One-of-a-kind-God
19th Sunday after Pentecost
Matthew 21:23-32
We’ve watched a couple of powerful hurricanes over these past weeks. We have watched them produce the kind of destruction that only nature seems to have the power to produce. When Mother Nature starts cranking up this way, about all we can do is get out of the way, wait for her to get through with her tirade, and then move back in to clean up the aftermath of her wrath.
In sharp contrast to behavior prior to Katrina, governmental officials this time around got busy in a hurry, and the words “evacuation” and “mandatory” got thrown around faster than Rita could build out there in the Gulf. I was particularly impressed by the mayor of Galveston, Lyda Ann Thomas. I pulled up her resume online the other night, and it reads like a Who’s Who of Galveston community service – she knows that city – she’s a native of the island, I think third generation. I watched some news reporter interview her Thursday evening, and she stood on the sea wall there at Galveston and said, “This wall will be here when the hurricane has come and gone.” She knows what she’s talking about – she served on the Seawall Overlay Committee of that city, and I suspect she knows the structural integrity of that seawall about as good as anyone. And to boot, she has some experience with Galveston and hurricanes – she said that she’s never run from one yet, and that’s certainly something to say.
Lyda Ann Thomas comes across as a no-nonsense lady who is well into her golden years, has the title of mayor under her belt, and has a little history with her island and the forces of Mother Nature – so when she said the words “mandatory evacuation” the other day, her authority and her experience spoke with a booming voice, and Galvestonians got in their cars and left town. Then she looked at the camera, and said, “We’ll hold down the fort for you while you’re gone.” She stayed for this one, too.
I suspect that each one of us has some area of our lives where we ought to have that same kind of pull – that same kind of authority. When Gary Shields says that he’s throwing a certain kind of lure, you’ll probably catch me switching lures. When Mike Pontious says that I need to take my medicine, you’ll find me on the way to the drug store. When John Stambaugh says that I can’t deduct something, I change the way I started to put it on my tax return, and give Uncle Sam a little more money. Most of that authority that we possess in those areas comes from knowledge and experience.
Then there is the authority of personality. Some who walk among us in this life possess an extraordinary persona – a sense of self that translates into leadership and power that most of us only aspire to in our better moments.
I want you to turn your bulletin over for a moment and look on the back. You may have noticed that we printed something different on the back this morning. That is a likeness of the Shroud of Turin. You know some of the history of this ancient artifact – many purport it to be the actual burial cloth that wrapped Jesus in the tomb. Some years ago, carbon dating seemed to validate that claim, and then later testing seems to prove that it is actually only about 700 years old, and even later testing seems to prove that the carbon dating which has been used on this ancient cloth is actually invalid. So, we really don’t know. About the most we can say is “maybe.” My purpose for providing you with this image this morning is not to prove a point, but to give us a point of focus. You might want to glance down at your bulletin occasionally during the sermon, and look at the image that is printed there.
As the one and only Son of God, Jesus Christ possessed an authority unparalleled by any other man who has ever lived. Today, you and I would hardly question that. We have the right to ask questions, you know. In fact, we are expected to ask questions, and to discern truth for ourselves with the aid of the Spirit of God. Everything I say to you this morning should be under scrutiny as to its truthfulness, its validity, and its value for your life. You and I have the right – even the responsibility to ask questions of those who teach us.
We can take that a step further – and many do - with great pleasure. We call it Bible Study, or Sunday School. In our Bible Study classes, we encourage people to ask questions. One of the things that I really like about our church is that people are truly free to ask their questions. Somehow, we have come to agreement that it is not the asking of the questions that is problematic. We believe that the bible can stand up to our scrutiny, really no matter the depth of that scrutiny.
And then there’s another level of questioning. At some point in our individual journeys, we look the man Jesus straight in the face and ask Him the same question that was asked of Him by the religious leaders of His day.
