“Let me talk to my guy.”
Contrary to myriads of failed
discrimination suits, these six words have been the backbone of countless back
room business deals for millennia. They’re spoken here, outside Capernaum,
where the new Centurion in town has blessed the community with a
brand-spanking-new synagogue – and possibly put the Jews at a disadvantage for
they are clearly in his debt.
A Roman Centurion, settled in quite nicely
thank you, is doing a little business with his new associates – the Jewish
elders – in an effort to take his mind off his terminally ill slave. As he
bemoans the impending loss of a bondservant he “highly values,” one of the
elders spots an opportunity to settle the score and maybe even place the
Centurion in his debt (after all, the mikveh could use a little hot water, nu?).
“I got a guy. Let me talk to him,” he says,
and so the several of them head into Capernaum in search of Jesus. Unfazed by
the crowds, the disciples and even the apostles, the elders march right up to
Jesus and demand He come with them to heal the Centurion’s slave. They are
intent on successfully completing their errand, but they are devoid of compassion
for the slave who, Luke says, is “ready to die.” In fact, we never meet the
slave, and all the actions taken here will be done without his input,
participation or consent. His life, illness, subsequent healing and eventual
death all take place far off stage. Luke, whose name indicates he may have been
a slave himself, subtly injects a little social commentary here as if to say, “Don’t
be fooled: ‘benevolent slaveholder’ is an oxymoron.”
The elders, unsurprisingly rude and
disrespectful to Jesus, insist He stop whatever it is He’s doing and accompany
them to the Centurion’s home where, they presume, He will go through all the exaggerated
motions, caterwauling and loud theatrics that accompanied first-century faith
healing. They’re not concerned with what will happen, however. They don’t care one way or the other
if the slave is healed – it’s not the point. They just want to get
out of debt with the Centurion by bringing Jesus to the slave. If the rabbi heals
him, even better! That will give them an advantage they can press (would a few
bubbles with the hot water, say, be such a kappore?).
Jesus, most certainly a bit bemused by all
the fuss, silently acquiesces and is rewarded for his participation by being
amazed – not that a Roman Centurion would have compassion on his slave, but
that someone (read: anyone) would
actually “get it” without Jesus having to say a single word.
It may seem as if the Centurion is a little
double-minded or even unstable (“come – don’t come”), but Luke gives us subtle
clues as to what’s really going on. The Jewish elders treat Jesus like any other
faith healer and demand that he come with them, but the Centurion did not ask
them to do so.
The Centurion treats Jesus with the utmost
respect and consideration. He sends the Jews as his representatives because he wants to do everything by the book so as not to sully Jesus’ reputation or make Him “unclean” via Jew/Gentile fraternization. In other words, he shows his respect for Jesus as a man in and of authority by sending appropriate
representatives to petition Him – as any ordinary citizen might petition his
king – for justice, for healing, for mercy, albeit for his slave and not for himself.
The elders, however, toss respect and
consideration out the window and throw their weight around while they insist Jesus have a look at the slave. "You need to do this – for him (and for us)!"
Meanwhile the Centurion, horrified at the miscommunication, scrambles to send his friends – fellow fish-out-of-water Romans who understand, appreciate and share his cultural dilemma – to correct the error and tell Jesus, “You need not bother yourself by coming all the way out here. I know that all you have to do is say ‘yes’ for I, too, am a man under authority.”
Meanwhile the Centurion, horrified at the miscommunication, scrambles to send his friends – fellow fish-out-of-water Romans who understand, appreciate and share his cultural dilemma – to correct the error and tell Jesus, “You need not bother yourself by coming all the way out here. I know that all you have to do is say ‘yes’ for I, too, am a man under authority.”
It’s important to note that the Centurion is
not comparing himself to Jesus here. Instead, he humbles himself by identifying
with and comparing himself to the beloved slave. Like his slave, he is a man
under authority who carries out orders and does so without needing his superior
to be present. He knows that Jesus’ authority is not bound by time, space or distance.
As a result, Jesus is amazed.
Jesus is often amazed in the Gospels, but
it’s seldom a good thing. We can almost picture Him on these occasions holding
His head in His hands, counting to ten or having to take a time out because He
is amazed at our unbelief. He can’t understand how we can know Him, how we can
experience Him and yet not trust and obey Him.
Enter the Centurion, a Gentile whose broader
perspective on the world has given him a broader mindset. A worldly man who shouldn’t be interested in an itinerant rabbi from a hick town in a backwater Roman
province. Yet, without knowing Jesus or having even met Him, with only hearing the
Law and the Prophets he “gets it.” And Jesus is amazed.
