Every Sunday, like clockwork, we stand and say one of the Creeds. For most of my career in ministry, Nicene Creed usually, sometimes the Apostles’, and on high occasions, we might even dust off the Athanasian — though I suspect if we tried that one, half the congregation would faint from lack of oxygen before the “not three eternals but one eternal” bit.
Now, why do I keep saying the Creeds? After all, I’ve known them by heart since I was a child. I’ve mouthed those words when I’ve believed them deeply, and I’ve muttered them when I wasn’t quite sure what I believed at all. I’ve stumbled over them with a dry throat, and I’ve proclaimed them at Easter as if heaven itself could hear.
I say them because, at their core, the Creeds are not just a laundry list of theological statements. They are a communal anchor. A kind of “we believe,” not “I believe alone in my corner.” When I stumble, the Church carries me. When I can’t find words, the ancient words find me.
There’s a kind of spiritual muscle memory in saying the Creeds. It’s like riding a bicycle, except with fewer bruised knees and slightly less wobbling (unless you’re kneeling and your leg falls asleep). The repetition plants truth in us, whether or not we feel particularly faithful on a given day.
And here’s the funny bit. In our age, we’re suspicious of repetition. We prefer the new, the novel, the shiny. Yet we repeat all sorts of things gladly: we watch reruns of our favourite shows, we order the same coffee every morning, we complain about the weather every February. (Some of us even still sing “Happy Birthday” though, if we’re honest, it may be the dullest melody ever written.) Repetition gives rhythm and shape to life.
The Creeds do the same for faith. They remind us that God’s story doesn’t change with the headlines. They place us, week after week, inside the unbroken company of believers stretching back centuries. Even when I mutter, or wonder, or wrestle, I am still joined to the saints in saying: “We believe…”
So why do I keep saying the Creeds? Because in their repetition, I find something stronger than my own doubts. I find a reminder that faith is not about inventing new truths every Sunday, but about being re-rooted in the eternal Truth that carries me when my own legs won’t.
And besides, if a comedian can make us laugh by retelling the same joke in slightly different ways, surely I can repeat the Creeds every week without complaint. At least the Creed never forgets the punchline.
Prayer:
Eternal God,
You have given us words of faith to steady our hearts,
and a community to carry us when we falter.
As we repeat the ancient Creeds,
remind us that we are not alone —
we stand with the saints of every age,
rooted in your unchanging truth.
Strengthen us when our belief feels weak,
and teach us that even in repetition,
your Spirit breathes fresh life.
Through Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
Amen.