When Traditions Look Strange
Not long ago, someone unfamiliar with high church liturgical practice was walking down a city footpath and noticed something odd. Dozens of people had dark smudges on their foreheads. No one seemed embarrassed. No one was trying to wipe it off. They simply went about their day — catching buses, ordering coffee, heading to work — marked.
To the uninformed observer it looked strange. Was it dirt? A protest? Some kind of public statement?
Of course, it was Ash Wednesday — a solemn beginning to Lent. The ashes symbolize mortality and repentance: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” What looked unusual was, in fact, a centuries-old act of humility.
I read about a flight attendant aboard a long-haul 747 who grew concerned when she saw a man standing near his seat wrapping leather straps tightly around his arm and forehead. The black box positioned above his brow looked foreign and alarming. She moved quickly to intervene.
But the passenger was an Orthodox Jew praying the morning prayers, fulfilling Deuteronomy 6:8: “You shall bind them as a sign on your hand and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.” The leather straps were tefillin, not something dangerous — but something sacred.
In both cases, devotion looked strange to the outsider.
And that raises an important question:
What do we do when someone else’s tradition makes us uncomfortable?
The Double-Edged Nature of Tradition
The word tradition can make some Christians nervous. After all, Jesus rebuked religious leaders for elevating tradition above Scripture. “Why do you yourselves transgress the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition?” (Matthew 15:3)
Tradition becomes dangerous when it replaces God’s Word, burdens consciences beyond what He requires, or fosters pride. But Scripture does not reject tradition outright. Paul writes:
“Stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught.” (2 Thessalonians 2:15)
Traditions can preserve memory. They can embody theology. They can train the heart. They can pass faith from one generation to the next.
Ashes speak of repentance.
Tefillin represent covenant faithfulness. Passover preaches redemption. Communion preaches remembrance. Tradition itself is not the enemy. The misuse of tradition is.
Why We Misjudge What We Don’t Understand
When we see something unfamiliar in a religious setting, our instinct is often suspicion.
We protect what feels normal to us. We question what feels foreign. We sometimes judge what we don’t comprehend. Yet much of what looks strange is simply someone else expressing devotion within their own inherited story.
To a first-century Roman observer, baptism would have looked odd. To a pagan neighbour, the Lord’s Supper may have seemed bizarre. To a secular modern eye, fasting looks extreme. Devotion, especially embodied devotion, rarely looks ordinary to outsiders.
The problem is not that traditions exist. The problem is how we respond to traditions that are not our own.
Romans 14: A Theology of Mutual Respect
Romans 14 is one of the most liberating chapters in the New Testament when it comes to differing traditions among sincere believers. Paul addresses disputes over food and special days — matters that stirred strong emotions in the early church.
He wrote, “The one who eats is not to regard with contempt the one who does not eat, and the one who does not eat is not to judge the one who eats, for God has accepted him.” (Romans 14:3)
Notice the two dangers: Contempt and judgment.
Contempt says, “You’re foolish.”
Judgment says, “You’re wrong.”
Paul dismantles both by reminding us: “Who are you to judge the servant of another? To his own master he stands or falls; and he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.” (14:4) That sentence alone could heal many church divisions.
The issue is not whether we would choose the same practice. The issue is whether the person is acting for the Lord. Paul continues: “One person regards one day above another, another regards every day alike. Each person must be fully convinced in his own mind.” (14:5)
And then the key principle: “He who observes the day, observes it for the Lord… he who eats, does so for the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and he who eats not, for the Lord he does not eat, and gives thanks to God.” (14:6)
Motivation matters. Gratitude matters. Lordship matters.
Two Takeaways
1. Learn to Appreciate the Traditions of “the Other”
Before dismissing a practice, ask:
- What story is this telling?
- What Scripture stands behind it?
- What spiritual discipline is it forming?
- What memory is it preserving?
We do not have to adopt every tradition to respect it. Appreciation is not the same as participation. Ashes may not be your practice — but they proclaim repentance.
Tefillin may not be your custom — but they proclaim embodied Scripture. Humility begins with curiosity.
2. Embrace the Spirit of Romans 14
Paul grounds everything in the Lordship of Messiah: “If we live, we live for the Lord; or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” (14:8) And again, “For to this end Christ died and lived again, that He might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.” (14:9)
Traditions are secondary.
Lordship is primary.
If someone is acting from sincere conviction, giving thanks to God, and seeking to honor Him, we step carefully before criticizing. We are not the Holy Spirit for other believers.
A Final Thought
To the passerby, ashes look like dirt. To the anxious stewardess, tefillin look alarming. But to the worshipper, they are acts of devotion.
Perhaps the next time we encounter a tradition that feels unfamiliar, we might pause before reacting. We might remember Romans 14. And we might ask ourselves: Is this person doing this for the Lord?
If so, humility — not judgment — is the proper response.
