| Authority
seems to be an issue for Christians these days. People write
book after book and preach sermon after sermon about who has
authority over whom and why. Teachers must teach with
authority; husbands claim authority over their wives; “shepherds”
need authority over their “sheep.” We can’t talk about
church without concentrating on church government. We seem
unable to think about marriage without asking who has authority in
it. And we can’t even listen to the Bible unless we have
first heard the latest word on its authority. Seems to be a
problem.
Maybe it is more of a problem in America because we don’t
usually think of ourselves as subject to authority. We think
of ourselves as “free,” able to do as we please. Even so,
our lives are filled with people and structures which demand our
obedience. The police officer on the corner and the IRS have
authority. |
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Authority is not just the ability to compel another person. We
call that “power.” Power is shared by both cops and robbers.
Yet only the cop has “authority”–the morally legitimated ability to
compel another. Indeed, this is our common notion of authority–it
is a legitimated ability to compel another, backed (if need be) by
force. Yet this common notion doesn’t work when transferred into
Christian contexts, for Jesus and his disciples have a very different
vision of authority.
Jesus’ disturbing teaching about authority among his followers
contrasts their experience of it with every other society. The
kings of the Gentiles, he said, lord it over their subjects and make
that appear good by calling themselves “benefactors.” They
exercise their power and try (more or less successfully) to make people
think that it is for their own good. But it should never be so in
the church. There, on the contrary, the one who leads is as a
slave and the one who rules is as the youngest (Lk 22:24-27). Lest
this lose its impact, you should stop to reflect that the youngest and
the slaves are precisely those without authority in our normal sense of
the word. Yet this is what leadership among Jesus’ people is like.
Unfortunately, we nearly always avoid the force of this disturbing
teaching by transforming it into pious rhetoric. We style
ourselves as “servants” but act just like the kings of the Gentiles in
exercising authority. Yet even the kings of the Gentiles try to
make their authority palatable by legitimating it with pious rhetoric;
this is why they call themselves “benefactors.” So how are we any
different? If we are to live like Jesus’ followers, we need to
take seriously his insight that leaders are as children and slaves,
those without authority.
The most obvious aspect of what the NT has to say about leadership
and authority is its lack of interest in the subject. In all of
Paul’s major letters, for instance, leaders only appear in Php 1:1, and
there only in passing. For the most part, he ignores them, as do
the other writers. Jesus’ immediate followers were strangely
silent about leadership and authority. This silence, it turns out,
is quite significant.
The NT uses two words which correspond to different aspects of what
we mean by “authority.” The first, dunamis, is usually (and
rightly) translated as “power.” This word is less important for us
because though “power” may be associated with some kinds of authority,
it also can exist without authority. Someone waving a gun has
power over others, but that does not necessarily give them authority.
Still, it will be worthwhile to look at who has dunamis
(power) in the NT. If you take a walk through a concordance, you
will find that the following possess power: God, Jesus, the Spirit, as
well as angels, demons, and “principalities and powers.” Human
beings, oddly, don’t have power themselves; they are only energized by
these other powers. The ministry of the gospel, the miracles of
the apostles, and the lives of believers are all conditioned on the
“power of God.” Strikingly, the NT seldom, if ever, recognizes
human beings with “power” in their own right–power always comes to
people from elsewhere.
Things become even more interesting when we turn to the other
relevant Greek word: exousia. This word is usually
translated as “power” or “authority” and is the closest equivalent to
our English word “authority.” The NT’s list of those who have
exousia is essentially the same as those who have dunamis: God,
Jesus, the Holy Spirit, angels and demons. But now, the list
extends to humans who are not merely energized by heavenly authority but
have authority themselves.
Thus, kings have authority to rule (Ro 13:1-2) and Jesus’ disciples
have authority over diseases and spirits (e.g., Mt 10:1).
Believers have authority over the various facets of their lives–their
possessions (Ac 5:4), and eating, drinking, and being married (1 Co
11:10).
What is striking, however, is that the NT does not say anything about
one believer having authority over another. We have plenty of
authority over things, and even over spirits, but never over other
Christians. Considering how much energy we put into discussions of
who has authority in the church, that should be surprising. Kings
have authority over their subjects; Paul had authority from the high
priest to persecute Christians (Ac 9:14; 26:10-12). But in the
church, one believer is never spoken of as having exousia over
another, regardless of their position or prestige.
The New Testament
does not say anything about one believer having authority over
another. We have plenty of authority over things, even over spirits,
but never over other Christians.
With the exception, that is, of 2 Co 10:8 and 13:10. In these
texts Paul speaks of having “authority” to build up, not tear
down. It seems that he, at least, has exousia over other
believers. Admittedly, one has to over-interpret the texts in
order to make them a real exception since in both cases this is not an
authority “over” anyone but rather an authority “for” a purpose.
But even granting that this over-interpretation is plausible, the
exception is hardly an exception when you take two things into
account. First, by his own admission, Paul is speaking “as a fool”
in this part of his letter. He avoids claiming authority over
others when he speaks “soberly,” so it seems unlikely that he would be
pleased with us using his “foolish” speech as the only basis for
claiming that church leaders have spiritual authority over other
believers.
