Jimmy Beh

When I say the word Tradition, what comes to mind?

• Religion? Beliefs?
• Cultural celebrations?
• Family gatherings?
• Stories, Myths Legends?
• Institutions?
• Ideas?

All of these can be correct, of course, and often traditions will encapsulate more than one of these. Tradition, defined in a general way, is a set of customs or beliefs that are passed down from one generation to the next. However, the standard definition of a concept and our understanding of it can be two very different things. Growing up, the word tradition had a very negative connotation for me. It usually symbolized restrictions or rules rather than things like the Día de Los Muertos celebration or democracy. 

Despite my adolescent distrust of tradition, I no longer see it as a bad thing. In the same way Pope Francis writes that we, as humans, are not above or separate from nature, we are also not above or separate from Tradition. We are deeply connected to the stories, events, cultures, rituals, ideas, desires, dreams, sufferings, and joys that have preceded us. Indeed, they are a vital part of who we are today and what our world is today. 

I think one of the reasons Tradition gets such a bad rap is because we often experience Traditionalism disguised as Tradition. Michael Himes does a wonderful job of articulating this difference in his book, The Mystery of Faith, where he says; “the real meaning of tradition is not a story of how nothing has changed but a story of movement and change and growth and development.” He goes on to quote the theologian Jaroslav Pelikan who said “Tradition is the living faith of the dead, traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.” Tradition, then, is more like a family than a set of rules. Of course, there are rules and boundaries, but they are not really the point. The point is this shared and dynamic sense of belonging that helps us understand who we are and where we come from. And this provides us with a foundation that encourages us to contribute to this larger community by the way we live our life. 

Perhaps this sounds overly romantic, and maybe it is slightly. But I would argue we can tap int this shared sense of Tradition in everyday life, if we are open to it. Take for example, looking up at the moon. What happens? Do we just exclaim, ‘Damn, that thing is huge!’ Or, maybe we take a moment and wonder what it must have been like for those few humans who stood on the moon or floated in a space station and were able to look back at earth. Or, maybe, we find ourselves reflecting about how for millions of years humans have looked up at the moon from this same planet and pondered deep questions of meaning. St. Francis of Assisi looked at this moon, so did St. Clare, Albert Einstein, Marcus Aurelias, Anne Frank, Plato, Cleopatra, The Buddha, Maya Angelou, Galileo, and Jesus! 

It is overwhelming at times to realize how simple actions in our day to day lives connect us to a deeper shared history. It is also a marvelous freedom to know we may be asking the same questions and looking at the same moon, but we are able to respond in our own unique ways. Adding a new note to the symphony. 

However, before we find ourselves reflecting on our more creation based or cosmic connections, we might find a deeper sense of connection with our more immediate traditions. These might be the cultural traditions that we know through our family, our faith traditions through our church community, or our country’s traditions. Things that we are more used to calling my traditions than our traditions. There is nothing wrong here, so long as we do not hold the illusion that our traditions are static beliefs and practices that are meant to be held in isolation. 

The image that comes to mind is a forest– its beauty being its diversity. Indeed, there are certain species or families of trees, shrubs, bushes, animals and insects, and we can study and group these together for our own categorization, but these groupings are not what make the forest beautiful. The way they come together and form an environment is their beauty, and how that environment is life giving. The sum is greater than the parts, but each part is important and vital to the sum. 

So let us continue to tell the stories of our family and ancestors, let us continue making our cultural foods, let us continue speaking different languages, let us continue wrestling with our different faiths, and let us realize that it is in these differences that we all partake in a much larger Tradition and Mystery. 

In my own faith tradition, the larger Tradition and Mystery at the center of all is what Catholics call the Trinity. Greg Boyle speaks of this when he talks about “the circle of compassion,” and Richard Rohr talks about this when he describes the Trinity as a “divine dance where God is not the dancer but the dance itself.” 

I pray as our world seems ever more divided and tribal that we can find the vulnerability to enter this dance with one another. Not to categorize or assimilate, but to celebrate our differences and find connection in the larger Tradition and Mystery at the center of all. 

Perhaps it is important for each of us to reflect on what we are doing to invite others into this dance—and how we can do so without violating their personhood and traditions?