Holy Tradition

Wherefore I write boldly to your love, which is worthy of God, and exhort you to have but one faith, and one preaching, and one Eucharist. For there is one flesh of the Lord Jesus Christ; and His blood which was shed for us is one; one loaf also is broken to all, and one cup is distributed among them all; there is but one altar for the whole Church, and one bishop, with the presbytery and deacons, my fellow-servants. Since, also, there is but one unbegotten Being, God, even the Father; and one only-begotten Son, God, the Word and man; and one Comforter, the Spirit of truth; and also one preaching, and one faith, and one baptism; and one Church which the holy apostles established from one end of the earth to the other by the blood of Christ, and by their own sweat and toil; it behooves you also, therefore, as “a peculiar people, and a holy nation,” to perform all things with harmony in Christ.

St Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Philadelphians, 4.1

                

 I saw Ignatius today. That is what I considered titling this blog when I wrote my first draft. Another option that occurred to me was, “How a Pentecostal girl turns Anglican.” Under the circumstances I figured that would draw more negative attention than convey the true essence of which I intended to write.  

Thanksgiving approaches, and with it an entire season of celebration and the implementation of tradition. The concept of tradition carries a variety of connotations and emotions for people. I realized several years ago that I had few traditions with which to mark events in my life. This Thanksgiving I am reminded once more of the reality of this tendency. It is certainly not for lack of want. It is simply the byproduct of a mobile lifestyle. Growing up in a foreign culture on the mission field was not conducive to the installation of tradition. In fact, I recall rarely making a big deal of Thanksgiving since it was not a Brazilian holiday. We commemorated the occasion amongst our small community of fellow missionaries, but the season was not surrounded by the corporal atmosphere of nationalistic pride which characterizes its celebration in the United States.

                

 Each year I listen to friends describe their plans and hopes for the holiday season, always including some form of tradition. “We all get together and play football” or “We eat this food” and “We meet at this place.” I recall at one point having family traditions. One year we came home to California on furlough and spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. I loved every minute of it. We gorged on a magnificent spread of food, ate more pumpkin pie than I care to admit, watched football, and my favorite – cribbage tournaments. I can still hear the rhythm of the count, 15-2, 15-4, a pair for 6 and nobs is 7! Everyone was involved; card tables abounded. The echoes of many of those voices have faded away. Grandparents have passed on, aunts and uncles drifted apart; cousins and siblings carry on their own lives and travel different paths. I long for the connection of tradition and the foundation and stability it profers, the esoteric link to the past and the lineage of generations. Certainly I do not loathe the familial solitude of my upbringing, but now as an adult, I recognize the validity and importance of tradition.

                

 I believe the same can be said of the Holy Traditions of the Church. Tradition offers to us a unique understanding of our heritage in the Church and an inseverable link to centuries of existence. I grew up Pentecostal, Foursquare to be exact. We did not profess much tradition in the form of liturgy or prayer. We were a young denomination, comparatively speaking. Founded in the 1920’s by Aimee Semple McPherson, we were considered new and fresh – a Holy Spirit breathed movement of the 20^th century. We were one of many such denominations emerging during that era. We, along with many of our sister movements, brought a refreshing breeze to Christendom and to the Church. We were instruments of infusing power to a developing core. But as is the nature of many new traditions, we did not receive the acceptance of our family, nor did we strive to maintain ties to the established traditions that would foster the longevity of a 2000 year old influence in the world. Over time, we drifted apart.

                 

This last year I have been exploring the Anglican Church. At first I kept my distance, observing her movements and patterns from afar. As time progressed and I slowly grew enamored with her mind and mannerisms, I felt comfortable getting closer. Many stereotypes dissolved in the wake of my exploration. Such notions as, liturgy is dead, the Spirit cannot move in this format, there is no sincerity in prayer, and the like plagued my uninformed perception of this tradition. What I witnessed left me truly astounded. There is charisma, and not just the docile, pleasant sort. There are prophecies. There are tongues and interpretations. There are words of wisdom and knowledge. There is faithfulness of the brethren, the miraculous, and healing – so much healing; and not just the physical kind. There is healing of minds and souls alike. I am amazed at the connection between my formative expressions of faith and those of this much older tradition, and I am fulfilled.

