Article by Clint Archer (original source here – https://thecripplegate.com/why-creeds/)
“I don’t believe in creeds, I believe in Jesus.” That pithy declaration is an example of a creed. Any statement of a belief or expression of a conviction is a creed, even one that avers a total rejection of creeds, notwithstanding the irony and a comical lack of self-awareness.
The word creed comes from the Latin “credo” meaning “I believe.” Many creeds commence with the formula, “I believe…” or “We believe…” Throughout church history, Christians have articulated their convictions of truth in statements of faith. As the hand of time rolls a creed through the debris of error, its content grows larger and denser until it comes to rest as an immovable mass of solid doctrine.
If you declare that you believe in Jesus, it is only a matter of time before someone may challenge you to clarify which Jesus. The one in the Bible, of course. Yes, but what do you believe about that Jesus? People in the Bible suggested he might be Elijah or some other prophet, but Peter rightly declared that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God. He thus eliminated some erroneous interpretations and false beliefs. The rest of the New Testament continues the work of expunging error and articulating truth.
To assert that you believe the Bible alone is cute but inadequate. Unless you are prepared to recite the whole Bible every time anyone asks you what you believe on any topic, you will find the convenience of an abridgment invaluable.
Now, you are free to formulate your own statement of faith but be warned, it’s a tricky business. Anytime you say one thing that is true, someone can agree with your statement, while simultaneously embracing something else you would reject. This will lead you to add a phrase or change a word—which in turn will spawn new needs for more nuance and clarification. Let’s just say that getting the wording of an airtight, eternally significant belief system takes more linguistic expertise, theological prowess, biblical knowledge, and time than any individual Christian possesses. Time is a key ingredient. It takes a long while to pressure test the product for leaks. Only when people you disagree with come and say they agree with your creed, can you spot the cracks in your handiwork.
Some theology takes longer to error-proof than can be accomplished in one lifetime.
One example is the Apostles’ Creed. I have recited a version of that confession over a thousand times… as a Roman Catholic. Now, as a born-again, Evangelical, Reformed Baptist, guess what? I can still recite the Apostles’ Creed and agree with every word (though I now have a better understanding of what some of the words mean, like “catholic” and “hell” and “begotten”).
So, if a Catholic and a Baptist can recite the same creed, why can’t we all just get along, ecclesiastically speaking? Because we all also hold to other beliefs that are not included in that ancient creed. As Dr. Al Mohler wrote in his recent book, unambiguously titled The Apostles’ Creed, “All Christians believe more than is contained in the Apostles’ Creed, but none can believe less.”
A framework of doctrine is like a lattice. It might be sturdy enough for you when unchallenged. But when enemies of the truth aim their arrows at your faith, you will want the lattice reinforced with layer upon layer of language until it is impenetrable.
Another example is the Nicene Creed.
If you declare merely that you believe in the Jesus of the Bible and then insist that no other credal paraphernalia is warranted, you will soon find yourself in the doctrinal company of Jehovah’s Witnesses.
If you want to edge JWs out of your Committee to Keep Creeds Short, you are going to have to add at least a few more lines to your non-creed. At this point, it might prove helpful to consult with your older brothers in the faith, who met at Nicaea in 325 AD. They already formulated a vaccine for the JW virus when they encountered Patient Zero, a man named Arius. They found a dose of this punchy paragraph to be immensely useful in protecting the Body of Christ against the assertion that Jesus was a created being or less than the Father in some way:
“We believe… in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, begotten from the Father before all ages, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made; of the same essence as the Father.”
And yes, every phrase is there to reinforce a vulnerable spot in the lattice of orthodox Christology.
We Baptists have tended to be creed-averse, largely as a reaction to confessionalism. Baptists are people of the Book, after all. But our library shelves aren’t empty; we are people of books, blogs, and other helpful documents. I think it behooves us to peer over our Presbyterian peers’ shoulders and see what all the fuss is about.
Creeds are not authoritative, of course. (Sola Scriptura forever!) Nor are they sufficient, which is why there are so many of them. But they are not nothing.
Creeds represent the efforts of the Body of Christ, the Church Universal through the ages, to articulate, clarify, defend, and promote the teachings of the Old and New Testaments. And they do so in a way that can grow stronger with time, and can withstand the onslaught of revenant heresies that were dealt with in the past, to prevent them getting the best of a new generation of believers.
Like a fortress that takes generations to build, the doctrines we uphold today have been preserved for us by our older brothers and sisters, so that we can enjoy safety from old heresies and can have a strong foundation on which to build the fortifications to fend off new heresies.
The Body of Christ is made up of many members, and not all of them are alive at the same time. As Christians, we should know our family history, and we should learn from the battles our forefathers fought. And there is no better place to start than by reading creeds.
At least, that’s what I believe.