What happened that gave rise to their questions? Chapter 21 of Matthew begins with the Triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. He didn’t just show up – He showed up in a big way. I went to Cottonwood Falls, Kansas this Thursday and Friday to spend time with some preacher friends and do some advanced planning for Advent. We stayed at the Grand Central hotel – right there on Main Street. I suspect that their name is a little over the top – you’d be hard pressed to find any other hotels in town. Anyway, as we were checking out Friday about 1:30, they had their Homecoming parade right down Main Street. We were parked there on the street, and we couldn’t get out – for 10 whole minutes. Not many people in Cottonwood Falls, so the Homecoming parade doesn’t take very long. The way Jesus came into town puts me in mind of that kind of small town event. Not really all that big, but everyone in Jerusalem noticed – everyone. Especially the religious leaders. He rode into town like a king, and that made the Jewish leaders and the Romans a might nervous. Then Jesus went over to the Temple and, shall we say, got a little crazy. He turned over the tables of the money changers, then picked up a whip and drove them out of the place, with His words ringing in their ears – “You have made my Father’s house a den of thieves, rather than a house of prayer.” Then, for good measure, Jesus curses a fig tree for not being productive, showing once again his power over nature.
The leaders had enough. They confronted Him. “By what authority are You doing these things, and who gave You this authority?”
It really is the same question that we ask Jesus. We deserve an answer. All of us do. But as with all of us, when we are asked a question of this magnitude, we should be allowed to frame the response in whatever manner we want. That’s exactly what Jesus did. He said, “I’ll answer your question, if you answer My question first.” Pretty good response. Then He said, “John’s baptism – what was his source – God or men?”
I like what Jesus did in this exchange. He asked a question back to them, but it wasn’t really the question of the day. It was a diversion. They had to struggle with the answer, but I suspect they wouldn’t have been satisfied with any answer He would have given to them. In this case, because they didn’t answer Him, He didn’t answer them back. Instead, He told a parable about two sons. One feigned obedience, and then went to do his own thing. The other balked at obedience, and then relented unto obedience. He asked them which son was obedient, and they could answer that question. They asked about authority, and He told a parable about obedience that made them look like a band of slack-jawed monkeys, which, in the end, just ticked them off all the more. Well, that and His assertion that IRS agents and prostitutes would get into heaven before they would.
They missed His point, and so might we if we have the audacity to ask Jesus about His authority. You see, from Jesus’ vantage point, the issue of authority is coupled with the issue of obedience. In the end, His life becomes the perfect example of the “gold of authority” refined in the “fire of obedience.” We don’t see it because we look at the scenario of authority through constantly disobedient eyes and hearts. But Jesus looked through the eyes and heart of total, complete obedience. He had been doing that for a while. Our first glimpse is when as a 12 year old boy, he let Mom and Dad know that He was about the business of being obedient – to God. We see more of His obedience in the desert when He is tempted of the devil. And we see it again here.
You know, occasionally – just occasionally – I have such a prompting of the Spirit of God that I throw all caution to the wind, and say something to the effect “I don’t care what anyone thinks, feels, or tries to do to me. This is direction from God, and I’m going to do it.” Just occasionally. Not nearly enough that you could describe me as “obedient,” and certainly not enough that you could describe me as “authoritative.”
Jesus was different from us. A One-of-a-kind-man, really. And He was a One-of-a-kind-God, as well. “God became Man, and dwelt among us.” That’s the way John puts it in his gospel. Authority becomes obedience. That’s the way Jesus put it.
I wondered all week about where I wanted this sermon to go. I guess to this place – authority is at issue for all of us in our lives. Certainly in our relationships, and in our day to day, work-a-day worlds. We crave greater authority. The same is true in our lives of faith. We yearn for faith lives that speak with authority. We seek that faith authority in our study, and our theological deliberations. We assume authority on the basis of our tenure of service and belief. But Jesus looks us straight in the eye and reminds us that true authority is a matter of obedience. The faith that we desire, cloaked in authority, is worked out in the world through our obedience.
This week, I suspect each one of us will run up against an issue of spiritual authority. We will come to a point in our walk this week where we want to test the authority of God, resident in our lives as believers. Jesus reminds us that the only way that we will find that we possess authority is if we practice obedience.
