For many Christians, especially
younger ones, “tradition” is a dirty word. When the word is spoken or written,
it conjures images of cold rituals and overblown ceremonies. Many see
traditions as unnecessary elements of faith which suck the life and personality
out of our walk with Christ. For many years, I felt this way. I didn’t want to
schedule regular times for reading my Bible or praying. I didn’t want to make
my faith about showing up to church just because I was expected to. I wanted a
relationship with God that was spontaneous and dynamic, and I mistakenly
believed that tradition would make that impossible.
When I was in high school, I was swept up in the whole, “It’s a relationship, not a religion” trend. I watched all those trendy videos on the internet. I read all those edgy blog posts. In one way, it was definitely healthy. It gave my faith a much-needed injection of personality and intimacy. However, to me, that injection came with the unfortunate implication that traditions, rituals, ceremonies, and the like were strictly barriers to a healthy faith, not aids. So I decided that if I was going to pray, read my Bible, or go to church, it would only be when I felt the desire to do so. As a result, I just stopped reading the Bible, praying, or going to church. I never really felt the serious desire to do any of those things, and if I did, I chalked it up to a feeling of guilt or obligation, and I didn’t follow through. My faith quickly declined. I was no longer in love with God. For a little while, I didn’t even believe in him.
Eventually, however, God brought me back. I can’t explain it, but one night, I started to feel the need to pray again. I did not feel the desire to pray; I felt the NEED to pray. So I did. I prayed. I read my Bible. I dove into church life with a vengeance. It was at this point that I understood the real value of tradition. A scheduled faith, with repetition and a focus on consistency, is not supposed to govern how we approach God. You can (and probably should) experience God outside of church and regularly scheduled devotion time. The point is that we live in a busy, changing world. The stresses, inconsistencies, and time constraints of this fallen world come between us and our King. There’s a saying, “If you love someone, you will make time for them.” In a world where there are so many earthly concerns to pursue, it can be easy to let God be pushed to the wayside. This is where traditions, when performed well, come into play. They carve out a consistent, comfortable niche in which we can escape from our daily concerns for a moment, focusing all of our attention on the divine, letting the world around us go for a brief time.
As a Baptist, my church background is not as filled with traditions and ceremonies as, say, a Roman Catholic or an Episcopalian. What traditions I have experienced are hardly complex. For me, tradition is simply showing up to church at 10:00 AM, taking communion once a month with oyster crackers and grape juice (as opposed to wine, one of the more disappointing Evangelical/Baptist traditions), and going to men’s breakfast every other Tuesday, at 6:00 AM. These traditions are incredibly mundane and simple, but they serve an important purpose. They are sacred spaces, so to speak. They are places in time that exist solely to allow me to worship, receive spiritual edification and instructions, enjoy fellowship with other believers, etc. My work and personal schedules are structured around these sacred spaces. When I’m having a rough week, I can look forward to these “rituals”, if you could call them that, knowing that I will enjoy them and find relief from the pains of everyday life.
Traditions are not walls meant to control when and how we are allowed to experience God, but ways to ensure we have consistent times and methods to experience God. Humans are creatures of habit. We find comfort and security in routine. A faith structured with rituals, ceremonies, and traditions of all sorts can be deeply personal, dynamic, and complex. I know mine is.
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