Many of our beliefs are inherited, passed on in formative years, first through family and then through our educational experience. They are part of our story and identity, the cosmology of belonging. Beliefs also arise through experience, inclination or, in some instances, revelation. Many are the fruits of faith.
I often ask my religious education students ‘What do you stand for?’ ‘What or whom do you believe in?’ Sometimes, I ask them ‘What won’t you stand for?’
AFFIRMATIONS
In some ways I am asking them to devise or revise a set of beliefs, not so much dos and don’ts, but affirmations as to how to live a life that is earthly and eternal. Occasionally, there is an element of provocation, of deep thinking and discernment, of intuiting an answer that has layers of meaning. Sometimes there may be a bit of prodding because I know we can all too easily mime the words without interrogating what they really mean and how this should shape our lives.
This is more than just a charter of citizen values; it is something far more fundamental. This is a soul statement. To say I believe is more than lip service or a rhetorical nicety. It is a covenant. It is agreement and acceptance. It is our participation in the salvation story and the hope of the world to come as we acknowledge the triune God breathing through history.
Here in Australia, we can live out our faith in safety and security and can gather freely in community to observe our rituals. For Catholics, the profession of faith in the Nicene Creed at Sunday Mass is a reminder of the tradition of our theological belief.
FROM THE HEART
When we utter the words ‘I believe’, they come from the heart. It is a statement of truth and belonging, a statement that represents the living continuum of the Magisterium. In stating what we believe, there is a divine coalescence between our own inner sacred space and the outer sacred space represented by our faith community. Saying these words together strengthens the one holy Catholic and apostolic Church.
The Nicene Creed depicts the omniscience of God in all things. There is a poetic duality in the words: ‘Maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.’ For me, this magnifies God’s abundance, his hand upon the wheel of creation, that divine spark that bespoke all things. I am reminded of the Genesis story and the greater and lesser lights of sun and moon. Albert Camus may have written of the benign indifference of the stars to mankind’s destiny, but I gaze at the twinkling night sky and feel God with me.
WONDERS OF THE WORLD
I look about to see the world and its wonders and am thankful for the sensory stimulation that enables me to see the soft pink blush of dawn, hear the canticle of birdsong, hug my daughter tightly, smell the fragrance of lemongrass and enjoy the taste of dark chocolate. Visible joys are what John O’Donoghue refers to as the flock of colours minding one’s life. Invisible joys are those of being loved and loving, knowing that beauty, truth and goodness are alive, that words can embolden and calm, that God has a plan for me.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord the giver of life.
What I can do now is to listen to the words of the prophets, then and now, and let the Spirit lift and guide me, the wind beneath my wings.
Ann Rennie is a Melbourne writer, teacher and former REC. She believes in the Good News and the power of words to change the world.