Luke 7:16-17
We live in an instant world where someone in Singapore comments on something – anything – and someone else in Nigeria or Niagara Falls has a response in just seconds. This morning I posted a message on Facebook and thirty seconds later, a friend in Argentina had already responded. Amazing.
Two thousand years ago, news also traveled “fast”. But it was all word of mouth and so distance was a bit limiting. We sometimes mistakenly think that within a generation of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the news of his life and mission had spread throughout the known world. This is simply not true. It had certainly spread to the major cities in the Roman Empire and even to population centers beyond. But even now 20 centuries later and with all our modern technology, the news of Jesus still has not penetrated to every remote corner of the planet.
And yet, within the technological confines of First Century Palestine – meaning word-of-mouth and on foot – news of what Jesus did spread rapid-fire, “viral” as we moderns say. Take as case in point the story of Jesus raising to life the only son of a widow in Nain.
Luke writes that those who observed the event were “all filled with awe and praised God.” The “awe” part is not surprising in the least. Visit your local shopping mall this afternoon, see a young man drop over dead – say he’s shot in the heart and head so that you really know he is dead even if you aren’t able to check his pulse. Then all of a sudden someone else walks up and tells the man to live and, presto, the guy with a hole in his heart and head is healed – he stops bleeding, starts breathing again, walks away and talks a blue streak as if nothing ever happened.
The crowd in the mall would go ballistic just as the crowd at the gate in Nain did on that day Jesus brought the widow’s son back to life. “Awe” would be an understatement in either setting.
What about the part of praising God? Not surprising either. First, everyone that was present was likely Jewish, thus believers in Abraham’s God. Even any Roman soldiers present would have been religious enough in their paganism that they would have willingly acclaimed a local god (which happened to be Yahweh), just as the Centurion did at the foot of Jesus’ cross. That would be the case for many modern observers as well, even the majority of those who claim to be nonreligious. No brainer there.
The people turned their attention from the brought-back-to-life son to God and finally to the miracle worker himself, Jesus. They called him a great prophet, a safe bet in a religiously devout land like Galilee. And they recognized in this prophet’s miracle-working activity a sign that God was present to “help His people.”
People talk about anything exciting. Whether it is via the primitive technology (word-of-mouth and on-foot) of the First Century or email, Facebook, Twitter, texting, cell phones or a zillion other devices of the 21st Century, word gets out everywhere. In that day and age the news got as far as Judea to the south and “the surrounding country.” It might have taken longer back then, but noteworthy (and not so worthy) news gets out.
Beyond mere observation of what took place, what is the point of Luke’s recording this information? The gospel writer was showing how news of Jesus’ actions was spreading far and wide. I think about this and also note that actions do speak louder – and faster – than words. Long before people knew what Jesus stood for they knew what he had done. And in fact they often could point to nothing about the truth of Jesus except that he had come to bless – to do good. For people then and now that is a very good place to start in revealing the truth about Jesus. He came to bring life.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
His Mother’s Son
Luke 7:11-15
You wonder why specific stories, of all the stories that must have happened, make it into the Bible. John’s gospel implies that a whole lot more could have been written about what Jesus said and did. So when I look at a particular story, I like to ask, “Why this one?”
These are not stories just for entertainment. These are teaching stories, stories to tell us something specific about God and God’s messenger/son, Jesus, and to call us to responsive action.
No controversy with feisty adversaries or confrontations with conflicted disciples here. No impeding cultural or sin problems with the “helpee”. In fact, the “helpee” is dead. Literally and completely. No whys or wherefores. No previous connections with Jesus, as Lazarus had.
Just a dead son and his mother, a widow, from a nondescript town called Nain not far from nondescript Nazareth where Jesus grew up.
Study Bibles can get in the way. Personally I don’t like them because I tend to read into the Bible text what someone else is thinking (kind of like what you are tempted to do by what I write here ). So I note in my own non-study Bible the reference to stories in I Kings 17 and II Kings 4. In these Old Testament passages, Elijah and Elisha raise to life the dead sons of widows. My Bible also references Mark 5 where Jesus raises Jairus’ daughter back to life and John 11 where Lazarus is resurrected.
So I am distracted for a moment. What do all these other stories have to do with this one? I can think of nothing other than they all have to do with offspring or siblings being brought back to life. Then I think that maybe this story stands on its own. None of the other gospels mention it. It happens shortly after the Centurion’s servant is healed and before John’s disciples come to Jesus with a question from the imprisoned and discouraged John. But this story comes on its own.
