Fall
2011
Preached
for Neutral Pulpit
First
Presbyterian Church, LaGrande,
Oregon
MATTHEW 21:23-27 NRSV
When he entered the
temple,
the chief priests and
the elders of the people
came to him as he was
teaching,
and said,
“By what authority are you doing these things,
and who gave you this
authority?”
Jesus said to them,
“I will also ask you one question;
if you tell me the answer,
then I will also tell you by what authority I do these
things.
Did the baptism of John come from heaven,
or was it of human origin?”
And they argued with
one another,
“If we say, ‘From heaven,’
he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’
But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’
we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.”
So they answered Jesus,
“We do not know.”
And he said to them,
“Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these
things.
***
Gathered around the dinner table, there is a story
my dad tells, seemingly at least a few times year. As a history professor,
having spent the whole of his life in education, it is one of the many stories
he tells of academia. I say, “academia,” because it has that air of ancient
intellectual hierarchy that seems to be constantly weighing human smartness.
Part of academia’s weighing seems to happen in getting ones doctorate. Like any
system that might sometimes stand above its calling, there is a lore about how
a normal person may enter. My dad humbly tells it this way,
“The rumor
among grad students was, that because the oral defense is the hardest, what you
want to do is get your committee arguing with each other, rather than picking
on you. In preparation for my qualifying exams, I met with a committee. We got
done going over the rules and Dr. Conkin, a very formal Southern professor,
asked me, “Mr. Schneider do you have any questions for us,” and I said, “Yes,
what is this exam supposed to prove? What am I supposed to demonstrate?” Conkin rolled his eyes to the sky and said,
“Don’t ask us that. No one knows.” Then Professor Schultz said, “Oh come on
Conkin, were looking for a comprehensive knowledge of all political, economic,
social, and cultural trends for all of American history.” Conkin did a double
take, and he said, “Schultz you’re crazy; nobody knows all that.” Schultz
responded, “Well, with 48 hours notice, I can give a decent undergraduate
lecture on any reasonable subject.”
Conkin replied, “You mean, two days from now, you can give a good
lecture on transcendentalism?” Conkin had just written a book on that
notoriously difficult subject. Schultz now looked uncomfortable and he pleaded,
“Well I didn’t say religion.” Now the third professor, DeNovo piped in and
said, “You said culture and that’s close enough.” Its at that point my dads
said to himself, ‘I got them arguing even before we were done with the rules.’”
My Dad’s dinner table story is much like our gospel
story today. Be they chief priests or full professors, the authority figures
are arguing about how one achieves authority. Those with authority are arguing
about how one achieves authority, and the person in question, Jesus or my Dad,
evades “getting picked on,” and becomes the authority. That is not to say my
Dad is Jesus, but I do think there are similarities between professors and
chief priests, and academia and the church, and many other institutions and
people who claim authority. I include myself standing on this pulpit.
I can certainly identify with the chief priests. I
have been on a path toward ordination for a long time it seems. There have been
many hoops through which to jump: seminary, ordination exams, chaplaincy, and
committees, committees, committees. It would be hard for me if someone just
walked into a Presbyterian Church and decided to play pastor without having
done any of those things. I am sure in their day the chief priests had their
own hoops through which they had to jump. I am also sure Jesus was not only
ignoring those hoops, but also questioning their validity.
The previous day, Jesus had furiously come into the
temple. He turned over the tables. He ordered those doing business to leave. He
challenged the chief priests and elders in front of their people. He told
people to pray more. Children started singing to Jesus, “Hosanna,” and praising
him. This was not how you became a temple authority. I can understand why the
chief priests are mad. Can you? Wouldn’t you be a little angry if someone came
in and turned over all these pews, told you to pray more, and charged that your
pastors and your session were all wrong? What if this happened at your work, or
in your home? Wouldn’t you be a little angry, more than a little angry? If
someone did that, we would think that they were mentally unstable in some way.
