A non-Creedal Christian

I've never been comfortable with the Nicene or the Apostle's creeds. But it was only a day or so ago, in response to an email about a group at one of the churches in the Cluster who would like to replace the creed with something else that I realized I'm a 'non-Creedal Christian', if that even is a thing.

I'll find the email I sent and put it here.

********

Hey, all,

Thought I'd weigh in since I've been mentioned in the couple of emails I've gotten--only from *****. I haven't been cc-ed on any others.

I am not a 'creedal' Christian. Never have been, never will be. I have real difficulty with the Nicene Creed since it reduces Jesus' life, ministry and teaching to his incarnation, his crucifixion, death and burial. I am a 'gospel' and 'liturgical' Christian. A Creed doesn't enter into my faith.

Not a word in the creed about compassion, love, hope, wonder, forgiveness, inclusion, acceptance, glory. That's the Christian I am--the compassion, love, hope, wonder, forgiveness, inclusion, acceptance, glory kind of Christian.

I can say the Nicene Creed because it uses the personal pronoun "we" and I can imagine some of the 'we' saying it gives assent to the 'beliefs' therein!

Back when I was in seminary and we had no Book of Common Prayer (Green Book, Zebra Book, Blue Book...all that) I led a discussion at Christ Church, Capitol Hill on the Nicene Creed. I told the group of a dozen or so that I'd start the Creed and when they had an issue or wanted to talk about something they should raise their hand. So, I began (as the Creed was back then) "I believe in God...." and five hands went up.

'Alright,' I told myself, 'this is the group I want to be with.'

I have little use for 'belief' since I think very few people assume that something we 'believe' is something totally without evidence. Most people who talk about what they 'believe' mean something like 'what is TRUE' (all Caps). I'm much more interested in 'what we do' as opposed to 'what we believe'.

I'm a "I'm from Missouri" Christian. "Show me" through how you live what you 'believe'. Don't tell me your beliefs.

So, when given an opportunity to replace the Creed, I jumped at it.

My problem is, and has always been, that I think I am 'the norm', when in fact I am far off the 'norm'. I am genuinely surprised when someone disagrees with me! Imagine that.

****** didn't want to jettison the Creed and, *****, you seem to have some issues about it.

I just assumed everyone would agree with *****, ****, and *****...and me, of course, that a way around the Creed would be a road well traveled.

I still stand by that. But the conversation would be interesting. So, I'm in, given that I'm not a 'creedal Christian'.

(The 'rubric' in the BCP is clear about the Creed: "On Sundays and all major feasts there follows, all standing....")

But any conversation would be illuminating and perhaps transforming.

Let's have it. Let me know when and where.

Shalom all, jim

 

********

 

(I took out the names because folks should have a shred of hope that personal emails won't get blogged!!!!) 

TX-exit

The Supreme Court's declaration of Texas' 2013 law severely limiting abortion as unconstitutional led to cries from the Lone Star State to secede from the union.

More power to that movement!

Someone in Texas is always whining about being part of the United States. Texans always want their own way, it seems to me, damn the Constitution and full speed ahead!!!

Maybe Trump could just build his wall around the northern boarders of Texas and get Texas to pay for it. They'd probably be happy to keep folks from the other 49 out.

I can only think of three reasons to want Texas to stay: Wendy Davis, Austin and Fort Worth. Beyond that I wouldn't miss it at all.

So, go on Texas, make your move....

Maggie--RIP

Our parakeet, Maggie died yesterday morning. Bern found her walking on the bottom of the cage and when she looked next, little Maggie was dead.

On the heels of the death of Luke, the cat, a couple of months ago, we're down to sharing our lives with just one creature: Bela, the Puli. I don't believe we've only had one creature since before Josh and Mimi were born. We've never had more than one dog at a time, but there were a lot of years here in Cheshire when we had 4 or more cats, an assortment of rodents and the two birds--Rainy and Maggie. Here's the story of how we got the birds.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Rainy

My daughter found a parakeet on the streets of Manhattan one morning a couple of years ago. She was green and drenched by rain. So Mimi caught her and put her in her pocket and since you can buy anything at any time in Manhattan, found a cage and food and took her to her office.

She named her Rainy.

Eventually, as folks sometimes inherit things from their kids before the kids ever inherit things from their parents--good luck to Josh and Mimi finding anything we leave behind...we mean to burn the candle at both ends and leave this world with about as little as we joined it with....--we got Rainy and another bird Mimi bought to keep Rainy company.

Rainy and Maggie now live in our kitchen and sing/chatter/scream most of the time. You get used to it after a while and can still hear NPR above the din. The radio is by their cage and their cage is so high the bottom of it is at eye level because we have Luke the Cat.

I love their noise. How wonderful.

And it has rained for two days.

I wonder if Rainy, hearing the rain through the window, remembers when she was lost and then was found?

It really doesn't matter in the long run, but I wonder.

Then there was Stinky, the rat Mimi brought us from Indiana, for goodness sake, after a summer intern job....Another story all together.....

But bless her for bringing us creatures to love.....

 *******

(Rainy died while we were in Baltimore a couple of years ago. Maggie never missed her, in fact, she seemed glad to be alone. We turned the radio to WSHU and Maggie sang with the classical music. She was mostly in tune.

