I recently had a discussion about the custom of men removing their hats indoors. My interlocutor described this as a “silly and arbitrary tradition.”

All such traditions - while perhaps having some ancient grounding in practicality - are today arbitrary. There is no practical reason for a woman to be permitted - or even be encouraged - to wear a hat inside (especially in the church during the Divine Service), while a man is discouraged from the same. It isn’t as if the female head will be damaged by the ceiling lights or that the male head will be harmed if covered.

In a similar vein, there is no practical reason why a man can’t wear lipstick and a dress while reading stories to children at the public library, whereas a woman can without objection. There is certainly an arbitrariness surrounding sexual distinction in matters of dress and attire. Indeed, three hundred years ago, a man might well wear a powdered wig, tight pants, and a ruffled shirt, and yet be considered masculine. That is not the case today - although college campuses and Antifa rallies may be an exception to this contemporary generalization. That said, the arbitrary nature of these traditions do not mean that they are useless, silly, outmoded, or that there would be no consequence to their abolition. We do inhabit space and time, and in our space and time, we have received this tradition from our forbears. Distinctions between the sexes in matters of attire are indeed not worthless - especially in this day and age of Drag Queen Story Hour as a means of exposing children to the idea of separating gender identity and sex and normalizing that which isn’t.

Seemingly arbitrary traditions help us to teach people what they need to know about sex distinction and society.

There are many social traditions that have no practical application, and yet are almost universally practiced among us: such as rising for the Gospel reading. Or in secular society, standing for the National Anthem, or when in uniform, standing smartly if an officer enters the room. Very few men honor the ancient custom of rising when a lady enters the room. We are the poorer having surrendered that one.

The custom of opening a door for a lady seems to be outmoded, as a modern woman can just as easily open the door herself. And yet, that ceremony teaches people what they need to know about respect for women. One would think that ultra-right traditionalists and ultra-left feminists on opposite ends of the spectrum should both want to promote respect for women. How we express it may well be a different story.

Some traditions are under attack, such as the custom of gentlemen removing ball-caps inside - especially in the House of the Lord. Such customs seem to infringe on our liberty and sense of comfort. The sex distinction strikes modern young people as “unfair.” Clapping after a performance has been replaced by hand-waving (“jazz hands”) at Oxford University and elsewhere, as some people claim to be “triggered” by applause. We live in times where indeed, “nothing is sacred,” and even statues of George Washington are being targeted for replacement.

Many of our traditions are under attack by people who want to see western civilization overturned - cultural Marxists, cultural relativists, egalitarians, feminists, and various neo-Jacobins who want to sever all ties with a past history that they deem to be racist, sexist, homophobic, etc. This is especially true regarding matters of sex, as masculine traditions are treated as exclusionary and toxic, and feminine traditions are derided as subservient and patriarchal. There is indeed a push toward abolition all distinction between the sexes.

Tradition is sometimes treated as a dirty word among us Lutherans. Certainly, when Roman Catholics elevate the tradition of men as dogmatic and on par with Holy Scripture, when the Pharisees treated traditions with greater reverence than the Ten Commandments and the mercy of God - these are indeed abuses. Of course, it goes without saying that abuse doesn’t take away from the use (“Abusus non tollit usum”).

Tradition, rightly understood, is a good thing indeed. Civilization itself would crumble were it not for tradition - a word whose etymology suggests the handing off of something from one person to another. St. Paul uses the word “tradition” (“παράδοσις”) to describe the godly doctrine that he taught to the Thessalonians. Human traditions only become destructive when they are contrary to God’s Word, or when they confess a lie instead of the truth. Examples of popular American Lutheran traditions are Christmas trees, Jello salad, and LWML Sunday. Of course, the latter two are not quite as universal as the Christmas tree.

The great early 20th century thinker and writer G.K. Chesterton famously called tradition the Democracy of the Dead. He also wrote with beautiful insight about the wisdom of being conservative when it comes to retaining traditions and not abolishing them simply because they don’t seem, at first blush, to have any value any longer. His analogy is known as Chesterton’s Fence.

Lutherans did indeed abolish some traditions - such as prayers to the saints, forced clerical celibacy, and communion under one kind - as these traditions of men are all contrary to Scripture, obscure the Gospel, and are harmful to souls. But Lutherans retained the vast majority of traditions received by their forbears in the Western Church: the creeds, the liturgy, and where it was possible, the ancient polity of the church.

One example of such a tradition is the sign of the cross. When I first started attending Lutheran Divine Services in 1981 (after having read up on Lutheranism - including the Augsburg Confession and the Small Catechism), it was disorienting that I was virtually the only person in the sanctuary crossing himself. Even the rubrics of the hymnal said that the sign of the cross was to be made at the invocation of the Trinity, the benediction, and before and after receiving the elements of Holy Communion. Why weren’t people doing so?

