The account of the first Passover is a typical, indeed, perhaps the ultimate type for the institution of a religious tradition, one which remains the most important for Jews, and the basis, albeit much altered, of perhaps most essential Christian tradition, the Eucharist.
Tradition, and its counterpart, remembrance, are essential aspects of most religions. By tradition we identify ourselves and know who we are and where we are. It does this first by securing continuity, both in time and space, as it were historically and geographically. By tradition we link ourselves to those who have gone before by remembering their experience and equally we see ourselves as one with people elsewhere however dispersed they may be. Jews have observed the Passover rituals ever since that first Passover, and they know that those rituals in essentially the same form will be observed in the middle of the month of Nisam all over the world wherever a Jewish family is to be found. This observance and communal memeoryis one of the things, and one of the most important, that makes Jews what they are.
The Eucharist is central to most of the varieties of Christianty, not perhaps quite as essential as Baptism, but all the main Christian groups and even people who are only vaguely Christian, attend or feel that they should attend a service every Sunday which for all its differences is more or less recognizable as the same Eucharist which we celebrate here. It is this feeling of familiarity- we are indeed part of one family- that brings the sense of identity and belonging.
It not just a cosy feeling; tradition too is the means by which essential truth is, literally passed down; the idea that this truth might be safeguarded by such means as an apostolic succession seems to me pretty absurd. But there is a place for authority in dogma based on respect for the past and it important that in struggling with religious ideas one should feel part of a continuous process evolving and adapting but still joined by a thin but strong thread to it origins.
Respect for tradition carries, however, serious dangers; ritual, for example, quickly becomes arcane, the preserve of the experts in a mumbo jumbo removed from reality and experience. The familiar complexity is, again, a sort of cosiness, a shield and a womb like refuge from the nasty world outside. Tradition tends to resent innovation, although it is clear that the traditions which survive other than as empty shells- a ballet without music – are those which do adapt and rework old ideas welcoming change as they welcome new blood into the family.
Tradition too can be an excuse for elitism and exclusivity as we close the door against the cold draught of the new and the starnger.
Most perniciously, tradition may be an excuse for intellectual laziness, even cowardice; the thinking has all been done long ago so don’t bother to think for yourself, rely on the authority of the ages and certainly don’t dare to challenge what your elders and betters have worked out.
I see the distinction between a lively and meaningful tradition and lifeless rules and ritual reflected in the Old and New Testaments.
There is a comfortable stillness about the Old Testament world view. The world is created and completed in 6 days; evolution has happened. The relations of God and man are set in a covenant which while it is frequently broken is never really questioned; the Law is, literally, set in stone and while the story of the Chosen People is, to say the least, eventful, their destiny is never in doubt. It is this solidity that allows the Jews to be so conscious of their identity and tradition. It’s very noticeable how events and ideas repeat themselves and how traditions are established by divine dictat. The Jews’ tradition and identity, their communal memory and their belonging to each other and to a place had been set down by an immoveable divine decree.
The Gospels tell a different story; a prominent theme in Jesus’ teaching is the emphasis on substance not form; he criticises the Law- and lawyers- for their obsession with rules and avoidance of a more fundamental morality based on love. The Law and tradition do not go far enough and ritual is worthless without genuine inner transformation.
The incarnation introduces a dynamism into the world and into God’s relations with it. There are, of course, miracles and other instances of God intervening in his creation in the Old Testament-but they are isolated; Jesus intervention is as God incarnate, not the working of one of the prophets. His interventions bring salvation to those whom he touches; there is a sense of finality or arrival about them as the blind see and understand and those imprisoned by disability or disease are set free. These miracles are, however, only a foretaste of the radical change and new creation to be brought about by the Resurrection. We see some of this new order predicted in the topsy turvy world of the Beatitudes. Crucially, the world is no longer a creation separate from God, but God is within the world active though the Spirit and present in the Church. As an active force the Church and the Spirit are necessarily innovative. The new Passover of the Eucharist is despite all the efforts of churchmen to the contrary, constantly adapting and developing full of new meaning and significance, as we should expect of God’s presence in the world.
I have never really left school, and early September still feels like the New Year to me. It’s a good time for self examination, especially institutional self examination and in this institution, in this Parish, we shall continue to think about how we can grow, not, I hope just in numbers but in faith, understanding and practice too. In doing so we should, I suggest seek to make sure that our traditions are lively and dynamic; true expressions of the Gospel we proclaim. Amen.