James Cawdell writes: In today’s world, we often find ourselves caught between two cultural poles when it comes to power: one that celebrates dominance and control (often caricatured as the ‘red pill’ mindset); and another that views all power as inherently oppressive, associated with so-called ‘social Marxism’. Christianity, however, has never sat comfortably with either. One prizes strength without vulnerability; the other elevates vulnerability without space for strength.
This raises a vital question for those in ministry today: what does it mean for Christians to wield power well?
Throughout church history, the relationship with power has been complex. Early Christians preached obedience to governing authorities—until the gospel demanded otherwise (see Paul’s letters). In time, church leaders were elevated within the empire (as under Constantine), and bishops like Ambrose of Milan could even command public repentance from emperors. Later, reformers like Luther challenged corrupt power structures, while the horrors of the 20th century shifted theological attention towards equality and vulnerability. The Church has justified wars and slavery, but also led movements for peace, justice, and liberation.
While I was training for ordained ministry, a fellow ordinand once said to me over dinner that their greatest fear was having power—and that they wanted to give it away as fast as possible. That struck me. Power in ministry isn’t something you can simply dispose of. Even if you divest yourself of official roles, relational power remains. That conversation became the seed of this reflection.
Kenosis and Servant Leadership
Much of today’s Christian thinking around leadership has been shaped by theologians like Jürgen Moltmann and Henri Nouwen. A dominant model is what we might call kenotic servant leadership. Drawing on Philippians 2, it suggests that Christian leaders should imitate Christ’s self-emptying by embracing vulnerability, sacrifice, and solidarity with the suffering.
This model is not without biblical grounding. Jesus tells his disciples to serve one another, and calls himself the servant of all. The Church of England’s Doctrine Commission writes:
the distinctive quality of ‘power’ in the Christian life is found in identification with Christ’s way of self-emptying, self-sacrifice, suffering in solidarity with all the victims of human hurt of natural affliction, and self-oblation to the will of the Father. (The Doctrine Commission of the Church of England, ‘We Believe in the Holy Spirit’, in Contemporary Christian Classics (Church House Publishing, 2005), pp. 129–227 (p. 209).)
The Spirit is not excluded, but the same document says that obedience to him is seen as “self-emptying, glorious and lowly”. The authors presuppose a kenotic understanding of servant leadership. It is easy to link Christ’s self-emptying life and the call to servanthood. For is it not right that we imitate Jesus?
The Dangers of Kenosis
By itself, kenosis is dangerous because it calls us to only imitate part of Christ’s life, and can become seductive in making martyrs of its adherents. Kenosis is risks valorising suffering, and, as Karen Kilby writes in ‘The Seductions of Kenosis’: “suffering is not good.” (‘The seductions of kenosis’ in K. Kilby, & R. Davies (Eds.), Suffering and the Christian Life pp 163-174). The cross becomes a beautiful thing rather than an ugly one and suffering is to be lauded rather than avoided.
Secondly, kenosis undermines power dynamics. Kilby points out, ironically, that when leaders consciously “give away” power, they still hold it. They may even reinforce their status as godlike figures who graciously relinquish authority, rather than acknowledging that power can be used well, wisely, and accountably.
Kenotic theology can end up demeaning those who are being served as those in possession of outsized power are placed in the position of God as they divest themselves of it.
So while the call to imitate Christ is vital, it must encompass the whole of Christ’s life. And this is where the ascension becomes crucial.
The Forgotten Festival
The ascension is often overlooked in Christian liturgy—lost between Easter and Pentecost, and celebrated midweek in many traditions. But it deserves more attention. The New Testament recounts the ascension in several places, most clearly in Acts 1.
In Acts, the disciples ask Jesus whether he will now restore Israel (Acts 1.6), still imagining that this is primarily about political power. Jesus responds by promising power, but not as they expect. He speaks of the coming Holy Spirit (Acts 1.8), blesses them, and ascends. The disciples look on, perhaps expecting a prophetic transference like Elisha with Elijah (2 Kings 2.9–12). Instead, two heavenly messengers correct them: their task is not to wait for power, but to witness (Acts 1.11).
Luke structures this scene as a chiasm:
- The disciples expect power but are corrected
- Jesus promises power, blesses and gives a command
- The disciples again expect power and are corrected
The ascension corrects the disciples’ final misunderstanding. Jesus does not seize power. He receives it. This has been his point all the way through Luke’s gospel and Luke uses this to link his two books. This theme – power received, not grasped – is echoed in the early church.
Patristic Images of the Ascension
This nuanced understanding of power is not only central to the ascension narrative but is also echoed in the writings of the Church Fathers. To grasp the full impact of the ascension on Christian leadership, we must look beyond the earthly events and consider what was happening in heaven at that moment. Although this heavenly scene is not explicitly recorded in Scripture, it was vividly imagined by various patristic authors. Three theologians in particular offer us strikingly different but complementary visions: Justin Martyr, Tertullian, and Ambrose of Milan.
Justin Martyr (100–165)
Justin Martyr imagines Christ arriving at the gates of heaven, wounded and inglorious, so much so that heaven’s rulers do not recognise him.
When our Christ rose from the dead and ascended to heaven, the rulers in heaven, under appointment of God, are commanded to open the gates of heaven, that He who is King of glory may enter in, and having ascended, may sit on the right hand of the Father until He make the enemies His footstool, as has been made manifest by another Psalm. For when the rulers of heaven saw Him of uncomely and dishonoured appearance, and inglorious, not recognising Him, they inquired, ‘Who is this King of glory?’ And the Holy Spirit, either from the person of His Father, or from His own person, answers them, ‘The Lord of hosts, He is this King of glory’. (Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, 36)
Justin imagines Jesus arriving at heaven, encumbered by his wounds and bowed down under the weight of his suffering. Jesus having no glory, how could they recognise God himself arriving at their gates as he has always had? It isn’t until the Holy Spirit reveals him. But in that moment of announcement he is made glorious (Dialogue with Trypho, 85). At this point “though still in the flesh and wounded, Jesus is enthroned, having led captivity captive, embodying the strong and mighty Lord.”
Then Jesus begins bestowing his gifts through his Spirit. Justin is vague as to what these might be, but we need only read Acts to find out. Justin’s image blends glory and humility: Jesus’ wounds are not erased but transformed. Power is not seized but bestowed—a gift flowing from the Father.
Tertullian (155–220)
A generation later, as the ascension is solidified within the confessional life of the church, Tertullian portrays the ascension as a Roman Triumph. Jesus is a victorious general, leading captivity captive, parading death and sin in chains (compare Paul’s use of this image in 2 Cor 2.14–17). The gates of heaven open with celebration, and Jesus distributes spiritual gifts.
The ascension is scattered throughout the work of Tertullian, but the image is unmistakeable. As Jesus proceeds “the way of ascent [is] levelled by the victorious procession of the incarnate Lord.” (Tertullian, Scorpiace, 10) The gates are flung open with joy and celebration. Then, like a Roman general, the Son displays his spoils – captivity, slavery, and death. Christ distributes his gifts as a general would have done.
Tertullian connects the ascension with Pentecost, seeing it as the moment the Son sends the Spirit to empower humankind. As Jesus ascends and is crowned king, he bestows gifts on his people, including the power to work miracles and lead His Church. For Tertullian, the ascension is about glory. Jesus ascends with power, having received it in the resurrection.
This portrayal emphasises glory, liberation, and generosity. Yet even here, power is received and used to bless.
Ambrose (339–397)
Ambrose of Milan reunites these strands. Jesus enters heaven glorified, but his wounds remain visible. Ambrose calls them: “The trophy of the cross” (Ambrose of Milan, Exposition of the Christian Faith, IV.i.5-6). He then joins the two themes together imagining that the gates of heaven needed to expand to make room for Christ’s increased glory. Yet it is the wounds that declare his power. Christ is remembered as one whose humility magnifies his glory (Ambrose of Milan, On the Holy Spirit, I.v.6; Gerrit Dawson, Jesus Ascended, p. 68).
Lenses to Discuss Power
The Idea of Gift
The first point drawn from these ascension images is the idea of gift. In all of them, a generosity in giving flows from the Father to the Son and then from the Son to His people. The Son’s ascension is not self-initiated but occurs by the Father’s will. Whether depicted as the opening of heaven’s gates or permission for a Triumph, the Son receives glory from the Father and is granted a throne beside him. The power to rule over all creation is present in every image, with the Son accepting this power as a gift, not as a personal claim. This theme of gift continues as Jesus, now enthroned, sends power to his people, acting in accordance with the Father’s will. Without this divine power, Christ could not rule, and without his gifts, his people could not fulfil their call to mission and leadership. This perspective challenges the kenotic theology that views power as inherently bad. Instead, it raises a fundamental question about the gift of power: Can a good God give a bad gift?
A Display of Victory
The second point of agreement is the emphasis on displaying Christ’s bounty after his victory. In each image, captivity, death, and slavery are all presented as defeated as they are paraded before the host of heaven in chains. This exhibition displays Jesus’ victory and glorifies the Father. In a kenotic theology of power this display might seem to contradict the way of the cross. However, the exhibition is integral to the ascension. Although there is a question about whether this aspect of the ascension can be fully applied to humanity on this side of the resurrection, it must not be dismissed out of hand. This demonstration of victory is essential to the ascension.
Hospitality
The third point in common is the hospitality visible and implied in the ascension. In all the meditations on the ascension, Christ arrives at the outskirts of heaven facing closed doors, but after his entry, he does not close them again. Justin, Tertullian, and Ambrose all highlight that heaven’s gates are left open so that Christ’s followers might join him in heaven. This openness emphasizes the communal aspect of the ascension – Jesus ascends to prepare heaven for the arrival of the Father’s children, leaving the gates unlocked. Christ’s leadership cannot be understood without recognising his hospitality and his use of power to bless others. While this could be seen as an extension of the theme of gift, there is a distinction between how the Father and Son give gifts and who they welcome into heaven, with the Father welcoming his Son, and the Son welcoming his Church. The former is received now and empowers his people, the latter remains a future promise. The charismata are given to spread the gospel, while the hospitality of heaven offers a hope for a future with Christ. The duality of these two points – gift and hospitality – speaks to Christ’s method of leadership: even in his ascension, he continues to serve, preparing a place for those who will follow him.