There is no way we would think they were given authority to do so. Who gives
anybody that authority? That’s what the chief priests are asking. They
certainly don’t expect Jesus to be able to provide an answer, much less
question them in return. But Jesus does exactly that, Jesus says,
“I will also ask you
one question;
if you tell me the answer,
then I will also tell you by what authority I do these
things.
Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human
origin?”
Jesus
reversed the power roles so quickly. With a mere sentence the chief priests and
elders are the ones who have to answer to Jesus. They have to answer a question
about authority, which questions their authority. They have to answer a question about authority, which questions their
authority. They don’t believe John’s baptism came from heaven. They believe
in their own system, with its own hoops, with its own hierarchy of authority.
Someone like John, or Jesus, from outside that system can’t be the authority.
But the people believe in John’s baptism, and they believe in Jesus.
In
a way it’s election year politics here. The chief priests couldn’t say what
they really thought about John, otherwise they would loose the vote of the
people. The chief priests and elders would rather pretend they did not have an
answer, than to have to answer to the people. If the chief priests pretended
they believed the baptism of John was from heaven, it would open the door to
people like Jesus. The chief priests and elders would rather pretend they did
not have an answer, than to let Jesus in. This is especially true because once
they acknowledge Jesus, everything would have to change - authority would be
turned upside-down.
And I wonder, what in today’s society is Jesus
trying to turn upside down? What powerful groups in today’s society is Jesus
quizzing about its authority? What authority will Jesus question today? I read the news from Georgia, before
I sat down to write this sermon. Whether or not Troy Davis was guilty, there
were a whole lot of people asking authorities to turn over the tables of our
current justice system. Whether or not you believe in Global Warming, our
generosity has been tested in the face of so many natural disasters. Whether or
not you believe in war, for the last ten years people have been questioning our
military interventions. Whether or not you think our self-governing system is
flawed, people questioning many dictators authority brought about an Arab
Spring. Whether or not you blame Wall Street, or Banks, or government, or
people, the economic crisis has questioned our greed. Whether or not you are
Catholic, there are a whole lot of people questioning the authority of the
church, as many priests, and pastors, stand trial.
What authority will Jesus question today? I don’t
even think they are always that big. Sometimes, I think it comes down to little
ol’ me, or little ol’ you. For instance, I like to think I am in control of my
life. I think if I just do this, or learn that, everything will be great. I
resist surrendering to God whatever is my issue that day. In so doing, I pretend I am my own authority. Yet, Jesus is the
authority on my life and yours. What in your life do you put as an authority
before Christ? Is it yourself, your gifts, your time, your relationships or
something else entirely? Think about it for a moment, because I am sure in
someway each of us can relate to the chief priests.
The chief priest’s also deny John’s baptism was from
heaven. In some ways, I think this is just as bad as denying Jesus’ divinity.
To deny the heavenly origin of John’s baptism is to miss the places where Jesus
is at work in our lives here on earth. I am afraid we all have this blindness,
no matter how many hoops we’ve jumped through, or precisely because we jumped
through hoops that distance us from the tangibility of Jesus at work today. This
blindness scares and saddens me, because I cannot see it to fix it. I wonder
what are the things that are heaven sent, that we are blind to. What are things
that are heaven sent, that we argue against. Where have we denied the baptism
of John was from heavenly origin? What in our life comes from heavenly origin
that we call merely human? Is it we, our gifts, our time, our relationships, or
something else entirely? Think about it for a moment, because I am sure in
someway each of us can relate to the chief priests.
The chief priest’s answered Jesus,
“We do not know.”
Maybe
we do not know either, but I hope there is a difference. The chief priest’s
thought they knew, and he said to them, “Neither
will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.” I pray,
instead we able to say we do not know. Maybe this unknowing is why Jesus told
the people to pray more. To pray that we are able to ask Jesus to be our
authority, to pray that we might be able to discern Jesus’ work here on earth
today, to pray that he might open our eyes to any authority that questions his
authority, be they priests, or professors, or politicians, or even lil’ ol’
you, or lil’ ol’ me.