Now, I wonder, will we go back to having WNPR--the Public Radio talk station on in the kitchen as it is in our cars? I hope not--at least until after the November elections. Classical music calms the soul while any and all mentions of Donald Trump rile me up....)

Good bye, sweet Maggie. Bern buried her under the bird bath in our back yard. In death, she'll be surrounded by birds, wild ones that are free....

Brexit

Though it sounds like a breakfast cereal, Brexit is a big deal.

All the world markets tanked--the Dow Jones was down 600 points! Even those who voted 'leave' were shocked that they won. The  pound sterling hit a 40 year low in exchange for other currency. Scotland voted 'stay' 68 to 32 percent--so the next Scottish 'leave Great Britian' vote might just pass. Europe is tearing her collective hair out and nobody, save Donald Trump, seems to think it's a good idea--short term OR long term. Even Northern Ireland, which voted 55-45 to stay might reconsider Irish unification.

In fact, that Donald Trump thinks it's a good idea makes it obvious that it isn't.

And it was a generation thing. 75% of those under 30 voted stay and 75% of those over 60 voted leave. Which of those groups has to live with the long term fall out of it all.

Trump was asked, less than a week ago, what he though of 'Br-exit' and he wasn't sure what it was until the interviewer said 'Britian leaving the European Union'.

But he thought it was great with almond milk and strawberries in the morning....

A drunk from Buffalo

Bern and I were sitting outside our hotel in Rome the night before we flew back to the US when a couple from Buffalo came across the street to the hotel and engaged us in conversation.

The man was clearly pretty drunk on Italian wine--and who could blame him? He told me every Italian he'd met asked about how on earth could Donald Trump be a candidate for President of the USA. Clearly, he'd been with people I hadn't been with since no one asked me that. But he'd been in a bar across the street and obviously was conversational.

He told me that when they asked him who he was going to vote for he told them 'he didn't know yet'.

I told him to hold his nose if he had to, but to vote for Hillary.

His wife agreed with  me. Just goes to show that the possible Trump voters are mostly middle-aged white men from places like Buffalo, who are a bit drunk.

One part of me--the part that believes in Americans as sane and decent people--tells me the election is going to be worse than the Goldwater debacle for Republicans.

Another part of me--the part that talks to drunk men from Buffalo in Rome--tells me that might not be true.

God help the first part of me be right.....

Lunch in Etruscian caves

We had lunch one day in Siena in caves carved out by the Etruscians--the folks who pre-dated the Italians.

There was no Etruscian written language so all that is know about them is hear-say and conjecture.

But they made caves under Siena. And we had lunch on the second level of them--there were two more levels below. And incredible meal in an astonishing space.

The three 'girls' sat at a different table across from Josh, Cathy, Dan, Bern and me. And they were remarkably grown up about it. The staff treated them as if they were alone and even offered them the check!

What a place.

So Italy has a 'native people' about which they know about what we know about native Americans.

Someone is always pushing someone out.

The Etruscian culture was deeply woven into the land of Tuscany. And yet they know so little about it.

Again, like us and Native Americans.

But I've never eaten in a restaurant Native Americans dug out under a modern city.

That's different. And haunting.

And, once more, a great Siena meal.

My name is Jim and I have sleep apnea.

The internet has made us all stupid. Nobody knows anything anymore because they assume they can take out their smart phone and google whatever it is.

I have a C-path machine for my apnea. I love it. It makes my life much better than it would otherwise be. I take it wherever I go.

When I'm in Ireland, the Conference Center where we meet has a DC/AC machine. It weighs about 15 pounds and is about the size of a breadbox (for those who can remember what size a breadbox was--or even 'what' a breadbox was). You plug it into Direct Current and plug your machine into the other side and DC miraculously becomes AC and your C-Path works!

Before we left for Italy I tried to buy one of those machines (the DC/AC converter) but really couldn't find one that I thought was similar to the one in Ireland. So I surfed the internet for days, trying to find out what exactly I needed to use my C-path in Italy. There was entirely too much information and not anything specific enough to respond to googling "How to use an American C-Path in Italy".

I called my supplier for the machine and nobody really knew but all told me to google it.

I called the manufacturer of my machine and spoke to an engineer who gave me the details on a plug that he was reasonably sure would work. Beware of engineer's who are 'reasonably sure' and use the internet!

I ordered the plug and didn't believe it would work. So, I took it to my Tuesday group where the two smartest people I know attend. I showed them the plug and the information that came with it and they were 'reasonably sure' it would work.

It worked one night in Italy and then burned my machine to a crisp.

Now, trying to get a new machine has turned into a nightmare since no knows anything anymore and the internet has 1,345,856 hits, none of which say: "Do this to replace your C-Path machine".

My supplier's fax number refused to receive my GP's Rx. So I had him refer me to the sleep center where I went 10 years or more ago, which was Gaylord then and Yale-New Haven Hospital now. So, I have to wait to see them before I get my machine. If, that is, they can locate the Gaylord records!!!

I wake up congested--which I never do with the machine. I seem about to doze off from time to time (which I never do with the machine). And I'm snoring, Bern tells me (which I never do with the machine.)

I just want a new machine. That's all.

But, beyond that I want people to 'know' stuff again and the internet to die a painful, horrible, exhausting death.

Just that. That's all.