28 September 2008

The Rev'd Lloyd Prator

New York City

Authority is a funny thing. Sometimes it comes from raw power. Last week I saw the new film “Righteous Kill”, and in that movie, one of the actors talks abut respect of folks for the police. “I became a copy because most people respect the badge.” Pregnant pause. “And everyone respects the gun.”

Raw power, respect from the authority of force as status.

And that is real power, no doubt about it. But there is another kind of power, another kind of authority. Let me tell you something about clergy – maybe more than you want to know. There is a certain pecking order among clergy, certain clergy who have more authority than others. You might think that one cleric who surely would have that authority would be the Bishop – and sometimes they do. But not always.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. When I was a newly ordained priest, I served in a city with about twenty parishes. One of these parishes had a priest named James. He was universally respected and when he spoke, people listened. Like the people in the story, we were looking for someone with authority and when James spoke, people listened. Rector of a powerful parish? Nope. Little run-down place in the slums. Not even a rector, because this parish did not even have the money for a full-time priest’s salary, so he was just a priest in charge. Possessor of lofty degrees and a publication list? Nope. Doubt he ever wrote anything other than letters to his mother. Ambitious cleric on the way up? Nope, he stayed right where he was until he retired.

But in a meeting, when he spoke, people put down their coffee cups and listened. In his church, during Lent, the line in front of he confessional went back quite a way because he spoke words of forgiveness that stirred the heart and freed the soul. And many who came to him were other priests seeking his counsel. I know. I was one of them.

You could call it integrity; you could call it wisdom; you could call it charity; and you could call it loving service. But what it was gave James authority. There was something going in on him that gave him authority.

The point about today’s gospel is this: Real authority comes from within. It comes from movements within the mind or the heart. Not from badges, or guns, or prestigious publications or sought for positions, it comes from something stirring within the soul.

And to give an example, Jesus tells about a man with two sons, both who were needed for work in the vineyard. He told the first to go work, and the first said “Nope, won’t do it.” And then later, something stirred in him and he decided to go anyway. The father went to the second son and dispatched him too. He said “Sure; I will go, right now.“ But he did not go.

In just a couple of words, Jesus explains the process: “Later he changed his mind and he went.” Something was going on in his mind and he decided to respond to the Father the way the Father wanted.

Now, this is not a sermon about obeying your parents. It is not a sermon about family responsibility and shouldering one’s share of the burden. It is a sermon about the little movements in the soul which, over time, give us authority.

What do I mean?

I mean this:

First, when you are in a position where you must make a response to something important, take some time to chew it over. People who come to me for guidance are often told, in the case of major decisions, to consider making a retreat or taking a quiet day, or engaging in some of the spiritual exercises of the giants in order to form the mind and engage the conscience.

Second, when you must respond to something important, get back to basics. The thing we all admired about James was that he was at the heart of the matter, a priest. Not a powerful or rich one, not one in a tasteful endowed parish, not one with a national reputation for style or elegance.
But he was at the level of the heart, at the center of the soul, a person who cared for others souls. One time, I head him say, speaking of his own work, “I am just an ordinary priest with the sacrament in my hand.” He remembered, first and last, the promises he made at his ordination. Same holds true for all of us. When you must respond to something important, consider — well, maybe your marriage vows. Or the promises you made to another whom you love. Consider the things which draw you closer to the God who made you. Consider the things which really delight the soul – not just the things which pad the pocketbook, fill out the IRA or the 401K, or feel like fun for the moment. What are the things which last?

If you know those things, if you reflect upon them and give them time to take root in the heart, if you make judgments by standing them up against the yardstick of the eternal, you will be a person of authority. For down inside, where the heart moves, you will be developing the authority that alone is true and lasting.

And, as Jesus says in closing, it is those things, not matters of prestige and position, which draw you into the kingdom of the one who has true authority, the authority of the real Father and the authority which through the spirit is poured out upon his people. To that God, Father, son and Spirit, be honor and glory now and forever.