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December 5 Romans 15:4-13

Many of us understand or at least many of us experience strong traditions. My

name is the reflection of a relatively strong and not uncommon tradition. My father is

Lorne David. My grandfather was David D. My great-grandfather was David J. And

scattered further back in the looser history of my family are other Davids. I felt this

tradition. At Christmas time we begin to enter into traditions again in expressions and

acts of when, how and with whom we gather. Over time churches quickly form traditions

of how life is expressed through various forms of worship and lifestyles. The traditions

are concrete practices of how we communicate, how we dress ourselves, how we behave.

Most of these things are not spelled clearly out but they are felt when we gather. And so

at home with our families, with our friends and neighbours and here at church many of us

daily and annually practice traditions, gatherings and expressions that seem to reflect

something of the core or identity of who we are. Many of us inherit and inhabit strong

traditions.

As I have continued to sit with Paul and his letter to the Romans this Advent a

clarifying perspective or actually paradox on tradition is emerging. The season of Advent

and Christmas and also of Lent and Easter often mark the times of strongest and of most

concrete traditions as expressed in the Church. Each church draws on its own history as

well as the broader denominational histories of how our ancestors understood and

practiced these seasons. These traditions provide comfort, security and joy for many

people as we anticipate Advent and Christmas knowing what the season will bring.

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However, the irony or paradox that I am finding in the book of Romans is leading me to

think that Advent and Christmas is actually a time in which the church and Christians

should be radically calling their traditions into question. Let me begin to unpack this

thinking by starting with my own tradition that I alluded to.

From an early age I understood that I was the last of the David Driedgers that

came from my great-grandfather’s line and more than that I was also the last male

Driedger from my grandfather’s line. How did I know this at a young age? Good

question. And I can’t clearly answer it. How do traditions begin and how are they

perpetuated? Small acts; little comments; subtle pressures; and so forth. In any event, at

a certain point I remember actually feeling some pressure, some burden of carrying on

‘the family name’. And all this was probably before I was a teenager. No one directly

forced this burden on me but it came and I felt it nonetheless.

As Chantal and I grew closer to having our own child I began to revisit this

tradition in a new and more pressing way. At one point I assumed I would include David

at least as a middle name. But then things began to get caught up in the machinery of this

tradition. Sand was beginning to grind in the cogs that kept it going. Questions arose.

What about the women who did not carry the Driedger name? What of all the other men

and women in my family whose names are lost or fading? What is so important about

this name? What is this name really connecting to or perpetuating? It dawned on me on

how unjustly and almost violently this tradition was working on me.

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This tradition made me feel as though I had a privileged position simply by what I was

named at birth. This privileged position, in turn, worked to exclude or at least diminish

the value of others around me and also before me. I came to see that this tradition was

not constructive, in fact I believe it became harmful.

Now before I get any further I should be clear that I don’t think we can live

without tradition. Tradition, as I understand it, simply names and describes patterns that

emerge from any social settings. So, the question is not whether we accept or reject

tradition as such but rather in how we are able to interpret and engage and carry our

traditions.

As I worked through my own experience I was reminded of another Advent story,

that of the forerunner of Jesus, John the Baptist. Remember how he was named. John’s

father Zechariah was rendered mute when he questioned the angel Gabriel how he and his

wife Elizabeth could bear a child in their old age and that they should name him John.

When the child was born and they named him John the people around were initially

critical, seemingly upset, saying that they had no relatives with that name. Zechariah and

Elizabeth were not following tradition. But this child came and instituted a break from

the practiced tradition so that a path could be cleared for God’s coming.

If there is one thing we as Gentiles should be keenly aware of during Advent it is

that something pretty decisive broke within the practiced tradition of Judaism at that time

so that the purposes of God’s Kingdom could be enlarged to further the work of peace

and reconciliation in the world. To the extent that Judaism would remain a localized,

ethnic and politically defined expression it would be difficult to fulfill God’s vision for

the world.

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And so at Advent we must remember again our previous status as outsiders and

foreigners. We must learn to embody the ones cast under shadows and darkness as the

insiders gather around the light of their tradition. We are the ones with no family lines

and histories of faith. We bear no family name that means anything for the work of God.

