As we find out elsewhere in the New Testament, not every Roman soldier was from Italy.  The centurion—like a captain in the army, over around one hundred soldiers—the centurion may have been born in Greece, North Africa, Turkey, or even Judea.  Wherever he may have been born, he is now a Roman officer, representing Rome’s presence and authority.  Ordinarily, that would not make him especially popular.  Whether to win hearts and minds or from genuine, personal motives, the centurion seems to have taken an active interest in the spiritual welfare of the Jews in Capernaum.  He’s gone to the trouble and expense of building a synagogue for them; estimates are it was around sixty-five feet by sixty, and could hold up to a hundred worshippers.  If a Jew built a church building for us, would we worship there?  What if it were a Muslim who did, or a Hindu?  We know that, with long service in the region and opportunity to encounter and learn about the faith of the Jews, there were Romans who found themselves drawn to this faith, this God.  I wonder if this centurion was one of them, or maybe on the way there.

Capernaum may be familiar to us as the town to which Jesus relocates when he leaves Nazareth.  We don’t know when or why that happened.  We know he was raised in Nazareth and then, at some point, he relocated to Capernaum, a fishing town on the shores of Galilee.  It was a respectably large town for the time and place, maybe as many as 1,500, which would include around 350 adult men—it’s telling that the synagogue could hold only about one hundred!  Capernaum was on one of the main highways in the region, the road that led to Damascus.  Travelers, merchants with their wares, news and ideas were continually coming to and through the place.  News and ideas could also go out from Capernaum.

Jesus comes back to a desperate situation in town: “a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die” (7:2).  We could approach this with a degree of cynicism: I mean, who wouldn’t be willing to incur some expense to bring a prized animal back to health, whether horse, heifer, or slave?  Though we hear often enough that slaves were no more than objects, living tools, it just seems counterintuitive to me that a master could so successfully and entirely dehumanize his “property,” especially a servant so highly valued.  There’s a relationship here, beloved, genuine and attached.  Rather than getting hung up on the owner-property problem, Luke is inviting us to contemplate the relationship.  The servant, the slave, is part of the centurion’s household.  They know each other; they rely upon each other.

Why do we value anyone?  Don’t tell me it’s because of the intrinsic value of every human being.  Yes, yes, of course.  Still—why do we value anyone?  Because we know this one, and this one knows us.  We share some history, some experiences, some trials and troubles, some joys and blessings.  Because we see the gifts, skills, and aptitudes of this one, and we value these.  Not just because this person is useful to us but because this person makes life better; our life is better with this person, because of this person.  Relationship necessarily involves a qualitative dimension.  When someone helps make life better for us, we sometimes want life to be good for that person, too.  We take an interest, we feel some concern, I daresay even some love for this other person.  The centurion valued this servant and didn’t want him to die if he could be saved.

But death comes for us all, beloved.  Who can overcome death?  Who can bring the healing that restores to life?  “The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant” (7:3).  Why didn’t the centurion go to Jesus himself?  What the centurion knew, what he had to contend with every day, even with his proven, established regard for the Jews among whom he lived, was that Jews officially were to have nothing to do with Gentiles—at least as little as humanly possible.  Jews were to keep themselves ceremonially, ritually clean.  Gentiles were, by virtue of being Gentiles, ceremonially capital-U Unclean.  The centurion assumes that, like almost all his fellow Jews, Jesus would not be open to dealing with this Roman directly.

But the centurion had heard about Jesus: Jesus had a gift for healing; Jesus was a prophet.  God was with Jesus.  Such news would make an impression.  There would be those who would laugh it off and say nonsense.  There were others who shrugged their shoulders as if, who knew, people say all kinds of things.  Then there were some, desperate enough, who would be willing to try anything if it had even the least chance of helping.  The centurion needed help: his servant, the centurion’s irreplaceable capital-H Help, was sick unto death.

