Matthew | Authority in the church

In communities of faith, integrity, service and love are the hallmarks of legitimate authority. (Listen.)

‘The greatest among you will be your servant,’ says Jesus. He’s just identified the greatest commandments, that is, to love God and neighbour. Now, he’s identifying the greatest person: and it’s the one who loves. That is, they set aside their own interests, roll up their sleeves, and serve.

Sadly, we know that not all religious leaders are like this. As Jesus himself observes, some religious leaders don’t practice what they preach. ‘They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.’ They lord it over others and seek influence, even celebrity; they work not for others, but for their own reputation; they get a kick out of honorifics set before their name. Rabbi. Father. Pastor.

If we read on, we discover a list of woes directed towards such leaders. Woe to those who turn people away from heaven, says Jesus, yet move heaven and earth to make converts who are children of hell. Woe to those who imply gold has more power than God’s presence; or who focus on minutiae while ignoring justice, mercy and faith; or who engage in performative holiness without integrity or love. ‘You snakes, you brood of vipers,’ he thunders. ‘How can you escape being sentenced to hell?’

Why is Jesus so worked up?

Because the gospel according to Matthew was written for Jewish Christians who had been expelled from the synagogues of Galilee, in part for critiquing the hypocrisy of religious authorities. The author is deeply concerned with the reformation of religious leadership; and so he shows Jesus calling on leaders to integrate their lives with their teaching. We see that Jesus doesn’t just expect them to speak the commandments, but to do them: that is, he expects them to love.

When they don’t, Jesus becomes angry because he knows what damage it does. ‘You brood of vipers!’ he says; it’s strong stuff. Yet his words continues to resonate, because religious leaders who fail to love is something all too many of us are familiar with. Many of us have experienced hypocrisy and harshness from religious leaders. Many of us can attest to being diverted from the joys of heaven and instead raised in the shadows of hell. Many of us have known religious leaders who savoured power and control, and who used judgement, fear and shame to terrorize people into obedience.

And, like the Jewish Christians for whom Matthew’s account was written, many of us have been expelled from churches or have felt compelled to leave. Some, for our gender or sexuality. Some, for asking difficult questions or demanding accountability from church leadership. Some, because we could no longer tolerate the hypocrisy, the overbearing authority, the spiritual abuse, or the profound disjunction between the promises of Jesus and the context in which they were being preached.

What, then, do we do about religious leadership? Do we call the snake catcher and dispense with this brood of vipers altogether?

In today’s passage, Jesus turns from his criticism of religious leaders for a moment to instruct his disciples on what NOT to do. Nobody is to be called teacher, father, or coach, says Jesus: because there is only one teacher; one father; one coach: the God made known in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. Based on this, some argue that Christian communities should have no leaders or teachers and instead operate as absolutely flat collectives.

Yet in Matthew 10, Jesus commissions his disciples. They are to proclaim the gospel and point to the nearness of heaven; they are to heal the sick, bring life to the dead, draw the untouchable into community, and cast out the powers which suffocate and control: and to do all these things Jesus explicitly grants them authority. Then in Matthew 28, the Risen Christ announces that all authority has been given to him, then again commissions his disciples. In other words, the gospel expects there will be some form of spiritual leadership, working under the authority of Christ.

So the question is not whether there should be authority in the faith community, but what its hallmarks are. What we learn is that those who don’t practice what they preach, or who seek to wield power over people, or who work to shore up their own status, or who engage in ministry to meet their own needs, in other words, those who do not love, are not working under the authority of Christ and have no place in religious leadership.

But those who love, that is, those who set aside their egos and interests to serve others are to be trusted. Those who reach out in life-giving ways to the precarious and vulnerable are to be trusted. Those who bring healing and wholeness and a whiff of heaven into the world are to be trusted; because their lives demonstrate the power of Christ working in them and through them.

It’s not that they’re doormats. Slaves of Christ are answerable to none but Christ: and at times this means they set boundaries or have priorities or act in ways which make them unpopular. And it’s not that they’re perfect; indeed, only God is good (Matthew 19:17). But in their humility, they acknowledge their weaknesses, rely on God’s mercy, and allow Christ to flow through their lives.

This, then, is the fundamental paradox: Authority among Jesus’ followers is granted to those who serve, for service is the hallmark of love. Those who strive for status and authority shall have it taken from them, but those who empty themselves shall find themselves raised up. For in their selflessness there is room for Christ, and this is what the community recognizes and honours.

As Sanctuary winds down and you look to other churches, other networks, or new ways of joining together for mutual encouragement and care, I want to draw out two things.

First, whether you’re seeking a new church or whether you’re dreaming up a new way of doing faith together, don’t worry too much about theories of atonement or whether you like the worship style or what form a gathering takes. Instead, I urge you to look for leaders who love. Beware any setting, structure or dynamic where pastors don’t have external supervision, power is unchecked, accountability is opaque, or judgement, fear or shame are being deployed. Jesus came to bring truth and transparency, healing and wholeness, love, life and peace: so seek out those who radiate these qualities with good humour, humility and grace.

Second, never forget that you, too, are a disciple. As much as you give yourself over to Christ, emptying yourself of ego and embodying a life of trusting obedience, you will be filled with the love, wisdom and compassion that every community needs. You won’t please all the people, but a grounded authority will begin to flow through you and be recognized by others. And when this happens, you might shy away from it; you might feel you’re not worthy: because none of us are. But as a disciple, you, too, must embody Christ-like love; you, too, are entrusted to share the good news; you, too, can touch lives in healing ways; you, too, can bring a whiff of heaven to the people you encounter on the journey.

So go to it. ‘And remember,’ says Jesus, ‘I am with you every moment, until the fulfilment of the age.’ (Matthew 28:20). Ω

Loving God, we offer ourselves once again to you. Empty us, and then fill us with your spirit, that our words and our lives may be an integrated witness to the presence and power of your love. In the name of the one who emptied himself and gave his life away: Jesus Christ our Lord: Amen.

A reflection by Alison Sampson on Matthew 23:1-12 given to Sanctuary on 5 November 2023 © Sanctuary 2023 (Year A Proper 26). Image shows Julia Stankova. The Washing of the Disciples’ Feet. Found here. Sanctuary is based on Peek Whurrong country. Acknowledgement of country here.

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