Joyce Borger

I had never heard a woman preach, yet I had made the bold decision to go to seminary to become a pastor. Not everyone agreed with my decision. One person questioned the need for more education. “All you need is Jesus!” they exclaimed. “Who is Jesus?” I responded in jest. Yet I found that seemingly simple question was at the core of much of my seminary education.This question was also at the center of many theological discussions and controversies throughout the history of our church, even to the present day. Yes, we know that salvation is in Christ alone, but who is this Christ that we worship? Christ is Lord, but what does that mean in our everyday life? What does being a Christ follower look like? These struggles and questions were as alive in the early church as they are today. The need for clarity arose from wanting to know God and to honor God. In the early 300s, the church was struggling with the question of how best to talk about the Father God, Jesus the Son, the Holy Spirit, and their relationality. What are the right words to use? How do we balance the seemingly conflicting truths that the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Spirit is God, yet there is only one God? There is a Father and a Son, which suggests a generational timeline, but one didn’t come before the other. How does this all work? Arius, a pastor from Alexandria, Egypt, thought it didn’t work. Out of the right desire to protect the holiness of God the Father, Arius argued that God could not have become an unholy human; therefore, Christ is not God incarnate. Arius demoted Jesus Christ to a created being, though still a divine being. John 3:16 says that “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son.” If Jesus was begotten from God the Father, doesn’t that suggest that there was a time he didn’t exist—that he came into being after God the Father? Meanwhile, across town, a pastor in training, Athanasius, was teaching that God the Father and Christ the Son were equally divine. Hearing this, Arius cried heresy, and quite a row erupted, with church members quickly choosing sides. This disagreement soon spread beyond Alexandria. “We Believe” or “I Believe”?The beginning of the Nicene Creed was originally written in Greek in the first-person plural: “We believe.” When translated into Latin, it became credo: “I believe.There isn’t a right or wrong choice when using the creed today. If the creed is used liturgically as a statement of unity, “We believe” is appropriate. If it is functioning as a personal statement of faith, “I believe” may be the better choice.Constantine, the Roman emperor and a fairly new convert to Christianity, was worried about the political fallout of the growing division. He summoned more than a thousand Christian leaders to Nicaea for a meeting that lasted from May through July of 325. Around three hundred of the attendees were bishops active in the debates about the nature of Christ. At this three-month meeting, participants made a variety of decisions, including when to celebrate Easter and when people were permitted to kneel in prayer. Of most significance, though, was the formulation of a new statement regarding the divinity of Christ; this became known as the Nicene Creed. In 381, at the First Council of Constantinople, the creed was expanded to include additional clarification around the Holy Spirit, finishing the work begun at the Council of Nicaea. The significance of this council’s work and of the resulting Nicene Creed cannot be overstated, even if few of our congregations make regular use of the creed in worship. FILIOQUE CLAUSEWhile it may have seemed that the councils of Nicaea and Constantinople put an end to Arianism, which denied the divinity of Christ, the reality was that this heresy continued to plague churches in the West, particularly in Spain. To combat the heresy, Western churches wanted to make Christ’s divinity very clear. They did so by adding “and the Son” to the section on the Holy Spirit, insisting that the Holy Spirit proceeds from “the Father and the Son.” In Latin, “and the Son” is expressed as the single word filioque. The addition of the filioque clause  is one of the reasons given for the split between the Orthodox Church of the East and the Roman Catholic churches of the West in 1054. The Eastern church thought the clause implies the Holy Spirit is a lesser member of the Trinity; the Western church believed it didn’t change the creed’s meaning. Today, most theologians from the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions no longer see the filioque clause as a reason for division, understanding that they are professing the same truth in different ways. The Nicene Creed . . .. . . is ecumenical: The basic truths affirmed in this creed are held in common by Christians around the globe. Whether we say the creed often or not, Christian churches of all denominations—small and large, rural and urban, Eastern and Western, from the Northern and Southern hemispheres, with all kinds of worship styles—fundamentally agree with what is claimed in this creed. Given all we disagree with each other on, this is no small feat and should be what unites us as the siblings in Christ that we are. When we say “We believe,” we can truly say “we” to mean “all Christians.”. . . embraces trinitarian mystery: Ambiguity might make scientists anxious, but the Nicene Creed has no problem with mystery and contradictions. It’s able to do what Arius wouldn’t: affirm the divinity of Christ. Christ is “of the same substance” as the Father, and coeternal with him. The creed outlines Christ’s work of salvation through his incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension—all four equally important. The Nicene Creed also affirms the profound mystery of the three-in-oneness of the Trinity—three persons, yet one essence. These theological truths are foundational to our Christian faith—a faith built on mystery and truth, a faith worth declaring boldly. I don’t regret my time at seminary exploring answers to the question “Who is Jesus?” My faith continues to deepen as I pursue that question and grow in my desire to know Jesus. Still, difficult times come, and as I journey through life, I find that the creeds serve as anchors in seasons of doubt or challenge. And it’s both powerful and heartbreaking to know that these same words are being proclaimed each week by Christians in Gaza and Jerusalem, in Russia and Ukraine, Ethiopia, Sudan, Syria, Iraq, China, Haiti, and along the southern border of the United States. Together in the face of opposition, in times of unimaginable grief and suffering, immense joy, unshakeable faith, and even seasons of doubt, together we declare, “We believe!” 

