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The centurion
answered, ‘Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only speak
the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under
authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, “Go”, and he goes, and to another,
“Come”, and he comes, and to my slave, “Do this”, and the slave does
it.’ When Jesus heard him, he was amazed (Matthew 8:8-10a)
The story is simple enough. A Roman centurion, a commander of a hated and occupying army, comes to Jesus with his hat in his hand, hoping Jesus will heal his servant. But what impresses me is what is in his heart. First, his humility.
“I am not worthy,” he begins
his plea. Humility is a strange posture for a man with a sword at his side and
a cohort under his command. He doesn’t need to ask. He could demand, threaten
and bluster, if he so chose. He could have his men take Jesus by the nap of his
neck and drag him to his servant. But he does none of those things that come so
easily and often to the powerful and well-connected, who use force to get their
way.
He recognizes the mystery that
surrounds Jesus, stories and rumors that he possessed a power over forces
neither centurions nor emperors could command.
More moving, however, is the
love coursing through his beating heart for a servant he could replace with the
snap of his fingers. Perhaps, just perhaps, love for his ailing servant gave
him eyes to see the love flowing through Jesus for wounded bodies and broken
hearts.
So it is; love recognizes love.
Selfishness, hate and apathy are blind to its beauty.
Through the cloud of his fear,
the centurion recognized, however poorly, that Jesus was the rarest of
realities, a soul in whom great power is harnessed to a surpassing love. Just
give the command, the commander asked, trusting that Jesus not only could
but truly wanted to give him the desire of his heart.
Hearing the man’s speech, Jesus
is startled. One can imagine the two of them standing there, the centurion, his
head slightly bowed before one who can do what he cannot; Jesus, startled, his
mouth pursed in wonder at the beauty of the soul standing before him, the
faith, the love, the perennial human hunger for healing. It’s all there.
Like so many biblical stories,
this scene is not to parsed and wrung out for its meaning. It must be seen and
savored, heard and felt until Love’s presence and power awakens a hope and joy
you thought were beyond you.
David L. Miller
