The Father—Maker of Heaven and Earth (2)

Series illustration:

There’s this old joke that was part of Emo Philips’ stand-up routine in the early 1980s that has actually been voted in the Guardian as the funniest religious joke of all time, so you may have heard it, but it goes like this:

Once, I saw this guy on a bridge about to jump. I said, “Don’t do it!” He said, “Nobody loves me.” I said, “God loves you. Do you believe in God?”

He said, “Yes.” I said, “Are you a Christian or a Jew?” He said, “A Christian.” I said, “Me, too! Protestant or Catholic?” He said, “Protestant.” I said, “Me, too! What franchise?” He said, “Baptist.” I said, “Me, too! Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?” He said, “Northern Baptist.” I said, “Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist or Northern Liberal Baptist?”

He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist.” I said, “Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region, or Northern Conservative Baptist Eastern Region?” He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region.” I said, “Me, too!”

Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?” He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912.” I said, “Die, heretic!” And I pushed him over.

Series Introduction: So, today, we begin our next series, in which we will journey through the articles from the Apostles Creed. Now, don’t let that scare you; we are a general or collective Protestant service, and my own Christian heritage is just as representative of the diversity of this room. So, I want to be bold, and that is my goal. Still, we must do so with graciousness and humility, which is why it’s probably important to explore this topic, which can be divisive and contentious. Acknowledging that we’ve got Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Evangelicals, and so many more denominations and persuasions, I could spend the rest of our time simply listing.

Proposition:

It’s my goal today to introduce our series along with some vocabulary, as well as take a look at the first statement we see in the Apostles Creed.

‘Why’:

The point of diving into some doctrine is to build up the body of Christ, equipping the saints for service, because there is some effectual expectation, right? I just kind of paraphrased Ephesians 4:12, verse 11 says some are “called to be apostles, prophets, some to be evangelists, and others to be pastors and teachers.” Paul also tells the Corinthians that there are many parts, but one body, telling them not to desire the callings of or place one’s value above others. While there are many takeaways from corroborating these two passages, one thing I take from it is that this isn’t a spectator sport! God’s stacked the bench with the positions He needs. ‘Riding the pine’ isn’t a position. If you’re not engaged in doing what you’ve been equipped to do—or trying to do someone else’s role, we’ve got a weak link!

But first, there is a precedence for learning, right? How do you do works of service without having first been equipped? And that’s the order we see in Ephesians 4:12.

My hope is that, through exploring the Apostles Creed, we are better equipped to do the work we’re called to because we know the Spirit doesn’t call the equipped—but equips the called, right?

So, how much first aid should a first responder know? Especially if it’s the first responder working on you? You probably can’t ever know all of it, but you should always be sharpening your craft. So, having conducted some preparation and keeping the fundamentals fundamental. Because, what good is it to know how to calculate a slope if you can’t add, subtract, and multiply? What’s the point in shooting an azimuth if you don’t have a known location? What good is it to be able to commit to memory something you only ever have to do one time?! If we get so transfixed on dogma that we replace our doctrine, what have we done?

Our goal should always be to find ourselves—full of comfort and joy—in Jesus rather than finding a Jesus who reinforces our identity and convictions within our journey of self-discovery. We are the ones that change.

On that note, I want to introduce a term, which is what’s called adiaphora. This is a Greek word that essentially means ‘things about which we can agree to disagree.’  They are matters that are neither commanded nor forbidden by religious doctrine or ethics.

Series Appeal:

There are so many things we can be divisive about. But today, I fear, much more than at any other time throughout our history, we can’t seem to accept another’s hermeneutic, the word which is descriptive of how one’s study and method of interpretation, to be different than our own, or be accepting of any conclusion other than that which we’ve come to, much less, allow the Holy Spirit to reveal anything contradictory to the way that we’ve come to understand. Instead of being the ones that change, we expect Jesus to, or warp His message to affirm our views. That’s not the Gospel. The Good News is that we are wrong, we are guilty, we are utterly depraved, BUT—the cross.

Rest assured, there are hills to die on! That’s the point of this series, but there are also things that make us different, but they don’t necessarily mean we have to break communion over. I would say that all creeds probably serve to say, “We are this and not that.” But they don’t do so at the cost of that wiggle room of diversity; adiaphora, unnecessarily.

Series Point:

Some of you come from non-credal traditions, and that’s fine! Reciting them or not doesn’t change their purpose or make them less or more significant. Creeds—at least the first two, aren’t meant to affirm theologies that draw us apart from association with others who claim the title “Christian,” as the joke I began with has the tendency to do.  Later statements from the Marburg Colloquy in 1529, which further split those who had separated from Rome between Lutheran and Reformed, to the Chicago and Danvers Statements, aim to narrow further—‘we are this and not that.’ I won’t go as far as to say that they serve to divide, but they have that effect in application. Optimistically, they were created in an effort to refine and draw associations with like-minded theologies, but over adiaphora; those things that are supposed to be indifferent. I suspect that’s where many of our ‘non-creedal’ churches come from, a stance to refuse further division. They give birth, however, to some silly statements like “no creed but the Bible,” which is effectively a creed in itself!

