Belonging | A Personal Creed

A homily for Low Sunday

On this particular Sunday, Low Sunday, we may still be a bit hungover from the intoxicating joy of Easter. A sugary spirit filled high-on-faith experience fueled by beautiful music, fabulous flowers, chocolate rabbits, and marshmallow peeps.

So, thanks to you in the pews who chose to come back. Thanks to you who return and choose to believe – though like Thomas we all have our doubts. God bless our doubts, each-and-every-one. We still follow up the Gospel every Sunday with the puzzling Nicene Creed.

We know it by heart, right? It’s a bare bones Trinitarian map of the faith, 4th century cousin to the 2nd century Apostles Creed. Not found anywhere in the bible, the creeds grew out of doubt — just what does this mystery of the empty tomb really mean.

Though we recite the creed in unison” We believe”, this Low Sunday, let’s flip to the singular “I believe.” I am handing out little golf pencils this morning so you can jot down your thoughts. When you hear these words, what comes to mind?

I believe in God ….

I believe in the Son…

I believe in the Holy Spirit…

Or just plain old, I believe…

Getting stuck? Coming up blank? No problem. You are far from alone.

Believing ourselves enlightened folks, we primarily equate belief with facts, provable truths, testable theories. But Jesus does not return to the Upper Room in a book or in a creed, he returns in person. Human head to toe. Embodied just like you and me.

So, I think the infamous story of Doubting Thomas is really about belonging rather than believing. I think it is more a testament to the connective tissue of love rather than a confession of dogmatic belief.

There is a wonderful book by Raymond Brown called The Churches the Apostles Left Behind. It tells the story of how the earliest Christians gathered in community centered around the gospel or letters of Paul, that they had received. There was a community inspired by Mark, a community inspired by Luke, a community inspired by Matthew, and another inspired by John. And they hung together long after the authors named Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were long gone.

These gatherings were unlike any seen before in the ancient world. Neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female were left out. In one another’s homes, they gathered, broke bread, and passed the cup around the table hand to hand.

And I believe with all my heart that this incarnate connection is something that the whole world is longing for. Longing to belong. Longing to be seen and valued. Longing to be understood and listened to.

So…

We belong to the Creator, the Source.

We belong to Christ, the Servant.

We belong to the Spirit, the Guide.

We belong to one another.

And what does that look like?

Maybe a church you grew up in, where you got married, baptized your baby, or laid loved ones to rest.

Or maybe, no church or faith group at all. It’s about belonging in the most ordinary of ways. And what does that look like?

Maybe?

• hanging out with your family

• having coffee with co-workers

• cooking dinner with friends

• playing board games with neighbors

• chaperoning a field trip

• babysitting kids

• shopping for shut-ins

• serving meals at the shelter

• volunteering at the food pantry

• showing up for your community

• doing good for the greater good

• demonstrating, marching, protesting, voting

• and lots of other things, I have not thought of, that I am sure you can add to this list.

Maybe it looks like St. Stephen’s here on Highland Avenue. It is an act of faith, hope, and love that got you here today. To pray and sing and share the peace with one another in the pews. In this particular Episcopal Church — when you have so many others to choose from in Winston-Salem. Not to mention all of the other Baptist, Methodist, Moravian, and Presbyterian options too!

So, this Low Sunday let’s ponder the bonds that bring and bind us together, the simple things that matter most, the graceful encounters that we share with friend and stranger. Maybe we can wrap them all up in a personal creed. Maybe a little spiritual exercise to ponder, to try to compose one of our own.

I would like to end with one that Carrie Newcomer wrote. Her song, I Believe. (Click to listen.)

I believe there are some debts
That we never can repay
I believe there are some words
That you can never unsay
And I don’t know a single soul
Who didn’t get lost along the way

I believe in socks and gloves
Knit out of soft grey wool
And that there’s a place in heaven for those
Who teach in public school
And I know I get some things right
But mostly I’m a fool

Chorus
I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea
And all these shoots and roots will become a tree
All I know is I can’t help but see
All of this as so very holy

I believe in jars of jelly
Put up by careful hands
I believe most folks are doing
About the best they can
And I know there are some things
That I will never understand

Chorus 2
I believe there’s healing in the sound of your voice
And that a summer tomato is a cause to rejoice
And that following a song was never really a choice
Never really

Bridge
I believe in a good long letter written on real paper and with real pen
I believe in the ones I love and know I’ll never see again
I believe in the kindness of strangers and the comfort of old friends

And when I close my eyes to sleep at night it’s good to say
“Amen”

I believe that life’s comprised of smiles and sniffles and tears
And in an old coat that still has another good year
And I know that I get scared sometimes but all I need is here

Chorus
I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea
And all these shoots and roots will become a tree
All I know is I can’t help but see
All of this as so very holy.