The
Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade
Readings: Kings 8:22-23, 41-43; Psalm 96:1-9; Luke 7:1-10
How appropriate that the gospel reading in the lectionary
texts assigned for today would be about a soldier. How many here today have served in our armed
forces – please stand up to be recognized.
Now if this had been first century Palestine and you
had been Roman soldiers, we would not have been applauding you. We would have likely cowered before you, or
booed and hissed, or even thrown rotten vegetables. Because Roman soldiers were feared and
hated. They were regarded as ruthless
oppressors not to be trusted. So to have
one show up in a gospel story in such a positive light would have been shocking
to the first readers of this passage from Luke.
The soldier sends word to Jesus asking for him to heal
his beloved servant. The Jewish elders
vouch for him, explaining that he helped them build their temple and was a
friend to them. This would have been
very much out of the ordinary for the first listeners of this story. Even more surprising was the fact that this
centurion could have just tossed this servant aside knowing he could have
gotten another one – they are just expendable work animals to the Romans. But the gospel portrays him as actually
caring for this servant. Jewish
listeners would have been uncomfortable with this, because not only is this
outside the typical negative expectations about a Roman soldier, but this also
shows us that soldiers are human – they are capable of showing compassion. So we have a Roman soldier in a liminal
position between Gentiles and Jews, and between life and death for his servant. Which means that the gospel is blurring the
lines between foreigners and natives, between who we think is inside the circle
of God’s love and who is outside.
But given our lesson from 1 Kings and Psalm 96, it
shouldn’t surprise us. Because Jewish
scripture has many passages that speak about welcoming the foreigner. When Solomon prays to God at the dedication
of the Temple, he says, “When a foreigner, who is not of your people Israel,
comes from the distant land because of your name, for they shall hear of our
great name, your mighty hand, and your outstretched arm – when a foreigner
comes and prays toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place, and
do according to all that the foreigner calls to you” (1 Kings 8:41-43a). Likewise, Psalm 96 speaks of declaring God’s
glory among the nations – meaning the Gentiles.
“Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples, ascribe to the Lord
glory and strength” (Psalm 96:7).
This tells us that God’s love extends beyond the typical
boundaries of clans and tribes, beyond distinctions of religion and race and
culture. “Families of the peoples”
extends the family of God in ways we would not expect, and that, frankly, many
people are not comfortable with. What we
hear instead in our media and from certain politicians and from voices filled
with fear and anger are calls for walls to be built to keep away the families
of the peoples, to keep out the foreigners.
And to use soldiers to patrol these walls and defend against any
intruders.
But that’s not the vision for the human family that
God has in mind. Apparently what God
envisions is for soldiers to actually help escort people across those
artificial lines so that they may be welcomed into healing and safety. Because that’s what the centurion did that
day in Capernaum. He sent an escort for
Jesus, seeking healing for his servant.
Notice that the soldier is well-aware of the
boundaries and respects them. He knows
that it would not be acceptable for Jesus, a Jew, to enter into his house. This would make Jesus unclean, and the
soldier had no intention of disrespecting Jesus. Which, again, is uncharacteristic for a Roman
soldier. By rights, they can enter any
house at any time, drag anyone anywhere they want with impunity. But that’s not what this centurion does. Instead he sends word to Jesus recognizing
his authority.
“For I also am a man set under authority,” his
messenger says on the soldier’s behalf.
Again – shocking! Here was a
professional officer of the Roman army acknowledging that Jesus is under orders
from the highest authority – God. And like a centurion who can order his
soldiers and officers around as he sees fit, God has given Jesus the authority
to wield power as he sees fit. But it’s
not military power. It is a much deeper
and life-giving power. It is the power
of healing, the power of life over death.
And the centurion doesn’t even need to see Jesus or
have him come into his house in order for this power to be exercised. So many others seek to touch Jesus, to crowd
around him, demand signs of him. But the
centurion says this:
“Only
speak the word and let my servant be healed.”
Only speak the word! You know what that’s called? Faith!
Trust! This shocks even
Jesus! And to think that this is coming
from none other than a Roman centurion – the last person the gospel listeners
would expect to get it.
There is a line from a popular song called “Fix My Eyes” by the band For King and Country: “It
takes a soldier who knows his orders to walk the walk I’m supposed to walk.” The soldier never even sees Jesus – but he is
ready to take his marching orders from this rabbi. Only speak the word, and I will trust the
power of that Word.
Today as we welcome a child into God’s family through
baptism, that Word will be spoken again.
Like that soldier, we have never even seen Jesus. But we know the power of that Word which
extends across time and space and through this scripture and over this water
and says to this child: You are washed.
You are welcome. You are loved.
How about you?
What is that Word saying to you?
Our prayer is that of the soldier, trusting in faith:
Only speak the word – to the soldier and to the servant:
you are healed.
Only speak the word – to the foreigner and the
native: you are welcomed.
Only speak the word – to the parent and the child: you
are loved.
Only speak the Word.
Amen.