12 Ways High Church Tradition May Conflict with the Gospel20 min read

High church traditions—prevalent in Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and some Anglican, Episcopalian, Lutheran, and Presbyterian circles—bring a layered heritage of liturgy, sacraments, and ecclesiastical authority to Christianity. Yet, these practices often stand accused of veering from the Gospel: the proclamation of salvation by grace through faith in Christ’s completed atonement. Jesus himself critiqued traditions that overshadow God’s Word, as seen in this pointed charge against the Pharisees:

Neglecting the commandment of God, you hold to the tradition of men (Mark 7:8-9 NASB)

This warning resonates today. Below, I explore high church doctrines that probably distort the Gospel’s clarity or biblical orthodoxy’s reliance on scripture first, over tradition, experience, and reason. (See The Wesleyan Quadrangle for a discussion of how those work together, better than merely Sola Scriptura). ¹ While these beliefs don’t necessarily eject someone from Christianity, they can impose suffering—guilt, legalism, or confusion—erecting barriers to the Gospel’s reasonableness and hindering a direct relationship with God rooted in His Word. Additionally, while some of these traditions have some weak Biblical support or allusions, many are extra biblical and have no direct scriptural support. Perhaps the most concerning tradition that diverts attention from Christ is the excessive focus on saints, particularly Mary.

1. Veneration of Saints

Catholics pray to saints, especially Mary, as intercessors, drawing from the “communion of saints” and patristic tradition. Yet Paul’s theology allows no rivals to Christ’s mediation:

For there is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus. (1 Timothy 2:5 NIV)

This challenges the Gospel by adding mediators that dilute Christ’s exclusive role, a cornerstone of orthodoxy (John 14:6, NIV: “I am the way and the truth and the life”). Prayers to saints, often accompanied by images, flirt with idolatry (Exodus 20:4-5, NIV), shifting trust from God’s sufficiency to human figures. The Gospel’s promise of direct access to the Father through the Son (Hebrews 4:16, NIV) gets muddled, fostering dependence on a celestial beings rather than Christ. “He’s too busy to be bothered” is not a gospel perspective. This elevation of Mary and the saints to near-divine status represents one of the most significant departures from biblical teaching, a problem that becomes even more pronounced in specific Marian doctrines.

2. Mariology

Marian dogmas (immaculate conception, assumption) exalt Mary beyond scripture. But Paul keeps Christ supreme:

The Son is the image of the invisible God… For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things. (Colossians 1:15-20 NIV)

Mariology challenges the Gospel by ascribing quasi-divine status to Mary, unsupported by apostolic witness (Luke 1:47, NIV: Mary needs a Savior). Scripture centers reconciliation on Christ alone; Mariology risks a co-redemptrix narrative, confusing the Gospel’s exclusive focus and diluting faith in Christ with extra mediators. See Mary the “Mother of God” and other Marian idolatries. ²

3. Purgatory

Purgatory posits a post-mortem purification for the saved, rooted in 2 Maccabees, 1 Corinthians 3:13-15’s “fire” imagery, and a literal reading of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31). Paul, however, anchors complete cleansing elsewhere:

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV)

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace. (Ephesians 1:7 NIV)

Purgatory undermines the Gospel’s sufficiency—Christ’s once-for-all atonement (Hebrews 10:10, NIV)—by implying further cleansing is needed, a works-like burden on grace. Orthodoxy holds that justification is complete at faith (Romans 5:1, NIV); purgatory introduces an unbiblical limbo, clashing with the immediacy of “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8, NIV). It risks confusing believers with a tiered afterlife absent from scriptural teaching.

There are protestants who believe the doctrine of purgatory, such as Jerry Walls in this book Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. ³ Additionally, the stalwart Anglican apologist C.S. Lewis also believed in purgatory. ⁴ But the concept of purgatory not only defies and obfuscates the gospel, it opens the door to another problematic practice: the selling of indulgences to reduce time spent there.

4. Indulgences

Indulgences, historically tied to alms or penance to reduce purgatorial suffering, may persist in modified form. But if Christ’s ransom was total, indulgences challenge the Gospel by suggesting human acts supplement it, contradicting “justified freely by his grace” (Romans 3:24, NIV). Orthodox soteriology rejects add-ons to atonement; indulgences revive a transactional theology akin to the Law’s yoke (Galatians 5:1, NIV), burdening believers with a merit system that the cross abolished. Historically, this sparked the Reformation’s sola fide cry.

