Christian tradition is not a lifeless relic of the past, nor a collection of customs destined to decay. No, it is something far more dynamic and alive. “Christian tradition, unlike all others, is a living and perpetual revolution.” [1] This revolution is not about discarding what came before but about allowing the ever-renewing life of the Spirit to continually break forth from our ancient roots. Unlike the shifting ideologies of the world, which rise and fall with time, this tradition carries the breath of God Himself (2 Timothy 1:13-14), always calling us back to the core of our being. It is a revolution not of violence but of love, not of destruction but of transformation—a ceaseless turning toward the source of life.
The living tradition of Catholicism is not an ornament or an accessory to faith. It is vital and life-giving, as necessary to the Church as breath is to the human body. “The living Tradition of Catholicism is like the breath of a physical body. It renews life by repelling stagnation.” [1] Just as breathing in fresh air revives and restores, the tradition of the Church continually dispels the toxins of spiritual complacency and falsehood (John 6:63). Without it, the Church would suffocate under the weight of human error and drift into lifelessness. The Spirit, working through tradition, keeps the flame of divine truth burning within us, ensuring that our faith remains alive, active, and uncompromised (Acts 2:42).
This tradition is not a human invention, subject to alteration or decay. It is nothing less than the life of God entrusted to His Church. “The life of the Church is the Truth of God Himself, breathed out into the Church by His Spirit, and there cannot be any other truth to supersede and replace it.” [1] The world is full of passing ideologies, but the truth revealed in Christ remains unshakable (Hebrews 13:8). We are not tasked with finding new truths but with entering ever more deeply into the one Truth that has been revealed from the beginning (Jude 1:3). It is not the Church’s duty to evolve with the spirit of the age but to remain faithful to the Spirit of God (Galatians 1:8).
When the Church faces crises—when confusion reigns and faith wavers—the solution is never to abandon tradition but to return to it with greater intensity. “The constant human tendency away from God and away from this living tradition can only be counteracted by a return to tradition, a renewal and a deepening of the one unchanging life that was infused into the Church at the beginning.” [1] Humanity is forever tempted to seek novelty, to trust in progress or ideology rather than in the eternal Word (Jeremiah 6:16). Yet true renewal, true reform, never comes from chasing the winds of culture. It comes from rediscovering the fullness of what has already been given—returning to the living waters that have always flowed from Christ through His Church (Revelation 2:4-5).
This revolution—the Christian revolution—is unlike anything the world has ever known. It is more complete, more radical than any political or social upheaval. “This is the most complete revolution that has ever been preached; in fact, it is the only true revolution, because all the others demand the extermination of somebody else, but this one means the death of the man who, for all practical purposes, you have come to think of as your own self.” [1] Every worldly revolution seeks to overthrow enemies and seize power, but the Christian revolution demands something far more profound: the death of self (Matthew 16:24-25). It calls for the surrender of ego, pride, and every false identity we have built. Here, the enemy to be conquered is not another person, but the sinful self within us (Romans 6:6).
The revolutions of this world are shallow imitations of change. They tear down and rebuild, but they leave the human heart untouched. “The ideology of political revolution will never change anything except appearances.” [1] Systems may shift, rulers may come and go, but human greed, hatred, and corruption persist (Ecclesiastes 1:9). True transformation cannot come from human hands alone (Psalm 146:3). Only when the heart is made new by the Spirit of God can the world itself be renewed (Ezekiel 36:26).
What, then, can bring about real justice in the world? Not ideology. Not politics. But only the power that flows from Christ through His living tradition. “The only influence that can really upset the injustice and iniquity of men is the power that breathes in Christian tradition, renewing our participation in the Life that is the Light of men.” [1] Real justice is born from the conversion of hearts, and only the life of Christ, alive in His Church, can accomplish that (John 1:4-5). Without this inner transformation, even the best intentions turn into new forms of domination and cruelty (Micah 6:8). The Church, empowered by her living tradition, is the wellspring from which the world’s healing can flow (Isaiah 58:10-12).
This is why the authority of the Church, often misunderstood or resisted, is in fact a profound gift. The saints, those who reached the deepest intimacy with God, did not do so in spite of the Church’s authority but because of it. “The saints arrived at the deepest and most vital and also the most individual and personal knowledge of God precisely because of the Church’s teaching authority.” [1] Far from stifling personal faith, the Church’s teachings provide the structure that allows souls to grow freely toward God (Ephesians 4:11-16). Without it, we would be lost in a fog of confusion and error (2 Peter 1:20-21). Doctrine is not a prison; it is a path. It guards us from falsehood and guides us into the fullness of truth (John 8:31-32).
Moreover, theology—the careful study and understanding of this truth—is not a dry intellectual exercise. It is a path to contemplation. “The understanding of dogma is the proximate and ordinary way to contemplation.” [1] True theology is not about arguments and abstractions but about being drawn into the mystery of God (Psalm 119:105). When the mind is illuminated by the light of divine truth, the heart is opened to a deeper experience of God’s presence (Colossians 2:2-3). Thus, theology and contemplation are not rivals but companions on the same journey: the journey into God (Proverbs 2:3-5).
And yet, even as we pursue this understanding, we must remember that the ultimate goal is not knowledge but union. We seek not only to know about God but to be known by Him, not only to possess truth but to be possessed by it. “Here the Truth is One Whom we not only know and possess but by Whom we are known and possessed.” [1] In the end, the doctrines we study, the truths we defend, and the prayers we utter are meant to bring us to the feet of the One who is Truth itself (1 Corinthians 13:12). This is why even the greatest theologians, like Thomas Aquinas, confessed that all their words were but straw before the face of the living God (Philippians 3:8). In that final encounter, words fall silent, and only love remains (1 John 4:16).
[1] Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation