Tradition

Last night I was bored, so I picked up the July issue of National Geographic magazine and read an article about Transylvanian hay farmers (written by Adam Nicolson and photographed by Rena Effendi). I'm so glad I did. I was amazed by many things, such as how even the smallest children can identify 40-50 plants, and how the women devote hundreds of hours a year to making traditional embroidered clothing for their families. But, what struck me the most about these people is the way they value tradition.

Tradition defines them: the way they work, eat, dress, celebrate, and worship. They live a liturgical life, one that is imbued with meaning. 

"It is our land," Anuta Borca, a young mother from Breb, insisted to me about her family meadows. "We have to take care of it. We have to teach the children the traditions. And teach them something that allows them to survive if they have no job." She paused from the embroidery she was making on a linen shirt for her son. "It's important because tradition is a treasure. If they learn it, they will be richer."

Tonia has been writing lately, about the challenge of clearing her life of clutter. I immediately related to her posts! All over the internet and in every lifestyle magazine we read about ways to simplify life and eliminate clutter, yet almost everyone I know is unhappy about the amount of stuff they have in their homes, their hearts, and their heads.

This week I read Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Even though this story was written over a century ago, it is still wholly applicable today. The culture Tolstoy described is the same that exists in every contemporary city. It is just the same. Tolstoy provided a subtle contrast between the lives of the cultured people and a young peasant man fresh from the countryside.It is implied that the young man understood something about life that eluded the cultured folk.

Suddenly, I understand something. We clutter up our lives in an effort to replace what no longer exists in our culture: tradition--identity, worth, meaning.

Cities are the same everywhere; they are the great homogenizers. They are our centers of cultural progress. And, progress hinges on change--the constant push forward and away from the past and tradition.

One woman she (Ms. Effendi) photographed, Maria, 23, was pregnant and working in the field when they met. She spoke more English than most villagers and told Ms. Effendi that she and her husband had spent a year in France, where he worked in construction. But she missed their home in the fields, and they returned.

In Maramures, Maria told Ms. Effendi, she has room for activity of the mind. People in France were preoccupied with the daily distractions of urban life, and they didn’t have any room left for “beautiful thoughts.” (A Fairy Tale in Transylvania: NYTimes Lens)

Our culture insists that life consists of shiny new things and experiences. If we have the right wall color, the right kitchen, the right stuff, the right clothes, food, music, books, &c. then our lives will be better--they will finally have the worth and meaning we seek. (Of course, next year, we'll need to replace all those things because they won't do it anymore.)

I found another lady in Breb one day, Ileana Pop, embroidering a linen shirt for her son-in-law. Where, I asked, did the patterns come from? "Oh," she said casually, "they come from the beginning of the world. But we mix old patterns with our new ideas. We never leave the style. We just play with the style."

Here is a two minute Nat Geo video of daily life in Transylvania:

I am reminded of this verse from Jeremiah 6:16:
This is what the LORD says: "Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, 'We will not walk in it.'