Tradition
Tradition.
And yes, that must be mentally read to the Fiddler on the Roof tune.
Recent discussions here brought up the need to respect and submit to the authority of tradition in the church. Those of us in emerging discussion based churches were accused of just being individualists with no higher authority but ourselves. We were asked what church authority we submit to in the faith with the assumption that everyone should be submitting to someone. Such things like liturgy were championed because they are rooted in tradition and hence are often put forth as therefore the appropriate way to do church. This is a discussion popular in the church these days – even in emerging circles. We have Phyllis Tickle saying that the future of the church is in the hyphenateds – traditional denominations that are engaging the emerging conversation. Jim Belcher’s recent book, Deep Church, suggests an alternative to emerging Christianity is to have the church rooted in tradition, specifically the conservative reformed Presbyterian tradition. And Brian McLaren even recently affirmed what Richard Rohr said about the need for Emergents to be rooted in tradition -
It seems to me that the emerging church is emerging because people are finding the ability to have a grateful foot in both camps—one in the Tradition (the mother church) along with another foot inside of a support group that parallels, deepens, broadens, grounds, and personalizes the traditional message. But you don’t throw out the traditional message, or you have to keep rebuilding the infrastructure or creating a superstructure all over again.
I get all that. I see the beauty of tradition. I see the futility in think we are building something from scratch. I don’t think tradition should be scoffed at or rejected. I’m not anti-tradition.
It’s just that none of those are my traditions. I have never been rooted in liturgical practice. I didn’t grow up in denominations with catechisms and standard hymnals and theological tomes that cannot be questioned. I feel no allegiance to Luther, or Calvin, or Barth. I know I am influenced by them and owe my faith to the path they laid, but I’ve never been part of that tribe. I guess I could choose to adopt their tradition as my own just like I could decide that I wanted to become thoroughly culturally Chinese, but at the moment I feel no inclination to become Lutheran (or Chinese).
I know I am part of a great tradition. My faith does not exist in a vacuum – I respect and am grateful for the heritige of my faith. But I get uneasy with the repeated insistence that I must have at least one foot planted firmly in some tradition in order to have a holistic and healthy faith. I am told that I am rejecting tradition in pursuit of an individualistic faith if I do not. But honestly how can I reject something I never had? Those aren’t my tribes. I am just a low-church mutt who has found her place in the emerging conversation.
So given that – the question becomes “is tradition necessary for faith?” Or, can I be a Christian outside of a historic tradition or must I choose to align myself with an established tradition in order to be truly faithful? I know that’s the Catholic and Orthodox stance – but is it the official stance of the Lutherans, or Presbyterians, or Anglicans, or the emerging hyphenateds thereof? Must I choose one of those tribes? Or is there actually room for building new infrastructure and making a tribe out of us fringe immigrants who have no home?
This discussion is often framed as a dichotomy between tradition and rejection thereof – but not all of us fit neatly into those two categories. There needs to be room for us too – even if that requires changing the nature of this whole discussion.
julieclawson(at)gmail(dot)com 
rather than use the word “tradition” as some old social denomination to which a christian community must find its identity, i prefer to think of culturally mediated community. every tradition is far from some monolithic entity with some special revelation of god. traditions are social media and nothing more. they exist to mediate the activity of god in a way useful for the people there. when those traditions are no longer useful, new traditions form. that’s what post-boomers desire more than anything: new traditions formed out of new culturally mediated communities to give shape and contact between the people of god and the presence of god calling them into being.
To me, it’s not a question of tradition or non-tradition; it’s a question of sacraments. I’m unfamiliar with emergent teaching on the sacraments, but I remember from Grace that you’d be the person to ask. Can you give me the run down?
You don’t have a place in any tradition as a low church mutt?
Try growing up and spending you early adult life practicing everything from Transcendental Meditation to past life regression to yoga (in the sense of a spiritual practice, not just exercise) to more traditional Hinduism to many other things as much or maybe even more than anything Christian and then finding yourself somehow ‘Christian’ in your thirties in a typical low church setting and trying to find anything in that context in which you can truly root yourself and your new faith.
BTW, I’ve loved Fiddler on the Roof since I was a child. Saw the movie. Seen it on stage multiple times. And grew up listening and memorizing the songs from the album of the Broadway musical.
Tradition!
Julie, as long as the conversation is between protestants rather than Catholics or Orthodox I don’t see it as a question of whether someone can be a Christian outside of one of the more established traditions, or whether they must align with an established tradition. Yes, one can and no, one doesn’t have to. I think what some are asking though is whether something is lost, or at least risked, if one chooses not to align with or at least listen with deference to, established tradition (writ large, not in every particular).