Second, the context of the letter is characterized by
persuasion. The profound significance of this will become clear in
due course. Paul spills a great deal of ink trying to persuade the
Corinthians to listen to him. If he “had authority” over them, in
the sense we usually think of it, why did he bother? Why not just
give the orders and be done with it? The answer, as we will see,
lies in the peculiar nature of the relationship he sees between leaders
and other believers.
Before we get to that, however, we should notice that Paul seems to
lack authority in our everyday sense of the word (morally legitimated
power) even here where he is allegedly asserting it. This should
strongly caution us, then, against thinking of leaders as having
authority merely on the basis of two sentences in 2 Co.
Now look at things from the other side. Rather than asking who
has authority in the NT, we should ask the opposite question, “Whom
should one obey?” The answer here is interesting, too. If
you examine the usage of hupakouo, which is the Greek equivalent
of “obey,” you will find that we ought to obey God, the gospel (Ro
10:16), and the teaching of the apostles (Php 2:12; 2 Th 3:14).
Children are to obey their parents and servants their masters (Eph 6:1,
5). But are believers to obey church leaders? If they are,
the NT writers studiously avoid saying so.
But what about Heb 13:17 which says “obey your leaders?” This
text is interesting, because it can give us an insight into the positive
side of the NT’s understanding of leadership. Up to now I have
emphasized the negative–that they do not have authority in our usual
sense, and believers are not told to obey them. In spite of all
this, the NT insists that there are leaders in a local body, that they
are recognizable as such, and that their existence and ministry are
important to the health of the body.
What is the positive side of this understanding of leadership?
There is a clue in Heb 13:17. If you examine the verb translated
“obey” in this text, you will find it to be a form of the word
peitho which means “persuade.” In the form used here it
means something like “let yourself be persuaded by” or “have confidence
in.” That’s helpful. Believers are to let themselves be
persuaded by their leaders.
Leaders in the church are accorded a certain respect which lends
their words more weight than they have in and of themselves. And
the rest of the church should be “biased” in favor of listening to what
they say. We are to allow ourselves to be persuaded by our
leaders, not obeying them mindlessly but entering into discussion with
them and being open to what they are saying. (By the way, now it
should be clear why it was so significant that Paul’s statements in 2 Co
were in a context of persuasion. He was trying to persuade them to
let themselves be persuaded by him.)
The other verb used in Heb 13:17 reinforces this conclusion.
When the text goes on to urge people to “submit” to leaders, it does not
use the garden-variety Greek word for “submit.” The normal word is
hupotassomai, which connotes something like placing oneself in an
organization under another person. Thus we are sometimes told to
submit to governments (Ro 13:1; Tit 3:1), to the social roles in which
we find ourselves (Col 3:18; 1 Pe 2:18), and to the “powers that be” of
our society (1 Pe 2:13).
The word here, however, is different. It is hupeitko,
and it occurs only here in the NT. It connotes not a structure to
which one submits, but a battle after which one yields. The image
is one of a serious discussion, and interchange after which one party
gives way. This meshes
Character - not
charisma or administrative ability - is the most important thing about
leaders.
nicely with the notion that we are to let ourselves be persuaded by
leaders in the church, rather than simply submitting to them as we might
to the existing powers and structures of life.
All this makes sense of the criteria for elders or overseers in the
pastoral epistles. In these writings, character, not charisma or
administrative ability, is the most important thing about leaders.
They should be “respectable.” If they are supposed to be
persuaders, it makes sense that they ought preeminently to be
respectable because this is the kind of person whose words we are
inclined to take very seriously. The kind of respectability
outlined there lends credibility to the words of leaders, and hence
gives us confidence in opening ourselves to being persuaded by them.
But there is more. The persuasiveness of such leaders depends
on truth. Presumably, if leaders are wrong in their judgment and
yet are seriously concerned to serve, they would not be happy with
someone following them in their error. A leader who has the
charisma to persuade people of something untrue, and does so, is
virtually demonic. To be persuaded of a lie is the worst form of
bondage. Leaders in the church are bound to the truth and serve it
above all in their service of others.
This necessity of serving the truth, by the way, is the reason why
the NT emphasizes obeying the gospel or the apostle’s teaching, rather
than leaders. The trust engendered by service is dangerous if it
is not coordinated with a common obedience to the truth of the
gospel. If the desire for truth is not at the basis of leadership
in the body, the trust which can be created by service is just another,
more subtle form of power–the power we call manipulation.
Persuasion presupposes dialogue; and dialogue requires the active
participation of the whole body. Our common understanding of
authority isolates leaders and puts them over those who are under
authority. The leadership of genuine service, however, has a
natural basis in the dialogue which undergirds it. Leaders in the
church have need for neither the pious rhetoric of the kings of the
Gentiles nor the force which lies behind it. Rather, because they
are persuaders, they can rely on dialogue as the arena and channel of
their service.
So, genuine leadership in the church is based on service, truth, and
trust, not authority. Leaders in the church are called by the
truth to lives which are worthy of imitation, and thus respectable, and
to lives of service. Such a life engenders the trust of
others. Yet leaders, as well as the rest of the members of the
body, are always in common subjection to the truth which is in
Christ.
