Tradition
Tradition
The word “tradition” comes from the Latin term traditio, which means “handing over,” “handing down,” or “handing on.” According to the French Dominican theologian Yves Congar (1904–95), the technical term “tradition” was originally used in Roman legal documents, where it signified the transfer of property from a donor to a beneficiary. When the term began to be used by Christian theologians, it came to mean a “handing over” of something precious and important – the “deposit of faith,” or the gospel itself.
Figure 6.3 The preaching of St. Paul as depicted by Raphael (1515–16).
Source: © The Royal Collection, HM The Queen / Victoria and Albert Museum, London.
The idea of tradition is found in the New Testament. Paul, for example, informs his readers that he is handing on to them those core teachings of the Christian faith that he has himself received from other people (1 Corinthians 15: 1–4). The term can refer both to the action of passing teachings on to others – something that Paul insists must be done within the church – and to the body of teachings passed on in this manner. Tradition can thus be understood as a process of transmission as well as a body of teaching. The pastoral epistles (three later New Testament letters that are particularly concerned with questions of church structure and the passing on of Christian teaching: 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus) in particular stress the importance of “guarding the good deposit which was entrusted to you” (2 Timothy 1: 14).
If any controversy served to emphasize the importance of tradition, it was the Gnostic debates of the second century. Faced with repeated assertions from his Gnostic critics that he had misrepresented the Bible, Irenaeus of Lyons (c.130–c.202) argued that they had simply chosen to interpret the Bible according to their own taste. What had been handed down within the church, and within the church alone, was not merely the biblical texts but a certain way of reading and understanding those texts.
Everyone who wishes to perceive the truth should consider the apostolic tradition, which has been made known in every church in the entire world. We are able to number those who are bishops appointed by the apostles, and their successors in the churches to the present day, who taught and knew nothing of such things as these people imagine.
Irenaeus's point is that a continuous stream of Christian teaching, life, and interpretation can be traced from the time of the apostles to his own period. The church is able to point to those who have maintained its specific way of reading and interpreting the Bible, and to certain public standard creeds which set out the main lines of Christian belief. This, he argues, contrasts with the secret and mystical teaching of the Gnostics, which is not available for public inspection and which cannot be traced back to the apostles themselves. Tradition is thus the guarantor of faithfulness to the original apostolic teaching, a safeguard against the innovations and misrepresentations of biblical texts on the part of the Gnostics.
This point was further developed in the early fifth century by Vincent of Lérins (died c.445), who was concerned that certain doctrinal innovations were being introduced without adequate reason. Vincent was especially troubled by some of Augustine's views on predestination, which he regarded as unwise and hasty improvisations. There was a need to have public standards by which such doctrines could be judged. So what standard was available by which the church could be safeguarded from such errors? For Vincent, the answer was clear – tradition:
On account of the number and variety of errors, there is a need for someone to lay down a rule for the interpretation of the prophets and the apostles in such a way that is directed by the rule of the catholic church. Now in the catholic church itself the greatest care is taken that we hold that which has been believed everywhere, always, and by all people. This is what is truly and properly catholic. This is clear from the force of the word and reason, which understands everything universally. We shall follow “universality” in this way, if we acknowledge this one faith to be true, which the entire church confesses throughout the world. We affirm “antiquity” if we in no way depart from those understandings which it is clear that the greater saints and our fathers proclaimed. And we follow “consensus” if in this antiquity we follow all (or certainly nearly all) the definitions of the bishops and masters.
This threefold criterion – universality, antiquity, and consensus – has come to be known as the “Vincentian canon,” and has been of considerable importance in ecumenical discussions in recent years.
Yet this approach to tradition was vulnerable at certain points. For example, it seemed to suggest that “tradition” was a purely static notion – the views of the past, which the present was bound to repeat. Concern over this view became apparent within some Catholic circles during the nineteenth century. Of particular interest are the views of Johann Adam Möhler (1796–1838; also spelled “Moehler”), the founder of the Catholic Tübingen school. In his much-read Symbolism, published in 1832, Möhler set out an understanding of tradition as a living voice within the church, by which the Christian community's interpretation of Scripture is safeguarded from error:
Tradition is the living Word, perpetuated in the hearts of believers. To this sense, as the general sense, the interpretation of Holy Writ is entrusted. The declaration, which it pronounces on any controverted subject, is the judgment of the Church; and, therefore, the Church is judge in matters of faith. Tradition, in the objective sense, is the general faith of the Church through all ages, manifested by outward historical testimonies; in this sense, tradition is usually termed the norm, the standard of Scriptural interpretation – the rule of faith.
It will be clear that Möhler understands tradition to have both subjective and objective aspects. The objective sense corresponds roughly to Vincent's notion of doctrinal consensus – that is, to “the general faith of the Church through all ages, manifested by outward historical testimonies.” Yet the subjective element prevents this from becoming a mere process of ecclesiastical fossilization. Tradition is something living and dynamic.