I think that danger is there to a greater degree the more a person or group tries to reinvent the wheel out of nearly whole cloth and just take the Bible, a few theological ideas and smattering of info about church history and run with them in a 21st century context. But the more they borrow and learn from and give careful consideration to, established traditions (which it sounds like you are open to), even if it’s in kind of a grab-bag, pastiche mode, the less the danger is.
But that’s just my personal opinion, maybe because it’s sort of where I am and would be even more so if I weren’t in an Anglican church. And even here, I’m not fully submitted to Anglicanism the way a Catholic is (supposed to be) fully submitted to the authority of the Catholic church or an Orthodox is supposed to be submitted to the councils and the creeds and church fathers. I don’t primarily think of myself as Anglican, and feel free to disagree. One of the things I like about Anglicanism though, is that it carries both a sense of rootedness and a fair degree of freedom to disagree on a wide range of issues. But I don’t go around telling everyone they need to be Anglican to be good Christians.
I would say tradition can be a beautiful thing, a valid, deep resource for diverse expressions and understandings of faith and a connection to the historical body of Christ that went before us, but like anything, it can be abused, over-emphasized (or de-emphasized in evangelical circles), or used to muzzle the current body of Christ from moving forward or exploring new ways to express and understand our faith. Traditions are stifling only when employed as a short, tight chain bounding us solely to the past, as oppose to being an extending, unfinished fabric, that ties us to our past, but leaves room for those of us in the now to sew on our contributions and move onward.
This subject was dealt with in many of the letters Paul wrote . Their you had the Jewish Traition and the new believers clashing over traditionss and the Law. If nothing elese can be gleaned it is the freedom we have In Christ , but not to the point we use that freedom to injure the faith of another.
I’d echo what Tia said: for me the issue is not whether we value and learn from tradition (I certainly think we should), but whether we hold them as absolutely normative and binding and beyond question. I seem to hear more and more people these days suggesting the latter. (Belcher’s Deep Church leaps to mind.)
Tia so well said.
Having come from a strong tradition (anglican) and moving towards the emerging mut crowd a couple of thoughts. I find that the tradition for me is at times more cultural than spiritual – it invokes memories. I miss it at times because it was formative, but it is not my guiding spiritual authority. I’m sure this well not quell the critics, but t I turn to the community for authority- wisdom- guidance. The authority is interdependent- fresh- fluid. While I miss a great liturgy- I have found community to be a much more challenging form of authority.
In my experience, people who tell me I should be submitting to something are usually people with a stake in the power structure to which I’m told to submit.
I rarely find folks who, out of genuine concern for my well being, tell me to submit to something outside of their control or authority.
Folks usually tell me to submit to something that makes their lives easier if I do. So typically I’m skeptical of the entire enterprise from the start.
Just my experience.
I believe that as along as you do the traditions that God himself has set down, everything is fine. There are plenty of traditions set down by people. Traditions that work for them. If they don’t work for you, then what’s the point?
Our paths are similar in many contexts. I found myself wandering back to the faith in my early 30s after a ten year absence. It might sound odd, but I found the most freeing aspects of the Way visiting a monastery in Vermont. The brothers at Weston Priory live in the context of tradition which has existed since the time of St. Benedict around the year 500. Things are naturally modified to reflect living in (and in service to) the world in the 21st Century. Their community seemed anything but stagnant- which I think is the fear people really face when they utter the word “tradition.” They welcomed my friend and I into their community for a short while, in which we lived with them in the rhythm of prayer and work central to the tenants of the Rule of St. Benedict.
Am I now Catholic? No, of course not. Did they expect me to convert? Absolutely not. They thanked us for joining them if only for a little while, and wished us grace and peace on our spiritual journey. We experienced a mutual learning in community.
It is my understanding that the emerging conversation seeks to elevate the dialogue above “us” and “them,” but the tone of your blog suggests otherwise: “they’re not my tribe” and “I feel no allegiance,” etc. Why should you have to? Instead, celebrate and embrace the myriad of ways God allows us to worship Him- which includes tradition developed through the ages.
Greg – I think that’s exactly what Julie is saying. That we want to celebrate and embrace the good things in various traditions without feeling bound to one tradition or another exclusively.
