Who Says?

This sermon was preached for the regular morning worship services on 1/29/06. It is based on the story of Jesus preaching in the synagogue in Capernaum, Mark 1: 21-28.


Once upon a time, in a small rural town not far from here, there was a 12 year old girl. This little girl was just beginning to grow into adolescence, and she was very self-conscious about her changing body and the fact that she wasn’t as thin as all of the other girls. This little girl took ballet classes, and participated in the annual springtime ballet recital. One evening, as the little girl and her ballet classmates were lined up in tutus and tights, preparing for their entrance onto the stage to perform for their parents, one of her classmates—pretty and thin, but more than a little bit mean-- leaned over and, with great authority, said to this little girl, “You know, if you don’t get thinner thighs you’ll never get a husband.”

Once upon a time in a country not far from here, there was a famous and respected religious broadcaster. This broadcaster used some of his time on television in front of millions of believers for the purposes of Christian prayer, evangelism, and charity. But he also used the authority of his TV show as a platform to call for the assassination of one world leader; to claim that God caused another world leader’s massive stroke as punishment for agreeing to give up land; and to claim that a governor’s fall from a motorcycle, for which he received 15 stitches, was caused by Satan.

What these stories have in common is that they’re about the twin and intertwining themes of authority and truth. The mean classmate and the religious broadcaster are both people who spoke with great authority. What is clear, in each story, is that not all who speak with authority are actually speaking the truth.

We all live under and respond to many different types of authority, most of them an ordinary part of human life. As children, we live under the authority of our parents until we come of age. As Americans, we live under the authority of our government, our laws, our elected leaders, and our courts. As workers, we agree to abide by the rules of our corporation or workplace. As members of neighborhood associations and health clubs, borrowers from the library and the video store, students in classes—in so many of the settings and services we participate in, even the church, we are bound by the authorities of order and organization, of deadlines and due dates.

Another kind of authority we experience in our daily life these days is the barrage of experts dispensing advice in books, in magazines, in newspapers, on radio, on television, and on the internet. How many times each hour of the local news do we hear local anchors defer to unnamed authorities with the words, “Experts say. . .” “Scientists say. . .” “Researchers say. . .” (I challenge you to count them up one night and report back to me.)

Each hour of CNN or MSNBC brings a parade of so-called authorities--pundits, talking heads, consultants, and think tankers --spinning some kind of opinion or point of view. And some of the local cable access shows—well, I’m not going to go there. Suffice it to say that it gets harder and harder to know which authority speaks with authority—or which authority speaks the truth.

Should we take an aspirin every day—or not? Should we put the baby to sleep on its back or on its front? Did we really land on the moon or was it all a big hoax?

And in our churches and religious communities, we face similar dilemmas—Should we ordain gays and lesbians? Should we be for the death penalty or against it? Should we support the war, or work against it?

For the most part, all these voices and sources of authority—whether civic or commercial, personal or media--have power over us because we give them that power, consciously or unconsciously.

We give them that power—and they retain it--as long as we perceive they wield that authority truthfully, justly, and authentically. The Declaration of Independence expresses this well when it says, “governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the consent of the governed.” The framers were wise to link our consent to authority with the justice of authority. Without truth, without justice, the power of any authority is empty and weak—and, many would argue, need not be obeyed.

In our gospel reading for today, the twin themes of authority and truth come into clear focus.

Mark, in his typical no-nonsense writing style, tells us that, when Jesus and the disciples are visiting Capernaum, the Sabbath comes, and Jesus goes to the synagogue and begins to teach. Mark says, “The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority.”

Moreover, the truth of this authority wielded by Jesus is confirmed by a most unlikely source—a man possessed by an evil spirit—who cries out “I know who you are—the Holy One of God!” Jesus tells the evil spirit, “Come out of him!” and the man is healed.

The crowd in the synagogue instinctively knows that Jesus speaks with authority—but the man possessed by an evil spirit is the first person in Mark’s gospel to recognize and name the truth which powers Jesus’ authority—the fact that Jesus is the Son of God. (Not even the disciples have realized it yet—and it takes them another quite a few more chapters to figure it out!) In this passage, there is no question or conflict about authority and truth: Jesus Christ, Mark tells us, possesses and embodies them both.

Authority and truth—twin and intertwining themes, twin and intertwining realities, twin and intertwining dilemmas. We know and recognize Jesus, in the Bible and in our own lives, as the greatest example of one who speaks with ultimate authority and ultimate truth.