Humility and Vulnerability
The final element of the lens is humility. Although emphasised less in the second image, it remains a crucial part of the ascension. Just as the humility of the incarnation cannot be fully understood without its glory, the glory of the ascension cannot be grasped without its humility. Tertullian, though focused on Christ’s bodily ascension, still mentions the wounds of Christ, which serve as proof of his humanity (Against Praxeas, 30). These wounds, far from being forgotten, are a witness to Christ’s humility (The Resurrection of the Flesh, 51).
In the writings of Ambrose and Justin Martyr, these wounds take on even greater significance, becoming central to Jesus’ arrival in heaven. They are a mark of his humility, which paradoxically increases his glory. In Justin’s vision, even the understanding of power in heaven must be corrected to include the possibility of woundedness and humility. This is part of the scandal of the ascension: creation is brought into the Godhead by the Son, who retains his human nature. On the face of it, this might seem like a lowering of God, as the first half of the Philippian ‘hymn’ suggests (Phil 2.5–8). But instead, it reveals a higher path, one that can only be understood through the lens of kenosis and humility. This aspect of the ascension bridges the gap between lordship and servanthood, allowing both to coexist within the same person.
Kenotic versus Ascended Leadership
The proponents of a kenotic servant leadership portray power as the great evil that infects the church in the first chance it gets (as set out, for example in The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen). Their work seems good with themes of vulnerability, compassion and spiritual depth where leaders are challenged to embrace their wounds and brokenness as a source of connection with others and leading to more prayerful life. However, it suffers from the same limitation as kenosis, the authority still remains with the powerful who deign to give their power to those less than them, and it quickly leads to a valorisation of suffering and burnout, which seems to becoming ever more common in Christian ministry.
The ascension offers a different way in which power can be given to a leader as it is to Christ in the ascension. As the leader comes to God, knowing their failings, hiding as the disciples did, they receive power as a gift, not as theirs but as God’s. The leader then continues to give, just as Christ does, emptying themselves, not of who they are but of the power that Christ gave them. Rather than placing themselves in the position of God, they are in the position of fellow servants, giving others what the master has given them.
The ascension calls both lordship and servanthood to remain one, not pitted against each other. Power is used by Jesus, and should be used by those he gives it to, not for the benefit of himself but for those he leads. It isn’t disposed of; Jesus does not lose his power by doing this, instead he retains it and builds up his community. No leader can fully divest themselves of power, and it would be a bad thing for them to try, as Marcus Honeysett points out in Powerful Leaders? Honeysett recognises the need to exercise power—but distinguishes between healthy and unhealthy exercise of power.
While those in formal positions of authority could seek to give away their power or avoid using it, it is not possible to remove the relational authority held within it because it is inherent in the position itself. The only way to give away this aspect of authority is to abolish the leadership position itself! What those in leadership can in fact to, inhabiting the position and the power that comes with it, is to invite others into their power, hear their needs and desires, and seek to care for them in imitation of the Good Shepherd.
The ascension redefines vulnerability and woundedness in servant leadership. It is a symbol of Christ’s triumph but should not be the leader’s primary focus. The ascended servant leader should use the testimony of their own woundedness as an encouragement and exhortation to those in their care. This should be visible in their teaching and preaching where the wound is borne proudly, not as the object of boasting, but as a signpost to the healing that God brings in life. God’s extravagant generosity is illuminated in this moment as the unholiness of the minster becomes clear in light of the holiness of God. The leader cannot properly lead and teach if they abandon their position and office and seek complete powerlessness.
Instead, they must accept the power which they have been given, as Christ accepted his authority, and embrace the vulnerability of their wounds as a trophy with which to display God’s healing. Their vulnerability remains as their testimony out of which they may better teach and lead the people given into their care. The ascension moves the focus of the leader away from their vulnerability and onto God’s triumph over it. The ascended servant leader is simply a conduit; through the exercising of their authority, it is God who is being revealed.
Conclusion
Power cannot be avoided in ministry. Whether formal or relational, it is real. But it is how we use it that matters. The ascension reminds us that Jesus receives power in humility, shares it generously, and uses it to prepare a place for his people.
This radically undermines both cultural extremes. Against the ‘red pill’ vision, the ascension reveals that power is not something to seize for self-glory, but something received in obedience and used to serve. And against the instinct to reject power altogether, the ascension insists that power can be good—when it is a gift from God, exercised with humility, and directed toward the flourishing of others.
An ascended servant leader doesn’t hoard authority, nor reject it outright. They receive it from God, use it for others, and hold it lightly. Their wounds remain—not as a badge of honour, but as signs of healing and hope. Vulnerability is not glorified in itself but becomes a testimony to God’s transforming grace.
As we form leaders in the Church today, we would do well to look up—not just to the cross, but to the cloud—where Christ reigns not in spite of his wounds, but with them, and from that place, continues to empower his people for the work of witness and hospitality.
In a world deeply confused about power, the ascension offers a better way.
Revd James Cawdell James is a curate at St Barnabas in Middlesbrough after studying for an MA in Theology and Mission at Cranmer Hall. His theological interests include historic Anglican theology, patristics and the ascension. He is recently married to Chenaiyi.
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Great stuff. And is Revd James a new contributor? More please!
Yes! Good isn’t he!
It’s me!
