Why I am not a traditionalist

I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.

It is not productive for a Christian to preserve external forms of traditions statically, as if these forms had value in themselves. We are different people to our forebears, and therefore our actions should look different. To keep traditions alive requires that they remain continuously in evolution and development, without a stasis that necessarily leads to rupture. If we attach ourselves only to the external forms of the old traditions, these static forms lose the connection to the underlying goodness towards which the tradition is meant to lead. A static traditionalism that values the external forms of traditions for their own sake will not bring us to God.

While I will use the liturgy of the Church as my primary example, these arguments apply generally to static traditionalism. Courtship and débutante balls do not make sense in a world where women move out of the home before marrying. Photo-realistic paintings are not the pinnacle of art in a world with cameras. Calling yourself a gentleman does not make sense in a world where nobility is irrelevant (for more, see the article “Why I’m No Gentleman” by my friend Ryan Hunneshagen). The traditions of our society should certainly inform our actions (cf. Newmanian development - the topic of a future essay) but the external forms of tradition cannot remain static.

Wilhelm Gause, Ball der Stadt Wien (1904).

The world has changed

We are not the same people as our forebears, and the context that we live in has evolved. Even if we share their beliefs, e.g., the faith, our actions must look different to theirs. Charles Taylor talks about this evolution in his book A Secular Age, pointing out that all modern Catholics in the developed world know atheists, Protestants, and Jews. Even if we hold Christianity to be true, we must admit that some intelligent people do not find this self-evidently so. This was not usually the case for mediaeval Christians. The unquestioning faith that was possible for mediaevals, then, is no longer open to us. We must intellectually engage with our faith, with apologetics and catechesis, and move away from a Christianity that relies on mere ritual participation and an assumed self-evidentiality of the underlying truth.

Some will say that ritual participation is what maintains the centrality of the faith. After all, after ritual was de-emphasised in the 1960s/70s, those who were less intellectually engaged with the faith left the Church en masse. This does not explain why countries with high development and reliance on universal participation of ritual (Belgium being a prime example) collapsed, while countries with low levels of development and a very de-ritualised faith (Nigeria being a prime example) have flourished. Living in the context of the developed world simply requires a different engagement with the faith than external forms of tradition alone provide.

Static traditions cannot survive

Valuing external forms of traditions for their own sake also requires that these forms remain in stasis. But this prevents the continuous evolution and development that a nourishing and living tradition requires. Pope Benedict XVI, in his 2005 Christmas address, introduced the concept of a “hermeneutic of continuity” (in opposition to a “hermeneutic of rupture” that claimed the church had been reinvented after the Second Vatican Council). He called the Church “a subject which increases in time and develops, yet always remaining the same, the one subject of the journeying People of God.” As with a person, to remain alive, the Church must continuously grow, shedding and absorbing new material, and acting differently in different scenarios.

Those who are in favour of stasis correctly point out that truth does not change, nor does God. However, as Pope Benedict reminds us:

It is only the principles that express the permanent aspect, since they remain as an undercurrent, motivating decisions from within. On the other hand, not so permanent are the practical forms that depend on the historical situation and are therefore subject to change.

The traditional rite of the Mass has been in stasis for 63 years now (and, many would argue, has been devolving for about 110 years). Of course, those who wish to see the tradition remain alive are not the ones who wish to see it remain in stasis. And 63 years is not so long, for the standards of the Church. These rites may still represent appropriate action in the modern world. However, like an old man whose cells cannot regenerate anymore, if it continues to remain unable to develop, it will eventually die. After this long period of stasis, those who value the old traditions must remember the importance of the external forms remaining up-to-date. Stasis is terminal.

Priest celebrating Latin Mass at St Sebastian in Salzburg (photo mine).

Tradition must look past external forms

Traditionalism places the emphasis on external forms of old traditions, but if we attach ourselves only to external forms, we lose focus on the goodness to which the traditions ought to lead. The Catholic faith emphasises the sacraments - which St Augustine defined as “outward signs of inward grace, instituted by Christ for our sanctification.” We have all experienced prayer where the outward signs were present, but the inward grace or sanctification did not take place, often because we were unfocussed on the truth or goodness of the prayer.

Of course, any attempt to pray is good, and a participation in traditional rituals, even if we are unfocussed, does gain us something. But it only provides gain in so far as we inwardly “cooperate with grace.” Far more important than the traditions is the orientation of the soul. A traditionalism that places rites above the orientation of the soul devolves into a “whited sepulchre.” I always find it an eerie feeling to walk into “whited sepulchres,” into churches that are maintained as museums,¹ rather than as active places of worship. We cannot let our souls devolve into the same thing.

Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all uncleanness.

Conclusion

The world we live in now looks different to any world before. This means that our actions ought to look different. If we value traditions for their external forms, they remain in stasis. This prevents them from being the right actions to take in the modern world. It also reduces their sacramentality, their outward connection to inward grace. Our traditions must remain alive and in dialogue with the modern world. This is why I am not a traditionalist.

1. Or, even worse, as Anglican Churches. The horror! Just kidding. Sort of.