One of the most common assumptions in the modern church world—especially in Evangelical and non-denominational circles—is that “we don’t follow tradition.” Many pride themselves on being “Bible-only” churches, free from the weight of centuries-old rituals or human teachings. But the truth is, everyone has a tradition. Whether it’s the liturgy of high church worship or the predictable order of service in low church settings, all churches inherit patterns, phrases, and theological frameworks that shape how they interpret Scripture, organize leadership, and practice worship.
The question isn’t whether we have traditions—it’s whether we recognize them, test them, and submit them to the Word of God. In some churches, tradition has become so dominant that it competes with or even overrides Scripture. In others, the idea of “tradition” is so rejected or ignored that people are unaware they’re replicating traditions without understanding why they do what they do and where they came from. Both approaches can lead the church off course.
So what gives? Is tradition good or bad? Helpful or harmful? The answer depends on what kind of tradition we’re talking about—and whether it submits to Scripture or replaces it.
In this post, we’ll explore how tradition can be a tool that reinforces truth or a tyrant that replaces it. We’ll look at how Catholics and Orthodox Christians have elevated tradition to dangerous heights, how Protestants have sometimes blindly reacted in the opposite direction, and how the Churches of Christ have sought to walk a different path—one grounded in Scripture alone as the pattern and authority. Because, at the end of the day, our goal isn’t to be traditional or trendy. Our goal is to be biblical.
The Role of Tradition in Scripture
The Bible doesn’t present a simplistic, one-sided view of tradition. Instead, it treats the subject with nuance, warning against certain types of traditions while affirming others. Understanding this distinction is essential if we’re going to think clearly and faithfully about how tradition functions in the life of the church.
Dangerous Traditions
Jesus’ strongest criticisms of the religious leaders of His day weren’t just about their hypocrisy but also about their elevation of human tradition over divine command. In Mark 7, He rebukes the Pharisees and scribes, saying, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition” (v. 8). He accuses them of invalidating the Word of God for the sake of their inherited practices—using religious customs to justify disobedience to God’s law.
Paul echoes this concern in Colossians 2:8:
“See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition… and not according to Christ.”
In both cases, tradition is portrayed as dangerous when it begins to compete with Scripture, redefine its meaning, or establish man-made rules that become tests of righteousness. These traditions may be well-intentioned, but when they become authoritative, they become destructive—binding consciences where God has not spoken and distorting the gospel message.
Sacred Traditions
Yet, not all tradition is condemned. In fact, the apostle Paul speaks positively of certain traditions—those rooted in apostolic teaching. In 2 Thessalonians 2:15, he writes:
“Stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.”
This “tradition” refers not to evolving customs or external rituals but to the body of doctrine handed down from Christ through the apostles. Before the New Testament was completed, this instruction was transmitted both orally and in writing. And once written, it was preserved as authoritative Scripture.
So what’s the difference between these two kinds of tradition? It comes down to source and authority. Apostolic tradition flows from Christ’s own instruction, faithfully transmitted by those commissioned to teach in His name. It is now captured in the New Testament canon. Human tradition, by contrast, originates in culture, reaction, or institutional habit—and must be constantly examined and tested.
In short, tradition is not automatically bad, but it should never be above scrutiny. When it reinforces biblical teaching, it can be helpful. When it rivals or replaces biblical teaching, it becomes a tyrant. The church must always discern whether its practices are grounded in the Word of God or simply in what we’ve always done.
The Value and Limitations of Historical Tradition
When the apostles died and the New Testament writings began circulating, the early church entered a new era without direct apostolic oversight. Faced with increasing persecution and the rise of heretical teachings, the church had to clarify what it believed and why. This gave rise to historical traditions such as creeds, councils, and theological summaries—tools that helped preserve essential truths of the faith.
The early ecumenical councils—like the First Council of Nicaea (A.D. 325) and the Council of Chalcedon (A.D. 451)—played a crucial role in defending core doctrines such as the deity of Christ, the Trinity, and the two natures of Christ. These councils didn’t introduce new beliefs; they clarified what the church had already believed in the face of distortion and false teaching. Early creeds like the Nicene Creed helped establish theological boundaries during a time when many false teachings were circulating, offering a concise summary of the faith grounded in Scripture.
Personally, I believe there’s real value in that. These creeds and traditions helped the church articulate the gospel, guard against error, and train new believers. They represent the church’s historical effort to remain faithful to apostolic teaching, especially when rightly understood as summaries, not sources, of truth.
But while these traditions were helpful, they were never inspired. The danger arose when helpful summaries became untouchable standards—when church leaders began to enforce the language and categories of these creeds as though they held the same authority as the Bible itself. Over time, clarification became codified, and the church began drifting into a kind of theological bureaucracy where tradition could not be questioned. Any challenges to it—even when faithful to Scripture—were seen as heresy.
This is where the limits of tradition must be recognized. Church history can offer wisdom, but it can also pass down error. The fact that something is “ancient” doesn’t make it “apostolic.” The fact that it’s been done for centuries doesn’t mean it’s faithful.
Let me be clear: the concern is not fundamentally about the content of these creeds and councils. The Nicene Creed, for example, affirms many truths that Christians today still rightly believe about God, Christ, the Spirit, the church, and salvation. The issue is authority. We affirm the truths that align with Scripture, but we do not treat the creeds themselves as authoritative declarations that the church must submit to. They are helpful, but they are not inspired.
Even the best traditions must be tested, not merely trusted. And that’s where the Restoration plea finds its footing again—not in rejecting history outright, but in insisting that every tradition must kneel before the Word of God.
Two Extremes: Tradition as Tyranny and Tradition as Amnesia
When it comes to tradition, the modern Christian world tends to fall into one of two extremes. On one side, we see churches that elevate tradition to a place of authority equal to or even above Scripture. On the other, churches proudly dismiss all traditions, often without realizing how deeply influenced they are by traditions they’ve simply never examined. Both extremes are problematic.
