The Tension Between Tradition and Change
I converted to evangelicalism as a teenager convinced I was leaving error for truth. I left Catholicism because so many practices seemed unbiblical and its traditions of repetitious liturgy seemed to lack life. Evangelicalism, I was sure, would be different. Evangelicals trusted the Bible, the Word of God rather than the traditions of men. How could evangelicalism go wrong with that foundation?
My college years cured me of that confidence. I discovered that evangelicals had their own unexamined traditions, entrenched leaders, and gaps between profession and practice. For a season, I became an angry young man convinced that reform to “fix” the last generation’s errors was the answer. Replacing dead traditions with my “better informed” practices would bring spiritual health back to the church.
I was not entirely wrong, but I missed the mark by a wider margin than I realized. I had to learn that tradition and change are not enemies, but two goods in permanent tension with each other. Wisdom is not choosing one over the other but learning how to hold both in tension.
The traditionalist in me said “Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever”. I felt our evangelical churches had moved away from biblical traditions in our previous reforms. “Good change” meant returning to biblical traditions—doing things exactly the way the Bible prescribes.
That sounds like faithfulness to God’s Word—a good thing. But I found it difficult to put that principle into practice consistently. Should we have a church building (the apostles didn’t) or did we need to sell our building and meet in home or a rented hall, as early Christians did in Acts? The apostles didn’t use pianos or organs or hymnals, pulpits or overhead projectors or offering baskets? Could we? What about head coverings or jewelry or braided hair for women (1 Corinthians 11; 1 Peter 3.3-4)? Did we have to do everything the way it was done in the first century?
In sermon preparation I discovered that first century synagogues preached first (and the preacher sat to speak) and then closed with congregational songs of praise. I decided to follow biblical tradition and sat down, preached the sermon, and then closed the service with several hymns. The immediate response of our people was: “Don’t EVER do that AGAIN!”. The change was too extreme and too uncomfortable.
Going back to the Bible was not as simple a proposition as I had thought. Though God Himself never changes, He never hesitated to adapt His dealings to ever-changing humanity and its customs!
I would need to rethink my understanding of both tradition and change. Both are necessary. Deciding when to use which, and how to do so, is the real challenge.
My college years cured me of that confidence. I discovered that evangelicals had their own unexamined traditions, entrenched leaders, and gaps between profession and practice. For a season, I became an angry young man convinced that reform to “fix” the last generation’s errors was the answer. Replacing dead traditions with my “better informed” practices would bring spiritual health back to the church.
I was not entirely wrong, but I missed the mark by a wider margin than I realized. I had to learn that tradition and change are not enemies, but two goods in permanent tension with each other. Wisdom is not choosing one over the other but learning how to hold both in tension.
The traditionalist in me said “Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever”. I felt our evangelical churches had moved away from biblical traditions in our previous reforms. “Good change” meant returning to biblical traditions—doing things exactly the way the Bible prescribes.
That sounds like faithfulness to God’s Word—a good thing. But I found it difficult to put that principle into practice consistently. Should we have a church building (the apostles didn’t) or did we need to sell our building and meet in home or a rented hall, as early Christians did in Acts? The apostles didn’t use pianos or organs or hymnals, pulpits or overhead projectors or offering baskets? Could we? What about head coverings or jewelry or braided hair for women (1 Corinthians 11; 1 Peter 3.3-4)? Did we have to do everything the way it was done in the first century?
In sermon preparation I discovered that first century synagogues preached first (and the preacher sat to speak) and then closed with congregational songs of praise. I decided to follow biblical tradition and sat down, preached the sermon, and then closed the service with several hymns. The immediate response of our people was: “Don’t EVER do that AGAIN!”. The change was too extreme and too uncomfortable.
Going back to the Bible was not as simple a proposition as I had thought. Though God Himself never changes, He never hesitated to adapt His dealings to ever-changing humanity and its customs!
I would need to rethink my understanding of both tradition and change. Both are necessary. Deciding when to use which, and how to do so, is the real challenge.