The James above is not James the first. I ask him again to change his moniker.
James the first
Would it be too Platonic to assert that Jesus IS the Power. So, if one has Jesus , one has Power?
Jesus said “you will see the angels of God Ascending and descending on the Son of man” and “I am the gate” He is the Way and the destination. Another look at Revelation 4 shows what Power looks like. He has eyes/horns like a crown of light which is His Spirit of power and authority.
Quite right and His is the power to empty Himself – quite different form our desire for power to stuff ourselves!
(I’m the writer of the article) That’s fasinating, I hadn’t concidered that. I think I’d want to say that the Holy Spirit is the power of God following Gregory the Great’s teachings. I wrote this work primarily looking at Christian leadership so hadn’t considered the congregation as much as I would like to.
I would say that in pentecost and in receiving the Holy Spirit in baptism and confirmation we are receiving power from on high and that we must not deny this power. Many problems come from the denial of power.
So having read your piece, I explained to my barber this morning how both of us have power – mine as membership secretary of a small voluntary club, to admit or refuse people into our Facebook group, his to say politely to people “Sorry, no appointment available till the day after tomorrow” or “No, your card payment has been declined, try again.” And it’s liberating to admit the reality of this power to ourselves, while also knowing who it comes from.
Yes! I have found is so liberating. Rather than trying to deny something I cannot get remove, instead I should acknowledge it, accept it and then use it in honour of the one who gave it to me.
But haven’t believers already received the Holy Spirit when they first believed? It doesn’t make sense to say we receive Him again at baptism and confirmation. Otherwise it’s like revolving doors.
PC1 – spot on. I don’t see anything about ‘confirmation’ in the Holy Writ, let alone anything about it being an occasion when one receives the Holy Spirit. About ‘baptism’ – I suppose it depends on what you mean. I think the Westminster Confession got this one about right when it said (if my memory serves me correctly – I think I read it about 40 years ago) that the outward sign is a symbol of an inward grace – and that the inward grace does not necessarily happen at the same time. The inward grace referred to is receiving the Holy Spirit for salvation, which results in a transforming of the heart and mind
Baptism does seem to get used in different ways in the Holy Scriptures – there is the ceremony with water (performed by John the Baptist) and then there is something quite different in Acts – whereby some people receive special sign gifts for the ministry and proclaiming the good news.
Essential Day!
Significance and substance, theologically, cosmically intervening reality.
Honing in on one of this weeks, short talks/ transcripts, here is Monday’s:
https://learn.ligonier.org/podcasts/things-unseen-with-sinclair-ferguson/he-ascended-into-heaven
And here is Tuesday’s:
https://learn.ligonier.org/podcasts/things-unseen-with-sinclair-ferguson/dominion-regained
‘No wonder Luke tells us the disciples had a threefold response: they worshiped him, they experienced great joy, and then they went back to the temple to praise God (Luke 24:52–53). I think when we are really gripped by the reality of Jesus’ ascension, we begin to echo that response. Yes, Jesus has ascended—glory to our King. And yes, joy to us as well and worship to God.’
I am surprised that he missed the fourth: to be witnesses to the risen Christ and call their hearers to repentance and faith.
I think he does in the other episodes this week. I recall him mentioning Stephen and Paul in connection with the Ascension. Preaching is also mentioned as is prophet priest and king continuation ministry.
Recently, something seems to have gone awry with the dating of the episodes. Today’s needed to be found by a search. They seem to be put up a day late, this side of the Pond.
Nevertheless, isn’t praise and worship all part of the evangelistic enterprise?
Thanks for this James. A question: is ‘social Marxism’ the same as ‘cultural Marxism’ or something else entirely?
The set Psalm for Ascension Day is Psalm is 110 and I found this poetic reflection on it helpful:
‘as we dig deep in these words from the past we see a vision of those who would lead:
they lay on themselves the robe of the priestly,
willingly weighed down by the burden of service,
sacrificing self for the good of their land,
growing in discernment and wisdom.
They bring greater good from the conflicts around them
and they heal the wounds of the people.’
Jim Cotter, Towards the City. 1993
Thanks for this reminder Tim. Brilliant. What a prophetic pastor Jim Cotter was.
Thanks, Andrew. I was reading around commentaries on Ps 110 and just happened to have Cotter’s poems/meditations on Psalms 100 – 150 on the shelf. Never met him and don’t know much about him but many people speak highly of him as a poet & pastor.
His sexual beliefs were way off beam. Not the sign of a prophetic pastor,
Well, is it impossible for someone we disagree with in one area to speak wisdom in others? E.g. I wouldn’t agree with Whitefield on predestination but that doesn’t allow me to dismiss everything he wrote. He may still have valuable things to say to me. I wouldn’t want to divide people into those I’ll take notice of and those I won’t on the basis of one area of disagreement. Just a thought …
You’re welcome Tim. Social marxism and cultural marxism are often used interchangably. But the ‘cultural’ phrase tends to have a wider outlook looking not only at financial life, but also on how we understand social interactions. Particularly how we understand relationships through the lens of power.
That’s a facinating quote, and I think true in many ways. However, it is in the face of quotes like that I wrote my dissertation. I’m happy to send you the full fat version of the MA dissertation which talks about Henri Nouwen and against his idea of the wounded healer which echos much of this quote.
