Sermons

Questioning Authority

John Wilkinson	Third Presbyterian Church
September 28, 2008	Exodus 17:1-7/Matthew 21:23-32

Who has had authority in your life? When have you been in authority? Think back. What has been effective, successful, inspiring, even? What hasn’t? Good authority and effective leadership are like some other things. You know it when you see it, and experience it. That is what is going on in our pair of scripture texts for this morning. Leadership. Authority exercised and authority questioned.

Last week the wandering Israelites were hungry. Now they are thirsty. And they whine and complain and finally argue with Moses, their leader, the one who had emancipated them from slavery. And Moses gets a little ticked off, as they say, and takes his own complaint to God. God seems a little testy as well, not with Moses, but with the people. But God puts on a little show of authority, and compassion, water comes forth from a rock, and thirst is quenched.

Centuries later, Jesus’ ministry is gaining traction. Healing, teaching, crowds growing. When we find ourselves in Matthew’s gospel this morning, he has just entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. He shows up at the temple, and the chief priests and elders interrupt his teaching. They, the sanctioned leaders, with credentialed authority, are questioning Jesus. “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you the authority?” It’s not a bad question, though weakened because it is asked in fear, from a place of insecurity.

Exercising authority rightly, and faithfully, is tough work. Being a good leader, particularly in the face of adversity, when things aren’t going so well and expectations are not being met.

Most of us will not face the public pressure of leadership and authority – whether we are Gandhi or King leading a movement or a politician leading us out of economic mess or a general leading troops into battle or a coach leading a team into a big game.

But we are all leaders. Every one of us. Every day. And we all have authority.

Parenting – full-time job, great benefits, no compensation. Think back to your parents, or primary family constellation. That relationship, even now, likely bears the greatest impact on who you are. Some of you are not parents; some are not but want to be. The old adage is true: it’s the hardest job you will ever have, and it doesn’t even come with an instruction booklet. “Before I had children,” John Wilmot quipped, “I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children, and no theories.” Most of us don’t think of ourselves as leaders when we are parenting – when we think about it at all. But we are certainly exercising authority, and it is possibly the most leadership we will ever offer.

I grew up on coaches, playing for them and watching them. I can remember a time in my life when a single word from a coach, or a glance one way or another, could lift me to the heights of joy or lower me to the depths of despair. The two most notable coaches I watched were Woody Hayes and Bobby Knight. Old school coaches. Both received intense criticism for their methods, and both had legions of players swearing by those same methods. Both left their careers with their stature diminished in some way by failure of personal conduct.

My own approach to coaching, reaching the mid-level of Brighton Youth Soccer, has been a combination of whining and bribery, which doesn’t even really work with fifth-grade girls.

But I know there are better approaches. I asked two coaches – two church members – Chris Apple, who coaches the men’s soccer team at the U of R, and Linda Adams, who coaches the women’s field hockey team at Eastridge High School.

Chris Apple told me: “…Good leaders today should embrace rather than fear their authority being questioned. It gives them a chance to address the question, explain their rationale and hopefully inspire the group to buy in. If the followers are all thinking the question, but not verbalizing it, the leader may never have that opportunity. When it comes to how I encourage and motivate, I use examples, paint pictures… tell stories and offer analogies. When I speak about facing a challenge and overcoming, there is complete conviction in my voice and body language. We also constantly remind the players to control what they can control and to control their reaction to things outside of their control. If the house is burning down and the family is standing on the front lawn watching, Mom and Dad can cry and inspire fear in the kids, or they can tell the kids not to worry, we have each other and we will rebuild.”

Linda Adams echoed those words: “The girls who come out to play field hockey need to understand that we as a team are in the pursuit of excellence....that we have high expectations, that excellence has a look and a feel to it, and that we will do all we can to help them individually and collectively in that pursuit. As a coach, in addition to my role as caretaker of the girls and the program, I am also the caretaker of this particular sport and its rules and the "spirit" of its rules. I am very aware it is important for my words and actions to reflect my belief in all those roles (there is a look and a feel to that too...integrity), and my players know that I am expecting the same…from them. It is especially during, or quite soon after, a difficult situation when the expectations don't match the “result," that I often take the extra time to remind them what is important and why it is important to keep trying to do the right thing.”

Think about the teachers you’ve loved. The shorthand in our family for the teachers we’ve appreciated has been this – “hard but nice.” I asked my sister Jennifer about all of this, an Ohio middle school teacher: “I am a motivator for success,” she said. “I build teams out of groups. I build authentic self esteem in students and I am unrelenting in my belief that all children can learn and be successful. Everything I do, everything I role model, everything I say, is a means to that end. I also believe that in all situations that no significant learning occurs without a significant relationship.”

