On Whose Authority?
Sermon
Recently, we had a moving and impressive confirmation service at a local church. Twenty three people were confirmed into the Church of England, and one person was received into the Church of England from the Roman Catholic Church. Interestingly, the presiding bishop said that the Church of England recognises and accepts the orders of other churches.
But this is not so the other way round. The Roman Catholic Church is still unable to accept the orders of ordained clergy from most other churches, including the Church of England. The underlying issue, of course, is that of authority.
Authority seems to be such an important issue in life, and gives a useful and secure framework in which to operate. If there was no authority, we'd soon reach a terrifying state of anarchy and total chaos.
But there are times when authority can perhaps be somewhat stifling. Times when it can take such rigid control that there's no space for vision, and growth is suffocated, as people in parts of Europe found under communist rule, and as people who live under some sort of dictatorship continue to find.
John the Baptist came up against authority at a very early stage of his ministry. He had begun to preach and to baptise, and the crowds were flocking to him. But as so often happens, he was seen as a threat by the religious leaders of the day, the Pharisees. So they sent a delegation to ask him: "Who are you? Who do you think you are?"
John refused to answer directly, which is quite a good way of dealing with those who try to pull rank. The obvious answer would have been: "I'm John, son of Zechariah and Elizabeth. I live at ... wherever. For a living I do... such and such a job. I've spent a number of years alone in the wilderness training for this task."
But that would have been instantly submitting to this somewhat spurious authority. So John skipped that part and instead went straight to the anxieties behind the question. "Don't worry," he said (in effect). "I'm not the Christ. I'm no threat to your high office."
But they weren't satisfied. They needed something positive to take back to those who had sent them. So they said: "Well who are you then? Are you Elijah, the one who's expected to return to announce the coming of the Messiah?"
"No, I'm not him either." Although John does appear to model himself on Elijah, in the way that he dresses, and in his familiarity with the wilderness. But it seems John never directly thought of himself as some sort of reincarnation of Elijah.
"Well, are you the Prophet, then? The one spoken about in the book of Deuteronomy and mentioned in the writings of the Essenes, the Dead Sea sect?" That was an organisation which scholars today consider to be the only other group of the time to baptise in a similar way to John. So John might well have belonged to them at some point in his life.
"No, I'm not the Prophet."
"Who are you then? Just what authority do you have for coming out here and preaching?"
And interestingly, John describes himself in terms of his vocation. In terms of the way he feels God has called him. "I'm a voice," he says. He's a voice for God. And he goes on to identify himself with Isaiah's prophesy, as the one who has come to prepare the way.
But his questioners dismiss all that. They totally ignore his response. They don't want to be bothered with arbitrary quotes from Scripture. They're after something much more solid. So they pursue this question of authority: "If you don't even claim to be someone special, what do you think you're doing baptising? What gives you the right to baptise?"
And John uses that as an opportunity to witness to the coming Christ. To slip in a word or two about the momentous importance of the one who is to come.
There seem to be two types of authority. There's the authority which is automatically conferred on someone simply because of his or her position. Such as the Pope, or the Queen, or the Prime Minister. Or at a more local level, those who are professionals in their chosen field, such as doctors, lawyers, teachers, priests, and so on.
This is an authority which can be sensitively used for encouragement and enabling and getting the best out of people and situations, so that the best teachers are the ones who inspire their classes. The best lawyers are those who inspire confidence in their clients.
But automatic authority of that sort is also wide open to abuse. It does seem to be true that very often, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
But there's another sort of authority, a kind of inner authority. The sort of authority which develops within a person as a result of deep experience. The sort of authority which can be sensed whenever you're with that person. And which may go with high office, but which doesn't depend on position. And which may be feared or regarded as a threat by those in positions of power.
This was the kind of authority exercised by both John the Baptist and by Jesus. Neither of whom had positions of power, but both of whom possessed immense inner authority. The sort of authority which comes directly from God.
Problems arise when human authority and inner authority are in conflict, as both John the Baptist and Jesus discovered. In the end, they both gave their lives rather than deny their inner authority. And very often that sort of stark choice confronts those who exercise inner authority. In our society they may not be asked to forfeit their physical life, but they may well be ostracised and humiliated.
And so it's very tempting to hide behind human authority, and never exercise any inner authority at all. If I assume human authority is always right, I'll never need to challenge. I'll never have to stand up and be counted. I'll never have to face the unpleasantness of being in a minority situation.
And I'll never have to do very much, because it'll always be somebody else's job, somebody else's responsibility. They ought to do this, that and the other, not me. It's up to them.
But it's not like that for Christians. Because we all have inner authority. We all have the responsibility of ensuring in the best way we can, that our society maintains Christian values. We may not all be John the Baptists, we may not all be capable of preaching the gospel, but we're all responsible for passing on the Christian message. St Peter describes it as: "the priesthood of all believers".
And we've all been given different, and complementary talents by God, in order to pass on the Christian message to our generation. We need to develop those talents to their full, so that if somebody says: "Who are you?" we too will be able to reply, like John the Baptist, from inner authority and in terms of our vocation from God.
But this is not so the other way round. The Roman Catholic Church is still unable to accept the orders of ordained clergy from most other churches, including the Church of England. The underlying issue, of course, is that of authority.
Authority seems to be such an important issue in life, and gives a useful and secure framework in which to operate. If there was no authority, we'd soon reach a terrifying state of anarchy and total chaos.
But there are times when authority can perhaps be somewhat stifling. Times when it can take such rigid control that there's no space for vision, and growth is suffocated, as people in parts of Europe found under communist rule, and as people who live under some sort of dictatorship continue to find.
John the Baptist came up against authority at a very early stage of his ministry. He had begun to preach and to baptise, and the crowds were flocking to him. But as so often happens, he was seen as a threat by the religious leaders of the day, the Pharisees. So they sent a delegation to ask him: "Who are you? Who do you think you are?"
John refused to answer directly, which is quite a good way of dealing with those who try to pull rank. The obvious answer would have been: "I'm John, son of Zechariah and Elizabeth. I live at ... wherever. For a living I do... such and such a job. I've spent a number of years alone in the wilderness training for this task."
But that would have been instantly submitting to this somewhat spurious authority. So John skipped that part and instead went straight to the anxieties behind the question. "Don't worry," he said (in effect). "I'm not the Christ. I'm no threat to your high office."
But they weren't satisfied. They needed something positive to take back to those who had sent them. So they said: "Well who are you then? Are you Elijah, the one who's expected to return to announce the coming of the Messiah?"
"No, I'm not him either." Although John does appear to model himself on Elijah, in the way that he dresses, and in his familiarity with the wilderness. But it seems John never directly thought of himself as some sort of reincarnation of Elijah.
"Well, are you the Prophet, then? The one spoken about in the book of Deuteronomy and mentioned in the writings of the Essenes, the Dead Sea sect?" That was an organisation which scholars today consider to be the only other group of the time to baptise in a similar way to John. So John might well have belonged to them at some point in his life.
"No, I'm not the Prophet."
"Who are you then? Just what authority do you have for coming out here and preaching?"
And interestingly, John describes himself in terms of his vocation. In terms of the way he feels God has called him. "I'm a voice," he says. He's a voice for God. And he goes on to identify himself with Isaiah's prophesy, as the one who has come to prepare the way.
But his questioners dismiss all that. They totally ignore his response. They don't want to be bothered with arbitrary quotes from Scripture. They're after something much more solid. So they pursue this question of authority: "If you don't even claim to be someone special, what do you think you're doing baptising? What gives you the right to baptise?"
And John uses that as an opportunity to witness to the coming Christ. To slip in a word or two about the momentous importance of the one who is to come.
There seem to be two types of authority. There's the authority which is automatically conferred on someone simply because of his or her position. Such as the Pope, or the Queen, or the Prime Minister. Or at a more local level, those who are professionals in their chosen field, such as doctors, lawyers, teachers, priests, and so on.
This is an authority which can be sensitively used for encouragement and enabling and getting the best out of people and situations, so that the best teachers are the ones who inspire their classes. The best lawyers are those who inspire confidence in their clients.
But automatic authority of that sort is also wide open to abuse. It does seem to be true that very often, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
But there's another sort of authority, a kind of inner authority. The sort of authority which develops within a person as a result of deep experience. The sort of authority which can be sensed whenever you're with that person. And which may go with high office, but which doesn't depend on position. And which may be feared or regarded as a threat by those in positions of power.
This was the kind of authority exercised by both John the Baptist and by Jesus. Neither of whom had positions of power, but both of whom possessed immense inner authority. The sort of authority which comes directly from God.
Problems arise when human authority and inner authority are in conflict, as both John the Baptist and Jesus discovered. In the end, they both gave their lives rather than deny their inner authority. And very often that sort of stark choice confronts those who exercise inner authority. In our society they may not be asked to forfeit their physical life, but they may well be ostracised and humiliated.
And so it's very tempting to hide behind human authority, and never exercise any inner authority at all. If I assume human authority is always right, I'll never need to challenge. I'll never have to stand up and be counted. I'll never have to face the unpleasantness of being in a minority situation.
And I'll never have to do very much, because it'll always be somebody else's job, somebody else's responsibility. They ought to do this, that and the other, not me. It's up to them.
But it's not like that for Christians. Because we all have inner authority. We all have the responsibility of ensuring in the best way we can, that our society maintains Christian values. We may not all be John the Baptists, we may not all be capable of preaching the gospel, but we're all responsible for passing on the Christian message. St Peter describes it as: "the priesthood of all believers".
And we've all been given different, and complementary talents by God, in order to pass on the Christian message to our generation. We need to develop those talents to their full, so that if somebody says: "Who are you?" we too will be able to reply, like John the Baptist, from inner authority and in terms of our vocation from God.
