Tradition: Democracy for the Dead, Hope for the Living
How many of yall have seen or are familiar with the musical Fiddler on the Roof?
(Sing first lines of “Tradition”)
I love that musical. The story of a small, closely-knit, Jewish village navigating their rapidly changing and perilous world. At the heart of the musical is this undercurrent of a question – Will our traditions sustain us?
Tradition…how does that word sound to you? I imagine for some of us that word offers us a kind of peace, stability, assurance. For others it might be the opposite, we might hear that word and cringe – we think of something fixed, sterile, cold and distant – and there might be others still that it’s even more complex as it’s some kind of combination of the two. It can be a heavy word…it can come with a lot of baggage.
G.K. Chesterton, articulating the gift of tradition, once penned,
Tradition is only democracy extended through time…Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. Tradition is the democracy of the dead.
I love that for two reasons:
1) The idea of honoring those ancestors who went before us.
2) For those of us whose ancestors were not given the right to vote in their time, whose voices were silenced…we can listen to them now. We need to listen to them now. As they can inform and even transform our traditions.
A democracy for the dead.
“Jesus,” the Pharisees asked, “why don’t your disciples live according to the traditions of the elders and wash their hands before eating?”
Here we go again – the Pharisees and others trying to back Jesus into a corner, trying to get him on some moralistic technicality…and it was important to them, this washing thing. It was a big deal. So big, in fact, that they organized their lives around this and other holiness codes so they could live before others in this continual state of ritual purity. This tradition was a way they stood out and above others and they condemned those who did not adhere to their level of purity and their understanding of the scriptures.
And we all do this on some level – every religion, every expression, every denomination – somewhere in our speech or lurking in the corner of our minds is this thought, “Our way is better. We got it right.” And then we “other” people, right? “If only those other people, if only those other churches, those other denominations…did what we did…”
But here in our gospel story this morning, these Pharisaic traditions, these holiness codes, had taken that way of thinking to a much more damaging level as they were used to condemn and alienate people from family and community and in some instances even used as a vehicle for economic exploitation of the poorest of the poor.
So, when Jesus hears this question – he knows it’s way more about all that and less about the particularity of a specific action one does before dinner. And in response to the Pharisees appealing to their tradition – rooted in power and privilege, Jesus responds by appealing to the democracy of the dead…and invokes the voices of the prophets of old.
Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites…these people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. In vain do they worship me, teaching human traditions as doctrines.
Then he calls the people to gather around him and says, “It’s not about what goes into you that’s defiling, it’s about what comes out of you…it’s about your heart.” Again, you hear in his words the conjuring of those prophetic voices. Voices like:
Amos: I despise your festivals and your solemn assemblies…let justice roll down like waters and righteousness an ever flowing stream.
Hosea: For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
Isaiah: Wash your insides of evil, learn to do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.
Micha: He has told you, O mortal, what is good and what the Lord requires of you – do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly before your God.
Because if our traditions aren’t leading us to that way of life, if our traditions aren’t placing us in a loving and humble posture before God and other people…it’s time to rethink what we’re doing.
I’ve been listening to a podcast the past few weeks called The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill. For those of you who don’t know, Mars Hill grew to be one of the largest and most influential churches in the country until it’s collapse in 2014. It fascinates me because from the age of 19 until I walked into an Episcopal church in my mid-twenties, the Mars Hill influence was all around me. At conferences, in local churches, in my reading, in conversations with friends…it was everywhere this Mars Hill brand, theology, and teaching.
It’s undeniable that at first, Mars Hill Church transformed lives and created community but over time as it grew and grew it became a kind of machine and the leadership revolved around a pastor who expected utter loyalty without accountability and complete adherence to his teaching, which over time became increasingly misogynistic, homophobic, and spiritually abusive. Yet, he remained a coveted speaker at ministry conferences, a best selling author, and continued to receive accolades from pastors all over the nation. Why? Because the American Church is really good at sacrificing integrity on the altar of success.
Mars Hill, using scriptural proof-texting and the language of covenant, expected their members to follow their traditions. They, of course, didn’t call them that because they were astute marketers…but that’s what they were…traditions. Marriage has got to look like this (if not you’re out) Parenting has go to look like this (if not you’re out) Membership has got to look like this (if not you’re out) Tithing has got to look like this (if not you’re out). And if you ask questions, if you challenge the leadership in any way – you were labeled a heretic and shunned. And churches across the country imitated and followed it every step of the way and some still do. Leaving behind them a wake of abused, alienated, and traumatized people.
Which shows us, whether it be in the first century or the twenty first century. Tradition can be a democracy for the dead or a tyranny for the living.
Over the past year I’ve been here I and our other clergy have heard the stories of people who have been wounded by that kind of tyranny, if not abused by the Church. In my personal life, I’ve gotten a front row seat to that kind of pain. So, if you’re a visitor this morning and that’s you…I’m sorry. We know how incredibly hurtful that can be.
The Episcopal Church is not a perfect denomination and St. Andrew’s is not a perfect church, we are a beloved community filled with imperfect people. And we do not have all the answers. Church is not like that Jerry Maguire movie where we stand in front of the Church like Tom Cruise in front of Renee Zellweger saying, “You complete me.” Church does not complete us, and I believe any church that takes that kind of posturing ceases to be the Church and fashions of itself an idol. Because only God completes us.
But I can say this without hesitation, you will be loved here, and we will walk with you on this grace filled journey we call faith. And yes, we have our traditions – but they are not heavy loads tied to our backs. These traditions of ours, we participate in them so we may be shaped more and more into the image of Christ and be filled with God’s love for all. Without exception.
For us, they are not only the democracy of the dead but lead us to the One who is the hope for the living.
Amen.