Some of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had have been in a choral setting – and I miss that experience now a great deal. I asked our own resident maestro Peter DuBois how he approaches this: “It used to be the case that conductors functioned as dictators - occasionally tyrants - but most often as ‘benevolent dictators.’ (This is…) somewhat typified by a sign that used to be prominent in...(a) choir room (somewhere) that states "Be reasonable: do it MY way." Though that model has changed greatly in recent years,” Peter continues, “…it is true that singing in a choir is still one of the most un-democratic things that we do. Yes, each person contributes their individuality and individual voice to the choir, but each person is called to blend their voice with 30, 40, 50 or more other voices to create a single, unified sound. It is definitely a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the individual parts. As a leader of such a group, and to achieve the goal of a unified sound, a couple of roles come to mind. One is as the artistic leader, with a vision for what can and should be. Second is almost functioning as a cheerleader, constantly encouraging those singing to a higher level of proficiency and unity, and empowering them to achieve more than they think they can. When times get difficult, especially in performance - either a botched entrance, or rhythmic calamity strikes - it is the conductor's role to be so immersed in what they are doing, and so focused on communication with the singers, that they can keep their cool and lead the group through the thorny spot(s) to a place where they can confidently regroup. Ultimately, it all boils down to trust between the leader and the led which develops over time, and with each small success along the way.”

Remember your first boss? Your worst boss? Your best boss? This is not the week for bosses, extremely well-compensated ones or otherwise. In Beleaguered Rulers: The Public Obligation of the Professional, William May asserts that the roles that once held public trust and respect no longer do, and that those who are in them are re-thinking who they are and what they do. “The modern professional sits on a somewhat wobbly throne,” May writes. “On the one hand, professionals wield enormous power…Yet, while professionals exercise great power and often enjoy the vast material privileges of a ruling class, they feel beleaguered. They do not see themselves as power-wielders. They feel marginal, insufficiently appreciated, suspect, harassed, often under siege.” (Pages 1-2)

May addresses what the calls “the moral underpinnings of the marketplace and the moral status of corporate leaders within it.” (Page 131) That conversation is needed now more than ever, because whatever emerges from this weekend into the next, however Wall Street regulates itself or is regulated, the bigger and deeper economic issues will remain with us. They will only be remedied if leaders lead, exercise their power and authority, with the public good as well as the bottom line in mind. “The untamed opportunist in each of us,” May concludes, “ducks and dodges and will find a hundred ways to maneuver around regulations and reforms unless the interior constraints of covenant and calling begin to discipline the powers we wield.” (Page 158)

Authority and leadership. Let's go back to the Bible and see if there are any dots to connect. There is certainly something here about relationships – and the trust and encouragement that grows from covenantal relationships.

Moses cared deeply for the people, and continually risked his own life. This deep sense of caring was only made possible because of the care demonstrated by God at the Exodus itself. It seems that at the moment we meet them today, the Israelites forget all of that. They forget Moses’ great risk, and they forgot all that God had done to bring them to this place. And yet even then, in the face of huge frustration, Moses will not abandon and God will provide.

Jesus demonstrates that same deeply held sense of relationship – both to the people with whom he is ministering and to the God who has called him to this ministry. It is unbreakable. It is unbreakable in the face of religious pressure – like the presbytery or the bishop coming to call. It is unbreakable even in the face of threats to his own life, and we know where those threats will lead.

The authorities, on the other hand, care little for relationships. They enforce things for the sake of enforcement, rather than letting theology and religious practice serve as vehicles to faithfulness and service. Who cares where your authority comes from if you are healing and doing God’s work? One who is not in relationship. One who is driven by fear and insecurity. The Israelites and the elders constrain, restrict, maintain the status quo for its own sake, and miss the bigger and better picture.

And there must be something about expectations. Hear the testimony of our experts. Good leadership draws people out of themselves, beyond themselves, through authority that liberates.

There are moments when we will be put in the place of Moses, or Jesus, when we will be tested, and when the groups we are leading will question. There will be risk. But we trust, and are trusted. We lead to a set of principles and values.

There are moments when we will be put in the places of, and act like, the whining Israelites and the fearful, insecure elders. The gospel calls us to look at who we are, and then it calls us to move beyond who we are, to move beyond our fears.

There are moments when we follow where our leaders rightly lead us, and there are moments when leadership must be called into question, from passivity to pushback, as we heard in an ordination sermon yesterday.

Whatever the role, leader or follower, the portrait is clear and compelling. Have a vision. Build relationships. Encourage and be encouraged. Trust and be trusted. Let your own gifts be discovered and uncover the gifts in those around you.

You, and I – we – are called to lead. We are called to exercise authority. And we are called to follow. We are called to remember our baptism, which is really the only credential we will every need. We are called to question authority when the moment calls for it. We are called to be in relationship.

Martha Langford was installed a week ago and Lindsay Harren-Lewis was ordained a day ago. Both services were punctuated by the words of the Apostles’ Creed. “I believe. I believe. I believe.” I believe, we said, in God, in God’s people, in God’s community called the church. Sometimes a minister leads and sometimes a minister follows. But always to a vision. And always in trust and always in relationship – vertical and horizontal.

“I believe.” My sister sent me a video showing an inspiring young man leading a rally for Dallas educators. “I believe in me,” he told a roomful of teachers. “Do YOU believe in me?”

Where does this authority come from – to follow, to lead? I believe in you, God says to us, like water from a rock. I believe in you. That’s all we really need to know. Amen.