Reflection on the readings for the 27th September, the 17th Sunday after Trinity
Readings: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-end; Matthew 21:23-32; John 3:16
Today’s reflection is by Reader, Cal Bailey: “By Whose Authority?”
“By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you this authority?”
Authority isn’t respected anymore! I suspect this has been said for hundreds of generations by adults in many countries around the world. It isn’t just Donald Trump and Mark Carney who can’t agree on much, who accuse each other of being disrespectful, who challenge people who claim authority. Who gave you the right to tell me? It’s happened in every parliament, every university debate and lecture, every failing business and sports team, in every school classroom and every playground. It’s been felt by every teenager, even if we didn’t have the courage to say it out loud.
We may blame the crisis of authority on the 1960’s; or Elvis Presley – but it goes back much further than that. It goes back in the West to the Reformation of the 16th century, when Martin Luther and Erasmus first challenged the church authorities publicly. Up till then, authority rested with the educated people in church – monks, priests and bishops – whose interpretation of the Latin bible was the authority that was generally accepted because there was no other source of truth.
The change was caused by 2 things which happened almost simultaneously: the first was one particular monk who read parts of the New Testament, especially St Paul, thought they challenged some church practices, and had the courage to say so. That was Martin Luther. And secondly by the translation of the bible into English, and German and French, alongside the printing of these new translations – so they could be read by folk outside the priesthood.
Since then the church – it often seems – has been able to agree on little. And we have split into many different denominations. Well, the second part of that is true. But while there may be many disagreements, I think we agree on a good deal.
And part of what we agree on is what made yesterday a very special day for me. Fifty years ago, on 26th September 1976, I was a 15 year old schoolboy. Looking back, I was an arrogant, self-confident little shit of a schoolboy. I didn’t respect my school mates, and didn’t curry their favour – and as a result I wasn’t in the popular groups and was a bit of a loner.
But there was another side to me too. While I was certain my school mates hadn’t much to say for themselves, I didn’t think I had either. I was full of doubt, mainly about myself. What was true? Or good? How should I live? I was searching for authority.
And it was at this point that I was invited to the school Christian group, which met on Sundays just after lunch. Before this day, I had been to the group a few times and been quite interested in what the speakers said. One of them was a former head of school I remembered in my first term. Giles came twice and talked about Jesus, and made us learn two verses. I still remember both. Mark 10:45 and John 3:16. Both are about Jesus – the first about how the Son of God didn’t come to be served, but to serve; and the second about how God loved us so much that he sent his son that we might not die but live.
He challenged us to follow this Jesus, who was God, but who lived not for himself but for us. Who had authority, but lived without entitlement, as one of us. Who spoke wisdom, but whose life actually was the loudest thing about him – it was about service and sacrifice; about others, not himself; about life but was willing to die; and who actually did die for us, and so forgave my sins.
I doubt there is a teenager on earth who doesn’t feel guilty and want to be forgiven. I know I did. I left the meeting, and cycled as I did every Sunday afternoon down to the Sailing Club. Half way there, I stopped by a gate, climbed over, sat down in the field and told God that I was in.
I noted the date in my diary, which is how I remember. I’ve been in touch with Giles many times since to say thank you.
What am I thankful for?
Firstly, because immediately I had friends. One of the lads in that group, Tom, became my best friend at school. I was accepted and cared for and loved.
Secondly because I realized that not only did Jesus’ example seem really good, the biblical account of God and Jesus’ incarnation and crucifixion and resurrection made really good sense to me. It was a coherent account of our troubled but beautiful world – the most coherent account I could find. So it was not only loving and good but true.
I could go on. This is the authority I was looking for, and to which I gladly submit.
But there is one thing that has puzzled me. It is that while that day is a day I celebrate, yet it is a day that has embarrassed me for most of my life.
Telling other people that I had started to follow Jesus didn’t seem cool; and I needed to be cool – though you might just think that a less cool schoolboy is hard to imagine!
What can possibly be unattractive about somebody having found friends and solid goodness and a truth to live by? Yet I’ve always struggled to tell people that I’m a Christian. Mostly, I’ve discovered, people already knew, so I needn’t have worried. I’ve also discovered that, often, they are very interested.
I guess we are all a bit embarrassed like that. Yet we live in a world where loneliness is among the greatest of our problems. And where lots of people are also seeking a sense of purpose and meaning. What’s not to like about Christian faith when we look at it objectively?
So here’s my challenge for today. To find words this week to talk about Jesus to someone to whom you haven’t mentioned Jesus before.
And here is a way we might do it gently and with minimal embarrassment.
It is to talk about church – which indicates you are a Christian, but indirectly. I now find it easy to talk about some of the good things I find at church – it could be the Shed, or the Pantry, or the supportive friends, or the choir event or the silent disco or even the plan for solar panels on the new roof! There must be something there that isn’t embarrassing.
And why mention Jesus?
Because I am thankful for the introduction to the wisest, most loving person who ever lived. Who, it turns out, is God. Who, it turns out, will gladly share his life with me and you.
I am profoundly thankful to Giles. It is the kindest thing he could have done for me. His boldness in 1976 has changed my life for the better. Let’s be witnesses to the God who comes to unlovely us, who loves us, died for us and makes our lives so much richer, fuller and deeper.
Amen.