Evangelicals rely on Scripture alone.
Secularists rely on Reason alone.
Episcopalians pay attention to both,
and we also
have a third leg on the stool – Tradition.
Our Old Testament story is about tradition.
Elijah had had one heckuva life.
He’d done some pretty dramatic stuff.
But now his earthly race was run, so he said to his
disciple, Elisha,
“So long buddy, I’m off to
Bethel.”
But Elisha hung on to his teacher and went with him to
Bethel.
Elijah then said, “Adios, Elisha. It was nice knowing you.
I’m going over Jordan.”
But Elisha said “Not so fast I’m going with you.”
Finally Elijah said, “Goodbye Elisha I’m off to heaven.
Anything I can
do for you before I go?”
Elisha answered, “Give me the power to keep on doing
what you’ve
been doing -- only more of it.”
Elijah said, “Only if you can follow me into heaven with
your eyes.”
When the chariot swung low comin’ for to carry Elijah home,
Elisha watched
him until he was out of sight.
Then Elisha tore off his own clothes and put on Elijah’s
mantle.
For those who have seen the 1982 film classic Barbarossa,
it’s the same
thing Gary Busey does to become Willie Nelson.
If you haven’t seen Barbarossa, just skip this sermon and
watch it. Point made.
With that mantle came prophetic power.
Earlier in the story, on their way to Elijah’s point of
departure,
they had to
cross the Jordan River.
Elijah had struck the water with his mantle
and it parted
for him as the Red Sea parted for Moses,
and as this very Jordan River
had parted for Joshua
when he took over the
leadership of Israel.
With Elijah gone, Elisha headed back the way they came.
When he got to the Jordan, he did the same thing.
He struck the water with his mantle, and the waters parted
as they had done for Elijah,
Joshua, and Moses before him.
Elisha was carrying on a tradition stretching back over the
centuries,
from his teacher Elijah all the
way to Joshua and Moses.
Elisha had followed his teacher as far as he could go.
When his teacher was gone, Elisha tore up his own clothes,
his own
identity, and put on the mantle of Elijah and continued his work.
That’s tradition.
Americans are not so fond of Tradition. Take Thomas
Jefferson.
He was all about Reason but he had no use for Tradition.
He insisted the world belongs to the present generation.
No law, no constitution, no form of government should last
over 20 years.
Jefferson worshiped at the Church of What’s Happening Now.
He tore up the mantle of his ancestors to put on his own
clothes.
Jefferson and Elisha represent two opposite attitudes.
Native cultures are our best example we have of Elijah’s
way.
Native Americans honor their traditions.
They hold their ancestors in reverence.
They respect the elders of the tribe.
Anglo-Americans treat our elders as burdens to be
warehoused.
We are certain that the wisdom of today
is to be
preferred over the benighted ways of our forbears.
We don’t want to be burdened by yesterday. “Yesterday’s
done.”
We do not expect future generations to pay any attention to
us.
The Church of What’s Happening now
acknowledges
no debt to the people who got us here
and no duties
to those who will come after us.
“Imagine all the people living for today.”
“Imagine all the people living for today.”
We want to wear our own clothes, the ones in fashion this
year
– not
some dusty mantle from an old guy like Elijah.
It’s popular these days, even among some Episcopal leaders,
to junk the
Tradition.
Sell the churches, meet in bowling alleys, and make up a
ritual
if we feel so
inclined at the moment.
The ritual we make up will express
what we think,
what we feel – something we like –
nothing that
might make us uncomfortable.
There was a time I’d have said “sign me up” for that.
But there came a point when I was not so sure of myself
anymore.
I wasn’t positive that my opinions were better than the
teachings
of ancient spiritual masters,
or that my
feelings were nobler than those of the saints.
And I had children to think of.
When I began to feel a responsibility for the next
generation
I
simultaneously felt a responsibility to the past generations.
That’s when I became an Episcopalian.
That’s when I began to tear up my own clothes
and put on the
mantle of Elijah.
I didn’t shut down my mind.
Reason is still one of our sources of authority.
We still think. We still feel.
But if there is a conflict between my opinions
and the teachings of the
Church,
I seriously
consider the remote possibility
that I
might be wrong.
Sometimes I love the
Tradition. Sometimes I hate it.
But it’s always there for me to learn from,
sometimes by
arguing with it.
For example, I have never been comfortable with the Nicene
Creed.
But I keep saying it and that makes me look hard at what it
means.
One year, a particular line offends me to the core.
The next year, I have found a new meaning for that line
and I love it.
But by then, another line bothers me.
I don’t say the Creed because I’m comfortable with it.
I say it because I’m uncomfortable with it. It makes me
think.
Sacred Tradition is essential to our spirituality,
right along
with Reason and the Holy Scriptures.
This chasuble we wear represents Elijah’s mantle. It is a
symbol of Tradition.
Apostolic Succession, having bishops made by bishops in a
chain
of inheritance
going back to the apostles
is a
symbol of Tradition.
But it takes some caution.
We all know that Scriptures can be used for good or ill.
Our Reason can be used or misused.
It’s the same with Tradition.
It can guide us into the future or it can trap us in the
past.
The key is to recognize the difference between Sacred
Tradition
and a stodgy
lack of imagination.
Sacred Tradition is about our core values – the stuff that
makes us who we are.
It isn’t about singing one style of music instead of
another;
or whether we
use an organ or guitars.
It isn’t about whether we use the 1928 Prayer Book or the
1979 Prayer Book.
It’s about having a Book of Common Prayer,
so that we
pray in the way of the church
instead of
what each of us makes up to suit ourselves.
Sacred Tradition connects us to our power source.
Elijah passed onto Elisha a mantle of
prophetic power.
Jesus passed on to the disciples the power to
heal
and proclaim
good news.
The Tradition is a power source.
It has sustaining power to get us through the
day.
When life hits us in the face and we have no
words f
or how we feel
or what we want,
the
Tradition has prayers for us,
“Surely it is God who saves me.
I will trust in
him and not be afraid.”
The Tradition has transforming power to open
up a new future.
It gives us this prayer,
“Let
the whole world see and know that
things
which were cast down are being raised up,
and
that things which had grown old are being made new,
and
that all things are being brought to their perfection. . . .”
The Tradition isn’t stodgy or nostalgic.
It’s dynamic, unfolding, challenging us
to become more
than we are.
Our Tradition is written in poems and
prayers.
It is recorded as stories of the saints.
We act it out in ancient rituals.
The poems, the prayers, the stories, the
rituals
have
all been sanctified by holy lives of Christians.
By that sanctity the Tradition is charged
with power
like
Elijah’s mantle.
