The question is of central importance: How did Jesus understand power? Are there starting points in the Jesus movement that can be used as a yardstick today?
Hermeneutic preliminary remarks
A careless transfer is out of the question: the New Testament does not provide a template. Jesus' statements and behaviour cannot simply be transferred to our time without reflection. The Bible is - in the words of Diego Arenhoevel - the "travelling beginning". Only by critically analysing the time from which the texts originate, the language in which they were written and the ideas that shaped them, can something like the "message" of a text be found, which can rarely enough be taken literally, but can nevertheless be taken at its word. The Bible does not provide ready-made blueprints, but it does provide signposts and impulses to search for paths that are still characterised by the Gospel and are viable today.
In view of the enormous abuse of power that has become apparent in the church, the task and the debate are urgently needed. In this context, "power" should first of all be understood as an element in social relationships: as a social phenomenon, as a means and a force in interpersonal interaction. "Power" is not corrupt or bad from the outset and in every case. It takes power to get things done, to shape community and to achieve goals. The Bible also speaks of power: of God, the Almighty (who is even referred to twice in the creed), of the Lord of Hosts, of the reign of God and the authority of Jesus, of kings, prophets and priests endowed with power. In the Psalms, the power of God represents a point of refuge and an anchor of hope: "Awaken your power and come to our aid!" (Ps 80:3) There are various powers at work in the world that influence people's lives. The power of God is described as power pro nobisas the strength and refuge of the weak and powerless.
On the other hand, however, there is the sobering realisation that there has never been an era in church history in which individuals or groups have not succumbed to the temptation to abuse power in one way or another. A sober stocktaking is required. Where is power exercised: in the liturgy, in diaconia, in education, preaching and pastoral care? Where can power be abused? A look at the beginnings of the Jesus movement and early Christianity should help us to perceive and categorise power, to question its function and purpose in order to shape and use it in a reflected and controlled manner.
The Gospels
A portal text: Mark 10:42-45
How did Jesus understand power? What forms and structures of power did he want to see realised in the community that emerged in the context of the announcement of the imminent reign of God? One text (Mark 10:42-45) may be considered particularly significant in this context - due to its age and its unwieldiness: a text that seems to be at least prompted and characterised by the ideas and statements of the historical Jesus.
42And summoning them (the disciples), Jesus tells them: You know that those who are supposed to rule over the nations seize them and their great ones rape them. 43But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, 44and whoever wants to be first among you shall be slave to all, 45For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many. (Mark 10:42-45)
In the Gospel of Mark, this story concludes the middle section of the Gospel: Jesus is travelling up to Jerusalem with the disciples. In three places (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33), Jesus announces his imminent death. Each time, the reference to his humiliation and death on the cross triggers a reaction on the part of the disciples: Peter protests (Mk 8:32); the disciples argue about which of them is the greatest (Mk 9:33-34); James and John jostle for the places on Jesus' left and right in his "glory" (Mk 10:37). It seems as if Jesus' impending passion would not only not be understood by the disciples, but would even trigger a violent backlash: In the face of impending powerlessness, they are concerned with the question of maintaining prestige and power. At the end of Jesus' journey with his disciples and shortly before his entry into Jerusalem, Jesus' speech can be understood as a summary that criticises power and clarifies the profile of discipleship.
The salutation and introduction "you know" alludes to experiences that realistically - especially in an area under Roman rule - are part of people's everyday and painful experiences. The choice of words is as drastic as it is descriptive: it's about "seizure" and "rape", oppression, financial exploitation, military violence and deprivation of liberty. A hidden criticism can be recognised in the phrase "those who are supposed to rule": What is considered great and powerful in the world is not simply recognised here without question. Especially in the light of God's reign, some things may appear greater than they actually are. A demarcation becomes clear through the personal pronouns used: with you, among you ... The contrast is described as a fact and thus clearly emphasised. The community of followers is determined by a different logic and different behaviour: "But it is not so among you!"
We are not talking about a "powerless" or unstructured community here. There are tasks, services and also "firsts". But to "grow up" and "be first" qualifies the willingness to serve: the way in which the task is carried out and one's own self-image. This applies not only selectively, but - as the broad statement makes clear ("whoever") - generally and fundamentally. As a confirming and ratifying model, reference is made to the Son of Man who, as a child of man, knows about the lowliness and understands and performs his service through and through as devotion to others. The fact that this is not just an abstract idea or a superficial, external appearance is made clear by the gift of life: the Son of Man is not willing to serve, he is service in person. Talk of a ransom brings to mind the ransoming of slaves or the setting free of captives. The service of the Son of Man is thus qualified: His commitment does not generate any profit and does not contribute to enhancing his own reputation, because his service is focussed on the powerless and defenceless, on slaves, the imprisoned and the inferior.
