Power and Authority Within and Between Churches
“The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors.
But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves.”
— Jesus, Luke 22:25–26
When the Family Fights
It’s almost absurd when you think about it.
Mom and dad are in the kitchen arguing about who’s really in charge—who controls the checkbook, who makes the rules—while the kids in the next room are quietly trying to figure out who they can give their money to so the poor can eat.
That’s what the Church looks like far too often.
The parents fight over power and authority—over doctrine, governance, and leadership titles—while the children just want to obey Jesus’ simple commands:
“Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. Love your neighbor.”
Power Politics vs. True Authority
There’s a crucial difference between power and authority.
Power politics happen within hierarchies—it’s about control, position, and influence. It’s the corporate spirit that measures greatness by pay, prestige, and platform.
But authority—true, godly authority—is different. It’s spiritual and moral, not institutional. It doesn’t come from a title; it comes from faithfulness.
Jesus modeled this perfectly:
“Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all.”
— Mark 10:43–44
Power seeks to rule.
Authority serves.
And only one of those looks anything like Jesus.
A Flat Church, Not a Corporate Ladder
When Paul wrote to the Philippians, he called his companions “co-workers in the gospel”—and he named women among them (Philippians 4:2–3).
There’s no org chart in the early church, no executive suite. There are elders and deacons, but not executives and directors.
The first Christians weren’t climbing ranks—they were washing feet.
It was a flat system of service, not a hierarchy of control.
Over time, that changed. The language of empire crept in. Offices became titles. Titles became power. Power became the measure of faithfulness.
But in the New Testament vision, the only Head of the Church is Christ (Ephesians 1:22–23).
Everyone else is a servant.
Who Has Authority Except Christ?
That’s the question that silences every argument:
Who actually has power or authority in the Church, except Christ Himself?
Jesus didn’t hand out thrones—He handed out towels.
He didn’t command His followers to dominate—He told them to serve.
“If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.”
— Mark 9:35
When church leadership becomes about command instead of care, we’ve already left His example behind.
When budgets, salaries, and titles replace love, mercy, and humility, we’re no longer following the Shepherd—we’re managing a corporation.
When Mom and Dad Become Denominations
The great authority battles in church history—Catholic vs. Protestant, pope vs. reformer—were, at their heart, arguments over who gets to speak for God.
Each side believed it was defending truth.
Each believed it was right.
But from a distance, it looks like a family argument that never ends.
Mom and dad fighting about who’s really in charge.
The kids—ordinary believers—just trying to do what Jesus said: help the poor, love the lost, give generously, live simply.
When authority becomes an argument, the mission of Christ becomes collateral damage.
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”
The Corporate Church
Let’s be honest.
Much of the modern church has become corporate—boards, branding, salaries, ladders.
We’ve turned “calling” into career.
Pastors chase promotions.
Ministries compete for funding.
Leaders guard their turf.
Meanwhile, the Sermon on the Mount gathers dust.
“No one can serve two masters... You cannot serve both God and money.”
When we organize ourselves like Fortune 500 companies, we shouldn’t be surprised when we act like them—territorial, image-conscious, and driven by numbers instead of souls.
The Forgotten Mission
The heartbreaking irony is that most believers—the “kids”—still get it.
They still want to serve, give, and love. They still feel the pull of Jesus’ compassion.
But they often have to look past the noise of leaders fighting over budgets and authority to do it.
Christ never asked us to prove who’s in charge.
He asked us to show who’s in need.
“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.”
That’s the heart of the gospel: love expressed as service.
And that’s exactly what power politics hides.
Back to the Table
Jesus didn’t build an empire. He built a table.
He didn’t crown rulers; He invited sinners.
He didn’t establish an institution of competition; He created a community of compassion.
When we remember that, the Church becomes beautiful again.
When we forget it, we just become another system chasing status.
The question remains, for every denomination, every congregation, and every one of us:
Who has power or authority in the Church, except Christ?
Until we answer that honestly, we’ll keep replaying the same old family argument—while the hungry still wait for bread.
Final Reflection
Authority in the Church isn’t about control.
It’s about credibility.
It’s about the kind of leadership that gets its hands dirty, its knees bent, and its heart broken for others.
“The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.”
If our authority doesn’t look like that, it isn’t Christ’s authority at all.
It’s just ambition wearing a robe.
When the Family Refuses to Reconcile
At some point, if mom and dad refuse to stop fighting, the kids have to get up from the table and do what they were raised to do.
If the Church will not love, then the people of God still can.
If the institutions will not serve, then the disciples still must.
If leadership cannot agree on who holds authority, then let every believer remember who truly does.
“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.”
— Matthew 25:40
So if the family dinner has turned into another argument about power, maybe it’s time to leave the table—not in rebellion, but in obedience.
Take what you have and give it where Christ would: to the poor, the hungry, the forgotten, the sick.
That’s not abandoning the Church.
That is the Church.
“The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed… for behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”
— Luke 17:20–21
Authority and Property
Legally, every organization has the right to control its property.
If a church tells you to leave, that’s within its legal rights — but it doesn’t mean it has spiritual authority over you.
Only Christ has that.
Their property lines do not define His kingdom.
The Church is wherever Christ reigns — and wherever love is lived out.
Final Call
If the Church becomes a corporation, then the faithful must become its conscience.
If the leaders fight over power, then the followers must return to the simplicity of the gospel:
Feed the hungry. Heal the broken. Love without conditions.
Jesus never said, “Give to the temple bureaucracy.”
He said, “Give to the poor.”
He never said, “Honor those who seek to rule you.”
He said, “Whoever wants to be greatest must be least.”
So if mom and dad won’t stop fighting, then go ahead — take your money, your gifts, your heart — and give them directly to the people Jesus loves most.
That’s not disobedience.
That’s faithfulness.
That’s what He would do.