TRUE AUTHORITY
When Jesus had finished these words, the crowds were amazed at His teaching; for He was teaching them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
(Matthew
7: 28-29 – NAS)
In the counter-culture era of the 1960s and ‘70s, the phrase “Question Authority” took root and flourished. It covered everything from flat out rebellion for the sake of rebellion to the sifting and judging of the worthiness of anyone who stepped forward as an authority on any subject (“Prove it!” being the usual response). The very contrariness of the “question authority” attitude actually engendered a degree of respect for those who had achieved an expert level of competence in many arenas. The amount of study, research, and investigation into the sciences the feed oceanography gave explorer Jacques Cousteau the mantle of Authority. He had without a doubt earned the title. The years of training that made for an astronaut – training as a pilot, as an engineer (as many of them were in addition to being flyers), of the preparations of their bodies to face the demands of space-flight – all earned the astronauts respect as Authorities in that field, even from those who were not in favor of the military. The act of questioning Authority, in the end, was the testing of whether or not the so-called Authority was worthy of respect.
But somewhere along the way, the by-word of “Question Authority” fell out of use. These days, on every side, we find people putting themselves forward as authorities on this subject or that matter, and until gross errors clash with reality, nobody really questions such declarations. And even then, if the person (such as a political pundit) has a popular following, the fact that the so-called Authority is patently not an expert, nor even accurately knowledgeable about a point, has ceased to matter. The followers continue following regardless.
The result is a bizarre mixture of blind acceptance of anyone setting up as an “Authority” with a great indifference toward the accuracy of what that person puts forward.
That is one aspect of dealing with “Authority” that we face in our lives these days.
Another aspect of dealing with “Authority” comes from our uncertainty of our own knowledge. During my graduate studies, as I trained to be a literary scholar, I came to appreciate the work of previous scholars in special areas of study. The work of certain scholars has stood the test of time, in that their insights into a specific body of literature have remained unequaled. They have come to be considered Authorities. A newer scholar will measure his or her own work against such previous Authorities as well as against the actual texts under consideration, but rarely will the newer scholar presumptuously assume the mantle of “Authority” by his or her own choosing. Scholars are a cautious lot, by and large.
It is that scholarly caution that the scribes who taught the people in Jesus day exercised. They did not presume to teach from “their own authority.” Instead, they would cite either the text itself, “As it says in the First Book of Moses,” or they would reference the wisdom and interpretation of a previous scholar “For as the ancient scribe Gonebefore has taught us....”
This is what the people of Jesus’ time were used to. They were used to their teachers presenting knowledge, particularly knowledge of God, with these layers of expertise between the listener and the knowledge. They were used to hearing the knowledge imparted with the presumption that it took years of study to gain even these insights they were about to learn. They were used to the formal acknowledgement of the temple structure or the heritage of passing teaching from Master to Student in giving weight and authority to the voice of a particular teacher.
But Jesus was not like that, and He shocked them by His boldness. Jesus came to them “out of nowhere” (for Nazareth was an insignificant village in Galilee), with no apparent credentials (no calling card that said “I studied with Important-teacher”). No one knew where He had studied or with whom. Yet He understood scripture better than their usual teachers. He could quote, from memory, passages from scripture that would address any point in hand. And He could do these things without hours of preparation (other than in prayer), on any occasion, whether people were formally gathered together for His teaching or whether it was a conversation in passing on the street.
From the viewpoint of His listeners, He was a most unusual teacher, for He did not try and convince them that He was an authority by citing all His years of study and a heritage of Master-to-Student learning. Nor did He speak in flashy and flamboyant ways, overwhelming the listeners with His personality so that they never put His words to the test.
Instead, He spoke to them directly, delivering His message with immediacy. Additionally, He put it to His listeners in simple, basic terms, not hedged round with the “protections” of citing Moses and all the teachers who have studied the words of Moses and have reached a consensus that this interpretation is what was meant and what we should do. Instead, He flatly says “This is what you are to do, this is why, for these things will bring you closer to the Lord God.” Period. End of story. Take it or leave it.
