The Words That Matter: Why We Still Read the Nicene Creed

At my church, we have a rhythm that some might find archaic, or perhaps even repetitive. Once a month, we stand together, clear our throats, and recite the Nicene Creed. We don't do it because we’ve run out of contemporary songs or because we’re particularly fond of fourth-century prose. We do it because these words are the foundations of faith.

In a world that feels increasingly unmoored, where the "new" is almost always equated with the "true," there is a profound, almost subversive power in speaking words that have anchored the soul of the Church for nearly 1,700 years. For me, it isn’t just a ritual. It’s a pulse check. It’s a way to ensure that the air we are breathing isn't just the smog of the present age, but the oxygen of the eternal.

As we navigate the complexities of modern life, we often find ourselves drifting. We drift toward cultural convenience, toward a "tame" version of Jesus, or toward a faith that is more about our feelings than about cosmic reality. This is why we need to look back. To move forward with any sense of direction, we must first understand the ground upon which we stand.


1. The Paradigm of RetroChristianity

RetroChristianity

When we talk about returning to these ancient standards, we aren't talking about mere traditionalism. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living; what we are looking for is the living faith of the dead. Scholar Michael J. Svigel calls this concept RetroChristianity.

The "Retro" in RetroChristianity isn't a nostalgic pining for a simpler time that never actually existed. Instead, it’s a deliberate, strategic retrieval of the historic, apostolic, and Nicene foundations of our faith. Svigel argues that much of contemporary evangelicalism has become detached from the very body of tradition that gave it birth. By ignoring the creeds, we haven't become more "biblical"; we’ve just become more susceptible to the whims of the moment.

We often operate under the "tame" assumption that we are the first generation to truly understand the Bible. We treat the text as if it dropped out of the sky yesterday, purely for our personal self-actualization. RetroChristianity challenges this. It forces us to realize that the Great Tradition, exemplified by the Nicene Creed, is the "interpretive horizon" that keeps us from drifting into eccentricity.

When I say the Creed, I am acknowledging that I am not an island. I am part of a "one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church" that exists across time and space. These aren't just old words; they are the architectural blueprints of our identity. As Svigel notes in his work, if we want to survive the coming storms of secularism and syncretism, we must re-anchor ourselves in the Trinitarian and Christological dogmas that the early church fought and died to preserve.

The Thesis: Orthodoxy is not a prison; it is the map that allows us to explore the wilderness without getting lost.


2. The Unseen Geography: Visible and Invisible

Visible and Invisible

One of the phrases in the Nicene Creed that resonates most deeply with me is the confession that God is the Maker of "all things visible and invisible."

In our modern, Western context, we tend to relegate "faith" to the realm of the invisible: meaning the private, the emotional, or the merely symbolic. We live in a disenchanted world where the "invisible" is often treated as a bug to be explained away by science or psychology. But the Creed insists that the invisible is just as much a part of the "real world" as the chair you are sitting on.

This aligns inextricably with what we’ve discussed regarding a Supernatural Worldview. If we take the Deuteronomy 32 worldview seriously, we recognize that the "invisible" realm is populated. It is a cosmic theater involving the "sons of God," principalities, and powers. When we recite the Creed, we are affirming a reality that is far more fantastic than the materialist silos we often inhabit.

We are confessing that the spiritual realm isn't just a metaphor for our inner struggles; it is an objective territory. By acknowledging "all things… invisible," we are refusing to let the secular age dictate the boundaries of reality. We are stepping out of the "tame" box of modern naturalism and back into the "wild" world of the Bible: a world where heaven and earth overlap, and where the unseen forces of the cosmos are actively involved in the human story.

The Reality: The unseen realm is the "intellectual air" we breathe, whether we acknowledge it or not. The Creed simply forces us to open the windows.


3. A Line in the Sand: A Boundary for Identity

Line in the Sand

Why do we keep reading these words every month? Because they represent a line in the sand.

In the early centuries, the Creeds were often called the Symbolum: a "password" or a "token" that identified a true believer. In a world of competing "gospels" and philosophical chaos, the Creed was the boundary marker. It told the world who we were and, perhaps more importantly, who we were not.

Today, we are often told that boundaries are "legalistic" or "exclusionary." We are encouraged to have a "fluid" identity that shifts with the cultural tide. But a faith without boundaries is not a faith at all; it’s just a fog. To have a center, you must have a circumference.

The Nicene Creed provides that circumference. It defines the "foundations of faith" by asserting the non-negotiables:

  • The literal Incarnation of the Son.
  • The bodily Resurrection.
  • The future, literal Return of Christ.
  • The essential unity of the Trinity.

When I stand with my church family and say these words, we are drawing a line. We are saying that despite our differences in politics, personality, or background, we are bound together by this specific set of cosmic truths. It is our "interpretive anchor." Without it, we are just a social club with some religious overtones. With it, we are an outpost of the Kingdom of God, rooted in an ancient and enduring reality.

The Conclusion: Sin is an infection, and the Creed is the immune system of the Church.


Staying Grounded in the Foundations

The Nicene Creed isn't a replacement for Scripture; it is a summary of it. It’s a tool for biblical study that ensures we aren't misreading the text through the distorted lens of our own ego.

By engaging in this monthly practice, we are training our "spiritual muscles" to recognize the truth. We are reminding ourselves that we are part of something much larger than our local congregation or our current cultural moment. We are part of a story that began before the foundations of the world and will continue long after the "visible" things of this age have passed away.

If you’re feeling drifted or overwhelmed by the noise of the world, I invite you to look back. Pick up the Creed. Read it slowly. Realize that these words have been the "foundations of faith" for millions of believers who faced persecutions, plagues, and collapses far greater than our own.

They stood their ground. Because of these words, we can too.

To dive deeper into the world of Michael J. Svigel and the "RetroChristianity" movement, you can check out his book RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith or read his article about it here. Let's keep looking back so we can see the way forward.


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One response to “The Words That Matter: Why We Still Read the Nicene Creed”

  1. missticley Avatar
    missticley

    Excellent message, as usual. Here is what stuck out to me in this piece: It is our “interpretive anchor.” Without it, we are just a social club with some religious overtones. I have been saying this for years and years to the point of exhaustion. As I was reading and praying this morning, I had a sense that this is the time where our Lord will open the minds of men by imparting HIS spirit. I pray that I heard correctly and that this event will happen soon. Thanks, Ray, for your ongoing encouragment.

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