Background/purpose:

The first two creeds, however, the Apostles’ and the Nicaean, the first being our topic of discussion over the next 12 weeks—serve only as a litmus test for Christianity, dividing orthodoxy from heresy. They are ancient, with roots in early church baptismal confessions from the second century, tied to apostolic teaching.  Their widespread use and agreement with Scripture set a clear, unchanging standard—avoiding the “No True Scotsman” fallacy, where someone redefines a claim to exclude others (like saying, “No true Scotsman puts sugar on porridge”). Later creeds and confessions serve to say, “We like things this and that way,” refining specific theologies for like-minded groups.

I’ll come back to this before we close.

Transition:

But my prayer is that this will suffice as an introduction and allow you to humor our exploration of orthodoxy, especially if you come to creeds with hesitancy, or if creeds are your thing, perhaps you will allow yourself more room to ‘agree to disagree’ on matters that are more dogmatic than doctrinal.

So, my purpose today is twofold: first, to introduce this series, but also to present the first of twelve articles, each of which supports one of three paragraphs or stanzas about a member of the Trinity. Today’s, obviously, the first concerns the first person of the Trinity, the Father, and it’s unique because it is the only paragraph comprised entirely in one sentence.

Article 1:

And it goes, “I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.”

This isn’t hard to accept. If you are here, it’s [time]! I’m sure you have other places you could be… But you’re here.

“Without faith, it is impossible to please God… the one who draws near to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him,” that’s just logic, but it’s also Hebrews 11:6.

This is the oldest and most simplistic belief of the faith we hold that we’ve inherited from our ancestors, the Jews. Moses recorded in Genesis 1:1 that “in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” Being called as a nation in Exodus 3:14, “God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” And he said, “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘I am has sent me to you.’”

Transition:

Even the disciples struggled to see Jesus as the fulfillment of Scripture. They hid in fear after the crucifixion, missing what He had foretold. We read in Matt 16:16 that Peter called Him “Messiah,” and John 1:49 credits Nathaniel with referring to Him as “Son of God,” but these titles carried varied meanings. It was Thomas, often called “doubter,” who first connected the dots, declaring, “My Lord and my God,” recorded in John 20:28, recognizing Jesus’ divine identity.

Anagnorisis (ana•nor•ē•sis) is the $2 theological word for the sudden realization of a reality or nature of a relationship between two previously known—yet unconnected things. When you know facts about both but instantaneously put them together or realize them to be about the same thing or person—an “aha” moment.

Point:

This is why it’s a grammatical error and a little wrong to say, “God’s son, Jesus.”

Jesus, the Son of the Father, IS God; The Father IS God; The Spirit IS God.

The Spirit is not the Father, the Father is not the Son, and the Son is neither the Father nor the Spirit. All of those are heresy; this is why our Creed has three stanzas.

This is why nontrinitarians are heretical, and it’s from ancient, apostolic, and wide-spread origin. It’s only a grammatical error—however, to say, “God’s son, Jesus.” And I hear it from the Pulpit every Easter, and it’s cringy—it is, however, very wrong to say, “The Spirit died on the cross.” That is, next week’s task, so come on back and hear all about the Second member of the Trinity—next week!

Today’s point is that the Creeds were created to underline Christianity as a monotheistic faith, meaning one Godhead with three co-equal members who are distinct persons.

I only use the word ‘persons,’ to distinguish them, not to assign rules or limitations to them as people. They are not, in themselves, separate deities; that is another discussion. Suffice it to say it is somewhat like C.S. Lewis’s “Narnia” series; the 4 siblings share a throne. They are none of them alone, a sovereign, but together act as a singular monarchy. The members of the Trinity are fully and equally God. They are equal in divinity, glory, majesty, and power.

This fact is present in Scripture. That’s the purpose of—but not necessarily outright claimed; that’s what the Apostles Creed is for and why it’s important.

Transition:

There are two Essential Elements of Faith and Belief:

Knowledge, which is a body of data concerning facts and their meaning, history, and its theological interpretation.

AND

Assent – personal agreement with this body of historical and theological truth. That these things happened, and that they mean what Scripture says they mean.

