Recently a friend mentioned that the Apostles' Creed no longer means what it once did.
A few days later I had a dream:
I was in a church, maybe even the one I used to know. And I rose with my peers to recite a creed, some collection of words written centuries ago to express dogmatic ideals.
Yet in this dream, I knew the words but could not speak. And suddenly the familiar words became something new. Still English, but I could not make sense of the phrases echoing around me.
Meaningless.
After a few sentences, the stoic mumbles of the crowd grew quiet and I could only hear one voice. It was the voice of a man I did not know.
A man, certainty echoing in his voice as he spoke these words of truth.
These meaningless words.
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