The Gospel of Mark
Jesus' proclamation in the Gospel of Mark begins with the announcement of the reign of God (Mk 1:15). This is reflected in Jesus' actions: in his deeds, wherever illness and exclusion are overcome, but also in the lifestyle and behaviour of the community of followers. The term "gospel" - which the author places prominently at the beginning of the scripture (Mk 1:1) - may already represent a decisive point of contrast: The "good news" does not contain the success story of a general trimmed for performance and assertiveness, but the life story of a down-and-out. Under the heading "Gospel", Mark tells the story of a crucified man. The cross is not just an "ingredient" at the end of Jesus' journey. Mark emphasises the path of Jesus as a path of humiliation and shapes the path of the disciples as a path of following the cross: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." (Mk 8:34) This imprints a new idea of greatness and power on the community of disciples: Power is understood (cf. Mk 10:42-45) as a willingness to serve and is defined as devotion. The exercise of power presupposes the willingness to renounce status, to follow the cross and to risk one's own life for the powerless and defenceless.
The Gospel of Matthew
Right at the beginning of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus is presented as the Son of David and the Son of Abraham (Mt 1:1). He interprets the law with authority - in word and deed. Matthew chooses a mountain as the location for Jesus' first public and programmatic speech: a place that is characterised by the memory of the giving of the law at Sinai and of Moses and symbolises authority. Nevertheless, Jesus - in his last public speech and therefore in a prominent position in the Gospel - identifies with all the weak and suffering: "You have done this to me." (Mt 25:31-46)
Matthew emphasises the failure of the disciples more clearly than in all the other gospels: they doubt (right into the final scene of the gospel) and are called people of little faith. Peter even swears perjury in the face of Jesus' imprisonment. The disciples remain fickle in their discipleship and as such - without their doubts being overcome - are entrusted with the worldwide proclamation: fragile vessels that constantly draw on the power of the Risen One in the midst of their own powerlessness (Mt 28:16-20).
The Lucanian double work
The infancy narratives of Luke's Gospel in particular are characterised by the expectation of a reversal of existing power relations. The Magnificat sings of a God who "pushes the mighty from their thrones and exalts the lowly, feeds the hungry and sends the rich away empty" (Luke 1:52-53). Jesus' birth in poor circumstances also represents a sharp contrast: The idea of the political greatness and power of the empire evoked by the mention of Emperor Augustus (Luke 2:1) is counteracted. The defenceless child in the manger is the epitome of powerlessness and defencelessness, the beginning of a radical questioning of earthly powers and authorities and the expression of a decisive re-evaluation: God is on the side of the poor.
Luke's Gospel in particular emphasises Jesus' devotion to outsiders, the poor and the powerless: Jesus knows that he is sent "to proclaim good news to the poor and (...) to set the oppressed free" (Luke 4:18). In the face of the dispute between the disciples - which Luke even transfers to the Upper Room (Luke 22:24) - Jesus summarises his mission and his self-image: "But I am in your midst as one,
who serves." (Luke 22:27)
The early Christians - in all their brokenness - have to take this as their yardstick: In the Acts of the Apostles, the church appears to be attractive not least because it is alternative. Luke certainly idealises the community of Christians, but nevertheless describes it as the definitive ideal (Acts 2:41-47; 4:32-35): No one suffers hardship. Social boundaries are overcome. The social network of the church is strong. In order to ensure the care of widows and the poor, separate ministries are even "invented"
(Acts 6:1-7): Deacons who are to take over the service at the tables and ensure the distribution of goods in the congregation. Power serves the lives of others!
The Gospel of John
The Gospel of John is of a different kind - in terms of language, but also theologically and Christologically: historical traditions merge with the belief that Jesus is "the way, the truth and the life" (John 14:6). The prologue to the Gospel already understands the incarnation of the Logos as a path to humiliation: "The Logos became flesh." (Jn 1:14) The Logos renounces power in order to empower the world and people: to recognise the light in the darkness, the life in the midst of a world that has fallen into death.
Instead of a detailed description of the Last Supper, the Gospel of John uses the story of the washing of the feet: Jesus sets an example by which discipleship is to be measured (John 13:15). Slave service is declared to be a way of life: dedication is the standard, renunciation of status the basic characteristic of this service. The letters of John spell this out. God is love and calls for mutual love and respect: "By this we have known love, that he laid down his life for us; so we also must lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters." (1 John 3:16) This gives all tasks and services a fundamental orientation: it is never about self-realisation, one's own reputation or a self-satisfied exercise of power. It is about caring, about greatness through devotion: about power that serves to empower others.
