“I Believe”

Looking over the text of the Divine Liturgy, we find very few “I” statements. The Liturgy is a communal act and the content of the prayers and hymns reflect this. There are, however, two notable exceptions. One is in the Creed and the other is the prayer that we read immediately before Holy Communion. Both of these sacred texts begin with the words “I believe.”
By saying “I believe,” we are making a personal confession of faith, aligning ourselves with the collective belief of the Church, first proclaimed by the holy apostles. “I believe” is not an abstract statement—this is the language of conviction, trust, and relationship.
We don’t say “I think” or “I theorize,” but “I believe.” In the New Testament, belief is never just intellectual agreement. It is an act of entrusting ourselves to God. St. Paul says clearly, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). To believe with the heart is to place our whole life in God’s hands. We hear this invitation over and over again in the Divine Liturgy: “…let us commend ourselves and each other and all our life to Christ our God.”
The Lord Himself connects belief with life. In John 11:25–26, standing at the tomb of Lazarus, Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” The question He asks Martha is the same He asks each of us when we begin the Creed and then again as we approach the Holy Eucharist: Do you believe this?

A Cross of Tragedy and Victory

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom said that the Cross is both a tragedy and a victory, revealing what is perhpas the greatest and most beautiful paradox in the Gospel. The tragedy lies in Christ’s innocent suffering and the shameful nature of crucifixion—a punishment for criminals and political outcasts—yet Christ willingly endures it out of  selfless love.

Our Lord did not will to be lifted up on the Cross for his own sake. He did it for us. Because Christ’s death was freely offered, the Cross becomes the act of sacrificial love that transforms death from tragedy to glory. “The Cross,” he said, “an instrument of infamous death… because Christ’s death was that of an innocent, and because this death was a gift of self in an act of love—becomes victory.”

Christians are called to embrace this paradox: taking up the Cross means denying selfishness and opening ourselves to divine love, which is, in Metropoltian Anthony’s words, “love sacrificial, love crucified, but love exulting in the joy of life.” This transformation demonstrates how defeat leads to glory through self-emptying love and ultimate hope.