The other day I was on a Zoom call and the subjects of Relative and Essential truth came up in the course of discussion. That got me considering how long it had been since writing something that approached a personal creed…that included my take on elements of more formal creeds and also things more personal than formal. If I couldn’t remember, I figure it’s been a while…so I had another go at it.

I believe…

In grace and wonder; sunshine, sleep, and a good thunderous storm; In God, creator of heaven and earth.

In love, in love, in love—in its ease and in its difficult honour; In Jesus, fully human, fully divine, welcomer, walker, listener, Word.

In grounding wisdom learned from time spent on this Earth, the stumbling glory of a life, growing roots that shape a nest surrounding; In the Holy Spirit, sustaining breath, buoy in the waters, lighthouse on the shore, firefly of hope, and promise, and Yes.

I believe…

Prayer can look like cookie dough; sound like quiet; taste like salt upon lips; feel like the wind that brings birds to your branches and seeds for your soil; and smell like the sea or the crisp crackle cedar cold smell beneath trees in winter.

Complimenting a stranger is no small thing; Sharing a meal is gift; Laughter is gift; And so too tears; And so too an embrace that reminds us that we are soft and we are solid and we are worthy and we are not alone.

Saying “thank you” well makes a difference and holding a lantern in the nighttime of a friend’s fear is a privilege.

I believe…

In the communion of earthly elements, bread and wine,  and that We too are earthly elements, we who spark and shine,  cleave, combust, create. I believe that when these, the bread, the wine, are taken in together as one, we know again the Great Becoming— all elements, one table, one Source, one awakening.

I believe that we are each and we are all in essence, in substance, in amazement, of Earth and Source, God and our Grounding. And this communion, the blessing and the wonder of it,  has unsettling implications: No longer can I be inert,  no longer impermeable, no longer alone, no longer so different,  than neighbour or unknown stranger, than sand or moss or vine, than tree, than bloom, than the honeybee.

And, I believe in the Resurrection, in community, in discovery and revelation, in wonder and in awe and in contemplative curiosity. I believe in Mystery and in the more to come and in the quiet thrill of not knowing.