topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
18 October 09
 


 

Like many of you, I’ve had my fair share of bosses.  As I read today’s gospel, I thought many of them would have been much better at being my boss if only they had heard, took today’s gospel to heart, and evidenced a spiritual transformation by devoting themselves to becoming what Robert Greenleaf called “servant leaders.”  (The truth be told, they likely would say that I would have been a much better follower had I done the same.)

To draw a contrast between what constitutes good and bad bosses, consider the difference between what I call the “authority of power”—bosses hold a position of power which enables them to get their subordinates to do what otherwise they ordinarily wouldn’t do—and what I call the “power of authority” which all of Jesus’ disciples possess—the freedom of soul to speak truth to power without fear, although not necessarily without negative consequences.

My first boss—meaning someone who bossed me around—was my sister.  Today, she’s continues to be a “boss.”  For example, for the past two weeks, my sister has been emailing me options about what she believes I should be doing for the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.  My first real boss—meaning someone who paid me real cash money for a real job—was the owner of a fried chicken joint in Arlington Heights, Illinois, who hired me to run and manage it for him when I was in high school.  Following that, I’ve had a number of bosses who were very powerful, meaning “individuals who could get people (like me) to do things they otherwise wouldn’t ordinarily do.”  Looking back at that long line of bosses who may have been successful bosses, I’d have to say that just about all of them—I exclude my sister for a variety of reasons—were miserable failures as servant leaders.

Why such a harsh judgment?

What these people generally understood and exercised was the “authority of power.”  They were clueless, however, about the “power of authority.”

Consider how most, if not all, of them approached the task at hand.  It appeared their basic operating assumption was that they knew better than me (or, for that matter, anyone) how to perform the job they hired me to perform.  They didn’t want me to think for myself, to look at other ways to accomplish the job in perhaps more efficient and effective ways, or to suggest any changes.  No, it seemed to me, they believed they paid me to do strictly what they dictated.  I was simply to turn off my brain and keep my big mouth shut…especially if I was going to express any criticism.

So, what did this model of “boss”—an individual exerting the “authority of power”encourage me and others with whom I worked to do?

Speaking solely for myself, this model of boss encouraged me to spend time at work fantasizing about three things.

The first thing I’d fantasize about was the ideal substitute for my boss.  You know what I mean: what a “real” boss would say and do.  The contrasts were stark, vivid, and real, at least in the world of my fantasies.

The second thing I’d fantasize about was my boss suddenly disappearing.  You know, how pleasant everything would be if my boss would vanish in an instant, hopefully not due to something tragic like a coronary or aneurism but, all the same, G--O--N--E.  The scene of attending a going away party to wish my boss well—perhaps having been hired by another organization or retiring to sit on the front porch all day long—fit my wishes nicely.

The third thing I’d fantasize about was how I would be the all-perfect boss.  After all, having observed so many failed bosses, I viewed myself as having amassed enough ideas about what I would never do or say if I were a boss.  The published version of my “boss chronicles,” entitled All The Failed Bosses I’ve Ever Worked For, would certainly be a New York Times best seller, even though it would run longer than Gibbons’ Decline and Fall of the Roman Republic, which consisted of six length volumes in very small print.

Stepping back and thinking about my three fantasies—the fantasy of idealized substitution, the fantasy of disappearance, and the fantasy of self-promotion—as these were stimulated when I would contemplate my bosses were complete and utter failures (“IBs” [“Incompetent Boobs”] is what others who have worked for my bosses have called them), what becomes apparent to me is that many of us engage in this same behavior, especially when we find ourselves frustrated because things aren’t going the way we want and we feel powerless to do anything about it.  I think this is perhaps related to the fact that we all want to be the absolute bosses of our lives, just like Danae Pyle in Wiley Miller’s Non Sequitur comic strip:


 

Many young people have these fantasies when their parents don’t allow them to do what they want to do.  Be honest with yourselves: how many young people here today haven’t fantasized about how wonderful everything would be if you had other parents, if your parents suddenly disappeared, and how infallibly sure you are that you will never, ever be like your parents?  You want to be your own boss!

With greater frequency in the past four decades, many spouses have engaged in fantasizing about how much better things would be…if their spouse was perfect, disappeared, or did everything the way I wanted.  Be honest with yourselves: how many spouses here today have fantasized about how wonderful it would be if only you had married someone else, if only your spouse suddenly disappeared, or how in so many ways—perhaps too many to count—you are so very superior to your spouse?  You want to be your own boss, too!

More important than the fact that these fantasies are a convenient way to escape from the harsh reality that these parents and spouses do exercise the “authority of power” in our lives, these fantasies also are a convenient way to escape having to take responsibility for and doing something to change the reality in which we find ourselves.  In sum, it’s easier to blame someone else by freely choosing to live in a fantasy world than it is to confront that reality head on in a way that will make it possible for us to heal the differences that we currently are allowing to drive us and other people apart, whether those differences are between a boss and workers, young people and parents, or spouses.

