The story of the Roman Centurion who asks Jesus to heal his slave is found both in Luke, which we hear today, and in Matthew. It is a most compelling story on many levels. Matthew’s briefer account has the man himself come to Jesus and ask. Matthew’s version is also distinct in that after Jesus professes his amazement, he prophesizes that many gentiles will enter the Kingdom before the chosen people, giving the passage a somewhat more foreboding tone than Luke’s.
Centurions in the ancient Roman Army had a long and legendary history. A Centurion was in charge of a “Century,” originally one hundred legionaries, as they were called, but by the time of Jesus that number had fallen to eighty. They were not officers but a sort of master sergeant of today’s army’s NCO ranks. Because they were not officers but from the ranks themselves, the Century under them were often completely devoted. They constituted what amounted to the police force of local precincts throughout occupied Israel, and they held absolute authority. As in every occupied state in which they held jurisdiction, they were often deeply feared as well as respected. The legendary pax Romana was kept by the ruthless iron fist of the Roman Army that brooked no opposition.
Thus, it is remarkable that Luke tells us that this Centurion was actually beloved by the Jews of his precinct and, even more remarkable it would seem, that he loved them, having built their synagogue for them. The Jewish elders of the town (Capernaum, which was the town of Peter and Jesus’ kind of headquarters) plead with Jesus to hear him. The Centurion is also asking for a beloved slave, not a family member or one of his men. Slavery in ancient Rome was quite different from its often terrible form in America’s 19th Century. A Roman slave owner was responsible in many legal ways for the care of his slaves. They often developed rather close relationships with one another.
What is to be noted here is that a supposedly fierce (and they often were and quite brutal to boot) Centurion, here becomes a man of deep compassion and care and one also loving those he is policing who love him in return. It seems so very extraordinary. What will become the most extraordinary of all is when Jesus, I suppose rightly astonished at the Centurion’s words (which we continue to repeat down the centuries before every communion at every liturgy), declares that he has never found such faith in all of Israel. One of the most remarkable statements Jesus ever made. For this Centurion was also most remarkable.
It should all say many things to us. The first may be summed up in the old saying, do not judge a book by its cover. Another is John the Baptist’s warning to the smug Pharisees in Mt 3:9, “Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” Then of course, is Jesus’ final comment on this scene found only in Matthew’s version, “I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Another is the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple (“Thank God I am not like other men”), only one of whom returned home justified. Perhaps finally we might quote Shakespear from Hamlet. “There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” John the Baptist warned us, do not presume. Do not presume anything and woe to us if we do.