Well said Lisa. I feel the same way (minus the missing liturgy part – can’t really miss something you never really experienced much in the first place
Drew – I like your idea of tradition. But instead we are so often faced with institutional tradition where little if anything is actually allowed to change and grow.
linds – Since emergent isn’t a denomination, there is no official stance on sacraments. The emerging church is a conversation. When it occurs in Lutheran churches it follows the Lutheran view of sacraments and so forth. When the churches are generally low-church communities, they treat the sacraments much like other non-denominational or Bible churches. Some of them don’t use the term sacraments, others restrict their adminstration to just clergy or elders, others empower the laity to serve them.
Scott – being in this context, I agree with Lisa that the authority is rooted in the community – which is far harder and messier to deal with than obeying some hierarchy.
Karl – you say you don’t have to be a good anglican to be a good christian, but then you say that unless one is rooted in tradition they are missing something. Is not telling me I am not whole in my faith the same as telling me that I am not a good christian or the right type of christian?
Greg – my choice of the term tribes came in reaction to the fact that identities are still key even within emerging circles. You have the Anglemergents, the Presbyemergents, the Luthermergents… and so on. They claim their identity within their tradition as still valid. I want to learn from them, but some of them find it offensive for me to learn from them and not become one of them. It is us vs. them in one sense, but I see communities and tribes as being necessary families as well. We can be part of families we feel most at home with and interact and learn from other families. When I say I feel no allegiance to a particular tribe or family – it is not to condemn them, but to try to dismantle the us vs. them dichotomy. Why should I have to join or assume an identity instead of simply being part of the broader conversation?
Julie, I think questions of being a good Christian or the right type of Christian are fundamentalist or conservative evangelical baggage/hangups.
Suggesting something might be at risk if one doesn’t put down at least some roots somewhere doesn’t really sound all that controversial or accusatory to me. There are dangers inherent in just about any approach to faith, whether it’s complete submission to one tradition or complete rejection of the idea of submitting to any tradition or creed – the important thing IMO is to acknowledge the risks and discuss ways to avoid them, not to ignore the dangers and pretend they don’t exist. The second paragraph of my post #4 sums up what I was trying to say.
I disagree with your re-phrasing of what I said. I never talked about being a “good anglican.” Same thing about baggage and hangups applies. One of the things I like about anglicanism is that you can be an anglican and disagree on a whole lot of stuff. The Christian tent/umbrella for me is pretty big, and that is who I think of as my family, more so than just anglicans – and anglicanism at its best both allows and encourages that perspective, being kind of a via media between protestantism and catholicism and seeking to avoid divisiveness on nonessential matters.
But if one doesn’t want to be anglican, that’s fine. If I wasn’t anglican I’d feel the same way but would probably be in some kind of independent emerge-ish church with relatively moderate to conservative (for emerge-ish church) theological views, or else in an evangelical church that was moderate-to-liberal (for an evangelical church)that had emerge-ish impulses and concerns. But if I was at such a church and it wasn’t already tied to a particular tradition, I’d push for us to find a place to put down at least some roots, whether embodied in a creed or a statement about the great tradition or the stream(s) of historic Christianity (c.f. Richard Foster’s Streams of Living Water) or whatever. And if my church WAS narrowly tied to a particular tradition, I’d be pushing for us to draw and learn from the other streams. But that’s just me, and what your comment stirs up in response.
I don’t know if my post will trackback or not, but I responded on my blog. Well, I let the question stand and paralleled it with Russell Rathbun’s thoughts on a Church with a shelf life. I think part of what you express is about the natal culture of any Christian tradition. What culture gave birth to what kind of Christianity? What I think you may also be expressing is what 20th Century American culture gave birth to…and how it is shifting again thanks to emergence. Some tradtions value static identity (Orthodoxy, Catholicism) while others assume a certain transience to the forms (See: American evangelicalism, Willow Creek, revivalist traditions, etc).
Good thoughts, Julie. Thanks.
Tripp, I think you’re on to something with the “natal culture” observation. I was thinking something similar in the earlier thread of posts when I said that this approach seems to me to be the natural child of low-church evangelical, independent bible churchdom and that both child and parent are natural outgrowths of the western small “l” liberal tradition that places great emphasis on the freedom and autonomy of the individual.
Karl, it seems logical to me. It may not be true, but we’ll see. I think that there are generations of people who have grown up “traditionless.” This is neither good nor bad and is in a way it’s own tradition. As Julie suggested this “third way” I was thinking that it’s simply another protestant tradition. No more. No less.