The classic answer is that it’s “too Catholic” or that “it’s not in the Bible.” Indeed, it isn’t a dogma. But it is a custom that we have received from antiquity (at least the second century) that is a confession of one’s faith. It is a gesture akin to bowing one’s head and folding one’s hands to pray. And when done publicly - such as praying before meals in a restaurant - it is a confession of our faith. I don’t understand why Muslims have no problem confessing their faith in the form of the hijab - while Lutherans and other Christians may be squeamish about praying and making the sign of the cross in public. Luther considered it of such value, it is included in the Small Catechism and is to be taught to children. It is a ceremony that teaches children what they need to know about Christ.

Of course, this idea of tradition applies to much of our liturgy. Apology 24:1 describes our Lutheran approach to liturgical customs:

“In our churches Mass is celebrated every Sunday and on other festivals when the sacrament is offered to those who wish for it after they have been examined and absolved. We keep traditional liturgical forms, such as the order of the lessons, prayers, vestments, etc.”

It is presented as a matter of fact that we keep these “traditional liturgical forms.” They have been “handed over” to us, and since they are a blessing, since they promote God’s Word, the Gospel, and the care of souls, we do not despise or abolish these traditions. There is value to the order of the Mass, to every Sunday communion, to feast days, to private confession and absolution, to catechesis of the communicant, to the lectionary, the ancient collects, vestments, etc.

The argument against these traditions is often the two-headed canard: “Too Catholic” and “not in the Bible.” But so what? Roman Catholics also typically have air conditioning in their churches, and electric lighting is not in the Bible. Is anyone promoting their abolition?

Sadly, we are often lumped in with all Western-non-Roman Catholics using the catch-all word “Protestant” - even though there is no Protestant theology of anything. “Protestants” do not agree on the Eucharist, Baptism, Absolution, the ministry, apostolic succession, the role of women, charismatic gifts, snake handling, the nature of original sin, eschatology, praying to saints (some Anglicans do), or even the Trinity (which is denied by some Pentecostals). “Protestants” do not all agree on the canon of Scripture, the proper interpretation of the creation account, the gender of God, whether the resurrection happened, ecumenical relationships, the virgin birth, or even the nature of the atonement. Too often, Lutherans see themselves as “not Catholic” and will thus associate anything seen in Roman Catholic churches - such as the sign of the cross, incense, and statues - with things that are un-Lutheran - for surely such things are not found in the churches of our Baptist, Methodist, and non-denominational brothers and sisters. Some Lutherans may even deny belief in the Real Presence, as some people think that is what “transubstantiation” is.

For Roman Catholic and non-Roman Catholic Christians alike, the 1960s were a radical time of social and ecclesiastical upheaval. Rome did indeed make some positive changes during and after Vatican II (1962-65), such as allowing Masses to be celebrated in languages other than Latin, and allowing the faithful to receive the chalice (both reforms that the Lutherans instituted more than 400 years prior). But there were also some radical new non-traditional practices that leeched into the Lutheran world as well: lay readers, female acolytes, and a reduced sense of reverence in the Mass. Half a century’s worth of “unintended consequences” (or perhaps “intended consequences”) of compromise with the world, with feminism, with anticlericalism - resulted in a lot of people scratching their heads wondering how their churches got so messed up. And so there was a strong “traditionalist” backlash that sought to return to an earlier way of doing things, like a lost driver retracing his steps to find out where the wrong turn happened.

For Lutherans, traditionalism took the form of a restored liturgical reverence and a return to the sources (the Bible, the Book of Concord and patristic theology) to find our way back to a more authentic practice. Such “ad fontes” movements lead inevitably to ancient tradition - to an inquiry of what Chesterton’s Fence looked like before it was unwisely razed. And where rebuilding the fence is feasible and pastorally responsible, we are doing it. Like Ezra and Nehemiah, we are trying to rebuild the ruins, in our case, the ruins left in the wake of modernity. For not everything from the 1960s was beneficial (to say the least!).

Gottesdienst has been laboring away at, and leading the way of, this restoration of salutary tradition for more than a quarter century. And we have seen fruit in this endeavor - and thanks to far more people than only Gottesdienst. Albs and even chasubles are mainstream. Every-Sunday communion is a reality in more churches than ever before in the history of the LCMS. There is a longing for beauty in worship, along with a renaissance of study of the Book of Concord.

And even as Rome wasn’t built in a day, such rebuilding is a long-term prospect. It will take generations, if not centuries. But the important thing is to take steps where possible to restore that which was unwisely removed: always with the Gospel in mind, with the Bible and the Book of Concord as our guideposts, and with the salvific love of Christ as the primary objective.

And as far as the little things we can do in our day to day life, there are many.

Traditionalism is countercultural, and it is often confessed by small, seemingly insignificant actions. And indeed, the anti-traditionalists know this. That is how they have been successful: eating the elephant one bite at a time. And so it works for us as well. Even one small insignificant step - taken deliberately and in concert with other like-minded people - is how traditions can indeed be reborn over time. For such traditional actions teach the people what they need to know about the faith, and about our life together in the world.

Indeed, gentlemen can take small but decisive stand for tradition by resolving to remove their hats indoors. Ladies can resolve to do the opposite. Great things can indeed come from small beginnings. As Anthony Esolen said, “No one can do everything. Everyone can do something. Begin.”