                

Sometimes I feel that my affinity for holistic thought is a curse. Some may not think it quite a curse, but it is indeed a curse when you posses an inclination to step back and see the interconnectivity in the body of Christ and the deep, profound impact the various expressions and tasks of the members perform for one another, all the while hostile and ignorant of each other’s similarity and unity. I see the Anglican tradition and her connectivity to the past, through liturgy, prayer, and longevity as the heart of Christendom. Yet what is the heart, without the lungs that give it renewed life? I see the Holiness and Pentecostal movements of the last two centuries as being the lungs of the body. We are so interdependent, yet strive for independence as we neglect the function we serve for one another. 

As I gaze at the development of the Church over the centuries I cannot help but see a correlation derived from the development of human life. We begin so small, so seemingly insignificant, fighting for life, and cleaving to the womb for sustenance. The explosive nature of the early Church which defied all logic closely parallels the rapid cell division following conception. After this the brain and nervous system begin the journey to maturation. We see this process in the early and middle ages as philosophers and theologians flexed their intellectual capabilities in support of the life of the Church. The last phase in the development of fetal growth is that of the lungs as they prepare for aspiration. And aspire, we did. But as with all first aspirations of life, there was fear and initial outcry as we fought to explore this renewed air we did not understand. As we have moved through the course of the last century, we have adapted well to that air which we breathe – the very Holy Spirit and the gifts He imparts to us.

In writing this, I do not mean to discount other sects of the Christian faith. I only focus on these two as a means to depict their interworking effects on one another in the body. I am excited for the implications of this new phase of life in the Church. However, we must be cautious not to forget the road we have traveled and the men and women who have contributed to our development in the installation of these Holy Traditions we still possess today. Just as our holiday traditions give us stability and connectivity to past generations, so also does Holy Tradition provide the same in our family of believers. Often we do not even realize the absence of this connection until we are exposed to it or see it in the lives of others. I have experienced the artistry of tradition and relish its presence in my spiritual walk and the unity it forges with generations passed.  The Eastern Orthodox Church has a beautiful articulation of the dimensions of time through which we transcend in tradition.

“It is an act that appears to be within time (and surely is so in the normal sense of the word) but is more truly an experience that has moved the believers outside time, into the continuous present, that dominion over time which the Lord’s presidency over his church’s worship effects and constitutes within history; thereby transcending it. To this extent, the generation of present believers is one with the generation of first believers. As we celebrate [Holy Traditions] in the 21^st century of the world’s history, a door opens, in an upper room in an inn within a village called Emmaus…When the faithful receive the mysteries, they have entered beyond time and space into a communion with the Lord of history, one which is the prelude and prefigurement of their future union in Paradise.” [1]   

                 

As we enter this season that abounds with tradition – the type of tradition that sets us apart, instills deep roots and foundational truths concerning our identity – may we also cherish deeply the Holy Traditions of the Church that unite us throughout the ages into one body. Through the expression of tradition may we transcend time to stand alongside our fathers in the faith, forever linked in the Spirit at the foot of the cross.  Today I saw Ignatius, Theresa, Augustine, Gregory and a multitude of others who stood in God’s presence uttering similar sentiments in prayer:

           Almighty Father, whose blessed Son before his passion prayed for his disciples that they might be one, even as thou and he are one; Grant that thy Church, being bound together in love and obedience to thee, may be united in one body by the one Spirit, that the world may believe in him whom thou didst send, the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.[2]

           O Almighty God, who by the Holy Spirit hast made us one with thy saints in heaven and on earth: Grant that in our earthly pilgrimage we may ever be supported by this fellowship of love and prayer, and may know ourselves to be surrounded by their witness to thy power and mercy. We ask this for the sake of Jesus Christ, in whom all our intercessions are acceptable through the Spirit, and who liveth and reigneth for ever and ever. Amen.[3]

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[1] John Anthony McGuckin, The Orthodox Church, (Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing, Ltd, 2008).

[2] The Book of Common Prayer (New York: Seabury Press, 1979), 204.

[3] Ibid., 199.