The historical Jesus
If we ask about Jesus' very own convictions, which are reflected in the stories of the Gospels, but are also translated there and applied to different audiences, we will have to start with the central date of Jesus' proclamation. Jesus proclaims the reign of God. New plausibilities emerge from this "system centre" and theological force field: Principles and values that should also modify the idea of power and determine the exercise of power.
The proclamation of the reign of God therefore always includes a critical enquiry into existing political and social power relations. Jesus is certainly not politically active in the true sense of the word. His answer to the tax question can also be understood in the sense of a relatively disinterested turning away (Mark 12:17): He does not seem to be particularly interested in the political question of power. But he criticises rulers who abuse their power. All earthly power is measured against the content of God's reign. Only in the light of God's reign - in the light of those values that the kingdom of God stands for in Jesus' proclamation - does power gain its meaning and direction. It can only be understood as service and dedication. The life and work of Jesus are the standard and model.
This is reflected not least in Jesus' self-image and in his renunciation of (powerful) titles, in his defence against self-glory and in his rejection of demonstrations of power. The synoptic gospels keep alive the memory of a Jesus who does not trumpet his ministry. The ministry character of his work should thus become clear: It is not about the miracle worker, but about the deed on the sick and suffering. Jesus rejects demands to prove his own power. His own power serves to empower others and should remain clearly recognisable as such. In his work and in the community around him, the values of the kingdom of God should be demonstrated: in renouncing one's own status and reputation, in respecting others and in special care for the weak, in renouncing violence and in a lifestyle that not only feigns service, but is service through and through. His non-violent gift of life and his death on the cross illustrate and ratify this.
A synthesis: renouncing power and criticising power
Let's go back to the beginning. Looking back on the work and message of Jesus does not provide us with a simple template. It is difficult to find simple answers to complex questions of our time from the message of Jesus and from the memory of Jesus in the Gospels. However, this does not mean that looking back is not necessary or has nothing more to tell us, quite the opposite.
The unmasking beginning
Jesus is the decisive point of reference for all those who refer to him, who want to follow him and take his message as a measure: In a critical debate and in a reflective manner, what Jesus stood for, what characterises his message and his work must be translated into a changed time. The remembrance of Jesus in the Gospels is a test mission that has coagulated into a letter: a critical question about any institutionalisation and consolidation of power. Jesus - always and necessarily - puts Christianity and church life to the test.
Alfred Loisy wrote the sentence: "Jesus announced the kingdom, and what came was the church." Usually only this sentence is quoted and thus taken out of context in order to understand the sentence in terms of a fundamental contrast between the message of Jesus and the Church. But Loisy continues: "It came and expanded the form of the gospel, which could not possibly be preserved as it was since Jesus' task was completed with the Passion. If one establishes the principle that everything has a right to exist only in its original state, then there is no institution on earth and in human history whose legitimacy and value cannot be disputed. Such a principle runs counter to the law of life, which is a movement and a constant endeavour to adapt to eternally changing and new conditions. Christianity has not evaded this law, and it must not be criticised for obeying it. It could not do otherwise." The church is the - often enough half-finished and half-hearted, fragile and repeatedly failing - attempt to take the message of Jesus as a measure and translate it into life. This also and above all applies to the question of the organisation of ministries, tasks and power. If the church wants to refer to its beginning, it must not ignore the centre of Jesus' proclamation: the proclamation of the reign of God, the questioning of earthly powers and authorities and the search for alternative forms of power and the exercise of power.
The forgotten centre of the proclamation
What role does the kingdom of God still play in Christianity? Has this fundamental date of Jesus' proclamation not long since fallen behind? Who still expects the kingdom of God to dawn? Who is focussing their practice on this?
The great uncertainty for the early Christians in the first years and decades after Jesus' ministry was the absence of this kingdom. The acute expectation of the near future gave rise to hope and yet was increasingly painful. It was an arduous journey - the letters of Paul, but also the stories of the Acts of the Apostles, make this clear - until Christians learnt to wait, but without giving up hope. The expectation was not cancelled, but modified: Expectation in the near future became constant expectation. If church proclamation wants to be Jesuan, it will have to be orientated towards the reign of God: All services, tasks and structures must be measured against this. In the light of the reign of God - as the name makes clear - all earthly rule is limited. The reign of God must characterise and structure the content of power in the church. In other words, power is at the service of the values associated with the reign of God in Jesus' proclamation. At the centre is a God who seeks people and meets them mercifully, who gives himself "to seek and to save that which is lost" (Luke 19:10).
