Jesus and the Centurion

Reflection on Matthew 8:5-13

My father served in the U.S. Army during World War II as a mechanic stationed
on the island of New Caledonia. While one brother served his two obligatory
years in the Army, another of my brothers stayed in, went to Vietnam twice as a
cobra pilot, and eventually advanced to Colonel while serving in the National
Guard. As for me, I was drafted into the Army while a student, artist,
musician, “hippie” conscientious objector in 1969 during the Vietnam War. I
never served in combat as a medic, but was a musician most of my two years.
Still, I resented the military and its ethos. Relating to the military and
military personnel has not been easy for me, even though it has been part of my
family life. It’s one thing to relate to military personnel when they are part
of your family. But, how am I, as a Christian pacifist, supposed to relate to others
who are in the military?

As a Christian pacifist, I take my cues from Jesus in the
New Testament. One specific biblical text has frequently been used to answer
how we might relate to the military. But it is a text often utilized to subvert
Christian pacifism and to justify Christian participation in the military. It
is the healing story of Jesus and the centurion (Matthew 8:5-13/Luke 7:1-10). A
Roman centurion personally approaches Jesus at Capernaum with a plea to come
and heal his paralyzed servant. He humbles himself before Jesus. The centurion
confesses that he is not worthy to have Jesus enter his home. Instead, if Jesus
will simply say a word, he trusts that his servant will be healed from a
distance. The centurion understands Jesus’ power and authority. He has soldiers
and servants under him who follow his commands. Jesus is amazed at the centurion’s
trust. Jesus commends the centurion’s faith, and tells him the healing will be
done “according to his faith.”

This story is clustered together with other healing and
miracle stories. But more than simply a recollection of a physical healing by
Jesus, the story functions primarily as a narrative meant to affirm Jesus’
power and authority. It may also serve a secondary purpose for Matthew’s
audience of foreshadowing the inclusion of Gentiles into the church.

The centurion in this healing story is a Roman soldier, who
is in command of up to 100 soldiers. Two other key centurions mentioned in the
New Testament are the centurion in charge of Jesus’ crucifixion (Mark 15:39),
who makes a faith-like statement concerning Jesus, and a centurion named
Cornelius, one of the first Gentile converts (Acts 10). All three of these
soldiers are portrayed in a positive light. In general, soldiers are mentioned
throughout the New Testament simply by virtue of the fact that Rome was an
imperial force occupying the land of Palestine in the days of Jesus and the
early church. In the historical and political context of Roman economic
oppression, terrorism, suppression of rebellion, use of clients and collaborators,
the Roman military did not stand in a good light among the common people. The
Roman military was a regular reminder of their oppressive situation. Jesus’
ministry is replete with prophetic criticism of Roman client rulers, the Roman
taxation system, and the Roman-supported institutions that contributed to the
oppression of the people, and castigated some who collaborated with Rome.

That’s why the positive nature of this healing story cuts
against the grain of general social attitudes among Jews of the day and of Jesus
himself toward Rome and its military occupation.  Although the centurion in our healing story is
presented in a positive light, it is not on account of his vocation and what it
represents. The story stands in contrast to the real, everyday oppressive presence
the military symbolized to the Jewish people. One possible reason for this
positive light is the stance of the centurion in this story. It is one of
humble submission to Jesus and his power and authority. Jesus has power and authority
to command healing as the centurion commands his soldiers and servants.

This story of Jesus’ positive response to a centurion and
his lack of condemnatory statements of his vocation no more justifies Christian
engagement in the military or deflates Christian pacifism than it justifies the
oppressive power and authority of Rome or the system of slavery under which the
centurion’s servants labor. This story does not intend to comment on the
military as a potential Christian vocation. It is a story of Jesus’ power and
authority to heal, which is appropriated for a servant by a non-Jew with great
faith. The person requesting the healing just happens to be a soldier. His
faith is not commended in order to justify his vocation. His faith is a marvel,
unusual, exceptional. Faith among “those in Israel” is expected. The
centurion’s faith goes against all expectations and is thus “great.”

Jesus associates with women, Samaritans, lepers, tax
collectors, sinners, former revolutionaries, and even centurions who represent
an oppressive regime. His love does not place a stamp of approval on everything
said and done by those in his radically inclusive social circle. His power and
authority is to heal, regardless of one’s life position or vocation.

If we were to rely upon the story of Jesus and the
centurion to answer our question about how Christians are to relate to the
military and its personnel, it might start with our own humble submission to
Christ’s power and authority that commands us to love our neighbor, even those
in the military; the power and authority to transcend old commands of an eye
for an eye; the power and authority to love our enemies, even those the state
designates as such; the power and authority to reconcile with those who may be
at odds with one another, such as pacifists and military personnel. The power
and authority of Jesus is to heal and not wound, to free and not oppress, to
transcend the labels, categories and boundaries that divide us as human beings.
When our faith takes hold of that kind of power and authority, healing will
surely follow.