Preconceptions
Matthew 21:23-27
Rev. Jeanne Thomas
Preached September 28, 2008
“Who gave you this authority?” the religious
leaders wanted to know. Jesus had
arrived in Jerusalem the day before, amid throngs of people waving palm
branches and shouting “Hosanna.” And he was riding a donkey, as Old Testament
kings did on their way to a coronation, and as the prophet Zechariah had
prophesied that the Messiah would do.
None of this was lost on the chief priests,
the scribes, the Pharisees, who were all there in the temple as Jesus was
teaching. They all knew what the scriptures said. And they had watched as Jesus
overturned tables in the temple, healed the sick, forgave sins. But on whose
authority was he doing these things?
The word authority comes from the Greek word
exousia, which is authority that is granted by someone else. The Jewish
religious leaders were granted their authority by the Sanhedrin who ordained
them and authorized them to exercise religious rituals and teach the
scriptures. But the Sanhedrin hadn’t ordained Jesus. He had no degrees, held no
offices, had no worldly power in any sense of the word. He was just a
carpenter’s son from Nazareth.
Several years ago, Gracia Grindal, a
professor of rhetoric at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN, imagined how Jesus
would do if he appeared before a group like our Presbytery’s Committee on
Preparation for Ministry, who determines an individual’s fitness for ministry.
Perhaps they would say something like this:
“The candidate seems to have real trouble with authority. We recommend that he be sent to a counselor to work on these issues before he goes any further in the call process. There are repeated instances of rebellion in his history. He was known to be impertinent to his elders as far back as age 12, when he argued a fine theological point with them in the temple. Furthermore, he clearly has anger management issues —It is reported that he entered a church and threw out the people selling souvenirs and candles.” And he seems to disrespect any religious authority figure and could be a real aggravation during Presbytery meetings. He’s certainly not a team player. We believe he has a long way to go before he’d be ready to lead a church. [adapted from The Christian Century, 9/11/2002]
Interesting, how our preconceptions can blur our vision. There’s a great story about Rosalind Russell who was aboard a cruise ship, sitting next to a man she had never met before. He was sneezing and coughing and clearly feeling miserable. So she took it upon herself to give him some advice: “Sir, you should drink lots of liquids and take lots of Vitamin C and get plenty of rest—you’ll feel much better tomorrow. At first, he didn’t say anything. So with more authority, she said: “I guarantee you, if you follow my prescription you’ll feel much better. Oh, and I should have introduced myself. I’m Rosalind Russell, the actress.” “How do you do?” the man said. “I’m Charles Mayo, and I run the Mayo Clinic.”
The religious leaders thought they had all the answers, and this upstart from Nazareth was a thorn in their side. He was challenging their views, hurting their reputation, swaying popular opinion, and teaching as though he knew more than they did. Their clerical position and power were being threatened, and they didn’t like it.
Authority? They had it, or so they thought, and felt justified asking Jesus why he thought he had it, too.
But in traditional rabbinical fashion, Jesus answers their question with a question of his own: Did John’s baptism come from Heaven, or was it of human origin? In other words, he was questioning their understanding of divine authority versus human authority. If they answered that John’s ministry was of human origin, they would offend all of the Jews who believed John to be a prophet sent from God. If they answered that John’s ministry was of God, then people would want to know why they, the religious leaders, had chosen not to follow him. There was no good way to answer Jesus’ question, and they knew it. So they remained silent instead.
And their silence convicted them. For Jesus knew that their authority was fragile at best. Human authority, no matter how well trained and educated it may be, is still the result of raw power. If you have enough power, people, and money behind you, you can wield authority over others. But such authority is easily fractured by a turn in the economy, a change in the political landscape, or by those who are backed by more power, people or money.
A government surveyor brought his equipment to a farm and asked permission to go into one of the fields and take readings. The farmer objected, fearing that the survey was the first step toward construction of a highway through his land. The surveyor whipped out an official government document which authorized him to do the survey. "This paper says I have the authority to enter any field in the entire country to take necessary readings."
Faced with such imposing authority, the farmer opened the gate and allowed the surveyor to enter the field. Then he went to the far end of the field and opened another gate, through which one of his fiercest bulls came charging. Seeing the bull, the surveyor dropped his equipment and began to run for his life. The farmer yelled after him, “Just show him the paper!”
The religious leaders wanted to hold onto the authority they had and wield it over others, and they weren’t about to accept Jesus’ authority at face value. They wanted proof. They wanted to see his papers. Who gave Jesus this authority to teach in the temple, or to condemn them and the religious systems they enforced? What were his credentials?
But Jesus knew he needed none. For divine authority is authority that gives up human interest and control, and empties itself and becomes a servant instead. Human power and money and education no longer matter under this kind of authority. Earlier in Matthew, a Centurion recognized this and he said that he, too was a man under authority, only his authority was granted by the Roman empire. But he knew that Jesus’ authority was granted from above, and all it took was a single word from him to heal his valued servant. He knew intuitively that we have more authority, not less, when we submit to Divine authority. For then our authority is rooted and grounded in the power and mercy of God.
It’s ironic that those who should have recognized Jesus’ authority were blind to it. They just couldn’t wrap their minds around a God who acted differently than they thought God should. They had spent their lives placing God into respectable and predictable categories and wanted faith to be orderly and structured – where everything was solid, secure, bolted-down.
They wanted to keep God at arm’s length and certainly didn’t want God to be right there in the temple with them, challenging them on their understanding of who God was and of their relationship to him. They wanted a God who was even more Presbyterian than we are – who did everything decently and in order, and never, ever did something unpredictable or inexplicable.
But Jesus knew that isn’t who God is. And that their distorted and fragmented view of God needed to be transformed if they were ever to understand who he was. He knew we can opt to see only that which confirms our preconceptions, if we choose. And we can become anesthetized by the familiar. But what makes us Christian is the act of trusting Jesus with our life; of letting go and taking a leap of faith and making him Lord of our lives.
A pastor went to Germany on a pulpit exchange, and discovered that there is no German word that means “Lord.” The word “Herr” can mean master, or sir, or even Mister, but that’s as close as it comes. He conveyed to his congregation his disappointment in having to refer to Jesus as a “Mister.” But a student in the congregation interrupted him. “You’re right,” he said. “We Germans don’t have a word for Lord, but you Americans may as well not have one. You’ve forgotten what it means.”
What would it look like for us to make Jesus Christ the Lord of our life? And to place ourselves under Divine authority? Perhaps Paul puts it best when he says: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” Hard to do, isn’t it?
And that’s where the religious leaders got stuck. They were far too settled in a faith that was structured and predictable, and far too reluctant to give up whatever power they had been granted by a corrupt religious institution.
But how about us? How willing are we to give up any human authority we may have? How ready are we to allow Christ’s authority to make a claim on our lives? It is only as we lose our lives for Christ’s sake that we ultimately gain it.
But in the end, we have gained everything. Amen.
O Lord, we come to you now aware that, although we SAY you are Lord, we haven’t always made you the Lord of our lives. Forgive us and remove all that stands in our way of placing ourselves under your authority. Help us to take that leap of faith to make you the owner and manager of what rightfully belongs to you—our hearts, our minds, our souls, our all. For we pray as we would live, in the name of Jesus Christ, the servant and Savior of us all. Amen.