The problem with this is the way in which someones role consumes them as they empty themselves they can cease to be themselves. Instead leadership is an answer to a call in which we become more ourselves rather than emptied of our selves.
It’s years since I read any of Nowen, included wounded healer, but I can’t recall that his prominent teaching was to empty yourself, but to recognise our brokeness which is a universal human condition in different theological terms. There is no place for superiority.
Isn’t ’empty yourself’ something you do when you go to the toilet?
Jock, we are told to forget those things which are behind Phil 3:3
Strain for those things which are ahead… (NIV)
Sorry l meant Phil 3:13
Jock, you ust consider sll these things as skubala.
Thanks, James. I also understand ‘cultural Marxism’ to be a more loaded term used by some rather extreme right commentators.
That’s an interesting thought about the Cotter quote, but I didn’t read it as being about emptying ourselves in the sense of losing ourselves or being so consumed by a role so we no longer exist. I understand Nouwen to be saying something a bit different to Cotter. It’s sacrificial in the sense of Christ’s sacrifice not in the sense of being a giving up of all our selfish desires, but of recognising the cost of giving in to the desire for God. All vocations should be (in part) about becoming more ourselves, but not because we’re aiming to be ‘our best selves’ (to quote a rather vacuous current phrase) but perhaps it happens obliquely; God gives us the gift of ourselves when we’re not seeking it! And always with the proviso that our lives are hid with Christ in God so we can’t yet know fully who we are. There’s something deeply paradoxical going on here, I think that, as you say, gets us beyond the naive alternatives that you outline at the start. Thanks again. I may take you up on the offer of the MA dissertation!
No. With respect to the poet, no one lays on him/herself the robe of the priestly (Hebrews 5:4.) God lays it on every one of us when he causes us to believe in Jesus. There aren’t two categories of believers, the slightly-holy and the very-holy.
Good point. I guess he was working with the dual sense of the priesthood of all believers and ministerial priesthood. And it’s a prose poem so maybe more allusive than propositional? But your point still applies. Unfortunately we can’t ask him as he died many years ago.
Tim,
I don’t see any paradox. On conversion we are a new creation not a continuation of the old. Sanctification is at the same time, immediate and a work in progress.
A 14 year old convert who dies, is just as much justified in Christ as is an octogenarian who dies after 50 years in ministry.
And what you distinguish as proposition, is a representation of reality.
Did the Ascension take place in place space, time, history, or is it only propositional or poetry?
Thanks, Geoff. I was really reflecting on James’ original article about power and leadership which I think does work with paradoxes rather than on the Ascension. I don’t see how we can get by without paradoxes in theology as it’s not solely about factual propositions that we unequivocally assent to. But some of us probably find one style of theological approach to how truth is discovered and expressed more congenial than another.
Tim,
Christianity is not less than propositional truth. Conversion is not merely an intellectual assement but a conviction of sin by the Holy Spirit and the experiential, an indwelling, a union with Christ in reality.
All of which is only possible through reality of the Ascension of Jesus and descent of Holy Spirit.
Not sure that paradox, pertains in this, as it is not a matter for superiority but astonished humbled wonder and thankfulness.
Such Amazing Grace not merited.
Geoff, I think you are talking past what Tim is saying. This is not unusual.
I believe you are both referring to the reality of the Ascension of Jesus (although as Tim points out this is not the point of the original article). Can you not see that both the *Ascension* of Jesus and the *descent* of the holy Spirit are both realities being described metaphorically? So, bringing in *’propositional’ truth* is a bit beside the point.
And you haven’t addressed the point of *paradox*.
Hi Tim
thank you for your gracious reply. The demand of total holiness, even for those of us without priestly or teaching ambitions, is a scary one. Often we want to say to God “Leave me alone so that I may have some happiness, before I go away and am no more” – Psalm 39:13.
Thanks. Scary indeed, holiness is ‘A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything).’ in T S Eliot’s words.
‘O cleanse thou me from my secret faults’ as the Prayer Book puts it.
So just what is Holiness, God’s Holiness? Is it good, sweet or sour? The beauty of holiness.
Is it by works, or simplicity as that well known biblical theologian YS Eliot seems to put it, with no moral entailment s? What does the Bible say, the mouth of God?
Psalm 110 – fulfilled in the Ascension of Jesus.
‘Priesty King, Enthroned for Ever’ an answer to God’s promise, is Alec Motyer’s heading to the psalm.
(Jesus is God’s vindicated King, in the midst of enemies (echo of psalm 2). His rule will extend v2; with a large enthusiast group of willing volunteers v3 whose hearts have been changed from hostile autonomy to glad surrender as service.
In v4 the covenant God says he’s not only a King, but he is a Priest -King, patterned on the model of Melchizedek, the Priest-King in Abraham’s day.
He governs his people. He represents his people before God, bringing them into his presence, and does so ‘for ever’.
v5-7 proclaim the definitive victory. The NT frequently quotes this psalm frequently as fulfilled in Jesus Christ. His preisthoodis expounded in Hebrews 5-7.
As we sing this declatory psalm we are warned to flee from the folly of opposing Him, moved to a glad willingness to join His army …with assurance of our final security under his rule as our Priest and our King. -Christopher Ash, Teaching Psalms, Volume 2.)