Right here in this little hamlet and now in this funeral procession, Jesus bumps into this grieving widow. I am struck by the scene. They are at the narrow and crowded town gate. Jesus, accompanied by a large crowd, is going in. The widow, also accompanied by a large crowd, is going out. I understand the crowd scene – I have been in many an Asian intersection myself. Everyone is moving ahead with his or her own agenda and not even noticing those coming in the opposite direction.
For Jesus, crowds are nothing new. But at this moment, as these two groups flow through each other just outside the gate, Jesus meets the woman and the stretcher carrying her dead son. He has not been dead long – in such primitive settings, the dead were buried right away – but he is definitely dead. And the woman, as any mother with an only son would do, is grieving. She has not just lost a relationship, she has lost her provider and livelihood, her identity in society. She is now economically and socially destitute.
I wonder how many times Jesus passed by a funeral procession. These days you rarely see them, it seems. But in those days, death was common and in-your-face. This particular procession struck at the heart of Jesus. He did not raise back to life every dead person he met, but something was unique here. He was, after all, his Father’s only son.
God, the Bible says, has a special love for widows, orphans and aliens – the displaced and misfit people in our world. And no one was more displaced in those days than a widow whose only son was dead.
In this moment, Jesus first comforts the woman – “Don’t cry” – then commands the dead son to get up. The first order is a kind, gentle one. Jesus is not put off by her crying – he is deeply touched by it and is announcing to her that her tears, though understandable, are no longer needed. The second order is also a kind, gentle one. He doesn’t need to shout to be heard by the dead. He simply speaks and the man comes back to life.
Two things of note then happen. First, as soon as the son returns to life he sits up and starts talking. He is back all the way, right where he left off. Second, Jesus makes the point of giving him back to his mother. He has returned this son to life, simply because his mother still needs him. And this point is not lost on the observers, nor, I dare say, the son himself. He is resurrected for a purpose not of his own.
You wonder why specific stories, of all the stories that must have happened, make it into the Bible. John’s gospel implies that a whole lot more could have been written about what Jesus said and did. So when I look at a particular story, I like to ask, “Why this one?”
These are not stories just for entertainment. These are teaching stories, stories to tell us something specific about God and God’s messenger/son, Jesus, and to call us to responsive action.
No controversy with feisty adversaries or confrontations with conflicted disciples here. No impeding cultural or sin problems with the “helpee”. In fact, the “helpee” is dead. Literally and completely. No whys or wherefores. No previous connections with Jesus, as Lazarus had.
Just a dead son and his mother, a widow, from a nondescript town called Nain not far from nondescript Nazareth where Jesus grew up.
Study Bibles can get in the way. Personally I don’t like them because I tend to read into the Bible text what someone else is thinking (kind of like what you are tempted to do by what I write here ). So I note in my own non-study Bible the reference to stories in I Kings 17 and II Kings 4. In these Old Testament passages, Elijah and Elisha raise to life the dead sons of widows. My Bible also references Mark 5 where Jesus raises Jairus’ daughter back to life and John 11 where Lazarus is resurrected.
So I am distracted for a moment. What do all these other stories have to do with this one? I can think of nothing other than they all have to do with offspring or siblings being brought back to life. Then I think that maybe this story stands on its own. None of the other gospels mention it. It happens shortly after the Centurion’s servant is healed and before John’s disciples come to Jesus with a question from the imprisoned and discouraged John. But this story comes on its own.
Right here in this little hamlet and now in this funeral procession, Jesus bumps into this grieving widow. I am struck by the scene. They are at the narrow and crowded town gate. Jesus, accompanied by a large crowd, is going in. The widow, also accompanied by a large crowd, is going out. I understand the crowd scene – I have been in many an Asian intersection myself. Everyone is moving ahead with his or her own agenda and not even noticing those coming in the opposite direction.
For Jesus, crowds are nothing new. But at this moment, as these two groups flow through each other just outside the gate, Jesus meets the woman and the stretcher carrying her dead son. He has not been dead long – in such primitive settings, the dead were buried right away – but he is definitely dead. And the woman, as any mother with an only son would do, is grieving. She has not just lost a relationship, she has lost her provider and livelihood, her identity in society. She is now economically and socially destitute.
I wonder how many times Jesus passed by a funeral procession. These days you rarely see them, it seems. But in those days, death was common and in-your-face. This particular procession struck at the heart of Jesus. He did not raise back to life every dead person he met, but something was unique here. He was, after all, his Father’s only son.
God, the Bible says, has a special love for widows, orphans and aliens – the displaced and misfit people in our world. And no one was more displaced in those days than a widow whose only son was dead.
