Creekside Church Sermon of February 2, 2003 "Authoritative Christianity " Mark 1:21-28	Rev. David Bibbee
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Near the end of the school year at Concord High School there is an awards banquet honoring the academic achievements of the soon-to-be graduates. One of the neat aspects is when the top ten students identify the teacher who made the greatest impact upon them. It's an honor for the teacher and an important recognition for the students that their success was not solely because of the their smarts. Much of the credit goes to teachers who impart knowledge, instill the love of learning, and unlock creativity and imagination that are vital for life-long learning.

Who are the influential teachers in your life…the ones who impacted you positively? I say "positively" because some of us were unfortunate to have careless teachers who made a negative impact upon us. The band "Pink Floyd" wrote a song critical of the abuses in the British School System that said, "We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control…Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone."My maternal grandmother was born in 1884. I remember the story she told about her first teacher-a mean, intimidating man who spanked her because she kept using her left hand to write. It was difficult afterward for her to realize that learning should be a pleasant experience.

Who was the teacher who opened the window unto the world for you? My eighth grade science teacher, Mrs. Crane, almost made a meteorologist out of me. She taught me to identify clouds and understand the weather that went with them. She taught me to see the signs of changing weather by what happens in nature. My architectural drafting teacher, Mr. Petrich, taught me that in architecture as well as in life, not to make grandiose designs that are impractical to build. In college, T. Wayne Reiman taught me so much…that I was not as limited as I believed. He taught me to ponder big ideas and to keep an eye out for God who is everywhere incognito. I owe so much to Paul Robinson. On Sunday mornings for a year I observed a master preacher at his craft. The intern year helped me find my own voice in preaching and gave me a grasp of what it means to be a minister.

Teachers are powerful. Though years pass, we continue to carry with us the truths they imparted. They gave us an education which is what we have left after we have forgotten all of the facts.

Among all the titles by which Jesus was addressed, the one used perhaps more than any other was, "Rabbi," which means "Teacher." He was a prophet. He was a preacher. He performed miracles. But Jesus' principle identity was as a teacher. We typically do not associate teaching with intrigue, but with Jesus we are not dealing with a typical teacher. Jesus was not one of those teachers who fed students facts which they regurgitated for the final exam.

The synagogue was Israel's unique contribution. It was a place of instruction. Here the law was learned. Here is where Israel's traditions were passed on. It was a place to listen, learn, and reflect upon what it meant to be a faithful Jew. When Jesus entered the synagogue and began to teach, people were taken back. There was something about what he said and how he said it that made other teachers pale in comparison. Mark says the assembly was "astonished." The scribes were, compared to Jesus, boring. Jesus' message was powerful and persuasive. "He taught with authority. Not like the scribes," the text says.

We have no clue about what he taught that day. If you had asked someone who had been there, maybe they couldn't give a verbatim of the message, but they could their reaction. Amazement. The amazement was about to be multiplied because a man ran screaming into synagogue like the wild man of Borneo.

"What are you doing here, Jesus? What have you to do with us? Are you here to destroy us? We know who you are, Mr. Holy One of God." Smart demons. They knew what the people didn't. They knew who Jesus was from. "I'll teach you to interrupt a class I am teaching!" Jesus rebuked the spirit. "Keep quiet and leave this man alone." And the man was healed…just like that.

"What's going on? What is this you are teaching? There was an ingredient missing from other teachers. Jesus' words weren't just words. There was authority behind them. He didn't just "speak" the words. He embodied them. A few weeks ago we looked at Jesus' first miracle recorded in the Gospel of John-turning water into wine. But in Mark the miracle is teaching. Jesus has command of the subject matter.

"Words," the saying goes, "are so powerful they should only be used to heal, to bless, and to prosper." We don't pay much attention to the significance of words. It's no surprise, swiming as we do in a sea of words. I have a cartoon of a man sitting at his desk with the phone six inches from his ear. Out of the phone comes the words, "Blah, blah, blah." In the next frame he is off the phone. His head is tilted over the side of his desk while a steady stream of "Blah, blah, blah," flows from his ear into a wastebasket.

We are drowning in a sea of words, but there are words that can keep us afloat, heal the stress of our souls. They are the authoritative words of Jesus.

In Texas, a group of Korean Army officers were being trained at a near-by base. While in the States they began attending a little Baptist church where a number of the them were baptized. They returned to Korea, and as a sign of their gratitude, they commissioned a work of art and sent it to the church. When the folks at the church unwrapped it, it struck no one as a masterpiece. It was a gray monochrome picture of Christ. While they were figuring out where to put it, someone drew their attention to something about the work no one noticed. "Check this out!" they said.

They looked closely at the painting and saw words. It was the New Testament painted on the canvas. The text was so small and ran together in places such that you became dizzy trying to read them. Up close they were just words, but as you stepped back the clear image of Jesus appeared. It wasn't just the words Jesus spoke that freed people and healed them and gave a foundation on which to build their lives. It was the power of God those words which painted a picture of the kind of world God was determined to have.

We are living in a time of "cultural relativism." There are many choices when it comes to how we should think, behave, and live. We are told that one way isn't necessarily better than another. We are told that all religions at their core are the same. Pick the way that works for you. Use any kind of speech you want. All words are equal we're told. But if all words are equal, then the words of Billy Graham are no better than the words of the Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. No way of living and believing and behaving is authoritative or worthy of our lives if all are the same.

In his book, Tuesdays with Morrie, Mitch Albom recounts the precious final weeks he was privileged to share with a beloved college professor, Morrie Schwartz. It had been twenty years since he had seen his professor. One night by chance he tuned to Ted Koppel's Nightline, to listen to Ted interviewing Morrie. The subject of their conversation was Morrie's impending death. He was suffering from ALS…Lou Gehrig's Disease.

Mitch went to visit Morrie. The teacher and the student were together for class once again. This time the course was Life 101. Over the course of fourteen weeks Mitch and Morrie met on Tuesdays and discussed a wide range of topics… the world, regrets, death, love, forgiveness, the perfect day, and saying goodbye. Near the end of Morrie's life he told Mitch, "I've picked a place to be buried." "Where is that?" asked Mitch. "Not far from here. On a hill, beneath a tree, overlooking a pond. Very serene. A good place to think." "You're planning on thinking there?" Mitch asked. "No, I'm planning on being dead there." Morrie laughed. "Will you visit?" Morrie asked. "Visit?" "Yes, just come and talk. Make it a Tuesday. You always come on Tuesday."

Morrie was very weak and said, "Look at me. Will you come to my grave? To tell me your problems." "My problems?" Mitch asked. "Yes." "And you will give me answers?" Morrie replied, "I'll give you what I can. Don't I always?" Mitch thought a moment and said, "It won't be the same…not being there to hear you talk." "Ah, talk…" Morrie closed his eyes and smiled. "Tell you what. After I'm dead, you talk, and I'll listen."

"I've decided what I want on my tombstone," Morrie said. Mitch replied, "I don't want to hear about tombstones." "Why? Do they make you nervous?" Mitch asked, "What did you decide?" "I was thinking of this; A teacher to the Last." He awaited Mitch's response. "A teacher to the last?" "Good?" Morrie asked. "Yes," Mitch said. "Very good."

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