If you are following along in the creed, you will notice that the story takes a turn.

“I believe in God the father almighty and in Jesus Christ is only-begotten son, our Lord”

Until those last two words, everything has been observation. Now we are involved in the story. It’s not just a story about a God over there, now it’s a God that I have some investment in. It’s not just a king, it’s a king that I’m somehow responsible to.

At the time of this creed (340) the idea of lords and emperors and authority was part of life. The phrase “our Lord” affirms that among all the lords that we could have, Jesus is ours, among all the lords that could claim us, Jesus is ours.

The creed was a freeing thing.

For us, one the other hand, this language is incredibly archaic. We are our own lords, we are our own masters. We get to choose what happens to us. We are pretty sure that we can #OccupyMe. We like to be able to look at the cafeteria options and put together the plan that is best for us.

But I gotta confess. I’m lousy at running me. I’m better at running you.

Sometimes it looks like I’m doing pretty well. But if you make me sit down in a quiet room and say, “Take a deep breath. Tell me how you are doing,” I might tell you. And it won’t be pretty. I have goals and expectations and attempts at self-discipline. I can excuse myself too well. I need a lord.

I just thought about Thomas who doubted and then said, “My Lord.” In that conversation, I realized, Jesus blessed everyone who says this creed: “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

—

More on Thomas