Reflections on the Worship Weavers' Apostles' Creed

by Marian Szczepanski

For well over a year, I've engaged in extemporaneous revision whenever I recite the creed. When I first started doing this, my chief complaint concerned gender. I don't believe in an exclusively male God, and I balked at referring to God as Father. Once I dropped Father, other words started bothering me. My in-the-pew, in-the-moment revising expanded. It actually became a source of radical theological entertainment for my youngest daughter. She insisted on sitting beside me at church so she could fully enjoy the audible collisions of her mother's intonations with those of the congregation, as well as pounce on any late-breaking changes. This often led to spirited family discussions in the car driving home from church. Occasionally, I was challenged: What's the big deal? Father, mother, he, she -- what difference does it make? What counts is what's in your heart and how you live, not some old-fashioned words you recite once a week -- right?

Time and again, I responded that, for me, those words did -- and do -- matter. This obsession with language may be due, in part, to being a writer. Each time I compose, I'm constantly weighing the precision of one word against another. Sometimes I agonize over those choices, because I know a single word can make all the difference in conveying meaning, especially in something relatively succinct like a poem.

Or a creed.

So when Worship Weavers decided in August to rewrite the Apostles' Creed and use the revision as a basis for their January liturgy, I was absolutely thrilled. At last, I thought, an opportunity to formally sweep aside all those antiquated phrases and produce something truly applicable to the contemporary feminine consciousness. What's more, we'd produce it in what I considered a truly inclusive manner. To expedite things, we opted to use that efficient contemporary mass-communication mode known as group e-mail. And, rather than forming a creed-writing subcommittee, we chose to make the composition process a communal one -- everyone was invited to contribute and discuss others' contributions. I knew the committee was full of women with rich, diverse theological training and background, and I was sure that I, a rookie in this arena, would learn a lot from this experience. That's what happened, but what I learned was not exactly what I'd expected.

I fully expected that our new, improved creed would all but write itself. Granted, the committee members come from numerous faith traditions, but, still, I thought, we're all inherently on the same page. Why else would we be involved in Worship Weavers? But once creed e-mails started appearing regularly in my in-box, it became apparent that this group of passionately feminist Christians had widely divergent opinions on what often came down to just one word. Believe, for instance. Creator. Even We.

There was philosophical discussion about the power of words in general. Linguistic issues were raised about the Latin and Greek origins of certain words, such as creed and begotten. Questions and responses and scriptural citations were traded. And traded. And traded. Interest in a totally new paradigm was expressed -- one member asked, "Why not embrace an experiential, rather than a spoken, creed; one, perhaps, based on movement?"

And then came the inevitable question: Is a creed useful, or even necessary? And, if not, why undertake this project?

Yes, I was learning a whole lot about theology -- as well as group process. I was particularly amazed to discover that I, who am drawn to liberal theology like a moth to a flame, was actually starting to feel a bond with the people who had created the creed in the first place. I did a little Web research and found out a few things that deepened my sympathy. I learned that the creed, not surprisingly, has undergone numerous revisions from its first appearance in the second century, primarily as responses to developments, especially crises, in the church. What I'd seen as a statement of rote obedience handed down from an ecclesiastical ivory tower was, in fact, an organic confession designed to address, teach, guide, guard, and affirm an evolving church in a changing world. I realized that those words which I saw as outdated had undoubtedly come together through a prolonged, deliberate, thoughtful, and, no doubt, compromise-necessitating conversation not all that different from the one Worship Weavers was engaged in.

In other words, the Apostles' Creed was and continues to be a work-in-progress, something the writer in me has always honored. The creed that ultimately arose from our group effort will be -- like faith, like life itself -- open to revision, if it is to be truly viable. As for me, I've been reminded, once again, that process can be every bit as useful as product, and I humbly acknowledge that a journey can bring you to a vantage point from which you can appreciate, perhaps for the first time, that far-off, long-ago place where the journey started.

What follows is our revised text of the Apostles' Creed. It came into being through a lively collaboration, but its words are neither perfect or perfectly in keeping with each contributor's theological perspective. We offer the presentation as yet another marker -- by no means the last -- in our ongoing journey of faith.

[Worship Weavers is an ecumenical group of women dedicated to offering worship opportunities that are sensitive to women¹s needs and concerns, celebrate women's accomplishments and visions, and express the feminine face of God.]

A Twenty-first-Century Apostles' Creed
I am brought to love by one God,
begetter and birther of all things.

I am brought to love by Jesus, the Anointed, Wisdom Incarnate,
who was
conceived by the Holy Spirit
born of Mary, the overshadowed one,
lived as forgiver, healer, teacher,
friend of outcasts, prophet of wisdom,
suffered under humanity's evil,
was crucified, died and buried.
He experienced hell.
The third day he rose from death
received by Mary Magdalene, the first apostle.
He ascended into God empowered as Beloved.

I am brought to love by the Holy Spirit,
breath of God
greening power of the universe,
in the ChristSophia community,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and the life everlasting.
Amen.

Marian Szczepanski is a Houston writer working on her second novel. Worship Weavers is an ecumenical group of women dedicated to offering worship opportunities that are sensitive to women's needs and concerns, celebrating women's accomplishments and visions, and expressing the feminine face of God.