The Dominican Johan Tetzel (1465-1519) was infamous for selling such indulgences, to the point that a rhyme was attributed to him (but probably created by those mocking his unashamed simonyBuying or selling of ecclesiastical privileges, offices, sacraments, or sacred things, especially in exchange for money. The term comes from Simon Magus, a sorcerer mentioned in Acts 8:18–20, who attempted to buy the power of the Holy Spirit from the apostles. Historically, simony has been condemned by the Church as a grave sin. It was particularly relevant during the medieval period, when church offices, indulgences, and even relics were sometimes sold for financial gain. The Third Lateran Council (1179) and other church councils explicitly outlawed simony, though enforcement varied. More:

When a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs.

In modern Catholic practice, a contemporary equivalent of indulgences can be found in prayers to Mary and the saints that are believed to reduce time in purgatory. The Handbook of Indulgences, officially published by the Vatican, explicitly states:

The faithful who recite the Marian Rosary may gain a plenary indulgence which is granted if the Rosary is recited in a church or public oratory or in a family group, a religious community or pious association; a partial indulgence is granted in other circumstances… To gain a plenary indulgence it is necessary to fulfill the following three conditions: sacramental confession, Eucharistic Communion, and prayer for the intention of the Sovereign Pontiff. A plenary indulgence can be gained only once a day. (Enchiridion Indulgentiarum, 4th edition, 2004, N. 17) ⁵

This official teaching demonstrates how the Catholic Church continues to promote practices that suggest Christ’s work on the cross was insufficient, requiring supplementary devotional actions to fully cleanse believers from the temporal punishments due to sin. Such teachings fundamentally contradict the biblical assertion that “by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy” (Hebrews 10:14, NIV). This transactional view of salvation reflects a broader understanding of how grace is mediated through sacramental systems.

5. Sacramental Salvation

High church traditions often imply or teach that Sacraments are channels of saving grace (John 3:5). Paul counters:

For we maintain that a person is justified by faith apart from the works of the law. (Romans 3:28 NIV)

There is some discussion about whether “works of the law” merely refers to keeping the Jewish law or also includes moral and ceremonial rules as a means to salvation, but I think the more inclusive definition fits here – any act that brings salvation other than faith in Christ is anathema to the gospel. Mediating ceremonies or sacraments may impart some grace or effect, but not salvation or regeneration.

Faith alone justifies (Galatians 2:16, NIV). Scripture rejects works as salvific; tying grace to rites like baptism or penance imposes a legalistic framework, confusing believers with a system where God’s free gift (Romans 6:23, NIV) seems earned, not received. This sacramental framework is particularly evident in the Catholic understanding of the Eucharist.

6. Sacrificial Eucharist: The Mass and Transubstantiation

The Catholic Mass “re-presents” Christ’s sacrifice, making it present through transubstantiation, where bread and wine become Christ’s literal body and blood (John 6:53-56). The priest offers this to God, and the congregation receives it for spiritual nourishment. Hebrews, however, declares Christ’s sacrifice complete:

He sacrificed for their sins once for all when he offered himself. (Hebrews 7:27 NIV)

Jesus cast the Lord’s Supper as remembrance:

This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me. (Luke 22:19 NIV)

This repeated sacrificial understanding conflicts with the Gospel’s finality—Christ’s “It is finished” (John 19:30, NIV)—implying an ongoing propitiation that Hebrews 10:18 (NIV) denies: “there is no longer any sacrifice for sin.” The doctrine of transubstantiation makes a physical act partly salvific, beyond faith in the historical cross (1 Corinthians 15:3-4, NIV). Scripture favors a symbolic Lord’s Supper; transubstantiation’s metaphysical claim lacks clear apostolic warrant, potentially idolizing elements over the spiritual reality they signify.

Of course, there are nuances that create positions between transubstantiation and mere memorialism, e.g. consubstantiation and real presence, but the extreme of transubstantiation seems a tradition that conflicts with the gospel by adding to Christ’s work. This sacramental approach to salvation is also evident in infant baptism practices. ^{6 7}

7. Paedobaptism

Infant baptism, justified by tradition and appeals to household salvation in Acts 2:39, divorces baptism from faith. Acts 8:36-38 (NIV) shows baptism following belief. Paedobaptism challenges the Gospel by decoupling it from personal faith—central to “repent and be baptized” (Acts 2:38, NIV)—and assumes regeneration via ritual, not confession (Romans 10:9, NIV).

