Home

July 10, 2022

This morning, Linda and I got to worship with our congregation at Park church after being down south for a week visiting friends. While visiting, last Sunday we worshipped at a large church in Norfolk, VA. It had everything going for it—great worship team, engaging preaching, wonderful facilities, friendly and welcoming greeters. It was a great experience!

But I found myself feeling strangely lacking in something; I couldn’t put my finger on it till this morning as we began worship reciting together, 

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.

And in his only Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, 

Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, 

Born of the Virgin Mary,

Suffered under Pontius Pilate,

Was crucified, dead, and buried…”

Later, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper together as we do every Sunday, praying the Lord’s Prayer, and singing the Doxology.

I remember when we first began observing the Lord’s Supper every Sunday. Some objected, saying that it would lose its meaning if we did it so often, to which I replied, “If that’s so, we ought to quit coming to church on Sunday, lest worship lose its meaning.” 

I’ve found over the years that these acts of worship have become essential to me. No matter how my week has gone, whether it’s been a raging success or an utter failure, the Creed brings me back to the center, grounding me in something far greater and deeper than the latest worship song can do. The Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Communion, all remind me of who I am and who God is. They give my life a solidity it would otherwise lack. Not only do they tell me who I am; more importantly, they tell me who my God is, and what he is like. 

As our worship service opened, I closed my eyes and recited the words of the Creed. We sang, pastor Joe preached, and we bowed before the mystery of the Lord’s Table, praying the Lord’s Prayer, and concluding with the Doxology. I was home.