Who Does He Think He Is?

I like knowing that Jesus is Lord, because it means He is big enough to forgive all my sins and to deliver me from any threat. I like Jesus' being Lord when I think of heaven, and how He has prepared a place for me. I like Christ's lordship when life seems out of control and I remember that He still rules.

But when He claims authority over me, tells me what to do, says no to me, or sends me in a direction I would never have chosen, well, then I guess I don't like His authority as much.

I've been a Christian such a long time, and I'm ashamed that I don't accept His kind but firm authority more readily.

Remember His last week, before He went to the cross? His enemies were practically sputtering with indignation at the calm, steady, regal way Jesus claimed authority over everything. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they demanded (Mark 11:28a).

"These things" included three actions that you'd have to call outrageous and presumptuous - unless, of course, He is Lord of all.

#1. To prepare for His entrance into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, He instructed His disciples to commandeer a donkey (Mark 11:1-8). Who does He think He is—that’s private property! 

#2. He pronounced a withering curse upon an unproductive fig tree (Mark 11:12-14). Who does He think He is—it wasn't even the season for figs! 

#3. He cast the money changers out of the Temple, calling the magnificent structure that King Herod built “My house” (Mark 11:15-19). Who does He think He is? Why, that's God's house!

Of course these actions were supremely offensive to the religious establishment because they undermined their man-centered equilibrium and forced them to confront the truth of who Jesus really and truly is.

I suppose Jesus’ authority is offensive—sometimes even to us who love Him and want to follow Him. Basically He offends our pride. He lays claim to "our" stuff, He closes doors we want open and withholds blessings we thing we deserve, usually without explanation. And of course He continually cleanses our temples.

Our good Shepherd, who makes us lie down in green pastures and always leads us beside still waters, doesn't need our vote. But He does ask a question: "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I tell you?" (Luke 6:46).