But we also know from the thousand choices and voices and decisions of our daily experience that not all who speak with authority speak the truth—and how on earth are we expected to tell the difference?

How do we know when someone—a mean classmate or a famous broadcaster—or a preacher or pastor, even-- is speaking with authority? How do we know who’s speaking the truth —particularly religious or Christian truth? If it was hard to do in Jesus’ time—how much harder it must be to do in our plugged in, 24 hour news, information overload world. Who can we trust?

It’s not an easy question—and there’s certainly no easy answer. It’s a question that could probably consume us for weeks and months. One possible solution might be that classic Presbyterian principle, “Jesus Christ alone is Lord of the conscience”—giving each one of you individually the freedom and the responsibility to come up with your own answer. And of course, really, that’s exactly what each of you must do, in your own heart of hearts.

However--I’d like to offer a few suggestions or principles that can maybe help you—and all of us—out—and maybe could be a good starting place for the discussion.

First of all, authority is relational.

What I mean by this is that true authority is built on the pillars of knowledge, trust, community, and history. We acknowledge authority to be legitimate when we know it well; when it has proven trustworthy; when it is acknowledged and recognized not just by one person, but by a whole community; and when it has demonstrated these things time after time, year after year. True authority is not a one-way street; it requires interaction and relationship, trustworthiness over time, the verification of community.

We know the authority of Jesus because we have a personal relationship with him. Because of that personal relationship we know him and over the course of that relationship we have come to trust him. Our relationship with him is confirmed and strengthened by our participation in the community of faith.

We can find these pillars of knowledge, trust, community and history actively working in our life together as a church, as we grant authority to various individuals and groups to lead us and act for us. We choose our pastors and other leaders—those in authority-- by means of processes, nominating committees and corporate elections that –although they might seem cumbersome--utilize our knowledge, trust, community, and history.

When we confer authority in this way—and when we recognize these features in those would claim authority--I believe we’ve taken a big step in knowing whether authority is legitimate or not.

The second principle I would like to present to you is that true, legitimate authority—religious or secular—is never to be found hand in hand with violence or hate.

Author Charles Kimball, in his book “When Religion Becomes Evil,” presents five characteristics that should ring alarm bells in all of us if they are ever presented as truth by someone in authority. These five characteristics are primarily religious, but I think they’re applicable to secular, political, and even personal settings as well. They’re a clear and compelling witness that the claim of authority is false and in fact dangerous.

The five characteristics identified by Kimball are:
1. fanatical claims of absolute truth
2. blind obedience to totalitarian, charismatic, or authoritarian leaders.
3. actively trying to usher in the end times
4. justifying religious ends by any means
5. any and all forms of dehumanization

I’m sure there are some other things you might want to add to this list—but it’s a pretty good starting place for recognizing dangerous and corrupt authority. Any preacher or leader who advocates any of these things—no matter how good looking or well spoken they are—you need to get out of there and fast, and take as many people with you as you can!

The third principle I’d like to share with you is this -- authority can sometimes be found in unlikely places.

Let’s return to our gospel reading for a moment. The man possessed by an evil spirit is not only the first one in Mark’s gospel to proclaim Jesus’ identity. He is also the only one in our whole gospel reading for today who recognizes that Jesus’ identity is the source of Jesus’ authority. There were other people in the synagogue that day. But, as Mark tells us, they were so caught up in amazement and wonder at the possessed man’s healing that they miss the truth of what he really said—and who Jesus really is.

The people say, “What is this? A new teaching—and with authority! He even gives orders to evil spirits and they obey him.” They’re so mesmerized by authority that they completely miss the truth—the good news that the possessed man announced for all to hear--that Jesus is “the Holy One of God!”

Earlier in this sermon I said that “Not everyone who speaks with authority speaks the truth.” This gospel reading also proves the opposite: “Not everyone who speaks the truth speaks with authority.”

Who in the ancient world would have less authority than a man possessed of an evil spirit? And yet this man without authority proclaims the truth of Jesus’ identity and power for all to hear.

We can learn from this gospel reading to be more attentive in our own lives to people without authority—children, the poor, the homeless, the sick, the refugee, the ordinary and non-famous person--maybe even the person next to you in the church pew!—who may indeed be proclaiming the truth for all to hear, and who may be calling us forth to greater roles of leadership and service.

Not all who speak with authority speak the truth. Not all who speak the truth speak with authority.

As you ponder authority and truth for yourself, may you know the love, and comfort, and presence of Our Lord Jesus Christ--who speaks, and IS, both truth and authority.

Amen.