Afterword

When I was in seminary, we had to write a “Credo” between our second year and third. This was more-or-less the Master’s Thesis. It needed to be 20 pages in length – which seems like a lot until you have to cram everything you know about the Bible, church history, philosophy, psychology, and your own theology. Twenty pages are not enough.

And it is the Credo – which means “I believe” – that must be defended orally, facing three professors. They told us we could select our favorite three professors, and they would try to get us at least one of our choices. I thought I would be smart and pick the three I had the most difficulty with over the previous two years.

I got all three! The three hours proved to be the intellectually most grueling of my life. Fortunately, the Credo was graded as either “Credit” or “No Credit.” I somehow received “Credit.”

That was 42 years ago. And for 30 of those years, I presented a mini-credo every Sunday morning. Retail theology.

But my desire, my calling, was not to bestow my brilliance on the congregation. My hope was to encourage those who heard my words to “work out their own salvation with fear and trembling” by doing their own theological reflection. Find who God and Christ and the Holy Spirit were for themselves.

It was a good profession for me. And when I retired, I was glad to step down from the pulpit. But the urge to create a “final” Credo never left me.

In retirement, I turned my sermonizing into essay writing, and after a couple of these under the main title of “Moving Towards Wisdom,” I realized these essays had quietly become a full expression of my understanding of faith.

And this is it.

Thank you for joining me on a quiet adventure.