I once attended a small town, rural, high school production of Fiddler on the Roof, an experience I fully expected from the start I’d regret later.  I do not like musicals, partly because of the wishy-washy, sometimes dramatic, sometimes operatic nature of the thing, and partly because the music is often irritatingly catchy, yet void of any depth or value.  Of course, when put on by a high school the point really has less to do with the artistic production, and more to do with kids going out on a limb, and parents being proud of them for it; but nevertheless I had every expectation I would happily forget the entire experience immediately.

For the most part, that’s what happened, but one of these kids, while not musically or dramatically gifted, had a startling level of confidence and charisma that made it obvious why he’d landed the lead role, a Russian Jew at the turn of the 20^th century named Tevye, around whom the plot revolves.  This kid surprised me, and so his first big song, “Tradition,” stuck with me.  From what I gather (mercifully, that day was the only time I’ve ever seen Fiddler on the Roof), the story involves Tevye doing his best to live by the traditions passed down by previous generations, during a tumultuous period of radical—often violent—social and cultural change; and this song, extolling the virtues of tradition, sets the stage for the struggle that follows.

Back in the real world, this same struggle is often seen, almost always between the older generation and the younger, in which the elders appeal to their own authority as elders to bring the whippersnappers in line, and the kids scoff at the old timers and their outdated ideas, resisting their guidance.  There’s usually fault on both sides, and there’s also value on both sides.

Tradition, or Commandment?

Jesus himself had to deal with this conflict during his time on earth.  One of my favorite examples of this is found in chapter 7 of Mark’s Gospel.  Here, the Pharisees and scribes notice a breach of etiquette among Christ’s disciples, and without a shred of self-awareness, ask him in v5, “Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” Mark has already primed us to see the problem in their notion of authority, pointing out rather deliberately that this group included scribes (v1), i.e. experts in the Law of Moses, and twice calling their scruples tradition, while attempting to demonstrate how ridiculous these traditions had become, before the scribes and Pharisees themselves appeal to “the tradition of the elders.”

But on the other hand, it would be difficult to argue that washing before eating is a bad thing; nor should they have ignored everything their elders told them—the Bible itself teaches the younger to treat those who are older with deference and respect, for example in 1Pe 5.5 and 1Ti 5.1.  We can see the wisdom in this when we examine our own traditions—we have many of them passed down to us from previous generations, and by and large, while they are not commandments of God, they are wise conclusions, sage advice, and good practices to safeguard against many different threats.  

Yet, the circumstances do not always lend themselves to the keeping of even wise traditions.  Jesus defended his disciples on this account a handful of times, and his approach reflects even greater wisdom than the traditions of the elders—he doesn’t catalog extenuating circumstances, appeal to a vague smell-test, or get bogged down in the fine details of when a person’s responsibility is to keep the tradition or not.  Instead, he simply calls out the accusers’ hypocrisy, and highlights the difference between tradition and commandment—a comparison which does not reflect well on the self-important authoritarians.

And he said to them, “Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written, ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’ You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.”

        And he said to them, “You have a fine way of rejecting the commandment of God in order to establish your tradition! For Moses said, ‘Honor your father and your mother’; and, ‘Whoever reviles father or mother must surely die.’ But you say, ‘If a man tells his father or his mother, “Whatever you would have gained from me is Corban”’ (that is, given to God)—then you no longer permit him to do anything for his father or mother, thus making void the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And many such things you do.” (Mk 7.6-13)

Today, we might call this deflecting, or even “what-about-ism,” but he makes a good point!  It’s not just that these scribes and Pharisees don’t abide by their own standard, it’s that they have the wrong standard!  Jesus’ reply carefully avoids saying, “your traditions don’t matter,” because that’s not really the case; it’s just that they are traditions, and traditions, however good, ought not to be considered binding; the Word of God, however, ought not to be ignored!

Today

This is an important lesson for all of us to understand and implement: live by what God says, and then pay attention to the collective, inherited wisdom, too—but remember that only one of these is authoritative.  It was important when Jesus walked the earth in the flesh, it was important a year ago, and it’ll be important next year and forever, until the Lord returns.  But we are in a position of having to deal with a major upheaval of our traditions, right now, and we’d do well to heed Jesus’ words in all of our decision-making.

With this unprecedented pandemic response, we all are stuck with some counterintuitive wisdom, like “don’t go to work,” “don’t have in-person interactions if at all possible,” and “don’t go to church.”  Understandably, many people are chafing under these new norms—we all should!  We’re left, seemingly, trying to juggle the commandment to love the Lord, and the commandment to love our neighbors, when they may appear to be irreconcilable.  Of course, this is not the first time Christians have faced such a quandary.  The New Testament is filled with examples of such, we just usually don’t think about them in those terms.  Acts 6, 10, and 15 all record instances where Christians—Apostles, no less!—struggled to one degree or another with this balance, and it’s not until a solution is found, in each case, that it becomes clear, there really is no conflict between the two commandments, after all.

As we all wrestle through this frustrating and seemingly unending attempt to preserve lives and avoid enabling or contributing to our neighbors’ suffering, let’s keep in mind that stopgaps, substitutes, and solutions to the current problem can, and must, be found without rejecting God’s commandments.  They won’t often adhere to “the tradition of the elders,” though.  That’s ok, considering the circumstances; but we should all look forward to a time when we can again make use of the wisdom passed down to us from previous generations.  “Do not move the ancient landmark that your fathers have set” (Pr 22.28).

Jeremy Nettles