Bishop Lawrence Provenzano of the Episcopal Church lauded this school project in an e-mail to the class in which he said, “It is a terrific statement of faith and an important expression of your own sincerely held belief. …Your creed is a gift to me and the entire Diocese of Long Island and I am grateful for your sharing it with me.”
Bishop Provenzano offered his blessing for Caroline Church to use this creed during all liturgies on Mother’s Day, and invited the class to share it.
What did the kids come up with? This:
We believe in the Eternal, Sacred, and Mystical God, the Creator of all, who is powerful and all-knowing, who listens, loves, and forgives, and remains willing to be merciful and giving.
We believe in the Selfless, Divine and Human, Rebel Jesus, our Savior and BFFL*, who was a wanderer, healer, teacher, and storyteller. Although He died, He is living today.
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the mysterious breath of God, the friendly ghost and mighty wind, who is our comforter and protector.
We believe in God’s Holy Church. It invites and welcomes us home as God’s family. It is traditional, yet intimate. It is a place of learning and worship, where we are given discipline and structure while being fed with holy food and drink.
We believe in believing and learning, in prayer, mercy, and forgiving. We believe in miracles, beauty, and music. And we believe that we matter.
The tame God described in this creed reminds me of a scene in Neil Gaiman’s novel American Gods. The gods Woden and Ishtar, sitting in a coffee place in San Francisco, are arguing over whether anyone actually remembers or worships them. He calls to the waitress.
“I was just wondering if you could solve a little argument we were having over here. My friend and I were disagreeing over what the word ‘Easter’ means. Would you happen to know?”
The girl stared at him as if green toads had begun pushing their way between his lips. Then she said, “I don’t know about any of that Christian stuff. I’m a pagan. ”
“And tell me, as a pagan, who do you worship?”
“Worship?”
“That’s right. I imagine you must have a pretty wide-open field. So to whom do you set up your household altar? To whom do you bow down? To whom do you pray at dawn and dusk?”
Her lips described several shapes without saying anything before she said, “The female principle. It’s an empowerment thing. You know?”
“Indeed. And this female principle of yours. Does she have a name?”
“She’s the goddess within us all,” said the girl ith the eyebrow ring, color rising to her cheek. “She doesn’t need a name.”
“Ah,” said Wednesday, with a wide monkey grin, “so do you have might bacchanals in her honor? Do you drink blood wine under the full moon while scarlet candles burn in silver candleholders? Do you step naked into the seafoam, chanting ecstatically to your nameless goddess while the waves lick at your legs, lapping your thighs like the tongues of a thousand leopards?”
“You’re making fun of me,” she said. “We don’t do any of that stuff you were saying.”
…
“There,” said Wednesday, “is one who ‘does not have the faith and will not have the fun,’ Chesterton. Pagan indeed. ”
I don’t see anything to criticize, except its inadequacy. The Nicene Creed is inadequate. All statements about God are inadequate. I criticize them all. I certainly would not allow liturgical use of this piece, but as an exercize it seems quite on the mark. Keeping in mind its incompleteness and inadequacy.
I realize that the implied answer to the question which the title of this post asks is “No,” but I don’t see it.
I recognize the belief/attitude which says, “Because X is good, then nothing which is similar to X but is not X can be good.” The Nicene Creed is good; ergo, anything which is similar to it but not it, which does not accomplish exactly what it accomplishes, which does not begin and end with its precise concerns, can be good. But that seems rather nonsense to me. It reminds me of the objection I once heard from an Orthodox gentleman to a painting of St. Seraphim of Sarov in the woods with a bear. “It’s not a proper icon. An icon should….” Yeah, yeah. But this isn’t an icon, you numskull. It is something different, and quite valid in its own right. The problem was not with the non-icon which failed to follow even one of the conventions of Byzantine iconography. Goodness! It didn’t even say “St Seraphim of Sarov” near his head, nor did it say “Bear” near the head of that worthy creature. The problem was his ability to admit that the art painting could be used legitimately to produce something other than icons. In criticizing the painting by iconographic standards, his criticism was meaningless and irrelevant.
I criticize it most, by the way, because, “BFFL” notwithstanding, it obviously was not written by students.
