Chapter I
THE TRADITION OF THE ELDERS
Tradition, in some religious circleswith which we are well acquainted, is not esteemed as a good word. Especially when it is set alongside Holy Writ, it is apt to be disparaged as “mere” tradition. Certain biblical expressions spring readily to the minds and lips of those who thus disparage it: “the tradition of the elders . . . the tradition of men . . . making void the word of God through your tradition” (Mark 7:4, 8, 13; cf. Col. 2:8). Our Lord’s repudiation of rabbinical tradition, the Reformers’ repudiation of ecclesiastical tradition, are felt to provide supporting precedent for the view that tradition is something to be repudiated.
Yet the word is used in other and more noble ways. In my schooldays in Scotland we had a headmaster (or rector, to give him his official title) who, at the beginning of each school year, addressed the new boys and girls and impressed upon them that they had come to “a school with traditions”. Its history, he informed them, could be traced back to the thirteenth century, although he probably did not wish them to suppose that the traditions of which he spoke were as ancient as all that. In fact, before his coming to the school it had forgotten most of the traditions it ever had, and while he did what he could to revive them, I suspect that some were not so muchrevived ascreated by him—and were none the worse for that. After all, a tradition must begin sometime and somewhere.
So too in ecclesiastical life a local or national church or a denomination builds up its traditions over the years and generations and becomes so attached to them that it is very reluctant to abandon or modify them, even in the interests of a larger and more comprehensive unity. It is not that it sets its traditions up as rivals to Holy Scripture, although at times they may present an obstacle to the free advance of the Spirit. The traditions that are most tenaciously cherished are often concerned more with practice than with doctrine. In one scheme of union of which I have some knowledge, between two denominations of the Reformation order, there have arisen no complicated questions of doctrine like the maintenance of apostolic succession or the essentiality of the historic episcopate—that especially awkward impediment in the path of unity. In fact no theological problem has held up progress. But when the negotiators got down to the brass tacks of temporalities and practicalities, they found that it was here that the hitches developed. Not that these are likely to prove insuperable barriers, but people feel strongly about them, because they are the elements in their particular “tradition” of which they are most directly aware. They may not even use the word “tradition” in this connection, but it is tradition that is involved when people say “This is what we have always done” or “This is what we were always taught”.
One does from time to time meet churches or individual Christians who profess a pure biblicism and deny that they have any tradition or traditions apart from what is written. But a pure biblicism is rarely so pure as it is thought to be. Let these friends be confronted with an interpretation of Scripture which is new to them, held (it may be) by others but unknown in their own circle, and they will suddenly realize that what they had always taken to be the plain sense of Scripture is really their traditional interpretation. Other people have different traditional interpretations, and the criteria for preferring one interpretation to another must be sought not in the antiquity of the traditions or in the warmth with which they are held but in a careful study of the principles of biblical interpretation and an exegetical examination of the relevant texts.9
On the crucial role of biblical interpretation in Christian traditi