Much to my surprise, some time ago the Nicene Creed was trending online among the Southern Baptists, America’s largest Baptist organization. They were, apparently, debating whether or not that Creed should be added to their official statement of faith. This was a bit controversial since the Southern Baptists are well-known for their position that they have “no Creed but the Bible”. Though it is hard for me to work up any enthusiasm or interest in what our Southern Baptist friends do with their official statement of faith, the news does provoke the question, “What’s so important about the Nicene Creed?” Or, in blunter terms, why should anyone today care about what a bunch of guys decided about 1700 years ago? Permit me to attempt an answer.

Once when I was a new convert to Anglicanism (a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away) I asked my dear Anglican pastor why our Anglican Church no longer canonized any saints. I knew that the Roman Catholic Church continued to canonize saints and (had I only known it back then) the Orthodox Church continued to canonize saints, but the Anglican Church did not. What was the deal?

I have just finished reading a very 2002 interesting book The Case for Christ, written in Evangelical style by Lee Strobel. One of the chapters was about how Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah, for which Mr. Strobel interviewed Mr. Louis S. Lapides, a Jewish convert to the Christian faith who now has a B.A. in theology from Dallas Baptist University and an M. Div. and a Master of Theology from Talbot Theological Seminary and who is now senior pastor at Beth Ariel Fellowship in California.

The whimsical title of this blog post is based on the 1969 book by David Reuben entitled Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask). I chose the title because although the Church has its own teaching about sexuality, many young Orthodox Christians are afraid to inquire diligently about it for fear the Church will give unwelcome advice. Which of course it will.

Recently I was re-reading a good but somewhat dated book about the episcopate, entitled The Apostolic Ministry, a collection of essays edited by Bishop Kenneth Kirk and published 1946. In one piece, written by Beatrice Hamilton Thompson on the “Post-Reformation Episcopate in England”, the author compared the state of the episcopate at the time Archbishop of Canterbury Matthew Parker (d. 1575) to that of the episcopate at the time of St. Cyprian of Carthage (d. 258).

Recently I have come across an anti-Orthodox polemic which rejects our veneration of icons on the grounds that venerating an image painted on a board of Christ, His Mother, or His saints is contrary to the practice of the apostles and of the earliest Church. The objection is stated with some sophistication, and is not the usual fundamentalist reference to the Mosaic Law’s proscription of carved statues used in worship (e.g. Exodus 20:4f). This more sophisticated objection acknowledges that there were indeed images of Christ, His Mother, and His saints used in the early Church such as can be found in the funerary art of the catacombs and on the walls of churches (such as that of Dura Europos). But, it points out, there is no evidence that these images functioned as anything more than mere decoration. That is, the people did not come up to the wall to kiss the wall art or venerate the images.

Recently a minor fracas in the narthex of our church was caused by (I kid you not) my long hair (see inset for a rear view of said hair). Since my hair steadfastly refuses to grow on the top of my head, you would think I could be cut a little slack for the bit that grows at the back, but apparently not.

Thousands of years ago when I was a teenager and a brand-new Christian, I happened to read an article by S.G.F. Brandon about Jesus being a Zealot, in which he questioned much if not most of the Gospel portrait of Jesus and suggested that the Gospels (particularly that of Mark) constituted a whitewash of Jesus, eliminating His Zealotry from the Gospel picture to make Him and His movement more acceptable in Roman eyes. It was, of course, a precis of his 1967 book Jesus and the Zealots which created something of an academic dust up in its day.

It has been suggested to me that in many (most?) Evangelical circles one becomes a Christian “by accepting the finished work of Christ”—i.e. by believing and accepting as true that on the cross Jesus paid the full price due our sin and by saying a prayer acknowledging this.

I am sometimes asked if an Orthodox Christian can have an assurance that he or she will be saved. The question usually comes from my converts from Evangelicalism. They were previously taught that when one is saved, one is given the assurance that they are saved and this assurance offers a real and constant source of comfort. They ask me, “Were we misled? Can an Orthodox Christian have the same assurance of salvation?”