I wouldn’t call myself a rebel. “Reluctant rule follower” is probably more accurate.

Tell me something has to be done a certain way and there is a pretty good chance my first thought will be: Says who?

There is something almost uniquely American about that reaction. We admire the guy who questions conventional wisdom, challenges authority and figures out a better way. Some of the best things about our country were built by people who refused to accept, “That’s just the way it’s done.”

That independent streak can be a virtue.

But it can also become a trap.

Because eventually “says who?” can turn into “nobody tells me what to do.” And once I become the final authority on everything: what is true, what is right, what marriage means, what sex means, what I owe another person, even what God should expect of me, I have created a world in which the only person left to correct me is me.

That may sound like freedom. I’m not sure it is.

Look at marriage. Cohabitation has become so normal that recent research shows most Americans now in their late 30s and early 40s have lived with an unmarried partner at some point. Other research projects that roughly one-third of today’s youngest adults may reach middle age having never married.

Obviously, there are many reasons behind those numbers. But they point toward a larger cultural shift: institutions that once told us, This is bigger than youincreasingly have to justify themselves to us.

Marriage. Family. Community. Church.

We reserve the right to decide which parts we will accept.

And that brings us to this Sunday’s Gospel.

In this upcoming Sunday Gospel (Matthew 18:15–20), Jesus gives His disciples a surprisingly specific process for dealing with someone who has done wrong. First, go to the man privately. If that fails, bring one or two others. And if that fails, Jesus says something that should catch the attention of anyone with a strong independent streak: “Tell the church.”

Notice what He doesn’t say. 

He doesn’t say, “Decide for yourself.” He doesn’t say, “Follow your own truth.” He doesn’t even say, “Just pray about it and do whatever feels right.”

He points them toward an authority outside themselves.

Then He goes further: “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

For Catholics, that matters. The Church is not simply a voluntary association of people who just happen to believe similar things. Christ left behind a Church with real authority.

And that can be difficult for people like me.

I like having the final say.

The problem is that I am also perfectly capable of being wrong. I can rationalize what I want. I can convince myself that my motives are better than they are. And if I look long enough, I can usually find somebody willing to tell me that whatever I already wanted to do is perfectly reasonable.

Sometimes the authority we resist most is the authority we need precisely because it can tell us no.

That doesn’t mean every person in authority is right. The Church is made up of flawed human beings, and her history gives Catholics plenty of reasons to remain humble. But imperfect authority doesn’t mean we are better off with no authority at all.

After all, I’m flawed too.

If I accept Christ only when He agrees with me, I’m not really following Christ. I’m following myself—with Jesus along as an adviser.

Maybe that is the challenge in this Sunday’s Gospel for those of us with a little rebellious streak. Faith sometimes requires enough humility to admit that Christ gave us an authority outside ourselves, and that we may actually need it.

So when the Church challenges something I believe, want or am doing, am I willing to listen?

Or is my first response still:

Says who?

–Chris Teague