Knowing the Jews as he does, the Roman officer assumes his own, personal request would not move Jesus, but if the request came through the elders . . . If you want a favor from someone you don’t know, but you know someone who does know the person . . . the way forward is obvious, isn’t it?  Especially if you believe the one you do know will be respected by the one who could do you the favor.  “When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, ‘This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue’” (7:4-5).  He deserves your help because he has helped us.  He has been a benefactor to us: do this good thing for him.  We get that.  We understand this thinking.  Who does good things for us deserves some goodness from us in return.  Why don’t we give that goodness to God, then?  Deserve.  We deserve it.  Oh, how such thinking drives us and bewitches us.  What’s coming to me.  You owe me.  That’s not justice talk; that’s resentment talk, that’s offended talk; that’s how we talk when we feel we’re getting a raw deal.  We’ve never offered God any other kind of deal: Now, God, remember, I go and do my thing, whenever, however, with whoever, wherever, and You don’t criticize or ask questions, and You love me.  Got it?

Well, I can tell you, brothers and sisters, Jesus if anyone knows exactly what each person deserves.  I think we’d be a little shocked.  But Jesus goes, anyway.  I mean, that’s why he came!  As the Spirit whispers to them, nudges hearts Jesus’ way, people who realize they are in a desperate situation will recognize there is help in Jesus.  Beloved, the Holy Spirit is at work all through what we read in the Bible.  The Spirit is at work all around us: Lord give us eyes and hearts to notice!

“So Jesus went with them.  He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: ‘Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof’” (7:6).  Well, if you didn’t want me to come, why did you send for me?  It might help to remember the cultural and religious situation: a Jew would cause himself to become unclean by setting foot in the home of a Gentile.  We may say so what, but this was a big thing for an observant Jew, like eating pork or failing to keep the Sabbath.  Like deliberately jumping around in a mud puddle in your nice Sunday clothes on the way to church, or rolling around out in the pasture.  That Jesus was willing to make that sacrifice tells us something, of course.

The centurion, through his friends, tells Jesus he does not deserve the presence of Jesus.  But the Jewish elders had just told Jesus the centurion was worthy of Jesus’ help, deserved help.  So which is it?  The elders made their argument in terms they understood: yes, he’s a Gentile, but he has been a benefactor to us; therefore, he deserves your help.  The centurion hadn’t instructed the elders how to persuade Jesus to come; all the centurion had was the hope that Jesus—whom people were saying had the power of healing—Jesus would help.  The centurion didn’t lay down any terms regarding how that help was to come; all he wanted was the blessing.  Maybe Jesus would agree to help—well, it’s worth a try!

Beloved, why do we allow ourselves to get so preoccupied with the details of how we want God’s blessing to come to us, of what God’s blessing must look like to be a real blessing for us?  Let’s let God bless us as He wants His way.  With the Spirit, let’s learn to see the blessings and be thankful for them, and, for whatever we feel may still be lacking, let us trust God will provide when and as seems best to Him.  God shall supply all our need.  As for all we think we want?  Let’s also inquire whether we’re asking for what we really need or for what our fearful, panicky, doubting hearts have convinced us is just so necessary for our happiness.  We fret about many things; only one is necessary.

What is the centurion saying?  I know I don’t deserve your help.  I’m not asking because I believe I deserve any blessing from you.  I’m not even asking for myself, directly, though I will receive blessing if you heal my dying servant.  “That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you.  But say the word, and my servant will be healed” (7:7).  I’m not relying upon my worthiness, Lord.  I’m relying upon what I’ve heard about you.  I guess, really, I’m relying upon grace, maybe even faith.  Speak the Word.  I know it will be done.  “For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me.  I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes.  I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it” (7:8).  That’s the centurion’s world.  The entire organization depends upon knowing it will be done, the confidence that it will be done.  Disregard and disobedience would be fatal to the entire system.  Disregard and disobedience would be unthinkable, because attentiveness, discipline, and obedience are of the essence of the system.  I think there are some lessons to be learned here.  We do what we’re told on the job, at school, at home.  Then, when God tells us to do something . . .

“When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, ‘I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel’” (7:9).  Jesus doesn’t have to lay his hands upon the man, doesn’t have to go there by the bedside and pray, splash anyone with sacred water or dab with blessed oil.  Just say the Word, Lord.  Speak your Word of power, and it will be done, I know.  I know how authority works.  I rely upon it all the time.  Jesus is not opposed to going to the bedside.  He is not opposed to laying his hands on people.  He blesses with the water; he blesses with the oil of gladness.  There may be those who need this, who are at such a point and place in life and faith that they need such things.  Blessed also are those for whom it is enough to know Jesus has spoken the Word; blessed are those who, knowing Jesus, know the Word is already given.