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At its best, tradition is like a tall sailing ship, navigating the uncharted narrow shoals of postmodern times. Its cargo is the virtues and values that create civilisation. From time to time, its crew has found it necessary to discard outdated, redundant and no longer serviceable jetsam. To navigate unknown shallow waters, the art of “kedging” or “warping” is applied. A dinghy rows forward a small anchor attached to a hawser while simultaneously sounding the depths. The mother ship then hauls itself forward. Rinse and repeat. In this way, the good ship “Tradition” makes its way forward through brave new worlds. When done well, such tall ships are feted and celebrated. (I am indebted to Leonard Sweet and his book, Aquachurch (Group Publishing, 1999) for this helpful concept.)
Across the spectrum of Christian spiritual tradition, from the sacramental to the puritan, fragrance has described the beauty and intimacy of connection with the Divine.
The Hebrew word dabar speaks of the spoken word that is also an action, hence the Creator “spoke” the universe into being, and the fourth gospel writer, blending both Hebrew and Greek consciousness, points to the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. What word (or Word) lies dormant within you and me?
A friend last week reminded me of the time, some years ago, I saw myself as a boundary rider, looking for and mending holes in fences. It probably suited my maverick-like approach to my work, seeking to be a part of but apart from the communities in which I participated.
Sticking with yesterday’s coffee theme, which is calling again as I contemplate an hour or two working into the evening, the daily prompt brings something to mind.