Posts
We are studying Colossians in our Sunday School…er…Connection Group class, and last Sunday, our inspired and annointed leader was talking about traditions, practices, or rituals that could mislead us and take our focus from Christ, and (all it takes is one word to start me on that rabbit chase!) I began musing tradition. I hurt my brain searching for something in my personal life that was a tradition, ritual, or habit that hindered my walk with Jesus. I began thinking about traditions, in general, that are deceptive.
In the church Paul addressed at Colossae, slowly and deftly they began to believe in the doctrine of salvation by Jesus+. Jesus plus the right religious feast. Jesus plus the New Moon Festival, Jesus plus Sabbath Day--the right ritual was just as important as the right Savior. Paul would have nothing to do with this. If we are saved, it is because God rescued us, and not because we learned the walk. God does the saving and we do the receiving. All we do is accept, and "take up our cross daily."
For many of us, our "tradition" is an addiction, a past hurt that holds us captive, or sick behavior that convinces us that we have control. We don't realize how insidious these "traditions" are, yet if we were to experience just one day completely free of those traditional behaviors, we'd realize how much closer is our walk with the Savior. And so it goes with unusual rituals and new-age wisdom--if these put your mind in a mess, don't be troubled. Try not to be a victim of "before I knew it, I was caught up in it." Ask yourself, "Why?" and consult the scriptures. Keep your focus on Christ through prayer, reading of His word, and reliable Christian fellowship. If you are not sure that something is from the Spirit, tread softly. Back off. Use the Bible as a guide. If they are of the Lord, those unidentified inner promptings won't contradict anything biblically.
Here is a funny story about family tradition—you’ve probably read it a gazillion times, but worth revisiting.
The Easter Ham
The youngest, and most newly-married daughter was excited to be preparing her first Easter dinner for the combined families. She called her mother, as backup, to be sure she was baking the ham correctly. Her mother informed her to be "sure to cut three inches from the ham before you roast it."
Puzzled, the daughter asked her mother "Why?"
"Because that's the way my mother taught me to do it," says mom. "I'm not sure of the reason."
Still not convinced, the daughter calls her grandmother. "Nana," she asked, "Mama says I must cut three inches off of my ham before I bake it. Why is that?"
"Well, sweetie, I'm not sure, but that's how my mother taught me to do it, and I've always done it that way," replied Nana.
The daughter felt a mystery needed solving, and being young, still questioned authenticity (or authority, perhaps, haha), and called her great grandmother. "Nona," she asked, "Nana says you taught her to cut three inches off of the ham before putting it in the oven. Why is that necessary, I wonder?"
"Well dear," Nona replied, "When I was a new bride, just starting out, I baked my first ham for Easter dinner. The ham was 18 inches long. The largest roasting pan I had was 15 inches long, so I had to cut three inches off of the ham to make it fit in the pan."
And so it goes, from generation to generation, until someone asks "Why?"
In the church Paul addressed at Colossae, slowly and deftly they began to believe in the doctrine of salvation by Jesus+. Jesus plus the right religious feast. Jesus plus the New Moon Festival, Jesus plus Sabbath Day--the right ritual was just as important as the right Savior. Paul would have nothing to do with this. If we are saved, it is because God rescued us, and not because we learned the walk. God does the saving and we do the receiving. All we do is accept, and "take up our cross daily."
For many of us, our "tradition" is an addiction, a past hurt that holds us captive, or sick behavior that convinces us that we have control. We don't realize how insidious these "traditions" are, yet if we were to experience just one day completely free of those traditional behaviors, we'd realize how much closer is our walk with the Savior. And so it goes with unusual rituals and new-age wisdom--if these put your mind in a mess, don't be troubled. Try not to be a victim of "before I knew it, I was caught up in it." Ask yourself, "Why?" and consult the scriptures. Keep your focus on Christ through prayer, reading of His word, and reliable Christian fellowship. If you are not sure that something is from the Spirit, tread softly. Back off. Use the Bible as a guide. If they are of the Lord, those unidentified inner promptings won't contradict anything biblically.
Here is a funny story about family tradition—you’ve probably read it a gazillion times, but worth revisiting.
The Easter Ham
The youngest, and most newly-married daughter was excited to be preparing her first Easter dinner for the combined families. She called her mother, as backup, to be sure she was baking the ham correctly. Her mother informed her to be "sure to cut three inches from the ham before you roast it."
Puzzled, the daughter asked her mother "Why?"
"Because that's the way my mother taught me to do it," says mom. "I'm not sure of the reason."
Still not convinced, the daughter calls her grandmother. "Nana," she asked, "Mama says I must cut three inches off of my ham before I bake it. Why is that?"
"Well, sweetie, I'm not sure, but that's how my mother taught me to do it, and I've always done it that way," replied Nana.
The daughter felt a mystery needed solving, and being young, still questioned authenticity (or authority, perhaps, haha), and called her great grandmother. "Nona," she asked, "Nana says you taught her to cut three inches off of the ham before putting it in the oven. Why is that necessary, I wonder?"
"Well dear," Nona replied, "When I was a new bride, just starting out, I baked my first ham for Easter dinner. The ham was 18 inches long. The largest roasting pan I had was 15 inches long, so I had to cut three inches off of the ham to make it fit in the pan."
And so it goes, from generation to generation, until someone asks "Why?"