I had finished reading the Sermon on the Mount on that summer afternoon back in my youth. It had been a mild and pleasingly quiet time. I considered what I had read and the vistas it opened up for me. Since I had been educated in the scientific mindset, which brought a healthy degree of skepticism to matters leading one to question and evaluate things, I weighed what I had read.
If one followed the instructions in the Sermon on the Mount, what sort of person would result? Would such a person be of worth, even if God were not part of the picture? Looked at objectively, the person Jesus is calling us to be would certainly be a kind, attentive person to be around: that was good. But what would all that “trusting God even in dire circumstances” look like?
The Person of the Beatitudes and Sermon would certainly look as if they were blindly, perhaps even unreasonably, optimistic when they had little cause to be so. I quickly realized that others have no way of seeing the assurances of God that an individual receives, and so that individual was going to be challenged and argued with, possibly even by fellow believers.
But there is a reason “He was teaching them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.” And that reason is that Jesus is the Final Authority. As the Christ, being one with God the Father, it is He that can best tell us how to draw near to God, how to be the Children of God.
I had “questioned authority” and found the Person to be an expert worthy of listening to, someone whose knowledge was valid and consistent and true. I had weighed the nature of the teaching and found it worthy of attempting. I was not going to find a better teacher on how to be the person God designed me to be than Jesus here in the Sermon on the Mount.
I closed my Bible and thought about it. This was my standard, then. This was to be the measure I would gage my life by. This would be my “operating manual.”
We are frail and prone to wavering. Our emotions over-run us and push us off the sure path. We forget instructions, or we pay attention to only part of them. As Jesus says, the Lord knows our secret hearts, He knows our thoughts and prayers and needs long before we articulate them. And yet He loves us. So through all the tests I face, I hold to the Love of the Lord. As a caring Father, the Creator of the Universe gives attention to my petty needs and anxieties, and waits for me to let go of those and simply trust Him. That’s a struggle. But on the other side of the struggle, Jesus waits, expecting me, and every other believer, to stand beside Him in the kingdom of God, holding the power of heaven in our hands to share out with others. Isn’t that worth trying for? I think so.
In the counter-culture era of the 1960s and ‘70s, the phrase “Question Authority” took root and flourished. It covered everything from flat out rebellion for the sake of rebellion to the sifting and judging of the worthiness of anyone who stepped forward as an authority on any subject (“Prove it!” being the usual response). The very contrariness of the “question authority” attitude actually engendered a degree of respect for those who had achieved an expert level of competence in many arenas. The amount of study, research, and investigation into the sciences the feed oceanography gave explorer Jacques Cousteau the mantle of Authority. He had without a doubt earned the title. The years of training that made for an astronaut – training as a pilot, as an engineer (as many of them were in addition to being flyers), of the preparations of their bodies to face the demands of space-flight – all earned the astronauts respect as Authorities in that field, even from those who were not in favor of the military. The act of questioning Authority, in the end, was the testing of whether or not the so-called Authority was worthy of respect.
But somewhere along the way, the by-word of “Question Authority” fell out of use. These days, on every side, we find people putting themselves forward as authorities on this subject or that matter, and until gross errors clash with reality, nobody really questions such declarations. And even then, if the person (such as a political pundit) has a popular following, the fact that the so-called Authority is patently not an expert, nor even accurately knowledgeable about a point, has ceased to matter. The followers continue following regardless.
The result is a bizarre mixture of blind acceptance of anyone setting up as an “Authority” with a great indifference toward the accuracy of what that person puts forward.
That is one aspect of dealing with “Authority” that we face in our lives these days.
Another aspect of dealing with “Authority” comes from our uncertainty of our own knowledge. During my graduate studies, as I trained to be a literary scholar, I came to appreciate the work of previous scholars in special areas of study. The work of certain scholars has stood the test of time, in that their insights into a specific body of literature have remained unequaled. They have come to be considered Authorities. A newer scholar will measure his or her own work against such previous Authorities as well as against the actual texts under consideration, but rarely will the newer scholar presumptuously assume the mantle of “Authority” by his or her own choosing. Scholars are a cautious lot, by and large.
