A deep Advent reflection on Matthew 21:23–27, showing how God’s true authority is recognised through faithful action and obedience rather than titles, control, or human approval. (15-12-25)
Praise be to Jesus Christ
During a long train journey, an elderly passenger suddenly collapsed. Confusion spread quickly. People stood up, voices rose, and fear filled the compartment. One man quietly stepped forward, helped the passenger sit properly, loosened tight clothing, guided others to give space, and stayed close until breathing returned to normal. No one stopped him. No one asked who he was or what right he had to act. At that moment, life itself made the decision. Authority was recognised, not demanded, because responsibility was taken.
In today’s Gospel, Matthew 21:23–27, Jesus is teaching in the temple when the chief priests and elders confront Him and demand to know the source of His authority. They do not deny the good He is doing, nor do they question the power of His words. What troubles them is that His actions do not pass through their control. For them, authority exists only when it is approved, managed, and protected. Jesus does not argue or defend Himself. Instead, He places before them the life of John the Baptist, a man without temple office, yet one whose call to repentance carried great weight because his life was truthful. Faced with this, the leaders retreat into silence, not because they lack knowledge, but because accepting the truth would have required change.
The Old Testament prepares us for this moment again and again. When David was chosen by God, he was still an unnoticed shepherd, far from any throne or public recognition. God’s authority rested upon him long before people acknowledged it. Human approval always comes later; divine authority comes first. This is why God’s work often unsettles established systems, because it cannot be controlled or contained.
This Gospel speaks quietly but firmly to our family and daily religious life. Authority at home is often mistaken for command, but children recognise authority in a different way. They recognise it in consistency, in sacrifice, in prayer that continues even when problems remain unsolved. A parent who admits mistakes, who chooses forgiveness over pride, who lives faith honestly rather than perfectly, carries an authority that does not need to be enforced. Such authority shapes hearts more deeply than instructions ever can.
Saint Joseph stands beside this Gospel without a single recorded word. Yet he rises in the night, protects the child, flees into uncertainty, and works faithfully day after day. God entrusts him with the Holy Family not because of status or explanation, but because of obedience. His quiet fidelity gives him an authority that history itself recognises.
Advent reveals the deepest truth about authority. God enters the world not with power, but as a child placed in a manger. Those who are open in heart recognise Him. Those who guard their position remain blind. The leaders in the temple could not accept Jesus because surrender would have disturbed their security. Silence felt safer than obedience.
Even today, God’s authority comes to us quietly through conscience, through truth that disturbs comfort, through the call to change habits and forgive deeply. Blessed are those who recognise this authority and allow it to shape their lives.
Lord, may I act in you authority. Amen
