Wowing Jesus (Proper 4C)

 

 

“Wowing Jesus”
Second Sunday After Pentecost; Proper 4 (Year C)
29 May 2016
Homily at 8 a.m. said and 10:00 a.m. sung Eucharist
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland

The Rev. Fr. Tony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D.

1 Kings 8:22-23, 41-43; Psalm 96:1-9; Galatians 1:1-12; Luke 7:1-10

God, take away our hearts of stone
 and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.

Again and again in the gospel stories of Jesus, Jesus says or does something that astounds his disciples or even the crowds following him.  He wows them by healing someone, calming the sea, multiplying loaves or fish, or replying to an aggressive question in a particularly unexpected way.  Again and again Jesus tries to get them to understand what these signs mean, to no avail. “If I cast out evil spirits, know that God’s kingdom is here.  If I heal, God is already in charge of things.  I give the blind their sight, the deaf their hearing, the lame their mobility.   This shows God’s reign is already breaking into our day to day world.”   But they fail to recognize what is right before their eyes.  

Throughout these stories and in his parables, Jesus teaches that God is good and loving.  “God gives the blessing of rain and sunshine both on the righteous and the wicked.”  “If your children ask you for bread, do you give them a stone?  If they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake?  You may be rotten parents, but you at least get this much right.  And God is so much a better parent than you!”  “Trust in him, and act like you know he is in charge!”  But they continue talking about God as a petty tyrant and judge, stingy with blessing and fixated on purity and boundaries, and acting as if they doubt that God’s kingdom will ever come.   And Jesus continues to shock them with his unexpected acts and words because he doesn’t.

In today’s Gospel reading, it is Jesus’ turn to be wowed, to be surprised.   

Luke says a Roman centurion has a slave “who was dear to him, and who was ill and close to death.”   It is almost as if he said, “A Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant.” Centurions were the business end of the Roman Imperium. They made the Roman Army work: training, discipline, loyalty, chain of command, logistics, and fighting skills.  They were terse, powerful men of action.  Order and discipline ruled their lives.  They and their soldiers were forbidden by law to marry while in active service.  As a result, brothels teemed near their encampments, and did the practice of men turning to other men.  The Romans had at first resisted what they called “Greek love” as effeminate and undermining of old Republican virtues, but by the time of the Empire, it was common enough to be the subject of banter and jokes. 

So a centurion sending Jewish intermediaries to Jesus is a striking image.  This officer has been doing a good job of fostering local goodwill toward the empire, part of an effective rural pacification strategy.  Though a Gentile, he has built the local Synagogue.   He leans on its leaders, in his debt, to convince Jesus to heal the servant.  They hurry to say what a great guy he is, and how Jesus should help him. 

Jesus goes with them, but before he gets to the house, the centurion sends the message: “Sir, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.”  A centurion indeed:  “sir” and a short, terse message from a man of action and not of words. 

“I’m not worthy.”  What is it that the he has in mind?   He is a gentile, and a military man.  That means he makes pagan oaths and has blood on his hands.   There may also be a hint at the reason in the phrase found in Matthew’s version of this story, “Sir, my boy is lying paralyzed at home, in distress.” The Greek word for boy, pais, can mean a younger house servant or slave, and even a son as the story appears in John.  But in pagan Greek and Roman literature, it often describes a younger male pair-bonded with an older man.  If this is what it originally meant here, the centurion knows how profoundly troubling such an arrangement is to devout Jews, and thus his unease at having Jesus enter his home.

Whatever is meant by “I’m not worthy,” the centurion adds, “You mustn’t come under my roof.  But only speak the word, and he will be healed.”

These words are a profound expression of humility.  They have been taken up in the  Roman tradition as a kind of Prayer of Humble Access for the people before taking Holy Communion:  “Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only speak the word and my soul shall be healed.” 

He then explains, as a good gunnery-sergeant:  “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.”

This bit of logic is what amazes Jesus, what wows him.  He turns to the crowd and says, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” 

The crowds and disciples throughout the gospels have a hard time hearing Jesus’ teaching that God is at work in the world about them, that the reign of God is already here where we least expect it, and that we must act as if we trust God’s love.   Jesus’ coreligionists, who ought to understand, fail to see this basic truth: God is at work in the world about us and we must act in accordance with this truth.  We must be generous.  We must not fear.  We must have confidence that in the end, all will be right.   Jesus’ followers and countrymen don’t get this. 

But this “unclean” gentile, this man of blood, this “unworthy” keeper of a slave boy, he understands.  He gets it.  And he acts on his understanding.

And so it is Jesus’ turn to be wowed. Jesus has come to expect that people won’t understand, just won’t recognize the Kingdom breaking out in front of them.   And yet here, where Jesus least expects, God has reached out and this improbable gentile soldier has recognized it. 

The centurion has a simple faith, one based in his own experience.  “I may be unworthy, but you, Jesus can help me.  God working grace in this world has to be at least as efficient as the Empire working its control.  A commander doesn’t have to be present for his orders to be carried out.  You don’t need to come into my house in order to heal my boy.”

So Jesus gives the centurion what he asks for: he heals the man’s servant without going in.   “I haven’t seen such faith among my own people.”  He says the same thing in the story with the Syro-Phoenician or Canaanite woman:  she says, please heal my daughter, let us little dogs under the table at least eat some of the crumbs that fall, and he replies, “Wow.  You amaze me.  I haven’t seen such faith even among my own people!”   And he heals the girl. 

We are a sorry lot, constantly doubting, and failing to see God at work about us.  When we don’t get exactly what we ask for in our prayers, in our heart of hearts we wonder if anyone is out there listening.  Or we start thinking that maybe God has judged us unworthy of blessing.   We forget that Jesus welcomed and served drunks, traitors, and whores, casting out their illness and demons.  He blessed them because of their need, not because of their worthiness.   We begin to think that maybe God has sneaked us a snake when we asked for a fish, or a stone instead of bread.  We begin to think that God sends rain and sunshine only to the righteous, not us.  

Sisters and brothers at Trinity—we need to wow Jesus, just as the centurion did, just as that woman did.  We need to trust God’s goodness regardless of the bad stuff life throws at us.  We need to have confidence in God’s care. We need to see God’s hand at work even now in our lives, in the world about us. 

Let’s surprise Jesus.  And let’s surprise ourselves.    

In the name of Christ,  Amen.