, the Belhar Confession from South Africa.

When leaders take office in this tradition - when people are ordained and installed as Deacons, Elders, or Ministers of Word and Sacrament - they are asked to make several promises. Vows, really. These ordination and installation vows are kind of like wedding vows - promises made publicly before God and in the presence of one another, promises not to be taken lightly. One of those vows is this: "Do you sincerely receive and adopt the essential tenets of the Reformed faith as expressed in the confessions of our church as authentic and reliable expositions of what Scripture leads us to believe and do, and will you be instructed and led by those confessions as you lead the people of God?" The leadership of the church - your Pastor, your Elders, and your Deacons - all have affirmed the central importance of these confessions in our living faith today.

We Presbyterians have a particular heritage, a heritage similar to and yet different from the heritage of countless other Christian traditions, and that heritage is not something to be neglected. We are Christians, yes, but we are also unique Christians - Christians with a particular kind of identity, an identity that has been shaped by prayer, thought, and experience within a living tradition. Our particular tradition has a number of distinctive themes that surface again and again: the affirmation of the majesty, holiness, and providence of God, who creates, sustains, rules, and redeems the world in the freedom of sovereign righteousness and love; the election of the people of God for service as well as for salvation; covenant life marked by a disciplined concern for order in the church according to the Word of God; a faithful stewardship that shuns ostentation and seeks proper use of the gifts of God's creation; and the recognition of the hyman tendency to idolatry and tyranny, which calls the people of God to work for the transformation o society by seeking justice and living in obedience to the Word of God. These convictions, and others like them, stand at the core of our understanding of what it means to be Presbyterian Christians, faithfully seeking to live out God's story in the here-and-now. So long as I am your pastor (which I intend to be for a good long time!), I will work diligently to uphold the vows that I took when I was ordained to the ministry of Word and Sacrament, vows that I reaffirmed when I was installed as your Pastor. I will work diligently to lift up these themes, and others like them, again and again and again - because that's my responsibility, and because that's who we are.

In recent years, it has been the custom here in this congregation to recite the Apostles' Creed (or, less frequently, the Nicene Creed) every week during worship. That's a good practice - reciting the story of the central convictions of the Christian faith. It keeps the central affirmations about God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit front-and-center. Yet reciting the same exact formula week after week after week runs certain risks. It's possible that the words might become hollow. It's possible that we might fall into the trap of simply "going through the motions." It's possible that we might not be thinking about what we're saying. It's possible that some of us might not readily identify with those words as much as we might with some other different-but-similar words. It's possible that we might find ourselves wondering what these ancient words have to do with a contemporary faith.

Therefore: we're going to diversify.

In the months and years to come, we're going to continue to affirm our trust in God in worship. We're going to continue to retell the story of our faith. Just as the people of God retold their story (our story!) in the days of Joshua, just as the psalmists retold their story (our story!) in poetry and song, just as the apostles retold their story (our story!) following the resurrection of Jesus Christ, so too are we going to continue to tell and retell our story. But we're going to expand and diversify the maner in which we do this. Just as, in the Bible, the story was told and retold in a variety of different ways, so too are we going to tell and retell the story in a variety of different ways. In the Bible, when the story was retold again and again, it wasn't always told the same way. Sometimes, different themes were emphasized. Sometimes, certain portions of the story were told that weren't told on other occasions. Sometimes, the story was short; sometimes, it was long. It's important - vitally important - that we keep telling and retelling the story, because this story reminds us who our God is and how we have experienced God working in the here-and-now, but there's no rule anywhere that says we have to do it exactly the same way week after week after week. In fact, if we take the biblical witness as a guide, perhaps there's some benefit to telling and retelling the story in different ways. Perhaps it's important not to tell it exactly the same way time and time again. Perhaps a little diversity in our storytelling is a good thing.

So here's just a little taste of what's ahead, in the months and years to come: (1) We're going to continue to use the Apostles' Creed periodically. But, in addition to the "traditional" translation that you're pretty familiar with, we'll also be using a more contemporary "ecumenical" translation. Sometimes, we'll say it all together as one body; other times (as you've seen already, at our installation of officers in January and at our reception of new members on Easter Sunday), it will be in a question-and-answer format. There are even some musical versions of the Apostles' Creed that we'll start using! (2) We're going to continue to use the Nicene Creed periodically (somewhat less often than we use the Apostles' Creed). The Nicene Creed is the most ecumenical of all the Christian creeds; it's the one creed that is used by the Roman Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox Church, and many Protestant churches. (3) We're going to begin using the most recent Presbyterian confession, "A Brief Statement of Faith." (You can find the whole text of "A Brief Statement of Faith" in the pages of this newsletter.) As mentioned above, A Brief Statement of Faith was created following the reunion of our denomination in 1983, by representatives from both our "northern" and "southern" branches, as a way of affirming what we hold in common. It is a Trinitarian creed - affirming our trust in God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit - that deliberately borrows many phrases from the Bible itself and that was intentionally written in a way to facilitate its use in worship. It is too long to recite all at once (it is brief compared to the very large confessions written during the Reformation - but it's not that brief!); we will use certain portions on some weeks, and other portions on other weeks. You'll notice, as you start to become familiar with this confession, that it includes - among other things - a poetic summary of Jesus' life and ministry (not simply moving straight from his birth to his death, as most older confessions do), an ecological concern for our stewardship of God's creation, an articulation of the manifold ways the Holy Spirit works in this world here and now, and affirmations that we hold both women and men to be created equally in God's image and that we believe God calls both women and men to all offices in the church (which are two affirmations that set us apart from many other Christian traditions). (4) From time to time, we'll use classic portions of some of the other confessions in our tradition - portions that have withstood the test of time. (5) All of this will be tied to the liturgical year, or other special celebrations: we'll use some form of the Apostles' Creed every time there is a baptism . . . we'll probably use the Nicene Creed on World Communion Sunday . . . we'll use one of the ancient confessions every time we celebrate communion . . . we'll use the portion of A Brief Statement of Faith that pertains to the Holy Spirit in the weeks between Easter and Pentecost . . . and so on. In other words, we'll be putting some careful thought into what confessions we use when, and why. Slowly, over time, I believe you will come to have a deep and abiding appreciation for the richness of our tradition. (One of the things I love about being a Presbyterian is that we have such an incredible degree of depth in our tradition - when we take the time to "scratch the surface" and really look at what's there!)

So we, the people of God, will continue to tell a story. We will continue to tell our story, a story about who our God is and how we have experienced God working in the here-and-now. Most of the events in these stories happened long before any of us were born, but no matter: these stories are our stories. They are the stories that identify who we are: we are the people who worship the God who has done these things in our communal life . . . praise be to God!

Peace and blessings,

Rev. Bill Pinches
Pastor