June 29: Well over 75 children, over 40 youth and adult volunteers and another 25 neighborhood adults enjoyed a night on the street with pizza, praise songs and a praise dancer, a weaving project, fun games and hearing the story of the Lost Sheep. What a celebration of God’s people gathered in one place- provided by Rehoboth Church of God, Save Another Youth, One Heart, One Way Ministry, Hunting Ridge Presbyterian, St. Edward’s Roman Catholic. Can’t wait for tonight!
Community police officers joined in a game of “duck, duck goose”. What a gift!
As we meander through this Apostles Creed this summer, a question has arisen in my mind. Why do we bother with this creed in the first place? Why pull together the core of our faith in such a way that we can all speak it aloud together? After all, it can get kind of repetitive, can it not? It puts us in a box. It doesn’t allow for our individuality…
We bother with the creed because we need the reminders. The little piece we heard this morning of a long sermon addressed generally to “the Hebrews” begins with words of encouragement: let’s hold on to the confession. (Hebrews 4:14-5:10) The preacher (unnamed) and the worshippers clearly have agreed on their belief in Jesus Christ, the Son of God who experienced everything we experience, even up to death. Together they proclaim who Jesus is. But if you read further in chapter 5, the preacher accuses the people of being lazy and unwilling to listen. We can understand the folks in his church. Maybe life has just gotten in the way. Maybe other issues and events have piled up in the forefront, burying the confession of faith they once made loud and clear. Maybe they are just occupying space in the pew without really connecting with Jesus any more. We all need reminders.
We bother with the creed because as we say the words we are putting ourselves smack in the middle of a map that provides guidance and direction for expressing who we really are. Our very identity, our self understanding is wrapped up in what we believe. Continue reading