Sunday, 7 September 2025

Christians (Catholics) clinging to traditions and rituals — are they losing Christ?

 Instead of fighting about how the Mass is celebrated, Catholics should ask: Am I receiving the Eucharist worthily? Is Christ transforming me into His likeness?

 In so many Catholic communities today, debates rage endlessly about liturgical rubrics: whether the Mass should be in Latin or vernacular, whether the priest should face the people or the altar, whether communion should be on the tongue or in the hand. Parish groups split, friendships are broken, families argue — all over matters that Christ Himself never mentioned. What does this say about where our focus has shifted?

 Christianity, at its very core, is startlingly simple. It began not with rituals, not with incense or vestments, not with carefully worded liturgies or processions, but with a carpenter from Nazareth who called men and women to follow Him. Jesus Christ did not hand His disciples a manual on how to conduct a Mass. He did not give them detailed prescriptions about liturgical colours, chants, incense, or how long a service should last. Instead, He gave them Himself — His life, His words, His example, His sacrifice. Yet, as centuries rolled on, Christians, especially Catholics, became entangled in traditions, customs, and elaborate structures that often risk overshadowing the living essence of Christ’s message.

 This story is not an attempt to discard Catholic identity or belittle its rich heritage. Rather, it is a plea to rediscover what Jesus actually asked of us, and why clinging too tightly to rituals, symbols, and traditions — even when they are beautiful — can sometimes blind us to the true heart of the Gospel.

The Simplicity of Jesus’ Call

When Jesus called Peter, Andrew, James, and John, He did not invite them into a ritualistic system. He said simply: “Follow me.” Following Him meant leaving their nets, their comfort, their old way of life, and embracing a radical new existence cantered on love of God and love of neighbor.

 Jesus did not measure His followers by how perfectly they performed a ceremony. He measured them by their faith, their humility, and their love. The widow who gave two small coins was praised more highly than the rich who made grand offerings. The Good Samaritan who acted with compassion was exalted above priests and Levites who clung to purity laws but ignored mercy.

 Yet, in so many Catholic communities today, debates rage endlessly about liturgical rubrics: whether the Mass should be in Latin or vernacular, whether the priest should face the people or the altar, whether communion should be on the tongue or in the hand. Parish groups split, friendships are broken, families argue — all over matters that Christ Himself never mentioned. What does this say about where our focus has shifted?

The Weight of Human Traditions

 Jesus Himself warned His followers against elevating human traditions above God’s commandments. In Mark’s Gospel, He rebukes the Pharisees: “You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions.” These words should pierce Catholic consciences today.

 There is nothing inherently wrong with traditions. They can point us to God, enrich our worship, and root us in history. But when they become the center of our faith, when they overshadow the living Christ, they turn into stumbling blocks. Catholics may find themselves revering the structure of the Mass more than the One who is present in it. They may argue more passionately about rosary beads than about feeding the hungry. They may obsess over whether a church is built in Gothic or modern style while neglecting the broken families around them.

 What is this if not a modern form of Phariseeism — clinging to externals while forgetting mercy, compassion, and justice?

 The Danger of Idolizing Symbols

 Symbols have their place. A crucifix points us to the sacrifice of Christ. A stained-glass window can lift the mind to heaven. Vestments can remind us of sacred dignity. But when symbols themselves become idols, they distort faith.

 Consider how many Catholics feel more offended if someone does not genuflect before the tabernacle than if someone cheats the poor worker of his wages. Consider how some argue endlessly about whether Gregorian chant is superior to contemporary hymns, yet cannot muster energy to reconcile with an estranged sibling.

 Jesus did not die so that people might endlessly argue about ceremonial details. He died so that humanity could be reconciled to God and to one another. Every time Catholics fight more fiercely about incense than about injustice, about church architecture than about acts of charity, they betray the very Gospel they claim to uphold.

 The Eucharist: A Meal of Love, Not a Battlefield of Rites

 Of all Catholic traditions, the Mass is the most central. Rightly so — it commemorates the Last Supper, Christ’s self-giving on the Cross, and His resurrection presence among His people. Yet how often has this sacred gift become the center of bitter divisions?