I see your point. What bothers me about this creed is its lack of substance. The Nicene Creed was written for the express purpose of excluding Arians from baptism or ordination, so it intentionally sets out some benchmarks; it says, “Believe what you will, but here are a few hard and immovable facts with which not everyone will agree.” Its bare-minimum confession served to unite the Church (its Greek name, “the Symbol of the Faith” uses symbol in its original meaning of somehting which really does bring together separate things into a genuine union.)
This fluffy confession leaves out anything uncomfortable, difficult, demanding. It reminds me of a liberal Protestant pastor I once heard answering questions from inquirers. Most of the questions were excellent ones about ethics or dogma or paradoxes, and any or all could have opened a topic about salvation, sanctification, and pursuing God. But he answered every question with a smooth, comfortable pat answer; his goal wasn’t to help anyone struggle, but to make each listener glad they were a member of such a warm and wise group.
Maybe it’s just me, but this seems to me like a declawed Gospel, not well-suited either to offend or to save anyone from his sins.
The Nicene Creed is a direct powerful statement about the personal triune nature of God, the Incarnation and the eschaton. Of course it is inadequate, but isn’t that rather like saying a picture of St. Seraphim with a bear is not an icon?
The statemement is not really about God at all is it? It is about a certain type of human feeling . It denies the personal reality of God. The Incarnation is not really present, and The Comoforter as Casper the friendly ghost?
OK as an exercise in helping children begin to understand the nature of God, maybe but as a Creed–no. For adults especially in the context of the Episcopal milleau–no.
I see no problem with the creed as it is written by kids. Kids, you’ll remember, don’t have your fine theological knowledge. When adults do the ‘hokey pokey’ in church, we might worry!
I suppose people are turned off by that ‘burn in hell’ kind of chrisitianity, preached by conservative protestant reactionaries… non-orthodox churches are stuck with the doctrine of original sin. This makes God seem (to me) angry and unjust, stubborn, wrathful and unloving. Who wants to know a god like that? Original sin is bad news, it needs to be swept under the carpet. Just mention the nice stuff, and the pews will be filled.
I guess I would ask this: Which is worse, to repeat a creed you neither hear nor understand or this creed which, I assume, took actual effort and involvement by those who participated in its creation?
Or, did the creation of this creed further their limited understanding of the traditional creeds and/or God?
Regardless, I wouldn’t say it liturgically. It does smack quite a bit of “Buddy Jesus.” :-)
No, it is not. All fine and nice sentiments about God, the Church, and all, but little else.
For example, “Although He died, He is living today” is a far cry — as far as actual MEANING goes — not only from the stern, unequivocal words of the Nicene Creed, but also from St. Paul’s harsh “If Christ is not raised from the dead, our faith is in vain.” “He is living today” carries about as much credal punch as does calling Shakespeare “The Immortal Bard”.
@Kester, you offer a fair point, but one that raises the attendant point, if this took actual thought and effort, what kind of horrible job are these kids’ teachers doing in passing on the faith? And even at best, doesn’t this still give the message that you can call yourself a Christian while professing only the vaguest faith in Christ? With the blessing of the bishop, no less?
As far as creeds go, it is no more than lukewarm, and we all know what happens to lukewarm, don’t we.
As an actual Episcopalian I must say that I share the concerns as well as the less critical attitudes expressed
in the above posts. I see no information regarding the age of these school children so I find it somewhat difficult to make a determination as to “theological” age-appropriateness.
My guess is that these were younger children who offered individual input and someone, perhaps a teacher, helped to arrange their thoughts into the form we see here.
If I am correct I would say that these children have been given some rather excellent catechesis.
I would hardly expect youngsters to formulate profound statements of faith but to express what God means to them in the most personal sense. Having a firm grasp of God as Trinity is a rather good place to begin deepening and enlarging understanding. And giving children such a role in the liturgy, or rather one liturgy, on Mother’s Day nonetheless, is perhaps a means of piqueing their interest in the ancient creeds and the liturgy itself (BFFL notwithstanding…lol).
Whatever me and thee think of it is largely inconsequential.
It was done to the glory of God and approved by an episkopos.
I would like to believe that my God, our God, was thoroughly delighted and glorified by these young brothers and sisters in and of Christ.