“Traditions of Love” 2 Thess. 2.1-17 Pent. 22C Nov. ‘25
1. Please pray with me. May the words of my mouth and the mediation of our hearts, be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer. Amen. The message from God’s Word today on this 22nd Sunday after Pentecost is taken from 2 Thess. 1.1-8, 13-17, and is entitled, “Traditions of Love,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.
2. If you’ve ever seen Fiddler on the Roof, you’ll remember the opening scene—Tevye, standing proudly yet precariously on that thatched rooftop, balancing himself while a fiddler plays a haunting tune. I don’t know about you, but just standing on a chair to change a lightbulb feels risky enough—imagine doing it on a roof while holding a violin! Tevye explains that life in his little village of Anatevka is as uncertain and risky as a fiddler on the roof. What keeps them steady, he says, is one word—Tradition! Tradition gives rhythm to life—birth, marriage, death—and holds a community together. But as Tevye admits, it’s precarious. One wrong step, one broken string, and the balance is lost.
3. And that’s true for us too, isn’t it? Our families, our churches, our faith all rely on what’s handed down—on what we might call “holy habits.” And yet, like the fiddler’s tune, those traditions are fragile. They can be lost in a single generation if they are not cherished and shared. It’s like trying to keep a stack of pancakes from toppling, or balancing a laundry basket on your head while carrying a toddler—one wrong move and it’s chaos!
4. In our Epistle reading today, St. Paul sounds a little like Tevye. He says to the Christians in Thessalonica: “So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.” (2 Thess. 2:15) Paul knows that the Christian life is precarious. The Thessalonian believers were being shaken by false teachers who claimed that the “Day of the Lord” had already come. They were anxious, uncertain, maybe even fearful. Paul steadies them with what he had passed down—the Word of Christ crucified and risen, the truth of God’s saving love.
5. God encourages us not to leave our traditions. Paul reminds the Thessalonians—and us—that the apostolic tradition is not something we can outgrow or move past. “Stand firm,” he says, “and hold fast.” There’s a temptation in every generation to think we’ve advanced beyond the old ways—to believe we can modernize the message, loosen the doctrines, streamline the liturgy, and still keep the faith intact. But when we set aside the traditions of Christ’s Word, we lose our footing. Next thing you know, someone suggests worship via TikTok dances… I’m not sure Moses had that in mind!
6. Our Lutheran forefathers understood that. The Augsburg Confession begins with the words, “Our churches teach…”—not “Our churches invent,” or “Our churches innovate,” but teach what we have received. Traditions that come from the apostles are not chains that bind us—they are roots that hold us firm when the winds of culture blow. They are how the Church remembers who she is and whose she is.
7. God encourages us not to love our traditions more than Him. But there’s another danger: loving the tradition itself more than the Lord who gave it. Isaiah warned God’s people that they were still keeping the feasts, burning incense, and offering sacrifices—but their hearts were far from Him. Jesus said the same to the Pharisees: “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.” (Mark 7:8)
8. There’s the tightrope again—the fiddler’s peril. It’s one thing to treasure tradition as a means of grace and order; it’s another to worship the tradition itself. Maybe you’ve seen it happen in a church—where the question “Why do we do it this way?” is met not with “Because it points us to Christ,” but “Because we’ve always done it this way.” Tradition without love becomes performance. It’s possible to sing the hymns, recite the liturgy, even sit through a sermon, and forget the One who’s speaking through it all.
9. God encourages us to practice traditions of His love. So, what does Paul commend to us? Not the abandonment of tradition, not the idolizing of it—but the practice of traditions rooted in God’s love. Listen to how Paul frames it: “God chose you from the beginning to be saved, through sanctification by the Spirit and belief in the truth… so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (vv. 13–14)
10. That’s the heartbeat of all true Christian tradition—God’s saving action in Christ. His love handed down, generation after generation, through the Word and Sacraments, through parents teaching children, through the Church gathered around font, pulpit, and altar. That’s why we light candles, sing hymns, confess creeds, kneel in prayer, and hear the Scriptures read aloud. Each of these is a small echo of the great symphony of grace that began when Christ rose from the grave.
11. Traditions like these are not empty rituals; they’re reminders of God’s living presence. They weave His love into the rhythm of our days. Bud lost his wife two years ago —maybe you know someone like him. After his wife passed away, he felt like half of him was gone. But every afternoon, he started sitting in her favorite chair with one of her devotional books and a cup of coffee. It became his quiet time with the Lord. He never set out to start a “tradition,” but that small act became one—a daily practice of love, remembrance, and faith.
12. That’s what Paul means. Christian traditions are not about clinging to the past for comfort—they are about letting the love of Christ fill our present and shape our future. So today, dear friends in Christ, God encourages us: Not to leave our traditions, for they ground us in the truth. Not to love our traditions more than God, for they are only means to His grace. But to practice traditions of His love—traditions that reflect His mercy, His forgiveness, His life-giving Word.
13. Like the fiddler on the roof, we balance precariously in this world. But, the song that keeps us steady is the melody of Christ’s love—a song passed down through Word and Sacrament, through the communion of saints, through every generation until the day we join the heavenly chorus. And on that day, the fiddler’s tune will no longer be precarious. It will be perfect harmony—when all God’s people, of every time and tradition, sing together: “From God can nothing move me!” “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.” Until then, stand firm. Hold fast. Practice traditions of His love. Now the peace of God that passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until life everlasting. Amen.