In this moment, Jesus first comforts the woman – “Don’t cry” – then commands the dead son to get up. The first order is a kind, gentle one. Jesus is not put off by her crying – he is deeply touched by it and is announcing to her that her tears, though understandable, are no longer needed. The second order is also a kind, gentle one. He doesn’t need to shout to be heard by the dead. He simply speaks and the man comes back to life.
Two things of note then happen. First, as soon as the son returns to life he sits up and starts talking. He is back all the way, right where he left off. Second, Jesus makes the point of giving him back to his mother. He has returned this son to life, simply because his mother still needs him. And this point is not lost on the observers, nor, I dare say, the son himself. He is resurrected for a purpose not of his own.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Man of Faith
Luke 7:1-10
Can a Roman soldier, who in order to hold that post, had to worship the image of Caesar, can this man actually be called a man of faith? Here is this pagan Roman Centurion, the one I referred to last time as a man of peace. He is sending word to Jesus through the town’s Jewish leaders that his servant is sick and on the verge of death. When Jesus nears his house, he sends other friends to tell Jesus not to bother to come to his house.
The Centurion is not being rude to Jesus, refusing to host this rabbi at his house. Rather he is being polite, not wanting to bother this great teacher, for he senses that Jesus is a man of unusual authority who does not need to come on location to command the sickness to leave his servant. And he may also sense, though the text does not say it, that the rabbi may not wish to defile himself by entering a pagan’s house. If so, what is in evidence is cultural politeness rather than overt humility, though that cultural deference is a true form of humility.
Jesus immediately recognizes in the Centurion a man of outstanding faith. The Centurion is a commanding officer. He understands what it is to order that things be done without having to go and do it himself. So it is not surprising that the Centurion would think in such ordering terms.
But it is very surprising – and rarely found even in circles known for faith – that this pagan should think that Jesus could order death and disease the same way he orders around his human soldiers and local citizens. The Roman recognizes in Jesus a man of great authority over the unseen realms in ways that he himself has authority over people. The Roman is using his own cultural context (the army) to envision what happens in the spiritual world. This is what is called faith – what is it that the Apostle Paul later says? – the evidence or visualization of things unseen.
So without getting near the servant, without even seeing him or his master, Jesus heals the dying man. Matthew’s parallel version of this story has Jesus talking directly to the Centurion. Or so it might seem. But it is just as likely that Matthew can be leaving out the roles of the mediators to streamline the story – as I sometimes tell my kids, “Just get to the point.”
And the point is that the Centurion is a man of amazing faith. Now such faith in and of itself would be remarkable. What puts this faith over the top is that the man of faith in question is not a follower of Yahweh, the God of the Jews and the Bible. This man is a Roman and an officer in the Imperial Army, who is sworn in pagan ritual to Caesar himself. And yet of this very man, Jesus says, “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
Some people make distinctions between different kinds of faith here – such as saving faith or healing faith or some other faith. But Jesus makes no such distinction. Does this make this man a believer? Well, he is a man who believes that Jesus has the power to heal his servant without getting near him. One who believes is a believer. Whatever his personal views on the God of the Jews, he recognizes in Jesus something very special that even most of the Jewish believers themselves miss altogether.
I am struck by how often we criticize or judge the faith of others. I do it myself. But Jesus evaluates faith purely on the faith itself. And in this man, Jesus sees a faith unparalleled.
What a statement Luke makes here in this passage, that Jesus was amazed at the Centurion’s faith! It is very hard for us to think of Jesus other than as this placid figure who is beyond human emotion. And yet, here is Jesus being amazed. How does Luke know Jesus was amazed? Luke wasn’t even an eyewitness. He was obviously getting the story from others – we won’t go into all that here, but it was in all likelihood a diversity of sources. And yet, what came through all those sources to Luke was that Jesus was to eyewitnesses noticeably amazed by this Centurion’s faith.
This faith was amazing because the Roman did not need some kind of physical connection between the healer and the sick person. The faith was also amazing because he recognized in this itinerant rabbi known as Jesus a man of great authority, authority even over disease and death. This faith was furthermore amazing because this man of faith was not a Jewish believer.
We make all kinds of distinctions about who can have faith. In the end, the one who can have faith is the one who acts upon the faith they do have.
Can a Roman soldier, who in order to hold that post, had to worship the image of Caesar, can this man actually be called a man of faith? Here is this pagan Roman Centurion, the one I referred to last time as a man of peace. He is sending word to Jesus through the town’s Jewish leaders that his servant is sick and on the verge of death. When Jesus nears his house, he sends other friends to tell Jesus not to bother to come to his house.