This issue remains important. In the twentieth century, a concerted effort was made within both the Catholic and Orthodox churches to distinguish “tradition” from “traditionalism.” The latter is understood as a slavish and wooden adherence to the doctrinal or moral formulations of the past, whereas the former is understood as the living faithfulness of the church to the faith which it expresses. This approach may be discerned within the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1994), which draws attention to the close connection between Scripture and tradition:
In keeping with the Lord's command, the Gospel was handed on in two ways:
– orally, by the apostles who handed on, by the spoken word of their preaching, by the example they gave, by the institutions they established, what they themselves had received – whether from the lips of Christ, from his way of life and his works, or whether they had learned it at the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
– in writing, by those apostles and other men associated with the apostles who, under the inspiration of the same Holy Spirit, committed the message of salvation to writing.
In order that the full and living Gospel might always be preserved in the Church, the apostles left bishops as their successors. They gave them their own position of teaching authority. Indeed, the apostolic teaching, which is expressed in a special way in the inspired books, was to be preserved in a continuous line of succession until the end of time. This living transmission, accomplished in the Holy Spirit, is called Tradition, since it is distinct from Sacred Scripture, though closely connected to it. Through Tradition, the Church, in her doctrine, life, and worship perpetuates and transmits to every generation all that she herself is, all that she believes. [...]
The Father's self-communication made through his Word in the Holy Spirit remains present and active in the Church.
Note the emphasis that is placed here upon the role of the church as a living organism, which passes down the content of the faith, based in Scripture, to each generation. “Tradition” is thus understood as a living and active process of passing on the Christian faith, rather than as a static source of revelation, independent of Scripture. It is “the living river that unites us to our origins” (Pope Benedict XVI).
A similar emphasis can be found in the writings of leading Orthodox theologians, such as John Meyendorff (1926–92). In his influential work Living Tradition (1978), Meyendorff stressed that tradition is not to be understood as an accumulated body of propositional truths, which simply repeats the insights of the past:
True tradition is always a living tradition. It changes while remaining always the same. It changes because it faces different situations, not because its essential content is modified. This content is not an abstract proposition; it is the living Christ Himself, who said, “I am the Truth.”
It will thus be clear that the word “tradition” implies not merely something that is handed down but an active process of reflection by which theological or spiritual insights are valued, assessed, and transmitted from one generation to another. Three broad approaches to tradition may be detected within Christian theology and will be considered in what follows.
A Single-Source Theory of Tradition
In response to various controversies within the early church, especially the threat from Gnosticism, a “traditional” method of understanding certain passages of Scripture began to develop. Second-century patristic theologians such as Irenaeus of Lyons began to develop the idea of an authorized way of interpreting certain texts of Scripture which he argued went back to the time of the apostles themselves. Scripture could not be allowed to be interpreted in any arbitrary or self-serving way: it had to be interpreted within the context of the historical continuity of the Christian church. The parameters of its interpretation were historically fixed and “given.” “Tradition” here means simply “a traditional way of interpreting Scripture within the community of faith.” This is a single-source theory of theology: theology is based upon Scripture, and “tradition” refers to a “traditional way of interpreting Scripture.”
The mainstream Reformation adopted this approach, insisting that traditional interpretations of Scripture – such as the doctrine of the Trinity or the practice of infant baptism – could be retained, provided they could be shown to be consistent with Scripture. On the basis of this observation, it will be clear that it is incorrect to suggest that the magisterial reformers elevated private judgment above the corporate judgment of the church, or that they descended into some form of individualism. This is, however, unquestionably true of the radical Reformation (see below).
A Dual-Source Theory of Tradition
In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, there developed a somewhat different understanding of tradition from that noted above. “Tradition” was understood to be a separate and distinct source of revelation, in addition to Scripture. Scripture, it was argued, was silent on a number of points, but God had providentially arranged for a second source of revelation to supplement this deficiency: a stream of unwritten tradition, going back to the apostles themselves. This tradition was passed down from one generation to another within the church. This is a dual-source theory of tradition: tradition is based upon two quite distinct sources, Scripture and unwritten tradition.
A belief which is not to be found explicitly stated in Scripture may thus, on the basis of this dual-source theory, be justified by an appeal to an unwritten tradition. This position was defended strongly at the Council of Trent, which was charged with stating and defending the Catholic position against the threat posed by the Reformation. Trent ruled that Scripture could not be regarded as the only source of revelation. The Council therefore argued that Scripture and tradition alike were to be regarded as inspired by the same Holy Spirit, and safeguarded and handed down by the same Catholic church:
This truth and discipline are contained in the written books, and the unwritten traditions which, received by the apostles from the mouth of Christ himself, or from the apostles themselves, the Holy Spirit dictating, have come down to us, transmitted as it were from hand to hand; following the examples of the orthodox Fathers, [the church] receives and venerates with an equal affection of piety, and reverence, all the books both of the Old and of the New Testament – seeing that the one God is the author of both – as also the said traditions, whether these relate to faith or to morals, as having been dictated, either by Christ's own word of mouth, or by the Holy Spirit, and preserved in the Catholic Church by a continuous succession.
