‘Unlike their scribes, he taught with a note of authority.’ There is a world of significance in those few words. They make sense in the first century AD and in the 21st. Wherever there are humans, there is this distinction.
So it was in the time of Jesus. Scribes were familiar figures. They were looked up to. They knew more than the average man. They expected to be listened to, to be taken seriously.
We have such people in our society. They are more likely to be found offering their opinions on microbiology or the Jurassic period rather than God’s requirements. They appear on our TV screens and in our daily newspapers rather than in the local market-place or a temple. We recognise the elusive quality that makes us say: ‘He knows what he’s talking about.’
Authority is not easy to pin down. It shows itself in different guises. Even if it is unwelcome, we recognise authority. When it is conferred by a string of letters and one qualification after another, we defer. When it is the outcome of grind on the practice track or pool, we give our respect. We know we are in the presence of somebody who has gone that bit further than we have and is able to speak from a pinnacle. Usually the note of authority is seen in the eyes and the bearing.
In the presence of such a person we mostly find that silence is our best course. We have been put in our place. There is something uncanny about the recognition of and the reaction to authority.
Clearly, when we see that comment in the last verse of Matthew 7, somebody in the audience identified that telling characteristic about Jesus. He was different. He had something to put forward that was worth listening to. This is not to say that whenever Jesus spoke, he was clearly understood. He often told stories of a disarming simplicity. He also spoke in riddles and seemed to invite misunderstanding. But there was always the singularity, the voice from outside, the words that came with the expectation that they would be taken seriously.
This is a good starting-point to investigate Christianity. Once we have recognised that note of authority, we cannot remain unmoved. There follows a compulsion to enquire further.
FRIENDSHIP
Leaving Mountsorrel, Leicestershire (home to what was the largest granite quarry in Europe) after four years as curate, Darren Walker reflects: ‘I was told at theological college that it was unwise for those in leadership roles to have close friendships but this was always going to be impossible. I have made many friends over the last four years, and these will I am sure now be lifelong.’
NO MORE TYRES
Bushbury, Wolverhampton was once a centre for the production of Goodyear tyres. The site is now destined to be a new housing estate. Leading a team for the three Bushbury churches is Ian Poole. There has been a church in Bushbury since before the Conquest. A tenth or 11th base of a preaching cross is the earliest indication of its age. One of the three churches, St Mary’s, was re-ordered in the 1970s.
HALEWOOD ARRAY
A handsome array of pictures introduces the visitor to the people of Halewood parish church, Merseyside website. Martyn Woodsford leads a ministry team at St Nicholas and St Mary Anglicans and Methodists together in Halewood. Three churches united in 2012 to form a team. The largest employer in Halewood is JLR.
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