Of course, the fact that the Nicene Creed does not speak to the liberation of the oppressed or the poor—or the suffering of the sick, or etc.—means that its utility is limited to particular contexts. It is not for instance of the greatest pastoral relevance. As a general rule, it would be a shabby pastor who, meeting with a family to discuss funeral plans for a recently deceased loved one, starts off by saying "Let's recite the Nicene Creed." (An equally shabby pastor would in such a context begin with readings on metallurgy). And of course, insofar as the Nicene Creed is read within living communities, often within the context of some sort of liturgy, there is always the possibility of framing it such that it does speak more fully to such matters such as the liberation of the poor and the oppression. For instance, the Nicene Creed states that the Son came to save, but leaves that salvation largely undefined. A pastor could homiletically fill in that lacuna with a liberationist understanding of salvation, or a theologian could do the same in their writing. This is entirely doable. But the point would still stand: the Nicene Creed as it stands needs a lot of work if it is to relate directly to the day-to-day struggles of those who suffer and mourn and struggle. And that simply because it's not meant to relate directly to such issues. It is not a document intended primarily for pastoral care.
(N.B.: That it is an expression of "empire approved Christianity" is historically and theologically vacuous, to the point of meaninglessness. Yes, it emerged from church councils that were in part sponsored by the emperor, but it does not follow from this that it expresses a distinct form of Christianity best described using the adjective "empire approved." And even if it did, one should want to avoid the genetic fallacy, which consists of rejecting a set of claims because of their origin).
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