The Centurion is not being rude to Jesus, refusing to host this rabbi at his house. Rather he is being polite, not wanting to bother this great teacher, for he senses that Jesus is a man of unusual authority who does not need to come on location to command the sickness to leave his servant. And he may also sense, though the text does not say it, that the rabbi may not wish to defile himself by entering a pagan’s house. If so, what is in evidence is cultural politeness rather than overt humility, though that cultural deference is a true form of humility.
Jesus immediately recognizes in the Centurion a man of outstanding faith. The Centurion is a commanding officer. He understands what it is to order that things be done without having to go and do it himself. So it is not surprising that the Centurion would think in such ordering terms.
But it is very surprising – and rarely found even in circles known for faith – that this pagan should think that Jesus could order death and disease the same way he orders around his human soldiers and local citizens. The Roman recognizes in Jesus a man of great authority over the unseen realms in ways that he himself has authority over people. The Roman is using his own cultural context (the army) to envision what happens in the spiritual world. This is what is called faith – what is it that the Apostle Paul later says? – the evidence or visualization of things unseen.
So without getting near the servant, without even seeing him or his master, Jesus heals the dying man. Matthew’s parallel version of this story has Jesus talking directly to the Centurion. Or so it might seem. But it is just as likely that Matthew can be leaving out the roles of the mediators to streamline the story – as I sometimes tell my kids, “Just get to the point.”
And the point is that the Centurion is a man of amazing faith. Now such faith in and of itself would be remarkable. What puts this faith over the top is that the man of faith in question is not a follower of Yahweh, the God of the Jews and the Bible. This man is a Roman and an officer in the Imperial Army, who is sworn in pagan ritual to Caesar himself. And yet of this very man, Jesus says, “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
Some people make distinctions between different kinds of faith here – such as saving faith or healing faith or some other faith. But Jesus makes no such distinction. Does this make this man a believer? Well, he is a man who believes that Jesus has the power to heal his servant without getting near him. One who believes is a believer. Whatever his personal views on the God of the Jews, he recognizes in Jesus something very special that even most of the Jewish believers themselves miss altogether.
I am struck by how often we criticize or judge the faith of others. I do it myself. But Jesus evaluates faith purely on the faith itself. And in this man, Jesus sees a faith unparalleled.
What a statement Luke makes here in this passage, that Jesus was amazed at the Centurion’s faith! It is very hard for us to think of Jesus other than as this placid figure who is beyond human emotion. And yet, here is Jesus being amazed. How does Luke know Jesus was amazed? Luke wasn’t even an eyewitness. He was obviously getting the story from others – we won’t go into all that here, but it was in all likelihood a diversity of sources. And yet, what came through all those sources to Luke was that Jesus was to eyewitnesses noticeably amazed by this Centurion’s faith.
This faith was amazing because the Roman did not need some kind of physical connection between the healer and the sick person. The faith was also amazing because he recognized in this itinerant rabbi known as Jesus a man of great authority, authority even over disease and death. This faith was furthermore amazing because this man of faith was not a Jewish believer.
We make all kinds of distinctions about who can have faith. In the end, the one who can have faith is the one who acts upon the faith they do have.
Monday, October 5, 2009
A Man of Peace
Luke 7:1-10
Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus talks about finding a person of peace, someone who will assist in the work of the Good News, whether or not he or she actually is a believer. In the story that follows the conclusion of the “Sermon on the Level Place”, we find just such a person.
Jesus walks from the countryside into Capernaum, this city on the Lake of Galilee that is becoming his base. Capernaum is also a base for the Roman Army and a certain Centurion (a captain of one hundred Roman soldiers). Luke never gives us the name of this man and, regardless of the speculations of novelists and Hollywood filmmakers, we probably never meet up with him again in the New Testament.
The Centurion is a valued civic figure among the Jewish leaders in Capernaum, a surprising thing given the animosity between the Jews and their captors. This particular Roman official is unusual in that he has worked hard to bridge the divide between the Roman army and the restless natives.
The story is that the Centurion’s servant is sick, on the verge of death. Even what we think of today as simple fevers could turn deadly in that ancient world of proto-medical care. Sickness and death were far too common.
The Centurion was particularly fond of this servant. Sometimes we make too big a distinction between slavery in the ancient world and more modern slavery as found in the USA in earlier days. Fact is, the ancient world was no more humane than our modern, more enlightened world has been, and generally even less so. There may be forms of slavery in human history that can be considered more civilized than others, but human bondage, whatever form it takes, is a fruit of the Curse. Even so, the Centurion really did care for this servant and did not want to lose him.