The light and dark side of the Force
Even in the Jesus movement, power is ambivalent, susceptible to abuse and in need of correction. Power can be useful: The authority of Jesus heals. But power can also corrupt and lead to the destruction of enemies, the enforcement of one's own interests and the use of violence. When Jesus is denied accommodation in a Samaritan village, the disciples demand a demonstrative show of power: "When the disciples James and John saw this, they said: Lord, shall we say that fire comes down from heaven and destroys them?" (Luke 9:54) Jesus rebukes the disciples: this is obviously not what Jesus understands by power. Power is service, otherwise it obscures the message of God's reign. Perhaps much can be gained if all those who possess and exercise power are clearly aware of the human temptation to abuse power. It would be even more important to define the content of power in the church and to organise it practically in such a way that it is - if not completely immune to abuse, then at least - limited and capable of being corrected, but also critically and constructively discussed and evaluated.
The free centre
Explicitly and implicitly, the New Testament tradition is characterised by the insight that the centre belongs to the Master. Even in the midst of differentiated tasks and organised structures, the centre remains free: "Do not let anyone call you rabbi, for one is your teacher, but you are all brothers and sisters. Nor shall you call anyone on earth your father, for one is your Father, he who is in heaven. Nor should you allow yourselves to be called master, for one is your
Master, Christ." (Mt 23:8-10)
The free centre could lead to parity in the design and exercise of power in the church. Disciples remain disciples and are - at this very basic level and in the best sense of the word - equal. Every function and every task remains centred on this. All power is therefore provisional, dependent, temporary and limited. "Some chairs," said Klaus Hemmerle, "are better left vacant." Wouldn't an unfilled power vacuum suit the church well? There are vacancies that we cannot fill, do not need to fill and, above all, must not fill. Power in the church must be understood as provisional and radically limited, because the real master in the house is the master. The critical question to all power that is assumed and exercised in the church is of a fundamental nature: Where is it reflected in social interaction, in the structures, in the organisation and exercise of tasks and ministries, in the life of the church that the centre is (already) occupied?
Fashion show critical of power
Power in the church looks to the authority of Jesus and must be justified and understood from this: But this authority of Jesus is - clearly recognisable in his work and in the signs of salvation - a "power", a service to the defenceless and powerless. Insignia of power can hardly be coined with reference to the devoted, defenceless and ultimately crucified Jesus!
Are the ministries and tasks in the church transparent in terms of Jesus' powerlessness and defencelessness? Their Jesuanic hallmarks are care, charity and renunciation of status. Why - as Gottfried Bachl asked in his book, which is still well worth reading The difficult Jesus - Does Jesus actually fit so badly into the robes of his church? Clothes make the man, sure! But if that is the case, then the wardrobe of those who proclaim this Jesus and want to point to him should also be scrutinised critically: Where does the power of Jesus, which is geared towards renouncing status, imbued with devotion and seeking and promoting the greatness and reputation of his neighbour, become visible and comprehensible?
The thought experiment that Gottfried Bachl undertakes is - like the look back at the beginnings of Christianity - still decisive today, but also sobering: "In order to discover how naked Jesus was, it is helpful to conduct an imaginary experiment (...). We should imagine Jesus in the official robes of his churches: Jesus as Roman Pope, in the great regalia of this office, with the tiara, the mitre, the shepherd's crook, the fisherman's ring on his finger, in the white robe, in the splendour of primacy and infallibility, Jesus as Metropolitan, as Ecumenical Patriarch, as Superintendent, as Archbishop, as House Prelate, as Monsignor, Jesus as Cardinal, Jesus as bearer of titles: Most Reverend Jesus, His Holiness Jesus, His Excellency, His Eminence, the Spiritual Council Jesus. Listing these possibilities brings me close to cabaret. Everyone laughs at such ideas.
Some will say that it is theologically improper, that differentiation is in order here. Others will resent it and prefer to ban it, not so much because they are concerned about the name of Jesus, but because they see it as an attack on the hierarchical church. But I remain with the question: Why do most people laugh at this idea, why do theologically educated people turn up their noses, why do Catholics who are zealous for the Church want to prohibit it? Why does Jesus fit so poorly into the garb of his representatives, as they like to call themselves? The attempt to let Jesus try on the garb of his church to see how it looks on him is not entirely inappropriate." (The difficult Jesus, 56-57) 