It takes a lot of time to fantasize well and, as we do, we slowly convince ourselves that there is nothing more frightening than having to confront those who exercise the power of authority because we believe that we possess little or no power.  Like Job, we say “Oh, poor me.  Woe is me!”  However, the simple truth is that we’re behaving like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  Like Dorothy, we fear having to confront Miss Almira Gulch (who hit Dorothy’s dog, Toto, over the head with a rake for having bitten her), the Wicked Witch of the West (who wanted Dorothy’s powerful ruby slippers), and lastly, the great and all-powerful Oz, that is, if we—like Dorothy—are to achieve our dream of returning home to Uncle Henry and Auntie Em in rural Kansas.

The problem we have—and what evidences itself in these three fantasies—is that we confuse the “authority of power” with “the power of authority.”  Yes, bosses, parents, and spouses have power and can be very powerful.  But, we think to ourselves, “If I was to confront those people, I’m afraid of what they are likely to do as they exercise the authority of power to get me to do what otherwise I wouldn’t otherwise ordinarily do.”  So, living in fear and rather than confronting the powerful, we decide to escape reality through our very well-concocted fantasies.

Why do we live in fear of people who otherwise we wouldn’t respect unless they were to change?  This all sounds rather unhealthy, doesn’t it?  Well, it is and let’s not forget that fact.  Living in fear of the “authority of power” is not to live.  It’s to subsist in a prison we have constructed for ourselves, thinking that we have no power and everybody is our boss.

What we forget about, however, is that the “power of authority” is far more powerful than anything the powerful can do to or inflict upon us.  Jesus hints at this in today’s gospel when he states, “Whoever wishes to be great will be your servant.”

When we hear that statement, we oftentimes immediately think, “Jesus means that I must be subservient to those who are the masters of the world.”  That includes those all of those powerful bosses, parents, and spouses.  I want to suggest today that is not what Jesus is saying.

To understand better the difference between the “authority of power” and the “power of authority,” let’s recall that there is only one Master in this world, and that is God who created it.  When we are God’s servants, it matters not what all of those powerful individuals are capable of doing.  The only thing that matters is that we serve God, because there is no “authority of power” that can destroy the “power of authority.”  Yes, the powerful can harm us in this world; but, they are impotent when it comes to the Kingdom of God.

What, then, is this “power of authority”?

When we submit to God’s commands, we recognize a larger and more important purpose in life, one that challenges us to change how we must live our lives by recognizing a higher standard than that which is defined by all of those people who exercise “the authority of power.”  As God’s servants, the “power of authority” nurtures higher idealism and virtue in ourselves, and subsequently in others, as we offer them—through our example—something greater to aspire to in their lives.  The power of authority is given to us in the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, the gift of the Holy Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead.

Sure, witnessing truth to the bosses who exercise the authority of power is difficult.  To state the truth that God has breathed into us requires being courageous enough to put God first rather than to fear for ourselves believing that God will not save us.  That’s the heart of servant leadership.  It’s much easier to fantasize away a boss, a parent, or a spouse whom we fear because they exercise the authority of power.  But, again, all that demonstrates is how we love ourselves more than we love God or neighbor because we are not willing to submit to God’s authority.  So, we freely choose to live as cowards in fear of those who exercise the authority of power.

When we live as servants of God, we don’t live in fear of those who exercise the authority of power.  No, because we serve God, we exercise the power of authority through which our witness to the power of God’s authority can make all of the difference in this world, whether that’s with our bosses at work, between parents and young people at home, or with spouses in their marriages.  Only the terrifying and awesome power of God’s authority is able to cut through all of that other malarkey of our own making by which we seek to be the boss of our lives—to exercise the authority of power.

The personal sacrifice made by the “servant” about whom Jesus speaks in today’s gospel is a “gift” that has the power of authority to save even those who exercise the authority of power as our personal integrity—living as God’s servant and witnessing to God’s—challenges others to rethink how and to change the way they are living their lives.

 

A brief commercial break...
 

Each year, the people at Magnificat® produce a companion edition for the season of Advent.   Similar to a what older Catholics may remember as a "prayer book," the companion edition contains all sorts of prayers, readings, reflections, art, and activities for every member of the family to prepare each day of the season of Advent for the coming of Christ at Christmas.

Grandparents might consider purchasing a copy for themselves and copies for each of their grandchildren.  Confirmation sponsors might consider purchasing a copy for themselves as well as the person they sponsored in the faith.  Spouses might purchase a copy for themselves and use it for daily prayer during the season of Advent.  Parents might purchase a copy for the family and use it to lead prayer before dinner each evening.

At a price of $3 .95 for 1-4 copies plus $1 shipping/handling, $2.50 for 5-9 copies plus $3 shipping/handling, and $1.50 for 10-49 copies (plus $5 shipping/handling), the companion edition makes a perfect and very affordable opportunity to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas as well as an Advent gift to spur family, friends, and colleagues toward greater spiritual growth during the season of Advent.

The companion edition has a limited press run that sells out each year.  Furthermore, orders are filled in the order received.  So, place your order early.

To place an order for the 2009 companion edition of Magnificat® for the season of Advent, call 1-970-416-6670 or email specialissue@intrepidgroup.com for ordering information.

 

 

 

mail2.gif (2917 bytes)      Does today’s homily raise any question(s) that you would like
                   me to respond to? Mail your question(s) by double clicking on
               
    the mailbox. I will respond to your question(s) at my first
                   available opportunity.


   Double click on this button to return to the homily
                                         webpage.