What is even more striking in this unusual story is how warm the Jewish leaders were toward the Centurion. Roman soldiers were as despised in Galilee as any conquerors are anywhere and time in human history. Given the religious devotion of the Jews to Yahweh and the impersonal cruelty of the invading army, the normal tension between the two groups is not surprising.
But in this specific case, all that mutual hatred is far from evident. In fact, the Jewish leaders who come to Jesus speak ever so fondly of this Centurion. “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” Here was a man both magnanimous and kindhearted. There were some syncretistic tendencies among the Galilean Jewish leaders of the day (witness the Herodian family who ruled Galilee and the sect known as the Saducees). But these tendencies cannot account for the warm and strong relationship between this Centurion and these synagogue leaders.
Was the Centurion a God-fearer, as Luke speaks of his second book, The Acts of the Apostles? Not necessarily. While this Roman may not have come to believe in the God of Israel himself, he certainly had a respect for the people over whom he ruled as well as their faith. So much so that he was not afraid to come directly to Jesus, or at least send his Jewish friends to Jesus with a request for Jesus to heal this dying servant.
In this Centurion, we see two highly desirable qualities. He was both a man of peace and a man of faith. We’ll talk more of the faith aspect next time. For now, it is important to see the significance in this man of peace.
In our very religiously and politically polarized society, we should note how quickly Jesus recognizes something of value in those whom others around him deemed to be enemies. Jesus immediately notes that the Centurion, far from being the enemy, is a man of peace – a man who offers a bridge, a connection with those who follow Yahweh, and ultimately a bridge with Jesus, the Jews’ Messiah, himself.
Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus talks about finding a person of peace, someone who will assist in the work of the Good News, whether or not he or she actually is a believer. In the story that follows the conclusion of the “Sermon on the Level Place”, we find just such a person.
Jesus walks from the countryside into Capernaum, this city on the Lake of Galilee that is becoming his base. Capernaum is also a base for the Roman Army and a certain Centurion (a captain of one hundred Roman soldiers). Luke never gives us the name of this man and, regardless of the speculations of novelists and Hollywood filmmakers, we probably never meet up with him again in the New Testament.
The Centurion is a valued civic figure among the Jewish leaders in Capernaum, a surprising thing given the animosity between the Jews and their captors. This particular Roman official is unusual in that he has worked hard to bridge the divide between the Roman army and the restless natives.
The story is that the Centurion’s servant is sick, on the verge of death. Even what we think of today as simple fevers could turn deadly in that ancient world of proto-medical care. Sickness and death were far too common.
The Centurion was particularly fond of this servant. Sometimes we make too big a distinction between slavery in the ancient world and more modern slavery as found in the USA in earlier days. Fact is, the ancient world was no more humane than our modern, more enlightened world has been, and generally even less so. There may be forms of slavery in human history that can be considered more civilized than others, but human bondage, whatever form it takes, is a fruit of the Curse. Even so, the Centurion really did care for this servant and did not want to lose him.
What is even more striking in this unusual story is how warm the Jewish leaders were toward the Centurion. Roman soldiers were as despised in Galilee as any conquerors are anywhere and time in human history. Given the religious devotion of the Jews to Yahweh and the impersonal cruelty of the invading army, the normal tension between the two groups is not surprising.
But in this specific case, all that mutual hatred is far from evident. In fact, the Jewish leaders who come to Jesus speak ever so fondly of this Centurion. “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” Here was a man both magnanimous and kindhearted. There were some syncretistic tendencies among the Galilean Jewish leaders of the day (witness the Herodian family who ruled Galilee and the sect known as the Saducees). But these tendencies cannot account for the warm and strong relationship between this Centurion and these synagogue leaders.
Was the Centurion a God-fearer, as Luke speaks of his second book, The Acts of the Apostles? Not necessarily. While this Roman may not have come to believe in the God of Israel himself, he certainly had a respect for the people over whom he ruled as well as their faith. So much so that he was not afraid to come directly to Jesus, or at least send his Jewish friends to Jesus with a request for Jesus to heal this dying servant.
In this Centurion, we see two highly desirable qualities. He was both a man of peace and a man of faith. We’ll talk more of the faith aspect next time. For now, it is important to see the significance in this man of peace.
In our very religiously and politically polarized society, we should note how quickly Jesus recognizes something of value in those whom others around him deemed to be enemies. Jesus immediately notes that the Centurion, far from being the enemy, is a man of peace – a man who offers a bridge, a connection with those who follow Yahweh, and ultimately a bridge with Jesus, the Jews’ Messiah, himself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)