For
those who don’t know, the show is set in the nineteen-teens and profiles the
Earl and Countess of Grantham and their family, and the staff of servants that
work on the titular estate. Thus
far, the plotlines have centered on the intrigue of a succession crisis, on any
number of romantic relationships, and on the societal upheavals caused by the
First World War.
But
perhaps the most basic elements propelling the drama are the porous boundaries
between the British upper and lower classes, the interwoven hierarchies of
upstairs and downstairs, and the various characters’ attempts to navigate and
manipulate those relationships of power and authority for their own benefit.
Upstairs,
the Earl of Grantham is a kind and generous husband, father, and employer. He is always motivated by a desire to
do the good and by his conviction that he is merely a steward of the estate and
title he holds, protecting and preserving it for his heir – whoever that will
prove to be. But he also often
finds himself at odds with his mother, the opinionated and outspoken Dowager
Countess, who asserts her power by meddling behind the scenes.
Downstairs,
Mr. Carson, the butler, and Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper, have authority over
all the other staff members.
Though strict and demanding, they are ultimately motivated by a high
standard of excellence and by loyalty to the family they serve. More times than not, they end up serving
as surrogate parents for their younger charges. But then there is also Thomas the footman and O’Brien the
maid who are incessantly plotting to manipulate their employers and supervisors,
undermine their coworkers, and obtain favors and authority for themselves.
Bottom
line, the stories of Downton Abbey
revolve around the different ways people wield authority when they are in
charge, and react to it when they are not – how and why people seek to obtain
authority and power, and what they use it for once they have it.
In
many ways, today’s Gospel speaks to us about much the same thing. St. Mark records that the residents of
Capernaum “were astonished at Jesus’ teaching . . . for He taught as one having
authority and not as the scribes.”
The
people in today’s Gospel would have been accustomed to hearing the preaching
and teaching of the scribes and rabbis, who did indeed have real authority in
Jewish society. These listeners
would also have heard any number of itinerant preachers, like Jesus, as they
made their way through Capernaum.
They may even have gone out into the desert to hear John the Baptist
preach his message of repentance.
And
yet these people notice something crucially different about the teaching of Jesus
of Nazareth. They are attracted to
Jesus because “He taught as one having authority and not as the scribes.”
Just
what is the nature of Jesus’ teaching and the quality of His authority that
makes it so noticeably different from that of the scribes? On a less theological level, we could
similarly ask, what are the essential traits of the characters that Downton Abbey viewers either love, or
love to hate?
Well,
if we think about it for a moment we have all known teachers, bosses, police
officers, coaches, sadly even priests and religious, who don’t carry authority
well. Insecure in who they are,
their authority and power rest solely in their title or office and they seem to
use these things solely for their own benefit.
As
a result, they wield authority like a weapon, lest anyone sense their
vulnerability. They are quick tempered and difficult to please and as a result
are feared by many. They insist on the black and white of the rules and are
always suspicious that others are attempting to undermine their authority.
Or,
on the other hand, they might quickly cede the authority of their office to
others, lest something be expected of them personally. In these instances they are incapable
of making decisions themselves and are desperate to be everyone’s “friend,”
instead of their teacher, coach, boss, or parent.
Perhaps,
if we’re honest with ourselves we might even recognize in these descriptions
some patterns of leadership or parenting that we, too, fall into from time to
time.
But,
you and I have also known teachers and bosses, coaches and priests who do carry authority well. Graced with good self-knowledge,
they’re comfortable in their own skin and confident in the role they have been
given. Everyone knows that they are
in charge and yet everyone feels encouraged and supported as well, because
these leaders understand authority and power to be a call to service of others.
Their
authority comes from within, from who they are, not just from any title they
have been given, or degree they have earned.
Friends,
this is the crucial difference in Jesus’ teaching that the people in today’s
Gospel immediately perceive. The scribes
have based their authority and teaching on their learning, or on their title
and position. And they use their power for their own gain.
But
Jesus always uses His authority as a means of loving service. Jesus’ authority and teaching come not
from a title or position, but from within Himself, from the nature of who He is.
And
who is He? At the very beginning
of his public ministry Jesus spent forty days in the desert reflecting on the
words He heard boom from heaven the day John baptized Him in the River Jordan: “This
is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
Jesus’
awareness that He was the beloved Son of God was what defined everything else
about Him – everything else He said, and everything else He did. His truest identity as the beloved Son
of God was the source of the authority and power that the people experienced in
His teaching.
To
make just this point, in today’s Gospel, Mark interrupts his synagogue scene to
record another event, which gives the answer to the people’s question about the
nature of Jesus’ teaching. A man possessed
by an “unclean spirit” is brought forward and the demon, recognizing who Jesus
is, says: “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”
Brothers
and sisters, by Baptism we have come to share in Jesus’ relationship with the
Father. But we need to come to
know the deepest reality of our identity.
We need to drown out the many contrary voices within ourselves, and
around us, and concentrate solely on the divine voice that calls us beloved.
When
we don’t concentrate on that central reality of who we are, we get ourselves
into all sorts of trouble. We search
desperately for the contentment that only living as God’s beloved can truly
bring. We try to fill the hole
that’s left behind with all sorts of other things: drugs and alcohol, sex,
possessions and …. power.
But,
increasingly cut off from our true selves, we become internally divided, like
the possessed person in today’s Gospel.
Notice the demon says, “What have you to do with us?”
And
so in today’s second reading, St. Paul says to the Corinthians, and to us: “I
should like you to be free of anxieties,” and adhere to the Lord “without
distractions” … without being divided.
Friends,
we certainly cannot expect that we will be able to exercise leadership or
authority of any kind in an appropriate way, if we are anxious or internally
divided.
If
we want to be better supervisors or employers, better teachers or parents – if
we want to be more like the heroes of Downton
Abbey and less like the villains – or most directly to the point, if we
want to have true self-confidence and exercise authority gracefully – then like
Christ Himself, we must ground our identity in our relationship with the
Father, and then see that everything we say, and everything we do, comes out of
that awareness that we are the beloved children of God.
