A year or so ago I think I remember sharing a story with you that my son Jason told me after he had volunteered several weeks of time and effort helping to install portable water treatment systems in southern Louisiana and  Mississippi in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. It was a story about a man in a blue shirt, but a man who never existed except in the creative imagination of a retired civil engineer who was Jason’s helper on a project they were involved with, and then in Jason’s own creative imagination as well.

 

As the story went, Jason and George Kirby, the seasoned and imaginative old civil engineer, had been assigned by the relief agency they were working with to install one of the treatment systems that was mounted on a trailer that they pulled behind their truck in a rural community that was adjacent to an inland lake in South Louisiana, a lake that had come up over its banks during the storm, so that the ground around the lake was too soft to support the weight of the trailer mounted system. As they had approached the site, though, they noticed that there was a big pile of ¾-inch limestone that the Army Corps of Engineers had brought in, and there were two Caterpillar end loaders that the Corps had also brought in, apparently, parked next to the stone pile. Also, Jason said, 30-yards beyond the end-loaders, there were two Army reservists sitting on a picnic table drinking coffee, with their rifles propped up against the table.

 

As the story went, George, the crafty old civil engineer, says to Jason, according to Jason, “Son, can you operate an end-loader? Because if you can, we’ll build us a base to park our treatment system down by the lake, and a road so people can get to it.”

 

Jason said he could but then allowed as how they didn’t have any authority to use either the end loaders or the stone for that purpose. “Besides,” Jason said he said, “Those guys have guns!”

 

Then George taught Jason the secret of successful civil engineering. “If they ask you what you’re doing, just act like you belong there, and tell them, ‘the man in the blue shirt said it’d be OK.’” So Jason did, he says, and, sure enough, the soldiers asked; and sure enough he said, ‘The man in the blue shirt said it’d be OK; and, sure enough, the soldiers said OK, went back to drinking coffee, and a water treatment system got installed where it needed to be that afternoon.

 

It’s all about authority, isn’t it – who assumes it and how, and who respects it? “They went to Capernaum,” our lesson says, “and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them not as the scribes, but as one having authority.” And when a man possessed by an unclean spirit comes crashing into the room, Jesus rebukes the Spirit, sends it packing, and heals the man. And the folks who are watching are amazed, and they ask one another, “What in the world is this? A new teaching – one with authority! He commands even unclean spirits, and they obey him.” It’s all about authority.

 

It is all about authority, isn’t it, who looks for it and who do we give it to? Do we give it to Jesus? Or do we give it to other contenders for authority in and over our lives. There were other contenders for Jesus’ authority in ancient Capernaum, you know. The authority of traditional religion, faith done the old fashioned, same-o, same-o way would have been one. You go to Shabbat on Friday nights, you say your prayers, on the Sabbath you have your rest, and begin the work-a-day-week after that. Things don’t change and aren’t supposed to. The tradition is the authority. Or, the power of Rome and the governing bureaucrats would have been an authority. Caesar was powerful and claimed authority and the people gave it to him. Same for Herod the king, and Pontius Pilate, the procurator. Or, the promise of riches or happiness or freedom from pain would have been authoritative, just as they are for us.

 

But Jesus exhibits a different kind of authority, one that is flip-flop, the opposite of the things that tend to claim they have authority and that people tend to give authority. Physical strength and intellect and toughness, and first strike capability are just a few. But Jesus’ authority is gentle, yet more powerful than all these others. And when Jesus claimed to have authority they gave it to him in ancient Capernaum.

 

We must as well. The authority of Jesus must rise above all others for us, above the pundits and the proponents of only the prudent, above Rush Limbaugh, Bill O’Reilly, Pat Buchanan, and Rick Warren, certainly; but above Rachel Maddow, Chris Matthews, Ed Shultz, and David Gregory as well; above John Boehner, Newt Gingrich, and Mitt Romney, certainly; but also above Barack Obama, Joe Biden, and Hillary Clinton.

 

An authority above all others is the one we’re called to follow, an authority that astounds and the only one that truly does; an authority that amazes because it teaches something that isn’t advocated anywhere else or by anybody else, peace instead of power, and love instead of fear; an authority that heals instead of hurts. That’s the authority we are called to follow. An authority named Jesus is the one we are called to follow…and always must.

 

If we do, really do, then because of what we do, because of our being missional people in a missional church following a risen savior who is our ultimate authority, the fame of the authority we follow in lieu of all others fame will spread, throughout the surrounding region, of Galilee, the United States, the world, and the universe. That’s how big the stakes in all of this really are.

 

Thank you for your tolerance, patience, and love this past year and a half. You will always be in our prayers, please keep us in yours.

 

Amen.