When I was a little girl and wanted to push beyond the rules that my mother expected us to obey, it was always my inclination to ask, “Why do I have to do that,” or more often, “Why can’t I do that?” Sometimes, my mother would attempt to use logic with me. With regard to the ugly brown orthopedic shoes she insisted we wear: “Because these shoes will give you good arches when you need to wear high heels later on.” And when being suffocated in a snowsuit like the little brother in “A Christmas Story,” her rationale was “Because if you don’t put on a jacket, you’ll catch pneumonia.” And of course, we were not permitted to ride our bicycles in the street “because it’s too dangerous. If all your friends thought it was cool to jump off a bridge would you do it too?” Ultimately, the one answer that was guaranteed to stop my back talk was, “because I’m the mommy, and I say so.” She held the authority, and I knew that mommies and kids did not have equal votes when it came to household rules. AND I also knew that my parents loved me and I trusted them to keep me safe. There was no questioning that parental authority. Until I got to be around fourteen and, of course, I knew everything. NOT.
Who or what gave my mother that authority? Where does any authority come from? In our lives in this country we appeal to what we call the Rule of Law. We elect people to draft laws and then we agree to abide by them, collectively hiring people to enforce the laws. The people vet the legislators and the laws, and if we think they are unjust, we overturn them or make new laws. This example shows us that there are two parts to authority: Someone holds authority that is conferred upon them, and then others either accept or reject the authority. A relationship is required between the person holding authority and the people who agree to abide by it. Even though it may seem that authority can be forced in the short term, it cannot be over the long haul, and we’ve seen again and again, whether in families or bigger institutions, that imposed and unjust authority will ultimately be deposed.
So what is different about God’s authority or that which God confers? How do we know it when we see it, and how does it differ from human authority?
My parents are still living. And while I love and respect them, probably more than I showed as a child, they have abnegated their authority over their children’s lives for many years now. They ask us to speak with authority on their behalf. Human authority is transitory, and it’s contextual. We give it or take it and there is no human institution that holds authority in perpetuity.
God’s authority is different. It is lasting. But even the authority that God confers on people is not always seen or embraced. For various reasons, humans reject God’s authority and those who speak for God. Sometimes we don’t recognize it because we think we know what it should look like, but then we get it wrong. Leadership can emerge by surprise because God chooses whom God chooses. We don’t always understand it. What happens when someone surprises you by speaking or acting with authority that you had not anticipated?
When Jesus came to his hometown with his disciples following him, he went into the synagogue on the Sabbath and began to teach. Mark says that “many who heard him were astounded ‘Where did this man get all this?’ ” You see the people in his hometown—the ones who saw him running around when he was a little boy, were caught off guard. They didn’t expect Jesus to be anything more than the kid who grew up with his brothers and sisters and became a carpenter. They questioned the authority of his teaching. Even Jesus, the one we go to as an authoritative model of how to relate to God—even he could be overlooked by those who were sure they knew what God’s own authority should look like. When hearts and minds are not open to the potential of a prophet amongst them, the prophet goes unrecognized. Apparently Jesus didn’t look like Isaiah or Jeremiah, so the people in Nazareth only saw what they expected. Mark tells us they took offense at him, and Jesus was amazed at their unbelief. I don’t think Jesus’ amazement was about their failure to believe in him, but rather their inability to recognize the signs of the authority that had been conferred by God the Father—the ultimate authority. Jesus thought that God’s authority should be obvious.
Christians sometimes struggle with the issue of authority, because the very human institution that we call “church” has doctrines and human leaders that sometimes don’t look like what we imagine to be the authority of God.
When we invoke the authority of Scripture or the doctrine of a church, it’s important to remember that the authority of these sources does not obviate the need for us to go directly to God in prayer for help in the interpretation of these Holy Writings and ancient doctrines. Our true authority is our God. We’d best avoid giving more authority to a human writing or talking about God than God’s own self. Jesus spoke in parables, and we NEED God to understand the Holy Writings. We need stories in today’s context to understand that God is alive and still working miracles. It’s God we need first and everything else is second. Remember—authority is a relationship, so even if God is always God, we still have to accept and be present to that authority.
If Jesus was appalled by the unbelief in Nazareth, I wonder what he would think about the unbelief in many self-described believers today?
We often invoke Jesus’ words about prophets being without honor in their own country. Now Jesus’ hometown is in our hearts. It’s easy to get complacent with familiarity and confuse the authority of God with the authority of church doctrine and human theologians. Humans are not above trying to pull out the parental authority card “because I’m the authority and I say so…” But God generously offers that considerable divine authority. It’s up to us to recognize it and allow the dynamic relationship that enables us to take full advantage of resting in God’s authority to change our lives.