The holy gospel according to Luke (7:1-17)
After
Jesus had finished all his sayings in the hearing of the people,
he
entered Capernaum.
2A
centurion there had a slave whom he valued highly,
and
who was ill and close to death.
3When
the centurion heard about Jesus,
he
sent some Jewish elders to him,
asking
him to come and heal his slave.
4When
they came to Jesus,
they
appealed to him earnestly, saying,
“The centurion is worthy of
having you do this for him,
5for
he loves our people,
and
it is he who built our synagogue for us.”
6And
Jesus went with them,
but
when he was not far from the house,
the
centurion sent friends to say to him,
“Lord,
do not trouble yourself,
for
I am not worthy to have you come
under my roof;
7therefore
I did not presume to come to you.
But
only speak the word,
and
let my servant be healed.
8For
I also am a person 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.”
9When
Jesus heard this he was amazed at the centurion,
and
turning to the crowd that followed him, he said,
“I
tell you, not even in Israel have I
found such faith.”
10When
those who had been sent returned to the house,
they
found the slave in good health.
11Soon
afterwards Jesus went to a town called Nain,
and
his disciples and a large crowd went with him.
12As
Jesus approached the gate of the town,
a
man who had died was being carried out.
He was his mother’s only son,
and
she was a widow;
and
with her was a large crowd from the
town.
13When
the Lord saw her,
he
had compassion for her and said to her,
“Do
not weep.”
14Then
Jesus came forward and touched the bier,
and the bearers stood still. And he
said,
“Young
man, I say to you, rise!”
15The
dead man sat up and began to speak,
and
Jesus gave him to his mother.
16Fear
seized all of them;
and
they glorified God, saying,
“A
great prophet has risen among us!”
and
“God has looked favorably on the chosen people!”
17This
word about him spread throughout Judea
and
all the surrounding country.
The gospel of the lord.
-----
Clean or unclean?
It seems to be the game Jesus is playing in today’s gospel reading. For Jews like Jesus, much of life and
many of the rules around religion and faith center on what is ritually clean
and what isn’t, with the goal of avoiding anything unclean because even the
slightest contact would also make you unclean.
So, in today’s gospel reading, Jesus is faced with the
battle between clean and unclean. First
a visit to the centurion—a gentile—unclean. But he doesn’t even go in—clean. Then on to Nain.
A
funeral
procession. A
bier, carrying a dead man—unclean.
But then the man rises and speaks, clearly alive and not dead—clean. Which will it be for Jesus? Clean or unclean? Is that even what his healing is really
about? Do those categories even
matter to him? Or just to the rest
of us?
As we enter into Capernaum with Jesus, a centurion, one of
Rome’s military enforcers, sends a request to Jesus. This centurion, we learn, is different from the rest. Instead of enforcing the pax romana, a Roman peace by threat of
or actual violence, like many other Roman centurions, this one is pacifying and
supporting the local Jewish community.
He has built a synagogue for them.
He knows that his job of keeping the community under control will be
much easier if they are happy with him than it will be if he is the violent enforcer.
And it works.
The Jewish elders know their alternatives and appreciate him, so they come
to Jesus with the request for healing. Like many faithful people even today, they do their best to
impress upon Jesus precisely why this centurion, even though he is a gentile
and therefore unclean, is particularly deserving of healing. He’s one of the good ones! He’s hard working and built the
synagogue! He’s not lazy or a “free
loader.” He’s not violent! Really, he deserves it! He’s earned it!
Jesus doesn’t even bat an eye: someone needs healing? He’s coming, even if this centurion is
a gentile who will make him unclean, after all earlier in Luke, Simeon, who
blesses the baby Jesus in the Temple, proclaims God’s work through Jesus as “a
light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”
Jesus’ mission in Luke has never been just for his own
people. It’s always been bigger
than that and this centurion, gentile and outsider though he is, remains a part
of God’s plan through Jesus. Even
if the centurion’s practices don’t align with Jewish teachings. Even if he is not circumcised. Even if he is a Roman soldier, Jesus will
be there—unclean.
Then the centurion gets to thinking and decides to send some
friends, likely knowing enough about Judaism to know that if Jesus comes to his
home, he will be considered ritually unclean. And maybe the centurion is having second thoughts about
having this Jesus character come to his house to begin with. Can the centurion handle it? What else might Jesus do or ask if he
comes in?
The centurion’s desperation and desire for healing for this
“slave whom he valued highly” is clear, and yet there is a part of him that,
despite Jesus’ willingness to show up and join him, may never quite feel worthy
enough.
As a military man, he is under the commands of his
country. His job is keeping order,
enforcing Roman rule, by any means necessary. It is not his to question the orders he’s given, just to
follow them. And yet, he is the one who is forced to live
with those actions. He is the one
left to wonder about the place of justice and love and mercy.