Julie, if I oversimplify too far let me know. I just wonder if after generations of non-denominational Christianity in the US if there is a way for some of us to “rejoin” anything. Heck, they never left anything in the first place.
Evangelical Christianity may be one of Phyllis Tickles streams of Christianity. Right now she has it mixed up in Protestantism. I’m just not sure all of evangelical Christianity is founded as a protest movement. Thus, it stands at its own tradition along side Protestantism, Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, Pentecostalism and Emergence.
Now that I think about it, Julie, Tickle might actually lump this group you highlight into Emergence Christianity. I don’t know.
Others? Thoughts?
Karl – as I understood your words – tradition makes one whole as a Christian. Do you not see not being whole as a somewhat lesser for of Christianity?
Tripp – thanks for the interaction on these ideas. And you are very right, the non-denom/Bible church thing is very much a tradition in itself even if it doesn’t have the same structure and heritage as other Christian traditions. But it is much harder to be rooted in a tradition where all authority is in either the Bible – or more practically the particular local church. Not that there is anything wrong with those things, they just don’t lend themselves to shape a person or church in the same was the other traditions might. And while it may be the product of Western American individualism, it also is what it is. There really is no turning back for many of us. What I’m not seeing much of is a respect for emergence christianity as a tradition (just like there has been little respect for evangelicalism as a tradition)
Julie, have you spoken to Phyllis about these ideas? She may have some great insights. It would seem, from the last time I saw her, that Emergence Christianity is getting some respect from the socio-historians. That may not be the group you were hoping for (heh) but there you go.
Have you read McLaren’s new-ish book on rediscovering the traditions?
Julie, Mike,
Thank you for your clarifications. Julie, from your response, I think another avenue has opened up in the conversation- you bring up the concept of identity, which I think is key (”Why should I have to join or assume an identity instead of simply being part of the broader conversation?”) How much does identity play a role in tradition as we are defining it as opposed to identity as it is defined in the context of the emerging conversation?
Tripp – I’ve talked briefly with Phyllis about it. Her response was along the lines of “more power to you guys – you have so much freedom and don’t have to deal with the crap the rest of us do.” For me the biggest issue here is interdenominational respect. At C21 Nadia Bolz-Weber referred to evangelicals discovering liturgy as “adorable” (which is a lot of what Brian’s book is all about, that discovery of tradition). Will there be a time when emergents (or evangelicals) will be respected by the traditions and not looked upon condescendingly is what I’m really wondering.
Greg – In many of the older church traditions that identity seems to be very important. Mike speaks of his friends at seminary that have to adhere to Calvin even if they have to interpret him in some really twisted way – because they are reformed and therefore cannot disagree with Calvin – that is their identity that cannot be challenged. But one of the core values for many emergents is the ability to question everything – to not have truth hindered by such pre-assumed identity. We lose a heritage – but possibly get a more authentic identity in the process. I guess the question becomes which do we value more.
“At C21 Nadia Bolz-Weber referred to evangelicals discovering liturgy as “adorable” (which is a lot of what Brian’s book is all about, that discovery of tradition). Will there be a time when emergents (or evangelicals) will be respected by the traditions and not looked upon condescendingly is what I’m really wondering.”
I certainly understand why such a statement could be interpreted as condescending, but I’m guessing it wasn’t intended that way.
My first experience with anything emergent was in seminary, when a friend of mine put together an elaborate alternative worship experience that at once both utilized ancient prayers and rituals and also proclaimed fairly explicitly that the point of emergent was to stand up against the so-called traditional church.
I admit that it has been slow and difficult for me to get on friendly terms with anything emergent, emerging, or otherwise, because my first experience was one that told me that I was wrong for being part of an institutional, “traditional” church. But at the same time, this emergent experience was utilizing ancient prayers and practices familiar to my own liturgical background…and patting itself on the back for being so novel by doing so.
I think that Nadia’s sentiment is reflective of frustration rather than condescension. For those of us for whom the ancient prayers and rituals of liturgy are part of our deep-seated Christian experience, it feels like a slap in the face when emergents or evangelicals or really any Christian group starts using these practices believing that they are the first or only people in our day and age to do them.
I don’t think there’s any question that I fall into the category of “the tradition,” though I would nuance it to speak in broad terms of Christian tradition, not as the tradition of one particular denomination or another. But I guess that insofar as you are struggling with your feelings that “the tradition” is not taking emergents seriously, so also am I struggling with feelings that emergents have not taken “the tradition” seriously.