While a child may be protected under the auspices of their parent’s federal headship and faith, as an unbelieving spouse is (1 Corinthians 7:14), baptism adds nothing to that. The households in Acts never mention infants getting baptized, only entire households who may have all come to faith consciously as adults or children. Jesus, however, links baptism to faith:

Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. (Mark 16:16 NIV)

Scripture demands a believer’s church; infants can’t profess faith, and paedobaptism risks obscuring the gospel through downplaying individual faith, as does baptismal regeneration. This reliance on human intermediaries extends to other practices like mandatory holy days and observances.

8. Holy Days and Sabbaths

Mandatory feasts and sabbaths mark high church calendars. Paul, however, liberates us from both the business and necessity of slavery to rituals to maintain our standing with God:

Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ. (Colossians 2:16-17 NIV)

Event-based traditions can have meaning, powerful symbolism, and opportunities for faith and service for Christians, but observations like Lent also challenge orthodoxy by reimposing the shadows of the law the Gospel fulfills (Hebrews 10:1, NIV). Rituals are inherently dangerous, implying both righteousness for participants and guilt for those who miss them, and contradict the freedom we have in Christ (Galatians 5:1, NIV), confusing believers with Old Covenant echoes when the New points to Him alone. These ritual requirements are often justified by appealing to papal authority and church tradition.

9. Papal Authority, Tradition, and Apostolic Succession

The Pope and Magisterium claim parity with scripture, citing Matthew 16:18. Paul, however, guards the Gospel’s purity and elevates scripture’s role:

But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse! (Galatians 1:8 NIV)

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. (2 Timothy 3:16-17 NIV)

Elevating Church teachings and traditions to scripture’s level, as Jesus warned in Mark 7, risks nullifying God’s Word with human accretions that contradict the gospel.

The Reformers responded to this corruption with the cry Sola Scriptura, but this hyperbolic cry tended towards another error, that of entirely removing tradition from our sources of authority in the Christian life. Thankfully, the counter reform movement and Arminians like John Wesley corrected that error with Wesley’s Quadrangle, which puts scripture up top, informed by tradition, reason, and experience. ⁸

The Papacy and Catholic church also claim authority through apostolic succession, grounded in the keys of the kingdom given to Peter. But Paul the Apostle denied this source of authority, at least for himself, citing divine commission:

This letter is from Paul, an apostle. I was not appointed by any group of people or any human authority, but by Jesus Christ himself and by God the Father, who raised Jesus from the dead. (Galatians 1:1 NLT)

His authority stemmed directly from God, not apostolic conferral, clashing with the idea that ministry must flow through a lineage. Apostolic succession is based on a fallible institution or succession rather than the Spirit’s universal priesthood and commissioning:

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. (1 Peter 2:9 NIV)

This succession obscures the Gospel’s directness—salvation and authority flow from Christ, not mediated tradition—confusing believers with an ecclesiastical ladder instead of the Spirit’s leveling grace. This questionable authority extends to practices like priestly confession.

10. Confession to Priests

Absolution via priestly confession cites John 20:23. John, however, declares that we now have a direct line to God for confession and forgiveness, removing such mediators:

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9 NIV)

Confession to priests challenges the Gospel by inserting a human mediator where Christ’s priesthood suffices (Hebrews 4:14-16, NIV). Scripture affirms direct access; including priestly confession removes the impetus for individuals to come to God, and undermines the believer’s confidence in God’s unmediated grace and relationship.
Notice that James does encourage us to confess our sins to one another, but not for forgiveness, but for healing in the community of God:

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. (James 5:16 NIV)

This practice of confession to priests is supported by an elaborate system of clerical vestments that harkens back to Old Testament temple worship rather than New Testament simplicity.

