My Unorthodox Statement of Faith

Every day, believers around the world speak the words of the  ancient creeds to articulate the core of the faith.  I love these statements of faith; saying the Nicene Creed or the Apostles Creed ties me to the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before me and who will come after me. These words ground my faith, and when I may feel distant or doubtful, I’m held up by the common life I share with the broader community of the faithful in the world.  The creeds tie us to one another and to the Church Universal.

Still, for me, it’s equally important to find words which delve into the particularity of my understanding of who God is, who Jesus is, who the Spirit is.  I do this all the time through poetry and my own journals (and you can bet your bottom dollar that you won’t be reading either — well, maybe a poem someday).  On more than one occasion, I’ve tried to write intentionally and reflect on the core beliefs that get me up every morning and keep me going through the day.  A way to do this is to articulate my faith by writing my own creed, my own statement of faith.  One such moment, written in 2006, is offered here.  I might say some things differently now, but overall, I still believe this is a pretty good description of how I see God.

What would your Statement of Faith say?

My Unorthodox Statement of Faith

Standing at my own crossroads, I bow, kiss the earth, and confess:*

I believe in a chaotic universe that was created. One day my eyes will see as the Creator sees, not chaos but purpose.  For in the chaos lies great beauty.

I believe that the purpose breaks through in fleeting moments, in the mystical.

I believe that I am a part of the whole, created with care, yet not with perfection.

I believe that God is the Creator of all that is and of even more that I don’t know, see, feel.

I believe God knows me by name, sees me from the inside out. God draws me to seek, to ask, to knock at the Mysteries.

I believe God has come in Spirit and in Flesh. This is one of the Mysteries.

I believe God is greater than anything I can wrap my mind around, but I keep trying. God wants to be known, is gracious enough to keep breaking though, bit by bit. My heart aches to see more.  Another Mystery.

I believe God wants to be known so much that God took on my form on earth, Creator becoming a part of creation.

I believe that to save creation, God died while here on earth. Yet God still lives. Always has, always will. A huge Mystery.

I believe God acts most from a place of love and humility, even though God could do it otherwise.

I believe God is in the middle of all my hurt and pain; God hurts with the hurting.

I believe God hears the cry of a girl in the dark, abused and misused; cries with a mother when her daughter dies; weeps for the soldier who carelessly kills an innocent child out of his own rage and pain.

I believe God loves this measly world, even finds joy in the midst of the shit we’ve created here. And that joy is strangely contagious. It bubbles up within me at the least expected times and places.

I believe God wrestles with me and I am changed; maybe God is too. More Mystery.

I believe in the New Kingdom, which comes with the Spirit and will outlast this body, this time, this place, yet I will be a part of it forever. Still another Mystery.

I believe God is Miraculous, Inconceivable, Unutterable.

I believe God meets me at the Threshold, between all that I am and all that I was meant to be, and within me gives form to the Unutterable* through pen, bow, brush.

I believe God shows me only as much as I can take in at one time, drawing me to want more, like a woman hungry for bread when there is none or thirsty for water on a hot dry day.

I believe God can’t be contained in my systems, my constructs, my will, my world. But God wants to be in my heart,  for God is love.

*In Crime and Punishment, before he confesses to the crime, Raskolnikov “suddenly recalled Sonia’s words, “Go to the cross roads, bow down to the people, kiss the earth, for you have sinned against it too, and say aloud to the whole world, ‘I am a murderer.’”” (Part VI, Chapter VIII, 25-27) Throughout the novel, Dostoevsky also uses the motif of standing in a threshold and of things being unutterable.