So whether or not one comes from a tradition, and whether or not it is appropriate for you (or others in your situation) to speak of keeping one foot in the tradition when you might never have had a foot in any sort of tradition to begin with…I don’t argue with any of what you said in your initial post. I would just like to wonder out loud about whether it is possible – and even necessary – for emergent and for Christian “nomads” to at least acknowledge the traditions of the church in its various manifestations.
I’ve worked hard to get on board with emergent, and I like a lot of what is going on there. Unfortunately, I’m not yet convinced that emergent has thought to give me the same respect….
I guess that we’ve all been burned at one point or another, haven’t we? Some of us by the traditional church, some of us by emergent…and we are all still nursing those wounds. So I wonder where we all go from here…
Julie, so we are seeing identity as more foundational for those in tradition and more fluid for those considering themselves part of the emerging dialogue- I can see that.
And Melissa, thank you very much for your thoughts as well- you touched on an idea I was pondering while reading Julie’s initial posts and various responses. Let me focus on an absolutely relevant word you used in your reply:
“Nomads.”
Metaphorically, I think this an apt description of the current relationship between the two camps as we see them at the moment. Another word we could use is “pilgrim.” If we could think of emergents on a pilgrimage of sorts, where journey is an inherent part of the spiritual process, and those involved, or grounded, in tradition as caretakers of the various shrines, monasteries, or holy sites in which a pilgrim visits on his/her travels…hmmm, does any insight comes from this picture? (I’m really thinking out loud at the moment)…
The pilgrim has a different set of concerns on his journey- how much is in his backpack, does he have enough water, what is the terrain like?
The caretaker of the shrine or monastery wonders: Are there enough beds? When shall we light the candles? How many will come to dinner tonight?
Each is relevant to the other: the pilgrim shares what he has seen on his journey, the caretaker offers a place of quiet and rest and restoration for the seeker.
Melissa -
I’m sure that Nadia didn’t mean that phrase to be condescending – but I think there is a great amount of misunderstanding happening between traditionalists and evangelical/emergents. There is the stream of emergent that is anti-institutional, but even amidst that there is very little anti-tradition. At the same time I’ve found any questioning or critique of traditional church structures is taken by those within such structures to be anti-institutional. That is really not where most of us are coming from, but it is a hard misperception to overcome.
And I am really curious about your perception that when evangelicals or emergents use tradition or liturgy you see us as believing we are the first to ever do so. I’ve never encountered that attitude. I’ve always seen it presented as finding respect for the traditions of the church. Those of us who grew up in the evangelical church were often taught that those in denominations weren’t really Christians and that liturgy was part of satanic ritual. So choosing to respect the traditions enough to learn from their practices is new within many evangelical streams, but not at all a claim that we have invented something from scratch. For most people I know, it is all about finally opening our eyes to the entire history of Christianity, not just the last 50-100 years.
At the same time many of us are not ready to fully switch identities into the tradition. We want to learn from but not join. That is where I’ve encountered the most resistance. People are offended that I would make use of their practices without buying into everything that they are. They see it as disrespect, but most emergents mean it only as a sign or utmost respect. Therein lies the communication problem.
I like the pilgrim/nomad metaphor. Like I mentioned above, I feel like I am visiting another country when I interact with traditional denominations. I know I am visiting, but I want to be a respectful tourist, learn what I can from this culture, and let it change me in the ways it can. Even if that just means that I adopt the surfacey cultural elements like holidays and food, I still see it as a way of respecting and admiring the culture. I’m not going to immigrate and go native (at least right now), but I still want to be changed by the culture. The question is will I ever be accepted by a culture even if I never fully become one of them? Will a learning, cosmopolitan posture be ridiculed and spoken of condescendingly, or seen as just another way of being within the church?
As I hinted in my post, I’m guessing that most of my baggage when it comes to emergent is due to my initial experience with it, when it was presented to me as both intentionally anti-institutional and as being superior for using ancient liturgical elements (with no deference to churches who had already been using those elements).
I think that your quest and my quest at this point are similar. The way that I approach theology certainly resonates with the emergent ethos, even if my positive experience with the traditional church and my desire to stay there doesn’t necessarily fit the emergent mold. My first experience with emergent was one that hurt me deeply, but I have been trying hard to learn what I can from emergent and to contribute what I can to it…and hoping that I might yet be accepted by it even if I don’t fully become it.
And I’m sad for you that your experiences with the traditional church have been ones where you don’t feel accepted! You can come to my church – we’ll love you, I promise!
(Actually, my church is in Naperville, so near your old stomping grounds!)