11. Vestments and Robes: Old Testament Pageantry

Elaborate vestments, robes, and clerical garb in high church traditions mirror the ornate clothing prescribed for Old Testament priests (Exodus 28:2-43). These visual symbols of hierarchical authority and sacred distinction separate clergy from laity. Yet the New Testament presents a stark contrast:

Do not be like the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. (Mark 12:38-39 NIV)

Jesus warned against religious leaders who use clothing to establish status and prominence. The early church shows no evidence of special clerical garments—instead, leadership was recognized by character, gifting, and service. Paul’s qualifications for elders and deacons (1 Timothy 3:1-13) focus entirely on moral character and spiritual maturity, never mentioning vestments or ceremonial attire.

Elaborate vestments challenge the Gospel by visually reinforcing a clergy-laity division that the New Testament abolished. They create artificial spiritual distinctions, potentially intimidating believers from approaching God directly, implying that their access to God must be limited. Such pageantry better fits the shadow of Old Testament worship than the substance found in Christ, where all believers are “clothed with Christ” (Galatians 3:27) as their only necessary spiritual garment. This visual reinforcement of clerical distinction complements the broader establishment of a priestly caste system.

12. Priestly Caste vs. New Testament Ministry

High church traditions establish a clerical priesthood, distinct from laity, to perform sacred rites—echoing Old Testament Levitical mediators (Leviticus 16:32, NIV). Scripture, however, redefines ministry under Christ’s new covenant:

But because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them. (Hebrews 7:24-25 NIV):

This priesthood of Christ dismantles the need for a clerical priesthood, yet high church priests act as conduits for sacraments and forgiveness, implying their mediatory authority and necessity. The New Testament shifts to a five-fold ministry—apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Ephesians 4:11-12, NIV)—and elders (Titus 1:5, NIV), equipping all believers, not a caste for service. Peter universalizes this:

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. (1 Peter 2:9 NIV)

Old Testament priestly activities—sacrifices, temple rites—find fulfillment in Christ (Hebrews 10:11-12, NIV), rendering them obsolete. A clerical priesthood challenges the Gospel by resurrecting a mediatorial system the cross abolished, suggesting we need more than Jesus to approach God. John’s encouragement seals this:

For there is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus. (1 Timothy 2:5)

Even more, the Spirit, not priests, is our primary guide and teacher in the New Testament, per Johannine theology.

As for you, the anointing you received from him remains in you, and you do not need anyone to teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about all things and as that anointing is real, not counterfeit—just as it has taught you, remain in him. (1 John 2:27 NIV)

Orthodoxy affirms this priesthood of all believers and leaders and teachers in the Church, but a clerical caste risks enslaving the church to human authority, confusing the Gospel’s direct access with an outdated shadow.

12.1 The Word Priest is a Problem

The English word “priest” doesn’t justify this clerical role. In Greek, the Old Testament priest—hiereus (e.g., Hebrews 7:1, NIV)—derives from a distinct root unrelated to poimēn, the New Testament word for pastor or shepherd (Ephesians 4:11, NIV). High church traditions sometimes lean on the English “priest” evolving from the Old English preost, tied to the Greek presbyteros (elder, Titus 1:5, NIV), to blur lines between elder and priestly roles.
This is an etymological fallacy—judging a word’s meaning by its historical origin rather than biblical usage. Presbyteros denotes oversight, not mediation; conflating it with hiereus-style priesthood misreads scripture, further entrenching a clerical system at odds with the Gospel’s leveling of access to God.

Conclusion: Scripture Over Tradition

The Gospel thrives in simplicity. I challenge you: prioritize scripture over ritual. Ask yourself, what would happen to me if I did not take part in the sacraments? Would you lose your salvation?

Not all sacraments or even regular remembrances and orders of worship are wrong, but those that obscure or seem to add to the gospel should be abandoned. We can cling to the sacraments of believer’s baptism (Acts 2:41, NIV), the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:23-25, NIV), and marriage (Ephesians 5:25-32, NIV) – biblical acts of faith that recall or affirm the gospel rather than replacing or adding to it. Discard traditions that cloud the Word and the gospel. Test all against scripture, embracing the Gospel’s core: grace through faith, not rites, in a direct walk with God.

These doctrines don’t inherently expel one from Christianity—faith in Christ can endure alongside them. Yet, they can inflict guilt from ritual failure, confuse with unbiblical complexity, or obscure the Gospel’s rational appeal, as Jesus warned in Mark 7:8-9 (NIV). Tradition over scripture risks distancing believers from God’s unadorned truth.