Richard W. Dunn, Ph.D.
Matthew 21:23-32
We’ve watched a couple of powerful hurricanes over these past weeks. We have watched them produce the kind of destruction that only nature seems to have the power to produce. When Mother Nature starts cranking up this way, about all we can do is get out of the way, wait for her to get through with her tirade, and then move back in to clean up the aftermath of her wrath.
In sharp contrast to behavior prior to Katrina, governmental officials this time around got busy in a hurry, and the words “evacuation” and “mandatory” got thrown around faster than Rita could build out there in the Gulf. I was particularly impressed by the mayor of Galveston, Lyda Ann Thomas. I pulled up her resume online the other night, and it reads like a Who’s Who of Galveston community service – she knows that city – she’s a native of the island, I think third generation. I watched some news reporter interview her Thursday evening, and she stood on the sea wall there at Galveston and said, “This wall will be here when the hurricane has come and gone.” She knows what she’s talking about – she served on the Seawall Overlay Committee of that city, and I suspect she knows the structural integrity of that seawall about as good as anyone. And to boot, she has some experience with Galveston and hurricanes – she said that she’s never run from one yet, and that’s certainly something to say.
Lyda Ann Thomas comes across as a no-nonsense lady who is well into her golden years, has the title of mayor under her belt, and has a little history with her island and the forces of Mother Nature – so when she said the words “mandatory evacuation” the other day, her authority and her experience spoke with a booming voice, and Galvestonians got in their cars and left town. Then she looked at the camera, and said, “We’ll hold down the fort for you while you’re gone.” She stayed for this one, too.
I suspect that each one of us has some area of our lives where we ought to have that same kind of pull – that same kind of authority. When Gary Shields says that he’s throwing a certain kind of lure, you’ll probably catch me switching lures. When Mike Pontious says that I need to take my medicine, you’ll find me on the way to the drug store. When John Stambaugh says that I can’t deduct something, I change the way I started to put it on my tax return, and give Uncle Sam a little more money. Most of that authority that we possess in those areas comes from knowledge and experience.
Then there is the authority of personality. Some who walk among us in this life possess an extraordinary persona – a sense of self that translates into leadership and power that most of us only aspire to in our better moments.
I want you to turn your bulletin over for a moment and look on the back. You may have noticed that we printed something different on the back this morning. That is a likeness of the Shroud of Turin. You know some of the history of this ancient artifact – many purport it to be the actual burial cloth that wrapped Jesus in the tomb. Some years ago, carbon dating seemed to validate that claim, and then later testing seems to prove that it is actually only about 700 years old, and even later testing seems to prove that the carbon dating which has been used on this ancient cloth is actually invalid. So, we really don’t know. About the most we can say is “maybe.” My purpose for providing you with this image this morning is not to prove a point, but to give us a point of focus. You might want to glance down at your bulletin occasionally during the sermon, and look at the image that is printed there.
As the one and only Son of God, Jesus Christ possessed an authority unparalleled by any other man who has ever lived. Today, you and I would hardly question that. We have the right to ask questions, you know. In fact, we are expected to ask questions, and to discern truth for ourselves with the aid of the Spirit of God. Everything I say to you this morning should be under scrutiny as to its truthfulness, its validity, and its value for your life. You and I have the right – even the responsibility to ask questions of those who teach us.
We can take that a step further – and many do - with great pleasure. We call it Bible Study, or Sunday School. In our Bible Study classes, we encourage people to ask questions. One of the things that I really like about our church is that people are truly free to ask their questions. Somehow, we have come to agreement that it is not the asking of the questions that is problematic. We believe that the bible can stand up to our scrutiny, really no matter the depth of that scrutiny.
And then there’s another level of questioning. At some point in our individual journeys, we look the man Jesus straight in the face and ask Him the same question that was asked of Him by the religious leaders of His day.