Like many of our own veterans who return home from war and
often wrestle alone with the orders they carried out overseas, this centurion
is the one left to wonder if there is another, more peaceful way. He is the one to try this new way of
keeping the peace.
This work for another way of peace is evident as he engages
with the Jewish community of Capernaum, supporting their religious expression,
keeping the peace through appeasement rather than force. In wrestling with the
things he’s had to do in his service in the Roman military, he has chosen a new
way forward. He did what he did in
his past because he had to, or at least that’s how it seemed at the time, but
can he ever make up for it? Are
his gods keeping track? Will they
forgive him? Will he forgive
himself? Can he ever make things
right? Will he ever be good enough?
Does anyone else know about his past? Or what about the complexity of his
current life situation? Is he
living well enough? Is he doing enough
good? Is he enforcing enough
rules? Is he enforcing too
many?
Something is going on in the centurion, to make him feel isolated,
unworthy, unclean. Despite the
Jewish elders’ assurances that he is worthy, he still doesn’t feel good
enough. After all, could anyone
really understand all that makes up his past? Could anyone really know him and still think he’s worthy of
Jesus’ attention?
And so the centurion stops Jesus on his way and insists he
is not worthy, insists that Jesus doesn’t need to risk becoming unclean. Jesus’ power and healing is possible
without the centurion risking Jesus’ arrival to declare him not good
enough. Yet Jesus knows. Jesus knows the world and the
complexities of military service. Jesus
knows that rarely is anything a clear good or bad and Jesus knows this
centurion. So, without even
entering his “unclean” home, Jesus brings healing—clean.
Having brought healing of the highly valued slave, and,
perhaps healing of a deeper kind for a centurion who, despite his power and
prestige, never felt worthy, Jesus and the crew head along their way to Nain
where a widow is burying her only son.
Her only hope for economic stability in that society is being carried right
out of town.
Approaching the gate, the edge of town, the two crowds
converge: Jesus “and his disciples and a large crowd” coming in and the widow “and
with her was a large crowd from the
town” going out.
As they encounter each other, Jesus, we learn, “had
compassion for her.” Not just any
compassion, however. The Greek
word is deeper than the English translation lets on. Jesus doesn’t simply have compassion, he is moved at a gut level—this deep,
gut-wrenching compassion. Jesus is
hurting as this woman is hurting, hurting for her and with her.
In the depths of hurt at losing her only son, the despair of
not only the loss of a child, but also the loss of any chance at economic
stability, Jesus almost cannot help himself. He interrupts the funeral
procession, his crowd of followers clashing with hers, Jesus reaches out, and
touches the bier!
The whole scene freezes as a collective gasp runs through
both crowds, and almost as a whisper, the escaping realization:
unclean!
Into the stunned silence, Jesus commands, “Young man, I say
to you, rise!” And “The dead man sat up and began to
speak”—clean.
This woman is restored to life just as her son is. This woman, whose worth disappeared
with her son’s life, whose power existed through the men she was related to,
the men who were dead and gone.
This woman, who couldn’t feel worthy of anything, is claimed by Jesus. Jesus sees her in the depths of their
souls. Jesus comes to her, joining
her in her grief, pain, and despair, and Jesus does not leave her there. Jesus calls her worthy.
Jesus encounters both of these people, surrounded by their
different communities and yet one alone in her grief and the other in his insecurity—one
with no power in society and the other with great power and authority. Feelings of inadequacy and despair
abound and yet Jesus engages them both, bringing comfort, healing, and
wholeness.
Jesus’ salvation comes, not in the far-off future, but right
now. From the mighty and powerful
centurion, who has all the earthly authority he could want and still feels
inadequate, to the lowly widow, whose power is only as much as her male
offspring, being carried to his burial.
Jesus interrupts their tragic trajectories, bringing healing and
wholeness right now.
Jesus’ body, whole and yet about to be broken apart, breaks
into feelings of inadequacy and powerlessness, Jesus enters into our regrets
and heartbreak. Jesus interrupts
all our wishes of how we could live or who we could have been with
the love and power that only the Holy Spirit can bring. In the midst of clean and unclean,
Jesus brings a new way, a new chance, a deeper knowing.
As crowds come together, as the pain, alienation, and insecurity
bubble to the surface, Jesus says to each one here:
“You,
beloved child of God,
I
know your pain.
I
know your heartache.
I
know your regret and your sorrow.
I
know the ways you think you are not good enough
or
have messed up beyond hope.
I
know the messages you hear every day.
I
know you.
You
are loved by God.
Today.
Just
as you are.”
Jesus
declares,
“Child
of God,
I
say to you, rise!“