We who believe in the necessity of defending and promoting the meaning of Christmas

are first and foremost the gracious recipients of this event who had no claim to it.

Paul spends significant time trying to teach the church in Rome about their

adoption into the Kingdom of God. The Gentiles have been grafted unnaturally into the

line of God’s people. The Gentiles are not the natural branches, but we were of a

different kind. So what does this call us to? Where does this lead us? We must, for a

time, dim down and put out the lights of our own traditions. We must sit again in the

darkness outside of privilege and status so that we can see clearly where the light comes

from. Perhaps we will see that light continues to glow from the places of our old

traditions. Surely there are many godly expressions and practices that we should

maintain, nurture and grow. But just as certainly we will need to see over our shoulder

the glow other places, coming form something different and beyond our experience.

In chapter 14 leading up to our reading Paul tries to diffuse the tension created

over disputable matters. Paul tries to help the church navigate seemingly conflicting

traditions. So you celebrate each day the same and your neighbour sets apart one day as

a sacred . . . so what? each of you does so to the glory of God. So you love to sing

technical pieces of music while your neighbour seems to let go with great enthusiasm . . .

so what? each of you does so to the glory of God. So you like to wear a suit when you

come to church and your neighbour values coming casually . . . so what? each of you

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does so to the glory of God. And so in the midst of disputes over traditions that are

distracting from the work of God’s Kingdom Paul says wisely, Whatever you believe

about these things keep between yourself and God.

The point is that traditions are always tempted to become centres of power for

those who adhere to them. They become a stablizing presence but this sort of stability

comes at the cost of those who do not and sometimes cannot conform to particular

traditions. So as we encounter our reading this morning Paul shifts gears. He moves

away from the divisive issues and traditions that the church is facing and says, We who

are able are indebted to bear the weaknesses of those who are unable. I think this comes

close to the fundamental point of how our faith informs and shapes our tradition. To the

extent that we have been granted means and abilities in our lives and traditions they are

called and indebted to lift up and bear with the weaknesses of those without the same

abilities.

Paul is drawing on this sort of thinking to explain why the Gentiles have become

full participants in God’s Kingdom and then how Gentiles can keep from losing sight of

that reality. The people of Israel since the time of Abraham were always meant to be a

blessing to all people, this was their tradition. The people of God were always called to

share their gifts, this tradition, with the world. And so we enter into the ongoing

exchange of opening our strengths for the sake of the weak. This is the pivotal move in

our faith. We open and share our strengths. In so doing we become vulnerable, even

weak in the eyes of the world. And finally in this weaknesses we can encounter the

strength and power of God. Both Jesus and Paul are relentless in this perspective.

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The Kingdom of God is the site which is ever opening itself to the weaknesses being born

around and within us so that strength of God might emerge. We are called to a weak

tradition. A tradition that does not try to secure and preserve itself but exists for offering

itself and in doing so doing also becomes open for receiving.

And so as Paul moves along verse seven rings out to accept, to embrace, to

welcome one another, just as Christ accepted, embraced and welcomed you and then he

adds in order to bring praise to God. Then Paul goes on, I tell you that Christ became a

servant of the Jewish people, of this tradition, on behalf of God’s truth to establish the

promises made to the patriarchs. Christ embodied a weak tradition to crack open a

strong on in order to establish what God has been promising all along through writings of

the Old Testament which is the redemption of the world and the unified worship of God.

So as many of you know my son does not have David as any of his names. This

is no magical act or guarantee of his being free from harmful traditions. We exist in a

perpetual temptation to secure and perpetuate traditions to the exclusion of others.

Advent does not call us to eliminate traditions but to consider a weak tradition that loses

interest in its own defence but opens itself to encounter the strong and weak of this world.

Praise God that you have been grafted into this tradition. May God grant you new eyes to

see how your traditions and our church traditions can embrace and bear with the world

around us. May these traditions be weak enough to allow our Messiah to inhabit and

transform them to fulfill the promise of blessing to the world.

Amen.

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