When somebody refers to a church that “never changes,” that adheres to “ancient tradition,” we picture one that requires strict adherence to correct forms and behavior—sort of like people who reenact historic battles, but this time wearing Byzantine outfits. The motivation might be fear of the new, and fixation on the old simply because it is old. The desired result would be something like a museum diorama.
But think instead about what “unchanging” and “tradition” mean in a family—say, Christmas traditions. Every family that celebrates Christmas has its own traditions. In one family, everyone knows that it’s the angel, not the star, that goes on top of the tree. They know that everyone must wear one of Great-Grandma’s homemade scarves to the midnight church service.
They know that you can open one, and only one, present on Christmas Eve. At Christmas dinner, they know to set the table with the now-faded red and green napkins.
But they also know that it doesn’t matter who gets what color. If Grandpa had a red one last year and gets a green one now, no one would even notice. An outsider might say, “Aha! You broke your tradition!” But those inside the family know, instinctively it seems, how to handle variations. There’s not only a tradition; there’s a tradition about the tradition. You couldn’t figure it out by looking from the outside. You’d think they were always breaking their own rules. But those who are inside a community learn by living, it seems, where tradition is stretchy and where it is not.
That’s the kind of tradition people follow willingly. It’s not a dead tradition, but a living, life-giving tradition. It can be called “living” even though it doesn’t change. In fact, its unchanging quality is somehow part of its strength, as those alive today link arms with all who went before.
Christmas traditions aren’t maintained for the sake of tradition, but for the sake of the family. Traditions are kept because they do something. They foster love and joy, and bind people together. Family members don’t complain that a Christmas tradition is old-fashioned, or that it’s the same thing they did last year. Old, familiar traditions seem fresh and lively, because they renew the family’s life.
Imagine that a member of this family wanted to add a new tradition—say, that on Christmas Eve they’d all watch the movie A Christmas Story together. That new tradition might fit right into the old, overarching tradition. It wouldn’t feel like it was challenging or revising that tradition, but like an enhancement, a bonus.
But now imagine that, after a few years, people have had more than enough of A Christmas Story. They start coming late to the Christmas gathering just so they don’t have to watch it again. That new tradition failed; it didn’t pass the test of generating life and joy. A custom could slide into, then out of, a family’s Christmas traditions without much fanfare either way. […]
When something new is added to the toolbox, it has to prove itself; it must be shown effective in the transformation process. […]
You’ll sometimes hear it said that there are big-T Traditions that are observed everywhere, and little-t traditions that are more flexible. That is sometimes a useful distinction, but not always, I think; the gradations can be so much more subtle than that, and there are also times when people disagree about whether something is a big or small T.
Such disagreements don’t always have to be resolved. Sometimes we can just wait them out, while the healing mission of the Church continues unimpeded.