We saw previously that, while the word “creed” does not appear in Scripture, the principle of encapsulating essential truth in brief, memorable form has thorough biblical warrant. Texts like Colossians 1:15–22, for example, read like confessions in their own right:
Some scholars believe Paul was drawing here on an early Christian hymn, shaping it into a confession for a church that had begun to drift from the truth about Christ. The pattern can be seen elsewhere. First Timothy 3:16 offers a compact confession of the gospel, and texts like Ephesians 4:4–6 read similarly. These are not late inventions. They are the church, from its earliest days, formulating apostolic truth into summarised, memorable, confessable form.
Why do creeds feel so foreign?
But if creeds and confessions have biblical warrant, why do so many churches—particularly evangelical churches—instinctively resist them? Carl Trueman identifies five cultural forces within Christian churches that contribute toward this hesitancy.
Expressive individualism
The first force is expressive individualism, which tells us that truth must be defined inwardly before it is expressed outwardly. A creed, on the other hand, is a standard external to myself to which I submit, regardless of how I feel.
The New Testament portrays Christianity as a corporate faith. Communion is corporate—“discerning the body” and eating together rather than each pursuing “his own meal” (1 Corinthians 11:20–21). Singing is not only vertical but horizontal—“addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” (Ephesians 5:19). Baptism brings the individual into the many, while the Lord’s Supper reminds the many that they are one. The whole shape of the church’s worship pushes back against the idea that I alone determine what is true or acceptable.
Creeds do not facilitate expressive individualism. They boldly declare that the church across the world and throughout the ages has agreed on and confessed truth that Christ’s disciples must receive.
Devaluing the past
The second force is the assumption that we have simply outgrown the past. Lewis called this “chronological snobbery.” We imagine that our advances in science and technology have rendered the past irrelevant. Churches today are not only disconnected from each other, but also from historic Christianity across the centuries. Creeds force us to admit that we are no wiser than preceding generations. The Spirit taught truth to the earliest generations and we have learned nothing essential that they did not know.
One of the greatest benefits of embracing ancient creeds is that they help us to recognise our connectedness to historic Christianity. Jeremiah once delivered this very challenge to his listeners: “Thus says the LORD: ‘Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.’” The ancient paths were “good” and walking in them “rest[ful].” Sadly, the people stubbornly retorted, “We will not walk in them” (Jeremiah 6:16). Similarly, far too many Christians and Christian churches today stubbornly refuse the ancient paths, thinking they know better.
This underscores expressive individualism. If the past has nothing to teach me, then I can determine what is true and right. Creeds become irrelevant.
Mysticism and pragmatism
The third force pulls in what looks like the opposite direction but flows from the same root. Having rejected the “old-fashioned,” some seek the transcendent through <em{emotional highs,=”” vague=”” spirituality,=”” or=”” borrowed=”” mysticism<=”” em=””>—anything that feels like an encounter with something beyond the ordinary.</em{emotional>
<em{emotional highs,=”” vague=”” spirituality,=”” or=”” borrowed=”” mysticism<=”” em=””>There is something good buried in this longing. People were made to walk with God, as Adam and Eve did in the garden, and that hunger for the transcendent is real and God-given. We err when we confuse the transcendent with either the merely old-fashioned or the merely emotional.</em{emotional>
<em{emotional highs,=”” vague=”” spirituality,=”” or=”” borrowed=”” mysticism<=”” em=””>The Christian faith is not mystical. Yes, Christianity embraces a degree of mystery. Christians observe sacraments, which literally means “mystery.” But Christianity is rooted in historical reality. There are propositional truths that are essential to Christianity. The faith once delivered to the saints is about truth, not mere experience.</em{emotional>
Anti-authoritarianism
The fourth force is suspicion of authority itself. Our society is deeply suspicious of institutions, to some degree because of abuse of power. Some of that suspicion has is justified. But suspicion becomes a problem when it rejects authority altogether, or accepts only the authority it already agrees with.
Creeds call for submission to something received, not merely to what we would have chosen for ourselves. The rise of social media has exacerbated this trend. When anyone can have a podcast or a YouTube channel and express what they believe, there is no need to affirm received truth. In fact, the popularity of your channel is often dependent on something new and exciting. A thumbnail promising to tell you “what everyone gets wrong about hell” is more likely to draw views than one that offers historic truth on the same topic. Our innate suspicion of authority leads us to suspect that the church has it wrong, so we are quick to lend our ears to those who can tell us what is wrong.
Creeds, on the other hand, call us to affirm ancient, unchanging truths. Yes, it is possible that what you were taught is wrong, and it is commendable to search the Scriptures to verify the truth of what is taught, but to assume that what you were taught must be incorrect will quickly lead to you being blown about by every wind of doctrine.
Fear of exclusion
The fifth, and perhaps the most keenly felt, force is the fear of saying anything that might exclude someone. But creeds and confessions, by their very nature, involve both affirmation and denial. To confess one thing is, necessarily, to exclude another.
This does not mean the church should exclude people from the invitation to come and know the truth. Quite the opposite. Visitors should never be turned away or treated coldly. But there is a difference between welcoming people warmly and pretending that all beliefs are equally true in order to avoid discomfort. A church can and should welcome without necessarily affirming everything. Truth, rightly held, will always exclude what is false. The goal is never exclusion for exclusion’s sake, but faithfulness to what has been confessed, offered generously to anyone willing to come and discover it.
Where this leads
None of these five forces is unique to the wider culture. They creep into the church quietly, often disguised as humility or openness, and no church is immune to them. Recognising them is the first step towards resisting them. And as we resist them, we will find ourselves confessing, with the church across the globe and across the ages,
Creeds like this are not a departure from Scripture but a distillation of it—truth received, confessed together, and handed down. The invitation is not to trade the Bible for a creed, but to let the creed do what it has always done: gather God’s people around what he has revealed, so that together—not merely individually—we might confess him as Lord.