While agreeing with the above with its references to the messianic Psalm 110 and the correlation made with the references to Hebrews 5-7 highlighting Jesus’ role as the great high priest, I would take this a stage further by referring to Hebrews 8:1 which declares: “The point of what we are saying is this: We do have such a high priest, *who sat down at the throne of the majesty in heaven* —”
The preoccupation in this post with ‘ministry and power’ has clouded the primary significance of Ascension – the divine *authority* of Jesus Christ ; an authority previously adumbrated in Matthew 20:28! Incidentally, once again, we have a reference to Acts 1:6 without quoting the text. The reference to ‘times and dates’ [1:7] is hardly a reference to a mistaken understanding of political power. Rather it reflects Luke’s prophetic declaration (via Zechariah : Praise to the Lord ‘the God of Israel because he has visited and redeemed his people – Luke I :68).
Indeed Colin.
It is is disappointing that the biblical theology scripture of the Ascension was not discussed on an Anglican site, a denomination that adhered to the liturgy of the Christian year.
It is a little odd to me that there was aore prolonged consideration a Presbyterian, Sinclair Ferguson.
High Priest, who, wearing his garb, brought the covenant people into the presence of God. How much more do the ultimate High priest. And the King spreading his Kingdom reign. Lordship, as in Matthew 28.
Lost in wonder, lost in love, lost I praise forevermore.
I have great difficulties understanding what this article is all about. Jesus has power – he conquered sin and death through his crucifixion and resurrection – and, though Him, those of us who believe share in His victory; He opened the gates of heaven for us.
As far as Christian ministry here and now – I can say that there are some Christian ministers who have profoundly shaped my thinking and outlook on life, through hearing them texpounding the Word in a clear way – but power? Rather, it is through them that Christ exercises His power in my life.
I’ll repeat what I wrote previously: I’m in regular communication with a 91 year old, who has told me about the best Christian fellowship he had the privilege of belonging to when he was a teenager. It was a Fishermen’s meeting hall, where all of them seemed to be equal – they all came along with a word, a prayer or a song. None of them were pushing themselves forward. ‘After you’ – bending over backwards to let the other guy give his contribution first. They disagreed with each other, but the manner in which they did so was so gentle that you wouldn’t be aware that they were disagreeing unless you were listening very carefully. They had difficulties with Big Words that the KJV which they used had (this was back in the 1940’s early 50’s), but he says that (as a teenager coming to faith) he learned much more about what the faith was all about and how it manifested itself in the lives of believers from that fellowship than from any other congregation – including those who had a brainy theologian up front with a perceptive understanding of Scripture.
I’m wondering therefore, based on this example, where power comes into the ministry.
Of course, those in the fellowship who were skippers and owners of fishing boats did exercise power and authority in their working lives; they were the ones who decided where to go and fish, when to put down the nets, etc …. and the men had to either accept this or find a different fishing vessel to work on. What I fail to see here, though, is where all this ‘power’ comes into Christian ministry – other than Christ exercising His power though the Word preached well, breaking in on the lives of those who receive the Word.
Hi Jock,
Thank you so much for engaging so thoughtfully with the piece. I really appreciate your comment – it’s clear that your reflections come from a deep place of faith and experience, and the story you share about the fishermen’s meeting hall is a beautiful picture of humble, Christlike fellowship. That spirit of “after you” leadership – where everyone contributes and no one pushes themselves forward – is exactly the kind of community the article is longing for.
I also wholeheartedly agree with your key insight: it is Christ who exercises power through his Word. Any transformation that comes through Christian ministry is his doing, not ours. That’s a vital reminder and one I deeply affirm.
Where I may not have communicated clearly enough is this: the article isn’t arguing for more power in ministry, or even a new kind of authority—it’s recognising that, whether we like it or not, ministers (and indeed any Christian in a position of influence) carry a kind of relational or spiritual power. Even the most humble of pastors can shape hearts, communities, and decisions. The question I’m exploring is: how can that power be used well, rather than ignored or misused?
That’s where I find the ascension really helpful. Jesus receives power—but not to dominate or control. He receives it from the Father, and then immediately gives gifts to his people. He holds power with humility and generosity. His wounds are still visible. His authority is used entirely to bless others.
So rather than trying to reject power altogether (which can ironically make it harder to be accountable), I’m suggesting that we follow the pattern of the ascended Christ—holding power lightly, using it to serve, and always pointing back to him.
Thank you again for engaging so generously. I’m genuinely encouraged by your example and by the grace in your words.
I think that is right. Humility and servitude are the keys. If you ever consider yourself too big to be led then you are too little to lead.
Just to touch on one point, James. “…no one pushes themselves forward…”
How do people come to be “ordained”. Do they seek it, put themselves forward? How about you? And why? For what purpose? Why an MA?
While there is an integral aspect of service, it provides a “platform,” a status. Primarily a platform for whom and service of whom? And how?
Didn’t Peter put himself forward as the rep for the group at Pentecost? He was clearly recognised as a leader. Indeed per John, Jesus made him as such.
Precisely Jock,
I too am struggling to make sense of this;
I scarcely know where to begin to comment.
What is Power? And what is Authority?
They are two different words in the Greek
but are often mistranslated in some versions.
Jesus was recognized as speaking with/having authority.
The power He spoke of as being of the Spirit.
In the incident of the centurion who had power and authority he recognized that Jesus was also “a man under authority”
in spite of His Spirit power.
It seems to me that many religious people focused on
having power; to the detriment of the authority.
Watchman Nee once said, one cannot have authority
who has not first learned to be under authority.
True, the people in our lives that have imbued life into our experience have done so in our recognizing their divine authority, we are edified.
Your motif of the fishermen puts me in mind of J N Darby’s ecclesiology.
Propagated by Watchman Nee and Witness Lee in China
The rapidly expanding Chinese Church functions with power and authority without any formal ruling body.
I sometimes wonder if there was a general persecution amongst us the Church may have to go underground, as some have advocated in the past;
Without detriment to the spread of the glorious Gospel.
“The mighty power at work within us .”
Shalom.
If power is a gift from God, and in the Church it really ought to be seen that way as it’s inherently derived from an institution established by Christ, then the parable of the talents (Matthew 25) comes into play. The question facing the servants in the parable wasn’t how much of the master’s talents had they given away, but what had they done with the talents they were given.
While the article is not really tethered to the Ascension of Jesus but as a launch-pad for a topic, does the power of God, manefested by Holy Spirit in the incarnation and bodily resurrection of Jesus, who indwells believers, overcome the power of sin and satan over our lives?
From the picture at top it looks like this post is for people who have difficulty putting a duvet together. But you have a point.
I would say most Christians can struggle with sin so I don’t see God’s power always ‘overcoming’ it. It certainly isn’t automatic. We still have free Will to say yes or no.
PC1 – re: wretched man of Romans 7:14-25. A Christian continues to sin – a Christian is more aware of the horror of sin and hence the ‘wretched man’. Your atheist who sins (c/f the ‘Don Juan’ figure of Romans 1:18-32) actually considers sin to be jolly good fun (no ‘wretched man’ there).
Argument of Romans: God’s power *has* overcome sin; we only see the first fruits of this here and now (since we still have the down-drag of the sinful flesh – as described so eloquently in Romans 7:14-25), but we have the Spirit as a deposit *guaranteeing* what is to come – which is that we’ll see the victory over sin in all its fullness in the next life (we see it only in part, through a glass darkly, in this life).
When we come to Him, we do keep on sinning; we are much more painfully aware of our sinfulness than we were before we came to believe, but I’d say that the nature of the sin changes. For example, I don’t think I can imagine myself committing any of the blatant sins (e.g. adultery, theft, telling lies, etc …..), but we are painfully aware that much of our behaviour is actually governed by selfishness and satisfying the ego rather than putting God, His will, His kingdom first and foremost.
Free Will – yeah, of course it’s there. Rejecting God, turning one’s back on Him and turning from Salvation is always a logical possibility, but if we are truly in Him, we’ll find that it actually becomes a moral *impossibility* for us. I think Hebrews 6:4 is instructive here. I can’t imagine that the author is writing about the empty set, so we can infer that there do exist people whom God has enlightened, who have tasted and seen that the Lord is good and who, nevertheless choose to reject Him. After that, there is no way back – their fate is sealed.
But it seems to me, with Romans 7:14-25 in mind, that the ‘free will’ business looks like a red herring for those of us who have come to faith.
Thank you, James [Cawdell] for the clarification.
You clearly have a heart for the church and its people.
On the question of power and authority in the church and in ministry
I would heartily recommend a sermon by Martin Lloyd Jones
that speaks to your heart felt desire.
To quote;-
Do the practices of the early church have anything to say to the contemporary church?
How can one explain the obvious difference between what is read in the pages of Scripture regarding the church and the present manifestation of so many contemporary church models?
Martyn Lloyd-Jones. In this sermon on Romans 12:6–8 titled “Lessons from Church History,”
he elaborates on the glimpses of early church life and asks pressing questions about the development of church governance over the past two centuries
. Dr. Lloyd-Jones provides an overview and explanation on the accumulation of power
by the bishops throughout church history.
See @
https://www.mljtrust.org/sermons/book-of-romans/lessons-from-church-history/?utm_source=MLJ+Trust&utm_campaign=f2b077437d-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_10_13_2024_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_541932ad6f-f2b077437d-5312924
Shalom.
Hi James,
Fascinating article.
In terms of practical pastoral theology as it relates to safeguarding the use of power linked to Clericalism has been identified as one of the systemic causes of the abuse crisis.
I see your thesis in this article as perhaps entering some murky rabbit holes, especially when the risk of misuse of power is ever present especially where Ministers or Clerics use charisma power and grooming to abuse or cover up abuse.
You are correct about Nouwen and The Wounded Healer concept being dangerous but could the use of power linked to your theology of the ascension also have in its base some disturbing links to Clericalism?
Richie
I often wonder what ordinands are taught about the theology of Priesthood?
Or what do they imagine when called to in desiring ordination or what they might be “elevated” to?
When God began to “educate” His people one of the first things He taught them was the centrality of Priesthood which continued right through to the NT.
Abraham – Melchisedek to Christ to a Kingdom of Priests.
It was God who ordained and anointed and dressed his priests distinctively;
Hence I have no difficulty worshiping in High or Low churches if the priest functions according to
God’s estimation.
All churches have their peculiar rituals.
Some churches follow a corporate practice – 1 Cor 14:26 How is it then, brethren? when ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation. Let all things be done unto edifying.
I have noticed that some “priests “are a bit wary of this but I think it is a good way to
“Take the temperature “of the fellowship and tailor teaching towards what is lacking.
Or bring in Teachers to address the issue[s]i.e.to give direction.
Perhaps a question that might be asked of candidates for the “highest office” might be
“What is your theology of Priesthood?” Does it accord to God’s design?
Speaking truth to power does not seem to be the practice of the Apostles;
Their first concern was for the edifying of the church, the bringing of the saints to perfection [Feed my sheep/lambs]
until we ALL come to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.
Priesthood has significant importance for the people of God, not top down but a calling for all the people to realize what is our collective call ng ,our responsibilities our authority and our privileges and blessings.
Perhaps another set question might be “What is your theology of the Church?”
Shalom.
Surely, are not all Christians are in a ‘holy priesthood’ (1 Pet 2:5)?
Cranmer was subtle in retaining the word ‘priest’, as he could trace its origin through Old English from presbyter and presbuteros, in distinction to hieros.
I am surprised to see, in what is ostensibly a discussion of the Ascension, no reference to the locus classicus on the Christian ministry, Ephesians 4.8-13.
Christian ministry is seen as a *gift to Christian men and women, and thus an enriching of their lives (as every gift should be), but with the clear goal that the ministry exists ‘for the equipment of the saints for the work of ministry’ (note that the ‘calamitous comma’ is omitted, because it is the saints who do the work of ministry, the gifts of ‘orders’ is for their ‘equipping’, ‘katartismos’).
It is notable that St Paul, while he sometimes had a ‘difficult’ relationship with his congregations (as we can see in Galatians and Corinthians), he didn’t doubt that he possessed authority from the Ascended Christ and this was for the formation of Christ in his spiritual children. I wonder how Paul’s confidence in his calling and in his grasp of the Gospel would be seen by these late-20th century thinkers. Arrogant? Or incomprehensible?
In any case, remember that one of the purposes of the Ascension was to give GIFTS to the Church. Every sermon, piece of counsel and action by church leaders must be seen in this light.
James – It’s great to have a great communicator preaching to us; Acts 17:11 is of extreme importance when understanding how we are expected to respond to this; ‘Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness *and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.*’
We are given to understand that Paul didn’t have a difficult relationship with the Bereans of Acts 17:11. The gifted preacher is a sign post to The Way – he himself is not the way. We understand the nature of Paul’s authority in the light of the Bereans – who didn’t swallow what he had to say hook line and sinker, but measured it up against Scripture before appropriating it.
When C. of E. bishops start mouthing off supporting things that are clearly at odds with the Holy Writ, it is quite in order to tell them politely to go and boil their heads.
James,
You are right to stress this omission. However the issue of ‘gifts’ per se has been raised already. What has been lacking however has been a clear reference to the question of authority – and this, Ephesians 4: 8f certainly would rectify. But so does verse 7! The word translated as ‘grace’ is ‘charis. Nevertheless, the term translated as ‘gifts’ [7] from the root ‘didomi’ stresses the *purpose* of grace (gifts). I take your point about ‘the calamitous comma’, but have reservations about your following clause ‘ it is the saints who *do the work of ministry* ? Remember: “For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
I would suggest therefore that, certainly in this context, not only ‘to each one of us has grace been given’ but that this grace comes to us ‘by divine appointment” and therefore by divine authority; an authority revealed through primarily through Jesus Christ and by extension through (a) the ‘covenants of promise'[2:12] ; more latterly through’the apostles and prophets’ and more latterly still through the ministries outlined in 4:11. And the purpose of this authority is illuminated in 13 – 15!
In conclusion, I accept the logic of your penultimate sentence . But it does require heavy qualification!
Taken as a whole isn’t Ephesian Theo/Christo-centric for the glory of God.
Ephesians 3:20-21.
And the purpose is; Ephesians 4:12-13.
Again it is Christo-centric. Christ… faith…knowledge of the Son of God…maturity…whole measure of the fulness of Christ.
To God be the Glory.
Indeed, observers might note that one D.Trump is currently
being challenged that he is excercising power without authority.
Like some of us whose power is predicated by their bellies and not the legal text.
Thankfully the courts are curtailing his own perceived power and showing him what authority he actually has.
Ian Paul has previously shown us that the very etymology of the NT chosen vocabulary concerns authority (& therefore power).
Both ekklesia and euangelion are chosen by NT writers because of the implications of authority they evoke. The meaning of “Gospel” is not “Good News” ! – it is something far more impactful than that, the proclamation of a new authority. ekklesia is the channel by which that devolved and delegated authority is to be activated and realised. These terms are chosen for a reason.
I would suggest we could say the whole NT is an expansion of what “Thy Kingdom (so power & authority) come” means.
Alternatively we could equally say the whole NT is an expansion of Ps 110:1, which is pretty much the same thing. (I would argue Ps110:1 is the bedrock of NT theology, or at the very least, one major cornerstone.)
(Incidentally I have had a couple of short papers published expanding these ideas)