In Luke 7.1-10, we find the story of Jesus
healing the son of a centurion in Capernaum. This is a fantastic healing story,
but there are also a number of other important lessons to be drawn from the
passage. More than anything, we will find that we can be surprised at the
goodness in the hearts of others, even in the hearts of persons we might have
expected to be hateful.
A centurion in Capernaum had a slave whom he
valued highly, and went he learned that Jesus was in Capernaum, he sent some
Jewish elders to Jesus to convince him to come and heal the servant. The elders
themselves tell Jesus: He is worthy of having you do this for him (v. 4).
It is amazing that the Jews should hold a centurion of the oppressive Roman army
in such high esteem, considering that other Jews were ready to commit murder
against members of the Roman army at any moment! They hold him in high esteem
because he had done so much good for the Jewish people: he loves our people,
and it is he who built our synagogue for us (v. 5).
This in itself
had to have been a surprise! The Romans, being the oppressors and imperialists,
did not hold human persons of other ethnic groups in very high regard. It is
obvious that they thought them sub-human or at least seriously inferior, since
they violated their autonomy and personal freedom in order to draw taxes from
them. If you are a first-century Palestinian, on the other hand, you could very
quickly grow to hate the Romans for treating you as an animal and taking away
your freedom. Every human person wants to be free to lead the life he finds
good, and oppression and imperialism steps in the way of that through violence.
It quickly and effectively breeds hate and xenophobia of the extremest
sort.
Yet here was one of the enemy, a filthy Roman centurion who not
only did not oppress the Palestinians, but instead built a synagogue for them
and won the respect of the people. The elders of the Jews in Capernaum, the
leaders of the group, highly respected him and considered him worthy of
the attention of a great prophet and man of God such as Jesus of Nazareth. This
is the first surprise: that there can exist good, genuine good, even among the
dreaded strangers of groups we've grown to hate.
But notice the language
of the centurion, when he sends friends to meet Jesus on the way to his house:
Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my
roof (v. 6). Whereas the Jewish elders considered him worthy -- perhaps in
contradistinction to other recipients of Christ's grace, e.g. the sinful woman
in vv. 36ff. of the same chapter -- the centurion himself claims to be
unworthy.
This is one of those recognizable traits of true goodness in a
person: the truly good person doesn't acknowledge his own goodness so much as
his own unworthiness. A person who doesn't call attention to himself, who is
aware of his faults even as others praise him and esteem him highly -- that is a
recognizably good person. It sounds strange and paradoxical, but it would seem
that the better a person is, the better they can recognize and acknowledge their
own faults.
Notice now, too, the explanation the centurion gives as to
why he does not insist that Christ come all the way to his house: But only
speak the word, and let my servant be healed. For I also am a man set 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
(v. 7-8). Jesus is so amazed at the faith in this response that he exclaims
to the crowd following him: I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such
faith (v. 9).
Now what is this centurions faith, except a recognition
of the utter authority of Christ? He doesn't work by magic, he doesn't work by
psychosomatic suggestion and trickery -- he has authority over the very earth
and course of nature itself. This is a very fine recognition of the close
connection between God and Christ, even if it comes short of the specific
details of say a Chalcedonian definition of the Incarnation. The centurion
recognizes that a mere word from Christ -- recall to mind, at this juncture,
that God created the world by his speech in Gen 1 -- and the servant can be
healed.
This is a sort of faith that Christ had not even found among the
Israelites. When he declared the forgiveness of sins of the paralytic man, the
scribes and Pharisees began to question, Who is this who is speaking
blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone? (Luke 5.21). They question
him later, Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?
(5.30). From many of the Jews, he received only questions and opposition and
unbelief in spite of all the signs he had performed. But in this pagan oppressor
of the evil empire, he found a faith that recognized Christ's true nature and
authority. This was a greater faith than anyone in Israel had expressed until
then!
What can we learn from this, then? That we may be heartily
surprised by the goodness we find in other persons; it may be the person we
previously thought to be so terrible is actually quite good, better even than we
are. It may just be that God works outside the borders of our own circle of
friends or coreligionists or kinsmen. We ought to learn that we cannot judge
another person before knowing him; each of us has a life of our own, a walk with
God of our own, and we may be surprised in what we find in the other person.
No comments :
Post a Comment