 Some insist the Mass must be celebrated only in Latin. Others reject traditional forms and demand constant innovation. Some argue about kneeling, standing, or receiving on the tongue. Still others debate endlessly about liturgical orientation. But pause for a moment: did Jesus at the Last Supper make any of these demands?

 He took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to His disciples with the words: “This is my body.” He took the cup, gave thanks, and said: “This is my blood of the covenant, poured out for many.” His focus was on self-giving love, on remembering Him, on sharing life. It was a meal of humility, unity, and love. To weaponize the Mass as a battlefield of rites is to empty it of its true power.

 The Early Church: A Community of Faith, Not Ceremony

 The Acts of the Apostles paints a striking picture of the early Church. Believers gathered in homes, shared meals, prayed together, and sold their possessions to provide for the needy. They broke bread in joy and simplicity of heart.

 There were no cathedrals. No marble altars. No incense or vestments. Yet the Church grew explosively, transforming the Roman Empire. Why? Because people saw authentic love, unity, and courage. They saw men and women who cared for the sick during plagues, who forgave their persecutors, who shared all things in common. The early Christians attracted others not through ceremonies but through radical Christ-like living.

 This should challenge Catholics today. If the Church could grow so powerfully without elaborate rituals, why do we now sometimes cling to them as if they were the essence of faith itself?

A Faith of the Heart

The danger of overemphasizing traditions is that faith becomes external. People begin to measure holiness by attendance at devotions, by the way someone crosses themselves, or by their preference for a particular liturgical style. But Christ looks deeper. He said: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

Holiness is not about perfect ritual performance. It is about transformation of the heart. It is about forgiveness, compassion, humility, justice, and mercy. The saints the Church venerates were not saints because they defended one liturgical form over another. They were saints because they loved Christ passionately and poured themselves out for others.

Francis of Assisi stripped himself of worldly wealth to embrace the poor. Teresa of Calcutta picked up the dying from the streets. Maximilian Kolbe gave his life for another prisoner. Their holiness had little to do with ritual debates and everything to do with living the Gospel radically.

The Call to Refocus

So what should Catholics do? It is not necessary to abolish traditions. They can still inspire and guide. But they must never take the center. The focus must always be Christ Himself, His life, His teachings, His love.

Instead of fighting about how the Mass is celebrated, Catholics should ask: Am I receiving the Eucharist worthily? Is Christ transforming me into His likeness?
Instead of obsessing about the correct form of prayer, they should ask: Is my heart burning with love for God and neighbor?
Instead of arguing about sacred art or architecture, they should ask: Am I caring for the poor, the lonely, the forgotten?

Traditions can be good servants, but they are terrible masters. When they begin to master faith, they suffocate it.

Returning to the Essence

At the end of time, when we stand before God, He will not ask us whether we preferred Latin or vernacular, whether we bowed or genuflected, whether we used incense or not. He will ask us whether we loved Him with all our heart and whether we loved our neighbor as ourselves.

The danger for Catholics is not that they have too few traditions, but that they give them too much importance. Christ did not come to establish a museum of rituals. He came to set the world on fire with love.

It is time to return to the essence. To strip away the layers that distract. To remember that Christianity is not about external show but about interior transformation. To live as the first Christians did — with simplicity of heart, boldness of witness, and joy of spirit.

Conclusion: Christ Alone

The Catholic Church is rich in heritage, but heritage must never overshadow the Head of the Church, who is Christ Himself. Catholics must guard against the temptation to cling to rituals, symbols, and debates that distract from the radical call of the Gospel.

Christ alone is enough. His love is enough. His words are enough. His sacrifice is enough. Everything else — liturgy, vestments, traditions, symbols — is secondary.

Let Catholics, then, not lose themselves in defending shadows while neglecting the Light. Let them not fight over rituals while ignoring the cry of the poor. Let them not build their identity on traditions that Jesus never commanded, but on the living faith that He entrusted to His disciples: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”


 

No comments: