Introduction
The rise and fall of human powers and authorities throughout history should, perhaps, humble more than frighten us. It is to some degree reassuring that ‘earth’s proud empires flee away’ and ‘tow’r and temple fall to dust’. Sometimes, in letting go of power we gain confidence and can mediate something of God’s authority. Knowledge makes us feel powerful, but St Paul pithily shifts the emphasis: ‘knowledge puffs up, but love builds up’ (1 Corinthians 8:1b).
Context
It is unrealistic to expect Greece to repay its huge debt in full, the chief economics spokesman for the victorious Syriza party has told the BBC. ‘Nobody believes that the Greek debt is sustainable,’ Euclid Tsakalotos said. ‘I haven't met an economist in their heart of hearts that will tell you that Greece will pay back all of that debt. It can't be done.’ EU leaders have warned the new Greek government that it must live up to its commitments to the creditors. Syriza leader, Alexis Tsipras, was sworn in as prime minister on Monday.
Other European leaders are trying to be polite, congratulating a democratically elected leader, while wondering if his left-wing campaign will undermine the authority of that generally uncritical term ‘austerity’.
Contrasting the flurry of tweets about the implications of Greek politics for Europe, there were sombre silence and tears on the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. There we remember how small political steps, each seeming reasonable at the time, can lead a nation to a very evil place. We stand in horrified awe at the destructive possibility of a people’s projection of disappointment into the overblown rhetoric of one man. How dangerous it can be when we ascribe authority to the wrong things.
Reflection
The New Testament was, of course, written in Greek. The exotically curved letters of such an ancient language evoke centuries of myths, philosophy and political theory. Mention Greece and even those of us who haven’t been there can conjure up the thyme-scented heat, the crumbling ancient monuments, the glittering sea concealing undiscovered artefacts. Five centuries before Christ, among Greek city states, especially Athens, political power had begun to be shared among the people, d?µ?? (dêmos) ‘people’ and ???t?? (krátos) ‘power’ or ‘rule’ giving us the word democracy. We ascribe great authority to that word today. We are indebted to the Greeks.
And yet for all its historic influence, its current debt and prevailing caricatures of laziness and corruption are viewed with disdain. As a nation, Greece has very little power and her people are clinging onto ancient cultural authority. While enjoying our own relative democratic freedom, and taking righteous pleasure in, say, the first elections in Malawi, then South Africa in the 1990s, we have decided our ‘democracy’ gives us the authority to bomb and invade non-democratic countries. Meanwhile, depressingly low numbers turn out to vote in our own elections. We may wonder how long our democratic authority will last if, on the one hand, we continue to load the word with inappropriate power and if, on the other, we continue to be so politically disengaged. We, too, have lost an empire, and perhaps we, too, might look as tired and crumbly as Greece in a couple of centuries. How things move on…how they don’t move on.
Our three readings give us helpful markers, by which to orientate ourselves. In Deuteronomy 18, Moses anticipates Israel’s future without him and holds before them the hope of another great prophet. Here, for once, he does admit he has, by God’s grace, done a reasonable job. We should not forget the loneliness, exhaustion and wrestling he has done as intercessor between God and people. (While being a prophetic community ready to challenge worldly authorities, we should also, perhaps, be people who understand the cost of leadership and, not satisfied with caricatures of politicians, should pray for them in their odd isolation.) Deuteronomy humbles us as, Greek, British, Russian or Syrian, we can all admit to craving inspirational leaders. The Holocaust anniversary, however, shows how unhealthy that craving can be, and how power without moral authority is deadly.
St Paul writes to the bustling Greek city of Corinth, a multi-cultural trading centre, where we find the opposite problem. Here, rampant individualism marks their excitable community. There is not enough order, togetherness, coherence. Even in the conduct of Christian worship, Paul finds, some are having a great time and some are excluded (Chapter 11). His letter asks them to tighten up their act. Today’s reading interestingly admits it may be perfectly all right for someone to eat a certain kind of food (yes we are individually ‘free’), but he illustrates how our personal choices can unwittingly harm others (vv.11-12). It may be morally acceptable to behave in such and such a way, but it may not be compassionate or wise. We can apply this reflection to recent heart searching about liberty and equality expounded in France, sometimes to the neglect of ‘fraternity.’ As Sam Wells put it on Radio 4’s Thought for the Day, ‘We call [fraternity] the Kingdom of God’.
With his sparing, exquisitely chosen Greek words, Mark has launched us into the good news of Jesus. We hear Jesus speaking with a definitive and moving authority, acting with life-changing power. It is striking that we hear hardly any of the content of Jesus’ teaching until much later. Mark wants us first to feel in our gut the combination of power and authority in Jesus’ character. We can imagine the Scribes’ hurt as they overhear the gossip, that Jesus speaks, unlike them, with ????s?a (exousia). This word conveys a sense of Jesus’ freedom and energy to express his inmost self in action for others. The scribes have masses of knowledge and a good deal of power: power to exclude, to punish, to forbid, to tax. Their detailed knowledge gives them power to say ‘no,’ but they lack authority, which is the freedom to express the life-giving ‘Yes’ of God. By contrast, Jesus’ authority grows and grows with every page until, even with all his power taken away, in his mock trial and all too real death he still commands our attention, and the cross shimmers with strange authority.
In different seasons and under different regimes, we can trust God will raise up among us whomsoever we need to say the different things he wants us to hear, but to hear we must listen. Everyone has their own prayerful individual part to play in Church and society to ensure authority is perpetually earned and power is continually used well for the common good.
After all this wordy thinking it might be healthy to sink into Psalm 111 (and 112, which is really its second half) where in worship we nurture wisdom. Or sing ‘All my hope on God is founded’ or, in the evening, ‘The day thou gavest’.
Prayer
Once again, Kyrie eleison may be a helpfully evocative confession this week. Singing these Greek words (Lord, have mercy) opens up all the complexity of Greek influence past and present. Singing to a wistful Ukrainian tune (in the public domain: search on Kyrie eleison Russian; also in hymn books, e.g. Common Ground no.69) makes room to feel the ambiguities about Russian power (it was the Red Army who liberated Auschwitz; meanwhile Russian behaviour towards Ukraine today is surely questionable). Such resonant, evocative prayer may be best without over-interpretation.
For the Church:
- A demon shrieked in recognition of your authority and Jesus said ‘Be silent.’
- We claim to know you. You send us to tell the good news, yet we live in embarrassed silence.
- Teach your church to speak confidently of you,
and help us to match our talk of your Kingdom with deeds that heal a bewildered world.
For the world:
- We pray for Greece; for her relationship with the rest of Europe; for her relationships looking East to Turkey, and Syria beyond.
- Heal our unhealthy dependency as we swerve between treating leaders as celebrities then demons.
- In this and every nation, nurture mature responsibility, compassionate realism and common purpose.
- We pray for people who have suffered through the abuse of power from a bullying regime, in a harsh work place, or in a hurtful relationship.
For the sick:
- We pray especially this week for those who live with mental illness that makes them feel excluded.
- We pray for our hospitality to those whose behaviour we find unpredictable. [Include prayers for local support services here, if you wish.]
- The man in the temple taught those around him about you before he was healed.
- Open our hearts to learn from those who are sick as much as those who are well.
Questions
How well would you say your church community responds to people whose mental health leads to disruptive or unsettling behaviour?
Action
If you catch sight this week of a picture of a leader or politician whom you really loathe, try to hold their image in mind for a little while and see if you can find a way of praying for them. It need not be a prayer composed of words
Young people
Are all the young people in your church who will be eligible to vote in May registered? Is there anything you can do to encourage them?
David Warbrick is Parish Priest for All Saints Kings Heath in the Anglican Diocese of Birmingham, where he has served in diverse contexts for twenty-two years.
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