It is that scholarly caution that the scribes who taught the people in Jesus day exercised. They did not presume to teach from “their own authority.” Instead, they would cite either the text itself, “As it says in the First Book of Moses,” or they would reference the wisdom and interpretation of a previous scholar “For as the ancient scribe Gonebefore has taught us....”
This is what the people of Jesus’ time were used to. They were used to their teachers presenting knowledge, particularly knowledge of God, with these layers of expertise between the listener and the knowledge. They were used to hearing the knowledge imparted with the presumption that it took years of study to gain even these insights they were about to learn. They were used to the formal acknowledgement of the temple structure or the heritage of passing teaching from Master to Student in giving weight and authority to the voice of a particular teacher.
But Jesus was not like that, and He shocked them by His boldness. Jesus came to them “out of nowhere” (for Nazareth was an insignificant village in Galilee), with no apparent credentials (no calling card that said “I studied with Important-teacher”). No one knew where He had studied or with whom. Yet He understood scripture better than their usual teachers. He could quote, from memory, passages from scripture that would address any point in hand. And He could do these things without hours of preparation (other than in prayer), on any occasion, whether people were formally gathered together for His teaching or whether it was a conversation in passing on the street.
From the viewpoint of His listeners, He was a most unusual teacher, for He did not try and convince them that He was an authority by citing all His years of study and a heritage of Master-to-Student learning. Nor did He speak in flashy and flamboyant ways, overwhelming the listeners with His personality so that they never put His words to the test.
Instead, He spoke to them directly, delivering His message with immediacy. Additionally, He put it to His listeners in simple, basic terms, not hedged round with the “protections” of citing Moses and all the teachers who have studied the words of Moses and have reached a consensus that this interpretation is what was meant and what we should do. Instead, He flatly says “This is what you are to do, this is why, for these things will bring you closer to the Lord God.” Period. End of story. Take it or leave it.
I had finished reading the Sermon on the Mount on that summer afternoon back in my youth. It had been a mild and pleasingly quiet time. I considered what I had read and the vistas it opened up for me. Since I had been educated in the scientific mindset, which brought a healthy degree of skepticism to matters leading one to question and evaluate things, I weighed what I had read.
If one followed the instructions in the Sermon on the Mount, what sort of person would result? Would such a person be of worth, even if God were not part of the picture? Looked at objectively, the person Jesus is calling us to be would certainly be a kind, attentive person to be around: that was good. But what would all that “trusting God even in dire circumstances” look like?
The Person of the Beatitudes and Sermon would certainly look as if they were blindly, perhaps even unreasonably, optimistic when they had little cause to be so. I quickly realized that others have no way of seeing the assurances of God that an individual receives, and so that individual was going to be challenged and argued with, possibly even by fellow believers.
But there is a reason “He was teaching them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.” And that reason is that Jesus is the Final Authority. As the Christ, being one with God the Father, it is He that can best tell us how to draw near to God, how to be the Children of God.
I had “questioned authority” and found the Person to be an expert worthy of listening to, someone whose knowledge was valid and consistent and true. I had weighed the nature of the teaching and found it worthy of attempting. I was not going to find a better teacher on how to be the person God designed me to be than Jesus here in the Sermon on the Mount.
I closed my Bible and thought about it. This was my standard, then. This was to be the measure I would gage my life by. This would be my “operating manual.”
We are frail and prone to wavering. Our emotions over-run us and push us off the sure path. We forget instructions, or we pay attention to only part of them. As Jesus says, the Lord knows our secret hearts, He knows our thoughts and prayers and needs long before we articulate them. And yet He loves us. So through all the tests I face, I hold to the Love of the Lord. As a caring Father, the Creator of the Universe gives attention to my petty needs and anxieties, and waits for me to let go of those and simply trust Him. That’s a struggle. But on the other side of the struggle, Jesus waits, expecting me, and every other believer, to stand beside Him in the kingdom of God, holding the power of heaven in our hands to share out with others. Isn’t that worth trying for? I think so.
Labels: Authority, Matthew 7, Sermon on the Mount
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