The Second Vatican Council (1962–5) subtly modified this approach, understanding “tradition” as a “traditional interpretation of Scripture,” discussed earlier. It also noted that there is a “growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down” as a result of reflection, as “the Church constantly moves forward toward the fullness of divine truth until the words of God reach their complete fulfillment in her.”
The two approaches just discussed affirm the value of tradition. A third approach, which in effect rejects tradition, came to be influential within the radical wing of the Reformation, often known as “Anabaptism,” and subsequently was developed by writers sympathetic to the Enlightenment.
The Total Rejection of Tradition
For certain radical theologians of the sixteenth century, such as Thomas Müntzer (1489–1525) and Caspar Schwenkfeld (1490–1561), every individual had the right to interpret Scripture as he or she pleased, subject to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. For the radical Sebastian Franck (1499–1543), the Bible “is a book sealed with seven seals which none can open unless he has the key of David, which is the illumination of the Spirit.” The way was thus opened for individualism, with the private judgment of the individual raised above the corporate judgment of the church. Thus, the radicals rejected the practice of infant baptism (to which the magisterial Reformation remained committed) as unbiblical. (There is no explicit reference to the practice in the New Testament.)
Similarly, doctrines such as the Trinity and the divinity of Christ were rejected as resting upon inadequate scriptural foundations. The radicals had no place whatsoever for tradition. As Sebastian Franck wrote in 1530: “Foolish Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, Gregory, of whom not one even knew the Lord, so help me God, nor was sent by God to teach. Rather, they were all apostles of Antichrist.”
This approach was developed further during the Enlightenment, which was anxious to liberate itself from the shackles of tradition. Political emancipation from the oppression of the past (a key theme of the French Revolution) meant a total abandoning of the political, social, and religious ideas of the past. One of the reasons why Enlightenment thinkers placed such a high value upon human reason was that it relieved them of the need to appeal to tradition for ideas; any ideas worth knowing about were accessible to reason alone.
A respect for tradition was thus seen as capitulation to the authority of the past, a self-imposed bondage to outdated social, political, and religious structures. “Modern thought was born in a crisis of authority, took shape in flight from authority, and aspired from the start to autonomy from all traditional influence whatsoever” (Jeffrey Stout). Or, as the philosopher of science Michael Polanyi (1891–1976) put it:
We were warned that a host of unproven beliefs were instilled in us from earliest childhood. That religious dogma, the authority of the ancients, the teaching of the schools, the maxims of the nursery, all were united to a body of tradition which we tended to accept merely because these beliefs had been previously held by others, who wanted us to embrace them in our turn.
The Enlightenment thus represented a radical rejection of tradition. Reason required no supplementation by voices from the past. The waning of the influence of the Enlightenment in recent decades has been an important factor in encouraging the emergence of a new interest in and respect for tradition in Christian theology.
Theology and Worship: The Importance of Liturgical Tradition
One of the most important elements of the Christian tradition is fixed forms of worship, usually known as “liturgy.” In recent years, there has been a rediscovery of the fact that Christian theologians pray and worship, and that this devotional context shapes their theological reflections. This point has been appreciated since the first centuries of the Christian church. The Latin tag lex orandi, lex credendi, which could be translated roughly as “the way you pray determines what you believe,” expresses the fact that theology and worship interact with each other. What Christians believe affects the manner in which they pray and worship; the manner in which Christians pray and worship affects what they believe.
Two controversies within the early church, centering on Gnosticism and Arianism, illustrate the importance of this point particularly well. On the basis of their radical dualism between the “physical” and the “spiritual,” the Gnostics argued that matter was inherently evil. In refuting this position, Irenaeus pointed to the fact that bread, wine, and water were used in the Christian sacraments. How could these materials be evil, if they were given so prominent a position in Christian worship?
Arius (c.260–c.336) argued that Christ was supreme among God's creatures. His opponents, such as Athanasius (c.293–373), retorted that this Christology was totally inconsistent with the way in which Christians worshiped. Athanasius stressed the theological importance of the practice of praying to Christ and worshiping him. If Arius was right, Christians were guilty of idolatry, through worshiping a creature, rather than God. Where Arius believed that theology should criticize liturgy, Athanasius believed that worship patterns and practices had to be taken into account by theologians.
In recent times, there has been renewed interest in the relationship between liturgy and theology. In his Doxology (1980), the Methodist writer Geoffrey Wainwright (born 1939) drew attention to the way in which theological motifs were incorporated into Christian worship from the earliest of times. The liturgy of the church includes intellectual elements and is not purely emotive in character. As a result, the close relationship between theology and liturgy, noted above, is entirely natural, in that worship and theological reflection are linked together organically.
In his On Liturgical Theology (1984), the Catholic theologian Aidan Kavanagh (1929–2006) argued that worship was the primary source and stimulus of Christian theology. Kavanagh drew a sharp distinction between “primary theology” (worship) and “secondary theology” (theological reflection). This suggests that worship has the upper hand over theology. But what happens if liturgical development becomes irresponsible? Does theology have a role in limiting or criticizing liturgy? This question of the relative authority of the lex orandi and lex credendi remains to be further explored, and is likely to be the subject of debate for some time to come.