Melissa – one thing it’s important to understand about the emerging church conversation is that there are many streams of it. There is definitely a strong anti-institutional stream of it, and we’ve been burned those folks too, even as low-church/non-traditional as we are. For some, even the fact that we were planting a church and didn’t think that all structure and institution was evil was still too much of a sell-out for them.
However, there is also a strong “hybrid-mergent” stream, which is all the many, many folks in existing denominations and traditions who, like yourself, feel no pull to leave where they’re at, but would like to work from within for reform. There are Presbymergents, Anglimergents, Luthermergents, Baptimergents, etc., etc. A LOT of the emerging folks I know are in one of these streams. For instance, the Emergent cohort that meets just up the road from you in Wheaton is often frequented by several committed ELCA pastors, and the one down in the city (Wicker Park actually) is led by some PC(USA) folks. None of them have felt the need to trash their own denominations in order to be part of the conversation.
hmmm… good discussion here (even though I only skimmed the comments)
there is yet another tradition that is being ignored here – the free church. While the “low church” tradition has been mentioned, it has been implied that it includes only the very conservative wing of the church. This isn’t true. Indeed, some of the Baptists, for example, have been very liberal/progressive through the history of that tradition. Some of the folk on the left there would even argue that that is the most authentic expression of that tradition. One of the early heroes – Roger Williams, went on to become a Unitarian Universalist. There are still some American Baptist Churches that are dually aligned with the Unitarian Universalist denomination.
Beyond that, it seems to me that there are streams in the free church tradition that are extremely amenable to emergence. Some parts of that tradition are encouraging of questions, expect contextualization of the gospel, and require a sensitivity to culture that many of the liturgical traditions discourage.
All of that is to say that is is probably much easier to have a foot in some traditions than others.
I appreciated this. I grew up in a “first-generation Christian” home. My parents were the first in their families to embrace faith. And we spent our time in tiny, charismatic churches in western Canada. So I had zero understanding of church traditions. After 20 years of being a Christian, I learned about palms actually being at a service for Easter for instance. So I don’t have the “traditional traditions.” But I have our own. Like Roy above said, mine are more of a free church tradition. We each come from what came before. I don’t think it’s so much about embracing a white, westernized version of reformed traditions or next up, Catholicism. Those aren’t mine. I find I return to things like free prayer, scripture, small community, even speaking in tongues when I am going back to my roots. Great post and I love the conversation here too.
I’m a little late to the conversation, but I wanted to articulate three thoughts.
1) In all of the above comments, we have actually used many different understandings of “tradition”. Tradition can refer to practice, belief/theology, behaviors, local customs, organizing structures, etc. Each of these things is thought of as the purview of “traditional”. Another Tickle reference: if you look at her quadrants (liturgical, social justice, charismatic, and conservative), each one would define tradition differently and would have a different set of traditions that must be defended. This has meant that the most popular arguments against emergence have come from the conservative quadrant and deal with conservative theology (and whether or not we subscribe to Reformed theology or whatever). I would contend that we should identify the different parts of tradition and deal with each separately. For instance, the structure argument: In the Episcopal Church, we have some pretty convoluted structures that actually prevent many Spirit-led ministers to seek ordination. If we are able to deal with our understanding of “tradition” as it relates to Holy Orders, then we are better able to deal with the presenting problems.
Tripp: you make an interesting suggestion about evangelicalism. I would contend that you are half right in that Protestantism doesn’t exist without evangelicalism. I would contend that historically, evangelicalism is the central motivator for the Reformation, and therefore transcends denominations. At the same time, Protestantism is not only rooted in evangelicalism, but almost defined by it, forming a synergistic relationship.
2) I believe Julie’s original post had to do with the relationship of being a new creation in light of inherited institution. Do we need to be aligned with institutions and/or practicing historically-rooted/consistent practices? This discussion seems to have already addressed this idea: No we don’t have to, but the conversation is deepened by the presence of historical practices and the thinking of historical practioners.
3) The primary arguments about EC and tradition have to do with liturgical practice and theology. As we know this is actually the same terrain, except that many seem to define traditional liturgy as ‘the precious practices that I learned in my local church as a child’ and traditional theology as ‘the beliefs articulated in creeds and affirmations by men that are long dead’. None of us would assent to these definitions, but these are the operating assumptions of the discussion. The more we are able to discuss liturgy and theology in the ways our favorite practitioners describe them, the more “traditional” emergents are, and the more fringe its opponents are.
Sorry for the rambling, but great conversation so far!