The Creed
Welcome to the final message in the hot mess series, and the last installment of my faith is a hot mess. And all God's people said: finally. It's been a journey - challenging, and at times genuinely uncomfortable, whether because of the material, the viewpoints, or the way I presented them. I'll own my part as the presenter when ideas got lost in transmission. (Note to self: don't reference elephant dung on a Sunday morning.) But I think a few of those topics were such hot buttons that some of you heard one thing that rubbed you the wrong way and then stopped hearing everything after it.
So let me clear up a couple of conclusions people reached. Was I telling you to swap your old beliefs for new ones? No - you're free to, but I wasn't advocating it. I must have said "we can agree to disagree" a hundred and fifty times. Was I mocking anyone's beliefs? Absolutely not. A lot of you also said kind things - thanking me for addressing your doubts, for throwing a lifeline, for trying to make a place at the table for people who are struggling. I appreciate that more than you know.
Why I didn't "share both sides"
Some asked why I didn't present both sides - though really the question is why I didn't present all the sides, because it isn't binary; there are many views out there. A few honest reasons: I have limited time, and I figured most of you were already deeply familiar with your own side. Some of you were so familiar you proved my point, handing me chapter, verse, and notebooks of counter-quotations. But knowing your side wasn't the goal. The goal was to talk about the topics people commonly cite when they're struggling or deconstructing - to build empathy, and to understand that there are legitimate reasons this is hard for some people.
It's easy to debate a topic and refute an idea. It's much harder to respect, minister to, and find common ground with the people you disagree with - and I believe that's what we're called to do. A lot of times, people's struggles have nothing to do with a lack of faith or education. Scripture and some aspects of our faith are genuinely complex, and I hope sitting with that gives us more patience and kindness toward those who see things differently.
I'm preaching to myself here. I haven't always been, as James puts it, quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. I've been quick to debate and quick to hand out pat answers that satisfied me but didn't meet others where they were. The longer I do this, the more I realize a lot of theology isn't pat answers - it's conversation.
Where peace actually comes from
Sometimes we think following Jesus means being right about everything with no doubts, and that having it all wrapped up in a neat bow is what brings peace. That's not what Scripture says. Paul writes that peace comes from bringing everything to God in prayer:
Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. - Philippians 4:7
Peace is a fruit of the Spirit - something God produces in us, not something manufactured by perfect interpretations or having all the answers (which is impossible this side of heaven). Why is so much of theology a back-and-forth? For one thing, we're not God. For another, God is so much bigger than the theological boxes we build to contain him. Even if we got all our doctrine exactly right, it would be like dipping a red Solo cup into the Pacific and thinking we'd grasped the whole ocean.
The zebra lady
Years ago I took some young adults to hear the philosopher and apologist William Lane Craig speak. The lecture was great - but as always, the real main event is the Q&A, where anyone can say anything. One woman got up, quite tense, and asked whether a loving God would have allowed animals to eat one another in the Garden of Eden before the fall. Craig, ever calm and logical, granted the premise and gently allowed that if it was God's plan and he had good reasons, it wouldn't negate his being all-loving. She did not care for that answer. It escalated - foot tapping, voice rising, "A loving God would not allow the death of innocent zebras!" - while half the room sat tense and the other half stifled laughter. I'll admit I was firmly in the second half.
And I learned my lesson the hard way. Afterward, in the restroom, I was doing a full impression - "no, sir, no dying zebras!" - complete with sound effects, and my buddies were cracking up. Until, suddenly, they weren't. They'd quietly slipped out and left me performing solo. I stepped out of the stall to find Dr. Craig himself washing his hands at the sink, having heard the whole thing. He gave me a tight-lipped, scholarly, friendly look that said, "Really?" I've only watched him online ever since.
Why tell you that? Three reasons. First, any bonus belief - even about zebras and lions before the fall - can trip us up and trip each other up if we let it. Second, listen to enough of these debates and you'll see how often we've taken our focus off the person of Jesus and put it on hypotheticals and in-house arguments. And third, something Craig said in another answer stuck with me. Asked whether Noah's flood was local or global, he essentially said - and I'm paraphrasing - that what he cares about most is people understanding there's a God who created everything and coming to salvation through his Son; once they do, a lot of the rest is in-house argument. His instinct was to remove as many barriers as possible to people coming to faith.
Maybe it is a bit of a smorgasbord
When I started out as a youth pastor, I used to say faith is not a spiritual smorgasbord - take the whole thing or leave it, bonus beliefs included. You know what? I was wrong. When it comes to bonus beliefs, it kind of is a smorgasbord. Inerrancy, verbal plenary inspiration, literalism, the roles of women in the church, how we interpret certain passages - we can take or leave a lot of that and still agree to disagree.