What happened that gave rise to their questions? Chapter 21 of Matthew begins with the Triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. He didn’t just show up – He showed up in a big way. I went to Cottonwood Falls, Kansas this Thursday and Friday to spend time with some preacher friends and do some advanced planning for Advent. We stayed at the Grand Central hotel – right there on Main Street. I suspect that their name is a little over the top – you’d be hard pressed to find any other hotels in town. Anyway, as we were checking out Friday about 1:30, they had their Homecoming parade right down Main Street. We were parked there on the street, and we couldn’t get out – for 10 whole minutes. Not many people in Cottonwood Falls, so the Homecoming parade doesn’t take very long. The way Jesus came into town puts me in mind of that kind of small town event. Not really all that big, but everyone in Jerusalem noticed – everyone. Especially the religious leaders. He rode into town like a king, and that made the Jewish leaders and the Romans a might nervous. Then Jesus went over to the Temple and, shall we say, got a little crazy. He turned over the tables of the money changers, then picked up a whip and drove them out of the place, with His words ringing in their ears – “You have made my Father’s house a den of thieves, rather than a house of prayer.” Then, for good measure, Jesus curses a fig tree for not being productive, showing once again his power over nature.
The leaders had enough. They confronted Him. “By what authority are You doing these things, and who gave You this authority?”
It really is the same question that we ask Jesus. We deserve an answer. All of us do. But as with all of us, when we are asked a question of this magnitude, we should be allowed to frame the response in whatever manner we want. That’s exactly what Jesus did. He said, “I’ll answer your question, if you answer My question first.” Pretty good response. Then He said, “John’s baptism – what was his source – God or men?”
I like what Jesus did in this exchange. He asked a question back to them, but it wasn’t really the question of the day. It was a diversion. They had to struggle with the answer, but I suspect they wouldn’t have been satisfied with any answer He would have given to them. In this case, because they didn’t answer Him, He didn’t answer them back. Instead, He told a parable about two sons. One feigned obedience, and then went to do his own thing. The other balked at obedience, and then relented unto obedience. He asked them which son was obedient, and they could answer that question. They asked about authority, and He told a parable about obedience that made them look like a band of slack-jawed monkeys, which, in the end, just ticked them off all the more. Well, that and His assertion that IRS agents and prostitutes would get into heaven before they would.
They missed His point, and so might we if we have the audacity to ask Jesus about His authority. You see, from Jesus’ vantage point, the issue of authority is coupled with the issue of obedience. In the end, His life becomes the perfect example of the “gold of authority” refined in the “fire of obedience.” We don’t see it because we look at the scenario of authority through constantly disobedient eyes and hearts. But Jesus looked through the eyes and heart of total, complete obedience. He had been doing that for a while. Our first glimpse is when as a 12 year old boy, he let Mom and Dad know that He was about the business of being obedient – to God. We see more of His obedience in the desert when He is tempted of the devil. And we see it again here.
You know, occasionally – just occasionally – I have such a prompting of the Spirit of God that I throw all caution to the wind, and say something to the effect “I don’t care what anyone thinks, feels, or tries to do to me. This is direction from God, and I’m going to do it.” Just occasionally. Not nearly enough that you could describe me as “obedient,” and certainly not enough that you could describe me as “authoritative.”
Jesus was different from us. A One-of-a-kind-man, really. And He was a One-of-a-kind-God, as well. “God became Man, and dwelt among us.” That’s the way John puts it in his gospel. Authority becomes obedience. That’s the way Jesus put it.
I wondered all week about where I wanted this sermon to go. I guess to this place – authority is at issue for all of us in our lives. Certainly in our relationships, and in our day to day, work-a-day worlds. We crave greater authority. The same is true in our lives of faith. We yearn for faith lives that speak with authority. We seek that faith authority in our study, and our theological deliberations. We assume authority on the basis of our tenure of service and belief. But Jesus looks us straight in the eye and reminds us that true authority is a matter of obedience. The faith that we desire, cloaked in authority, is worked out in the world through our obedience.
This week, I suspect each one of us will run up against an issue of spiritual authority. We will come to a point in our walk this week where we want to test the authority of God, resident in our lives as believers. Jesus reminds us that the only way that we will find that we possess authority is if we practice obedience.
Richard W. Dunn, Ph.D.
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