Catholic and Orthodox Overreliance
In the Catholic Church and Eastern Orthodox tradition, Sacred Tradition is held as one of the twin pillars of authority alongside Scripture. In fact, in practice, tradition often becomes the interpretive lens through which Scripture is read. This approach has preserved many important theological truths—such as the divinity of Christ and the Trinity—but it has also led to the elevation of extrabiblical doctrines to the level of binding dogma.
Take, for example, the Immaculate Conception of Mary, the Assumption of Mary, or the doctrine of purgatory. These were not taught by the apostles. They are not found in the New Testament. They will jump through eisegetical and theological hoops to tell you they are, but it’s just mental gymnastics for the sake of upholding these traditions.
These dogmas are required beliefs in Catholicism, and those who deny them are subject to anathema—a formal declaration of excommunication and spiritual separation. The Council of Trent, Vatican I, and other official Catholic councils have made it clear that rejecting church-defined tradition can cost you your standing in the church—and, by extension, your standing with Christ.
This turns tradition into something far more than a helpful guide. It becomes spiritual law. Not only are believers told they must affirm these later teachings, but they are also taught that failure to do so severs them from salvation. The magisterium becomes the gatekeeper of grace, and obedience to human tradition becomes a test of fellowship with God.
The Eastern Orthodox Church operates a bit differently. It is less dogmatic in its legal formulations, but the result is similar. Tradition, or “Holy Tradition,” is viewed as the living voice of the Spirit through the church, encompassing not only Scripture but also icons, liturgy, the decisions of the ecumenical councils, and the writings of the Fathers. In practice, questioning or revising any part of that tradition is seen not as biblical discernment but as rebellion against the church.
In both cases, tradition governs the interpretation of Scripture rather than Scripture holding authority over tradition. This leads to a closed system where meaningful reform is nearly impossible, and the gospel itself becomes obscured beneath centuries of ecclesiastical development.
Evangelical and Protestant Forgetfulness
On the opposite end of the spectrum, many Evangelical churches have swung so far away from Catholicism and Orthodoxy that they’ve embraced a kind of tradition-less faith—at least in theory. They say things like, “No creed but Christ,” or “We’re not religious; we just follow the Bible.” But while this may sound noble, it often masks an uncomfortable truth: many believers in these churches have no idea where their beliefs come from.
Most Evangelicals claim theological lineage from figures like Martin Luther or John Calvin, yet hold positions on baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and worship that are far closer to Ulrich Zwingli—the Reformer who radically minimized the sacraments and emphasized their symbolic nature. Ironically, most don’t even know Zwingli’s name, let alone realize how much of his theology they’ve inherited.
This a-historical approach to theology has created a church culture where believers are theologically shallow, allergic to anything “traditional,” and prone to elevate personal conviction over doctrinal depth. In rejecting the structure and ritual of “high church” traditions, many Evangelicals have simply substituted trendiness for truth, emotional experience for historical grounding, and celebrity pastors for faithful shepherds.
This doesn’t make them more biblical—it often just makes them blind to their own assumptions. They’ve rejected tradition as a tyrant, but in doing so, they’ve lost the valuable tools that tradition can offer when rightly used.
The Restoration Ideal
Between the extremes of tradition-as-law and tradition-as-irrelevant, the Restoration Movement charted a different path—one that sought to honor history without becoming bound to it and to submit fully to Scripture without pretending that tradition doesn’t exist. The plea of early Restoration leaders like Alexander Campbell and Barton W. Stone was simple: let’s return to the Bible. Not to create a new denomination but to restore the church as it was in the beginning.
The Churches of Christ have carried that conviction with unusual clarity. While we recognize that tradition can be valuable, we have long affirmed that only Scripture holds final authority. The Bible is not filtered through councils, creeds, or magisterial interpretations. Instead, we aim to follow the model of the Bereans in Acts 17:11, who were “more noble-minded... examining the Scriptures daily to see whether these things were so.”
Slogans like “Speak where the Bible speaks and be silent where the Bible is silent” or “Call Bible things by Bible names and do Bible things in Bible ways” may sound naive to modern ears, but they capture something important: a commitment to let Scripture define the church, rather than adapting it to fit our preferences, traditions, or denominational loyalties.
That said, even the Restoration Movement is not immune to the creeping power of tradition. Every movement eventually forms its own customs, expectations, and interpretive frameworks. If we are not careful, we can elevate our own conclusions to the level of doctrine—turning biblical applications into untouchable patterns and treating unity as uniformity. That, too, is a form of tradition becoming law.
As much as we celebrate what the Churches of Christ have preserved, we must also be willing to evaluate what we’ve added. There’s a fine line between being faithful to the Word and being pharisaical about our preferences. We have to make sure we walk on the correct side.
(Note: we’ll have an entire post dedicated to this topic in the near future)
Conclusion
Tradition can be a beautiful thing. It connects us with the past, offers structure, and reminds us that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. But it’s also a fickle thing, easily elevated beyond its rightful place. When tradition serves the truth of Scripture, it becomes a helpful tool. When it begins to compete with or replace God’s Word, it becomes a tyrant.
That’s why the Restoration plea remains so relevant. The Churches of Christ, at their best, are not a tradition-less people. We’re a people who believe that tradition must be tested that Scripture must govern, and that truth must come from the Word, not just from what we’ve inherited.
We don’t reject all traditions. We simply refuse to call it binding unless we can show it in the text.
This doesn’t mean we always get it right or are immune to forming our traditions and protecting them like sacred law, but it does mean that we’re committed to asking hard questions, opening God’s Word, and letting Christ lead His church.