James 2:19 says, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!” That’s knowledge. As shared by the Brother of Jesus, it’s very clear that this is not enough. Knowledge isn’t salvific. Gnosticism, the subscription to the idea that secret knowledge, or some idea that knowing is believing, or effectually salvific in some way, shape, or form—James says, is not enough. He says you do well; it’s a start. But it’s our assent. Now, I’m not going to get into a Calvinistic debate about human response v. predetermination; they both attempt to preserve God’s sovereignty in different ways, and I cannot underline this enough, they ARE NOT CREEDAL ISSUES.

Let me pause here to say that when I say something is not a creedal issue, what I am, in fact, saying is that—salvation is not at stake here.

I’ve given you a lot of facts today, introduced a lot of vocabulary—it’s my deepest conviction that pastors are called to feed God’s sheep. I’m all about challenging a congregation to grow, but the primary difference between preaching and teaching is that preaching involves exhortation, admonition, encouragement, and conviction; again, as in any calling, “to build up the body of Christ, equipping the saints for service.”

Application:

So, what’s the purpose? We’ve already got the point: We believe in God the Father, Creator of Heaven and Earth. He’s not the Son or the Spirit; he reveals Himself in terms of intimacy and immediacy in the titles He gives Himself and the way in which He relates to other members of the Godhead.

How’s this more than teaching points? What are we supposed to do with this?

Illustration:

In The Matrix, when Neo first gets martial arts skills uploaded into his brain, he opens his eyes in wonder and says, “I know kung fu.” Morpheus looks at him and simply replies, “Show me.” Neo now has all the knowledge—he intellectually believes he can fight, the data is there. But that downloaded information isn’t power until he steps into the sparring program, throws punches, dodges attacks, and fights for real. Only then does the knowledge become something that changes the battle and saves the world.

Summary:

It’s our faith in action, like James says.  You can know the creed backwards and forwards—like Neo saying ‘I know kung fu’—but until you ‘show Him’ in active faith, it stays theoretical. Both Peter and Judas had the same knowledge.

If you take nothing else away from today’s message or this series, my hope for you is to imagine Heaven a little bit bigger. I hope it’s big enough to include both you and me and to understand exactly what the ‘essential elements of faith’ are.

As Paul wrote to the Corinthians in his first letter, chapter 15, 1 “Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand. 2 By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain.”

The good news is not judgment or divisiveness; that’s not the good news at all! But that God has, indeed, become flesh, taken on our sins, died for them, and overcome death that we may now participate in his resurrection as heirs with him.

It’s why roughly half the liturgical year focuses on Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.

Most people who are going to attend a church service, be it for New Year’s resolutions, Christmas and Easter, they get the opportunity to encounter the story of Jesus.

A question I often ask myself in my sermon prep is, “What’s at stake if we get this wrong?” I think you know as well as I—we get all those reasons most people don’t come anymore.  We become that judgy, hypocritical, legalistic church that drives people away—focusing on differences and personal conduct while missing the Gospel of grace shown to the thief on the cross. That kind of judgment has no place in Heaven.

Jesus made His Church—built on the confession that He is the Messiah—the bulwark against heresy (Matthew 16:18-19). We may differ on exactly how that works, but we agree the body of believers—together—guards sound doctrine. Scripture is precious, yet even it can be twisted—that’s why Peter warns about distorting Paul’s letters (2 Peter 3:16), and the early father Irenaeus insisted interpretation belongs within the Church’s fellowship. Overseers are called to teach sound doctrine and refute error (Titus 1:7-9). The ancient creeds are part of that guardrail, and praise God most denominations still hold them. Our job is to steward that trust faithfully.

Challenge/Close:

It’s the Good News we’re responsible for. As in the original call to Abraham, the latter half of Genesis 12:3—it was the point in the beginning, and it’s the point today, “all people on earth will be blessed through you.”

In my introduction, I compared 1st Corinthians 12:12 and Ephesians 4:11, two Pauline epistles, to draw one concise theological point that is still true today. Again, there is no room on the bench. God’s stacked the field with the positions he needs. This isn’t a spectator sport. I don’t come from a tradition where everyone gets a title, but I’m not poo-pooing on it either. It’s of crucial importance to see yourselves as leaders. Just like the military, everyone’s a leader! In some form or fashion, we’re all responsible for the charge in Titus.

If you’re not engaged in doing what you’ve been equipped to do or trying to do someone else’s role, You’re the weak link!

Our job isn’t convicting people; it’s not in hashing out the things we can ‘agree to disagree’ over, but traditioning to the next generation, stewarding what we’ve received—dividing essential elements from adiaphora, doctrine, and dogma.

God isn’t looking for more people who can say, “I know kung fu.” He’s looking for those willing to take the red pill and step out of the simulated reality, but not just escaping either—returning to the Matrix, fighting—to serve, to love, to share the Gospel you’ve received.