But there are some beliefs that are non-negotiable - the core, essential ones - and historically the church has expressed them through creeds. The word comes from the Latin credo, "I believe." Scripture is full of them. Moses gave Israel a simple one:
The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. - Deuteronomy 6:4
And when Jesus asked his disciples who they thought he was, Peter answered, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." That confession became the heart of the creeds that followed. Do you know the very earliest creed of the church? Three words: Jesus is Lord.
If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. - Romans 10:9
From there the New Testament expands on these essentials - one God the Father and one Lord Jesus Christ in 1 Corinthians 8:6; the heart of the gospel in 1 Corinthians 15:3-4, that Christ died for our sins, was buried, and rose again on the third day, just as the Scriptures said.
From three words to drowning in dogma
As time went on, the early church fathers gathered these non-negotiables into fuller statements. Irenaeus - only a couple of steps removed from the apostle John - wrote a proto-creed called the "rule of faith," confessing one God the Father, maker of all; one Christ Jesus who became incarnate for our salvation; and the Holy Spirit who spoke through the prophets. Hippolytus of Rome turned the essentials into baptismal questions: Do you believe in God the Father? In Christ Jesus the Son? In the Holy Spirit? - with a dunk for each. (So if you get baptized here, you're not getting the full treatment. Be sure to ask for the triple-dip.)
Now imagine getting dunked for every bonus belief too: Do you believe in inerrancy? Verbal plenary inspiration? Literalism? A closed canon? On and on you'd go - from being baptized in Christ to literally drowning in dogma. By contrast, here's the simple declaration we ask of our baptism candidates: Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. Sounds an awful lot like that earliest creed, doesn't it?
So how did the church drift from three words to membership documents that read like a record-company contract, fine print included? We're guilty of it too. I don't think the motives were bad, but I think we drifted from the point - until statements of faith became less about what makes someone a Christian and more about what makes someone our kind of Christian. As J. Warner Wallace puts it, we get so worried about having all the correct beliefs that we lose sight of the correct object of faith, which is Jesus Christ.
Bottom-line theology
There's one creed that keeps the emphasis right where it belongs - no supplemental material, just the uncompromisable core. It's traditionally called the Apostles' Creed:
We believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth;
and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father, and will come to judge the living and the dead.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy universal church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.
There's a wide range of beliefs in our church about a lot of the things we've discussed these past weeks. We don't have consensus on every bonus belief. But is there a single card-carrying Christian who can't get behind the Apostles' Creed? It's bottom-line theology - the core of what it means to follow Jesus. Can we, as a church and as individuals, strip away the unnecessary rules and rediscover the basics?
Too much of Christian culture has looked like people sitting outside an ice-cream shop, bitter and judgmental, scolding everyone else: "You got rainbow sprinkles? That's not real ice cream. Chocolate chip is the only real ice cream." How about we stop gatekeeping, sit down next to one another, enjoy our ice cream together, and say to one another, "Isn't this good?" - and then call out to the people walking by:
Taste and see that the Lord is good. - Psalm 34:8
What our beliefs make us do
It's not just about believing in Jesus - what matters just as much is what our beliefs cause us to do. People take offense at beliefs different from their own. But you know what's never offensive? Loving your neighbor. Caring for the poor and the needy. Showing grace, mercy, and compassion. Loving one another despite our differences.
Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples. - John 13:35
Can we worry less about drowning people in dogma and more about pouring out the love of Christ? Can we build bridges with one another, and with a community that needs to experience that love - so that we can truly say to everyone: you who are brokenhearted, come; you who are poor, come; you who are rejected, you who have no hope, come and be filled. Let's be that safe haven in the South Bay, helping people find and follow Jesus - whether they're just starting out, deconstructing, reconstructing, or just trying to figure it all out.
The basics, one more time
We were separated from a holy God by our sin. But God loved us so much that he gave his only Son. Jesus came fully God and fully man, never sinned, and so became the perfect sacrifice. On the cross he took the sins of the world - past, present, and future - upon himself, building a bridge back to God. Three days later he rose, showing his power over death itself. He offers abundant life with real meaning here, and eternal life in the place he's preparing for us, if we'll put our trust in him.
If you're ready to do that for the first time today and say Jesus is Lord, you can pray a prayer like this:
Dear Lord Jesus, I know that I'm a sinner. I know I've done wrong things. Please forgive me of my sins. Right now I ask you to be the Lord of my life. Help me to turn from my sins and follow you. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins, for rising again on the third day and taking those sins away, for saving me, and for preparing a place for me. In Jesus' name, amen.
If you prayed that prayer, it's the best decision you'll ever make, and I can't wait to serve alongside you. Come see me after a service, or email me at josh@seacoastredondo.com.
We made it - some of you can come out of hiding now. I hope you'll join us next week for a bit of a palate cleanser as we start something new. If this series helped you at all, drop me a line and let me know. Until next time, let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts, for as members of one body we are called to live in peace. God bless you.