Traditions, Traditions

Human beings have a love-hate relationship with their traditions.

On the one hand, we cling to and depend on the feelings of permanence and familiarity that they give us in an all-too-volatile and uncertain world.

On the other hand, if you are like me, you often find yourself impatient, resentful, pinched and chafed by the inflexibility of the burden that traditions lay upon us.

Traditions connected to family are a case in point that crops up on our radar screens at least once or twice a year. The rose-tinted glasses side of me looks forward to the idea of gathering all the kinfolk around the old homestead and catching up with all the far-flung goings-on that have taken place since we last got together to feast and play games and watch TV. But then...when the glasses get smudged by the catty remarks and the one-upsmanship and the brotherly advice that feels more like a kick in the groin...

...at that point, we might long for a tradition that requires us to skip a year. Or two or three.

Traditions can often feel as if they are carved in stone like the Ten Commandments:

THOU SHALT VERILY SHOW UP WITH THY JELLO SALAD IN HAND

YEA, THOU SHALT NOT MENTION THY SISTER'S DISAGREEMENT OF 1988

REMEMBER WHO DESPISETH WHOM AND TO WHAT DEGREE

ETC.

 

But then again, many family traditions are totally flexible, to the point of not having any structure at all when reunions take place, and having the whole group's agenda determined by whose opinions are the loudest, or whose physical ailments take precedence, or whose preferences as to activities give in the soonest due to strain and/or exhaustion.

 

I suspect that the traditions we feel most at ease with are those handed down to us by people whose character or memory is most loved and respected. If I was treated lovingly by a parent or grandparent who passed on their legacy of traditional practices to my generation, I would tend to honor those practices and continue them myself. After all, why mess with success? It worked for them in their day, why go to the trouble of reinventing the wheel?

 

And there lies one of the major tensions that come with traditions. More and more in our progressive culture, the traditions of the past have been and will continue to be challenged by the younger whippersnappers who come along. And traditions will undergo a definite shift: sometimes merely uncomfortable...all too often with the force of a pair of crash-cart paddles.

 

Think of the practice of church attendance as an example. Not very many decades ago, most businesses closed up shop on Sundays, not so much out of devotional piety, but because most all the consumers those businesses relied on were busy with non-commercial activities like dressing up and singing hymns and listening to sermons and eating large family meals together and taking naps.

 

In our day, the vast majority of people I work with might visit a place of worship for a wedding, a funeral or an occasional holiday...if at all. Sunday traditions for them have more to do with tailgate parties, big-screen TVs or fantasy sports leagues than the holy Trinity. There has been a definite shift in cultural traditions that has affected at least half the people you rub shoulders with every day.

 

The fragile thing about traditions is that, even if they are the glue holding a society together--think Tevye doing his "Tradition" dance down the street in Fiddler on the Roof--the individualistic desires and preferences of people can and do change according to the winds of the prevailing culture. For Tevye, the crisis came when his daughters began to insist on choosing their own mates rather than relying on fathers and matchmakers to get them hitched. Love of the incidental sweetheart began to trump their respect for and love of tradition.

 

What tradition-bound people too often forget is that the more a practice is based on simple repetition and longevity, rather than rooted in truth, goodness and beauty, the less likely that that practice will endure through the times and tides of cultural shift. Tevye was finally pushed to the limit when his third daughter insisted on marrying a husband outside of her faith. For him, this was unthinkable and nearly caused him to permanently disown the daughter.

 

The question he--and the audience--was left with in the play was: is this requirement to disown his own flesh and blood a requirement of his faith...or only one of tradition?

 

Traditions can comfort us...they can guide us...they can anchor and often annoy us. But only our beliefs rooted in truth and moral absolutes can bind our consciences to the point of no return.

 

Enjoy your traditions if you can...but find your faith in One far higher, deeper, eternal.

 

Blessings!