As One Having Authority

Scripture Lessons: Deuteronomy 18: 15-20 and Mark 1: 21-28 Sermon Title: As One Having Authority Preached on January 31, 2021 In this Second Scripture Lesson from the Gospel of Mark Jesus is described twice, “as one having authority.” Wouldn’t you like for people to describe you that way? How could I get our children to describe me that way? At our house, it’s like I’m Rodney Dangerfield, “I don’t get no respect!” So, how do we get it? The answer is there in passage. When a man with an unclean spirit cried out to him, “what have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” Jesus rebuked the spirit saying, “Be silent,” and then commanded the spirit to “come out” and it did. His words had power, because they weren’t empty. He said, “come out” to the unclean spirit and it did, so if he told you, “take out the garbage or your grounded” you knew he was serious and if he said he loved you it was clear he meant it. What then is the difference between him and the rest? Why is it worth mentioning that he spoke as one having authority? What’s the difference between Jesus and all the empty suits, windbags, and braggadocios whose words we hear but know we can’t take to the bank? Here’s the difference: He actually does what everyone else just talked about doing. To him, it’s not just words. It was never just speech. If Jesus were to run for President, you could take all his campaign promises, not with a grain of salt but knowing that he was as good as his word. There haven’t been many presidents like that. In fact, some historians say that there was only one. People in Columbia, Tennessee are glad to tell you who it was. Every citizen of Columbia is happy to tell you all about it, because this great town south of Nashville where we lived before moving back here to Marietta, is especially proud of James K. Polk, the 11th President of the United States, who lived there. President Polk was actually born in North Carolina, but don’t try to tell anyone in Columbia, Tennessee that. They’re not interested in where the man was born. He was from Columbia, and while he was running for president, he lived in a house that’s now right across the street from the presbyterian church. Folks are proud of that, so the Presbyterians in Columbia are quick to tell you that the “K” in James K. Polk stands for Knox, for he was a direct descendant of that great Scottish leader of the Presbyterian Church, John Knox, but the Methodists will be quick to tell you that he had a death bed conversion and became a Methodist. Now, this is true, even though it sounds like it couldn’t be. The first time I was in the First Methodist Church in Columbia I looked closely at the great rose window in their sanctuary. It’s a beautiful stained-glass window, but I did a double take the first time I saw it, because I expected it to be Jesus’ to be in the center. He’s not. It’s the 11th President, James K. Polk, who the Methodists claim as one of their own. Now, what’s the point of me telling you all this? I’ll tell you. A close friend of mine, Tom Price, was one of the historians on staff at the Polk Home, and when Tom was giving his standard speech on President Polk, as he was often called on to do, he would always say that Polk only made four campaign promises: 1. To expand the borders of our country, which he did through the acquisition of the Oregon Territory, California, New Mexico, and settling the Texas border dispute. 2. To lower tariffs, which he did. 3. The establishment of a new federal depository system, done in four years. 4. And the strengthening of the executive office, mission accomplished. Many historians will say that he left office at the end of this first term not seeking reelection, and as the most successful president since George Washington. Anyone is Columbia, Tennessee will tell you that he left office as the most successful president of all time, and I’ll agree with them because he did what he said he would do. It’s amazing. Is that not amazing? And is it not amazing that we think living up to campaign promises is amazing? Why have we grown used to accepting false hope, half-truths, and good tries. I don’t know, but when people heard Jesus they were impressed, and when they saw how he lived they knew that he teaches as “one having authority.” That he’s not like the scribes who just talk about the Scriptures. He’s actually living them. He’s not going for personal glory; he wants to glorify his Father in Heaven. He wasn’t all talk and no action. His words had authority because of his actions. It’s a rare thing to find a president like that, it’s a gift to find a person like that, and unfortunately, the world has seen far too many churches who were just too good at saying one thing while doing another. I’ve been talking about presidents, but this event in the life of Jesus described in our Second Scripture Lesson doesn’t take place in Town Hall or congress. It’s an exorcism that takes place, not in a place where people do political things but in one of those places where people worship, a synagogue. The place where all people are supposed to be welcome, but let’s be honest, not everyone always is. Verse 23 makes it plain who belonged there and who didn’t: “Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit,” as though the synagogue belonged to those who had it all together and not those who needed a little help. Their synagogue. Who’s synagogue? Is it not always God’s synagogue, where sinners like us are always welcome? Was this place and so many others like it not created to be a place of prayer for all people? The Pope was clear a few years ago: “the church is a field hospital for the sick,” but how often is it more like a place for the upright to gather together away from the rest of the world? How often have you invited someone to church to hear them say, “I’m not sure I belong there?” Who does belong here and who doesn’t? I don’t know, but something we try to make clear Sunday after Sunday is that sinners are welcome. The broken are embraced. Those who hold their head too high or think they have it all together really have no need for what we have to offer, for what good is grace to the perfect and who needs forgiveness but those who have made a mistake? Every Sunday we pray a prayer of confession. That’s a counter cultural thing to do. Sometimes I can’t believe that we do it, but we do. Sunday after Sunday we pray it all together. Today it went like this: Most merciful God, I sing, “May Jesus Christ be praised!” but I confess that through my words and actions Jesus Christ is not always praised. Forgive me Lord, for while I worship you in the company of the upright, too often I stoop down to the level of the self-centered and self-righteous. We say words like that in here, and we know they’re true, but we also have to live them. What good does it do us or anyone else if we come to worship God and confess our imperfection, then live our whole week according to a standard of perfection rather than a standard of grace? What good does it do us or anyone else if we make plain our faults before God than hide our faults away as soon as we get back to living? What good does it do the world if we aren’t constantly proclaiming a gospel of forgiveness in a culture of “three strikes and you’re out”? What good is this faith of ours if it doesn’t change the way we live, if it doesn’t change the way we see ourselves, if it doesn’t change the way we treat each other? There was a man in the synagogue with an unclean spirit and he cried out, “What have you to do with us Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” That’s how it feels to a whole lot of people. What have you to do with me church lady, have you come to judge me? What are you doing here preacher? Have you come to make me feel guilty? What are you doing here Jesus, have you come to destroy us? You know the answer. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those are good words. A lot of people have them memorized. But they don’t matter unless we live them. We are too often those without any authority, because too often we don’t live the faith that we profess. We fight over who gets to put the presidents name on church’s membership roll, and don’t know what to do when less prestigious members of society walk through our doors. I’ve seen it. I’ve been a part of it. And often, it’s the least of these who reveal who we truly are. Do you remember the last time it happened here? Rev. Cassie Waits was giving the benediction. This was a long time ago when a whole bunch of people were able to come and sit in this room. Along with everyone else was a man who was about to be evicted. He interrupted Cassie while she was giving the benediction and announced to this whole church, “I need some help” in a loud voice. For a long few seconds no one knew what to do. Presbyterians don’t even clap, much less shout in the middle of a worship service, so I walked up to him and was walking him out of our church, but as I walked up that aisle you started slipping money into my hands. By the time we were out the door there was enough to pay three months’ rent, which was nothing short of a miracle, but I’m telling you this story today because it was in that moment that I knew fully who we are. It was the man with an unclean spirit who saw Jesus for who he was, and it was the man who shouted out his need in the middle of a worship service who revealed the heart of this congregation. He knew us. He revealed our identity. He reminded us of who we are and what we were created to be. For that reason and many others, I am daily so proud to serve this church. It is a constant gift to walk through these doors and when people ask me who I am and what I do I tell them, “My name is Joe Evans and I am proud to serve First Presbyterian Church as one of her pastors.” And then they’ll say, as they did at the school board about a year ago: “yours is the church who has made a difference to so many children through Club 3:30,” or “I’ve seen the wall of pictures of all the Habitat Houses ya’ll built,” or more recently, “thank you for feeding so many families by giving them food in your parking lot.” You see, the world around us knows us not by what we say. We only have authority when our words and our actions match up. May it always be so. Amen.