The Arrogance of Power and the Power of Friendship

Here is an offering from my guest blogger, Fr. William C. Graham.  Fr. Graham is a priest of the Diocese of Duluth in Minnesota, where he directs the emerging Braegelman Program in Catholic Studies at the College of St. Scholastica. His book A Catholic Handbook was published last year by Paulist Press and his forthcoming book will be published by Paulist in autumn 2011: A Catholic Handbook on Sex: Essentials for the 21st Century. I've had the privilege and delight of being his editor.

In our Church and in our society today, we are acutely sensitive both to the arrogance of power and the abuse of power. We are given examples and antidotes in the scriptures appointed for us in these Lenten days. For example, we heard on the first Sunday of Lent about Jesus, tempted in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). He does not turn stones to bread to satisfy his hunger; we note that the power of Jesus is used always on behalf of others, never to satisfy personal need or desire.
    We see something similar in the gospel story of the raising of Lazarus. I was helped to recognize this Lenten lesson by an e-mail one of my sisters sent out last week, a story making the rounds on the internet:
    An officer of the Drug Enforcement Administration stopped at a ranch in Texas and spoke with an old rancher. He told the rancher, “I need to inspect your ranch for illegally grown drugs.” The rancher said, “Okay, but don’t go in that field over there,” as he pointed out the location.
    The DEA officer exploded, saying, “Mister, I have the authority of the Federal Government with me.” Reaching into his rear pants pocket, he removed his badge and proudly displayed it to the rancher. “See this badge? This badge means I am allowed to go wherever I wish. On any land. No questions asked or answers given. Have I made myself clear? Do you understand?”
    The rancher nodded politely, apologized, and went about his chores. A short time later, the old rancher heard loud screams and saw the DEA officer running for his life chased by the rancher’s enormous bull.
    With every step the bull was gaining ground on the officer, and it seemed likely that he’d be gored before he reached safety. The officer was clearly terrified. The rancher threw down his tools, ran to the fence and yelled loudly: “Your badge! Show him your badge!”
    How power is used and for whom is a question that leads us to consider what Dominican Sister Barbara E. Reid, writing in America magazine (April 4, 2011), calls the most puzzling part of the Gospel story of the raising of Lazarus (John 11:1-45) that Christians who share the common lectionary read this year on the fifth Sunday of Lent.
    Jesus hears that Lazarus is sick, but does not go immediately to his friend. Later Martha says, “If you had been here my brother would not have died.” She and her cohort seem to wonder, Where is Jesus when you need him?
    Reid notes that as Jesus’s followers try to build communities of equal disciples, the challenge is to embrace as friends those who are not kin and those to whom we are not naturally drawn. This is the mission and example of Jesus: he loves all people—to the death. There are no favorites or best friends.
    We are to understand, writes Reid, that the anonymous Beloved Disciple represents each person who allows himself or herself to be loved by Jesus and to love him in return. All of us, beloved of Jesus, can put ourselves in the place of the one who rests on Jesus’ bosom (13:23).
    This Christian belief in the life-changing presence of Jesus will not take away our grief but, instead, turn our mourning into hope-filled joy.