When Little Rock Public Schools were closed to prevent integration in 1957, a meeting between Gov. Orval Faubus and some local leaders was scheduled and later abruptly canceled. The original list of attendees included a federal judge, the local member of Congress, the owner of the city’s largest bank and my great-grandfather, an insurance executive and past president of the chamber of commerce. When Faubus’ staff got wind that pastors Dick Hardie and Marion Bogg were added to the list of attendees, they canceled the meeting. The governor who got into a game of chicken with President Eisenhower over school integration was evidently afraid to meet with these Presbyterian clergy. Power has always feared the gospel because the gospel is no respecter of power. The scribes and Pharisees knew the threat Jesus posed to their carefully constructed house of theological cards. In Matthew 21:23-32, they ask him by what authority he does what he does. They have no interest in the answer, mind you. They have no interest in learning more about these new teachings; they simply want to trap the teacher and get rid of him. Jesus’ message was so potent that it struck fear in the corridors of power. At first glance, it seems that Jesus cleverly escapes the religious leaders’ question by answering it with another question: “[D]id the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?” (Matthew 21:25). This is not mere evasion. The question itself is a kind of answer. If the scribes and Pharisees answer “yes,” they affirm that they understand John’s ministry to be authorized by God and can then say the same about Jesus. If they answer “no,” they demonstrate that their minds are closed and the argument is futile. Jesus’ responsive question rejects the premise of their initial inquiry. “[D]id the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?” (Matthew 21:25), assumes that the power of the gospel is that it belongs to God. The question is whether the listener is ready to receive it. That is the query Jesus turns back to the religious leaders — not as a “gotcha,” but to steer them, and us, to the real demand before us. To drive his point home, Jesus tells them the story of two sons who respond to their father’s call to work in the vineyard. One declines but later changes his mind and goes to work. The other says he will go but does not. Which, Jesus asks, did the father’s will? ... Thank you to this week's writer, Rob Lowry. Read the rest of the commentary at pres-outlook.org. | 