Do not ask me about my daughter’s adoption story.I say that only as a warning, because once I get going . . . whoo-eee. It’s a good one. God showed up to perform modern-day miracles that rival that of Elisha and the widow’s oil—blessings just kept coming in unbelievable ways that have unbelievers shaking their heads to this day. I love that story. I will drop everything at any time to tell anyone. I don’t need any time to prepare. It’s part of me and bursts from me. What story do you love to tell?In this issue of Reformed Worship, we finish our exploration of the connection between worship and mission. In the last issue we focused on Christ as the Servant-King and on our mission of following Christ’s example of service. In this issue we focus on our mission of telling the salvation story, which includes our own stories. The worship series “God Is In the Story” offers an opportunity for congregants to tell their stories of how they have seen God at work in their lives. Dr. David Music encourages us to prepare how we tell the story when we are asked to read Scripture in worship (“Reading Scripture in Public Worship” ). Lindsay Wieland Capel also reminds us to consider different ways to tell the story when we share it with people who communicate and learn in a variety of ways (“Worship for All: What Worship Planners Can Learn from Universal Design for Learning”). And because this is the Ascension and Pentecost issue, there also are resources to help you tell that part of the gospel message.God showed up to perform modern-day miracles that rival that of Elisha and the widow’s oil—blessings just kept coming in unbelievable ways that have unbelievers shaking their heads to this day.This year also marks the 1700th anniversary of the Nicene Creed. We have included a few resources to help you commemorate that milestone by using the creed in worship and exploring its meaning. The creed itself is a wonderful summary of the gospel message and an effective tool for discipleship. How would our approach to the creed change if we approached it as a story we get to tell rather than as merely a historic document?What story do you love to tell? I think that’s an important question to ask ourselves and those in our worshiping communities. Where is God in that story? Do you have the same enthusiasm for your personal story as you do for the gospel message itself? I know the story and can tell it, but I imagine that I am like many of you—and like many of those who gather with you in worship. There are times I feel great enthusiasm and times I feel disengaged. There are times in my life when the gospel message has burst forth from my heart and lips and times when I’ve cried, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” There are times when I’m the one testifying, and there are times where my faith has been renewed by the testimony of others. The act of telling our own stories of God’s faithfulness in worship and in other settings is not just missional, but formational and pastoral. Let us not neglect this task.

This week’s sermon text, John 20:1-18, has a profound yet simple testimony: “I have seen the Lord!” Where do we see the Lord today? When the Lord reveals himself to us, through scripture, creation, words of people, books, music, etc, we should also declare, “I have seen the Lord!” Other readings from the lectionary for today remind us that we are called to give account to the hope that we have. Easter equips us with both the words and actions to give such an account. 

This week began with the joyful sounds of “Hosanna!” but now the crowds cry “crucify.” Jesus was the ultimate servant, giving his life for the sake of the world. While the price to follow Christ might not be as high for us today, Christ made it clear that following him will cost each of us something.  As Christ said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it” (Luke 9: 23-24).

Can you think of a situation in which explaining what to do wasn’t effective, so you needed to show the person how to do it? Jesus reverses this pattern: He starts by showing, then spends some time explaining. In the gospel of John, much of his final time of teaching the disciples has to do with love—his love for them, his hope that they will continue to love him, and his command that they love each other. But he begins all his teaching with a vivid demonstration of love: He washes his disciples’ feet. This act is set in the middle of John’s account of Judas’s betrayal. Jesus’ love is not dependent on his disciples’ behavior. It is offered in advance of and with full knowledge of all their coming cowardice, denials, and betrayals. And this act ends with a clear application: Show this same humble, servant-like love to each other.

It is worth noting that in Luke’s account of the triumphal entry there is no mention of the Palms; instead Luke highlights the laying down of the coats, a sign of reverence and subservience. Little did Christ’s followers understand of what true service to God requires: Nothing short of our whole lives, not merely our cloak. Yet, though they did not grasp the deep significance of the pageantry unfolding in front of them, they played a significant part. The message of the angels proclaimed in Luke 2:14 —“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests” —has now been taken up by Christ’s disciples, “‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’ ‘Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!’” (Luke 19:38). As Christ’s disciples in the world today, we need to continue that refrain or else the stones will cry out in our place.

What acts of service are meaningful? Is the call to serve, to live missionally, just for those who work for the church or a mission organization ? Is it for those with a particular gift?

Like the Pharisees we often are too worried about what others think about us. We worry what would happen if we hung out with the wrong people, or if someone saw us acting outside of approved norms. We spend so much time talking about our differences that we fail to see the many more ways that we are the same. The father in the story of the prodigal son  loved the prodigal son and he loved the lost son who stayed at home. Christ loved all the sinners around the table. Christ loved the Pharisees though they chose not to see it.

Living a life of service with a heart of service means recognizing the radical and complete equality in the body of Christ. In a sermon preached a few months before his assassination Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. . . . You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant" (Martin Luther King Jr., “Drum Major Instinct” Sermon, 4 February 1968).

Our passage this week is Luke 13:31–35 where Christ talks about foxes and hens. The fox is understood as Herod, and the hen is Jesus. Instead of the hen running away from the fox, the hen runs to the fox. Jesus continues on to Jerusalem. And while it seems the fox kills the hen, in the end true strength comes from the weakness and vulnerability of the hen. Sacrificial love always wins over power. We are called to that same love, that same attitude, that same humble service and willingness to knowingly lay down our lives. That calls for commitment.