The True Nature of Authority in the Catholic Church. Homily, 4th September

The argument among the Apostles today sounds remarkably modern.

“Which of them was to be regarded as the greatest?”

Our age often thinks it has solved that problem by becoming suspicious of authority altogether.

But of course we have not abolished authority. We have simply moved it around.

Someone still teaches our children.

Someone still decides what is acceptable.

Someone still tells us what words may be used, what ideas are respectable, what behaviour is praised and what is condemned.

There is no human life without authority.

The real question is whether authority answers to truth.

And notice carefully what Our Lord does in the Gospel.

He does not tell the Apostles that there will be no rulers among them.

Quite the opposite. He speaks of “the greatest” and “the leader”. Later He tells them that they will sit upon thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Christ does not destroy hierarchy.

He baptises it.

He takes authority away from vanity and places it under God.

That is the difference between the ruler who thinks, “These people are mine,” and the shepherd who knows, “These souls belong to God.”

And that takes us straight to Saint Paul:

“We do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord.”

There is the whole theology of Catholic authority in one sentence.

Jesus Christ is Lord.

Therefore everybody else is a servant.

Pope, bishop, priest, parent, teacher: real authority, but received authority.

And because it is received, it is accountable.

A priest cannot make the Gospel mean whatever he wishes any more than a postman can improve your letter before delivering it.

The message is not his.

Saint Paul calls it a “treasure in earthen vessels.”

That is a wonderfully realistic image of the Church.

The vessel may be rather ordinary.

It may be scratched.

Occasionally it may be badly cracked.

But you do not throw away the treasure because the vessel is imperfect.

Nor do you mistake the vessel for the treasure.

Saint Gregory understood that perhaps better than most.

For him, the shepherd must know when to bend down and when to stand firm. Authority becomes corrupt when it seeks its own importance; but refusing to exercise authority when souls need guidance is not humility either.

Think of a surgeon.

We would think it very strange if, halfway through an operation, he put down the instruments and said, “I don’t want to impose my medical opinion.”

We want him to know what health is.

We want him to recognise disease.

And, within his competence, we want him to act.

The Church deals with something greater than bodily health.

She deals with souls made for God.

So her shepherds must sometimes console and sometimes correct, sometimes encourage and sometimes warn.

Not because truth is opposed to love.

Because truth is necessary to love.

And that applies beyond bishops and priests.

Parents need authority because children need forming.

Teachers need authority because truth can be learned.

And every one of us needs the authority of Christ because none of us is already perfect.

That last point is perhaps the hardest.

We generally like authority when it confirms what we already think.

The test comes when Christ says: No. This must change.

Then we discover whether Jesus is really Lord, or merely an adviser whose opinion we value when convenient.

Saint Gregory was called “the Great”, yet he understood greatness through the words of Christ: “I am among you as one who serves.”

That is not the abolition of authority.

It is its consecration.

The greater the office, the greater the obligation.

The higher the shepherd stands, the more completely he belongs to Christ and to the souls entrusted to him.

And Saint Paul gives us the reason:

“We have this treasure in earthen vessels.”

The vessel does not exist to display itself.

It exists to carry the treasure.

And the treasure is Jesus Christ.