Second Sunday after Pentecost (4C), June 2, 2013; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Galatians 1:1-12: “…not that there is another Gospel….”
Luke 7:1-10: “Lord…I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.”
O God love, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.
You look so good and I am so glad to be back. I’ve missed you! I’m looking forward to hearing what you’ve been up to. As if to welcome me home, our lectionary this morning includes a Gospel verse that is used as the stepping off point in the prayer an Episcopal priest says when she becomes a rector of a parish. After three months away, I am eager to renew my commitment to be your rector, and this prayer has been on my heart for the last couple of weeks.
This prayer is a request to the Divine for help right in the middle of an installation service, and it is customarily said with the priest placed right in the middle of the congregation. I’m going to read it from the pulpit so you can all hear it. Note that, because Episcopalians are so wordy, it includes a job description in great detail. We are not just wordy, we are also quite specific in our prayers about what it is we want God to do for us and what we hope to do as well.
“O Lord my God, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; yet you have called your servant to stand in your house, and to serve at your altar. To you and to your service I devote myself, body, soul, and spirit. Fill my memory with the record of your mighty works; enlighten my understanding with the light of your Holy Spirit; and may all the desires of my heart and will center in what you would have me do. Make me an instrument of your salvation for the people entrusted to my care, and grant that I may faithfully administer your holy Sacraments, and by my life and teaching set forth your true and living Word. Be always with me in carrying out the duties of my ministry. In prayer, quicken my devotion; in praises, heighten my love and gratitude; in preaching, give me readiness of thought and expression; and grant that, by the clearness and brightness of your holy Word, all the world may be drawn into your blessed kingdom. All this I ask for the sake of your Son our Savior Jesus Christ.” (Amen)
You know, it’s not lost on me that it is the centurion – a Roman military officer — who utters these words, “I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.” It is a commanding officer who calls Jesus Lord. This story isn’t about just any old gentile; it’s about a Roman military officer who trusted in Jesus’ power to heal and from a distance. Even a Roman military officer – even a member of the occupying army!—imagined that Jesus had the power to heal.
”If a Roman officer can trust in Jesus’ power to heal, what’s your problem?” Luke seems to be asking in a rude sort of way. And notice that although the centurion says, through messengers, that he knows Jesus can say the word and his servant shall be healed, Jesus doesn’t even actually say the word in this story – he hears the word from the centurion via messengers and affirms it. It’s the centurion who speaks the Word of God from off stage. The centurion doesn’t ever appear in this scene in Luke – just his friends and associates, who report his needs to Jesus.
When the messengers went back to report Jesus’ response to the centurion, they found the slave, who had been close to death, in perfectly good health. (It might have been a moment for an Emily Litella “nevermind!”) But seriously, and unfortunately, the slave was still a slave. It didn’t seem to occur to Jesus or the centurion or the Gospel writer, that healing and freedom from slavery might be a nice pairing. But it occurs to me and I want to name it. Luke may not notice it, but I believe that we must.
There are other problems with this story. As the vestry of Emmanuel Church reflected on this passage yesterday while we were on retreat, people also noted that this story has an element of bonding one commanding officer to another, and it links following orders to faith, and presents healing as a kind of “crass payoff for faith” in Jesus. Surely this is not the good news of God in Jesus Christ. So where might the Good News of God be in this story in Luke? Here are three things to think about.
First, you might be surprised to hear me say that I think the response “I am not worthy” can be a good prayerful response to the idea of the Divine presence coming under one’s roof. And I think the more power you have at your command, the larger your sphere of influence, the greater your privilege, the better it is to remember it. It’s not an oppressed, powerless person in this story who utters the words, “Lord I am not worthy.” It’s a Roman military officer in charge of a “century” of soldiers.
A centurion was a battle-hardened successful fighter. While I don’t think any of us happens to be a military commander (at this moment anyway), I’ll bet that every one of us has some hardness, some toughness from waging and winning battles of one kind or another. It’s from that place of power or privilege that we are called to realize that our hands are not completely clean, that our hearts are not completely open; that we wish our lives were tidier before the Lord enters. “Lord, I am not worthy,” is not an ontological or existential statement of fact – it’s a humble acknowledgement of the distance we can feel between our circumstances and the Glory of God. That humble acknowledgement is good news, because in moving toward humbleness, we lean in. We move closer to hear the immediate response from the Divine, which is, “of course you are worthy. Of course you are worthy.”
Second, notice the role of the elders and the friends in this story. They are the real players. The elders and the friends are going to Jesus on behalf of the centurion, first to ask Jesus to come to heal someone who is near death, and then to communicate the centurion’s trust in the Rabbi from Nazareth’s ability to heal from a distance. You know, Biblical faith is essentially about loyalty and not about intellectual assent to theological propositions. That bears repeating: Biblical faith is essentially about loyalty and not about intellectual assent to theological propositions. Biblical faith is about trusting and being loyal to the spirit of Love. And these elders and friends are being loyal to their friend who is in trouble. And isn’t that what we are so often doing here – in this place in our prayer – speaking to God – addressing the needs of our friends and associates, entrusting them and ourselves to the power of Love. According to Luke, this healing doesn’t take place without the intercessions of the elders and the friends.
Third, I want you to notice that Jesus didn’t set any conditions or require anything from the Centurion. He didn’t say, “sell all that you have,” or “quit the Roman army because Caesar claims to be Lord and he is not.” He doesn’t say, “hey, I was sent to the House of Israel, not to the Roman Empire.” He doesn’t say, “sorry, that’s political.” He says, “wow. This kind of trust amazes me. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” An outsider is affirmed and included. Although the Gospel of Luke in general deplores slavery and Caesar, Jesus is perfectly willing to go to the home of a slave-owning employee of the Emperor at the behest of the elders, without question or condition. This is good news. It seems to me to be teaching us that whoever you are, wherever you’ve been, whatever you’ve done – Jesus is perfectly willing – even eager — to be present. So let’s not hesitate to call upon him on behalf of our associates, our friends, and even our enemies. Let’s invite him in.
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