The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me.
I concelebrated at a Marine's funeral last spring and was invited by the pastor to read this gospel. I applied some drama to the reading, as I supposed there was more to the centurion's reaction than he was willing to say.
He was literally terrified that Jesus might come to his home. This man who had fought and killed good men in battle, who had sent soldiers on suicidal missions, who had made stupid mistakes and suffered the loss of raw recruits in ugly combat -- could not permit this holy man to enter his home. He could not risk his soldiers seeing him quail before a civilian. The blasphemy of the Christ entering his quarters aroused unspeakable dread in the warrior's heart.
Jesus saw that. He had visited many homes and he understood the self-consciousness of his hosts. If their invitation had been routine and formal, the kind of thing prosperous people do for important guests from out of town, his actual coming -- his advent -- was overwhelming.But the centurion's reaction -- contained by a soldier's battle hardened features -- revealed something the Lord had never seen. As he said, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith."
The warrior was terrified. We call it fear of the Lord, and believe it is the beginning of wisdom. Jesus called it faith.
Afterward one of the mourners told me she had never heard the story of Jesus and the centurion read that way. She had not heard the Marine's stories of Vietnam.
As Advent comes to us, are we prepared to welcome it into our homes? Can I be comfortable in such an august presence? When the Lord smiles on me will I receive his gaze and let it penetrate the dark places of guilt, shame, and dread? Am I ready to let them appear in the light where other guests see them? What would it take for me to be ready?
Not many Veterans of American wars tell stories of Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq; and most would rather not. Nothing had prepared these young people for what they did, saw, and suffered. Many carried deep spiritual wounds from their upbringing in violent households even before they enlisted, and their traumas were only amplified.
They are us. We don't like to be known too well. We don't want to be reminded.
Christmas takes the willing and the unwilling back in time to places of joy and contentment; and to places of sorrow, regret, grief, and broken promises. Christmas recapitulates a life for those who welcome his coming. It assures the willing of salvation.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.