| February 3, 2008
You are welcome to reflect on this message “The Limits of Power” (Luke 7:1-10)
Centurions, like stubborn women, come off good in the Bible. There are no bad centurions. The story this morning is about one of them in relation to the issues of power, authority, and faith. Dealing successfully with authority figures has never been easy for beings that are human. Whether it’s Mom or Dad, a teacher, a boss, a drill sergeant, policeman, judge, governor or president – anybody who holds sway over things that affect us, we walk a fine line in relation to them.
Like the one who verbalizes our text today: “For I am a man set under authority.” Only there are a lot more under it than over it! And the world in every era was run by a handful of wealthy white men. The one “under authority” was a Roman military officer. All we know about him comes from the Gospel of Luke, who tells us several things, not the least being he was a man of substance. He’s an established property owner and that includes the slave around whom this story is told. “Now a certain centurion had a servant who was dear to him...” Though a subordinate, he was beloved, because the owner appealed on behalf of the owned, to the Jewish leaders to intercede with Jesus for a cure, as he was close to dying.
Oh they liked this guy, because he contributed money to the congregation in Capernaum. Luke adds, “He loves our nation, and built our synagogue.” He not only was wealthy enough to own a slave, but he gave away part of what he had to something he believed in. He both has and gives. So it’s not surprising that the centurion is well thought of. The Jews are glad to respond to the favor of his request of them, not for himself, but for his ailing slave. Thus they approach Jesus about the man’s petition: “This guy’s OK; worthy to have you do this for him, for he loves our people, and he built us our synagogue.”
So good so far. There's something likable about this Centurion. We get the picture of an upright, decent, generous man with kind, charitable instincts; a man of influence in the world, who knows how to use it. And apparently more often than not, tried to use it for good. So the elders go to bat for him with Jesus. Here's where it gets interesting. For all his influence and generosity notwithstanding, he lives and deals in the real world of power and authority, that plays with people’s lives. He even has some authority by rank. And he’s under authority; used to the give-and-take of the “chain of command.” (Where one guy’s in command, and the rest are in chains!)
Being a military officer in a powerful army, well he’s no fool. There’s no ambivalence about the power of hierarchy; no maybes, just yes sir, no sir. His “yea is yea and nay is nay.” That’s how he makes things happen. “I’m a man set under authority. When I tell people to do something, they do it or else. I expect it to get done. I have power and I am responsible to power. I obey orders and I give out orders. I say to one man, `Go' and he goes; and to another, `Come' and he comes.”
We're not talking democracy here; no consensus building; kum ba yah; if it's all right with you, it's all right with me stuff. This is a man used to calling the shots. He’s experienced in the exercise of it and he respects power and authority when he sees it. He got a whiff of something he liked about Jesus. So our portrait is filling out. Here is a rich, generous, well thought of, person of influence. All admirable qualities. An ancient Clint Eastwood: the strong but sensitive “can-do” type upon whom authority rests comfortably and cleanly. He had power and used it for good. This is how Luke describes the foreign officer – an unusual combination of strength and justice, opportunity and necessity. But best of all is his penchant to do good with whatever power he has. He aspires to be worthy of the confidence and possibility placed in his hands. At least in this instance he saw power as a means and not an end.
Power as an end in itself will fail because it gets corrupted and abused. Those who wield it are always afraid they will lose it, because somebody else always wants it. Doing good for somebody else with their power never crosses their minds. Only, “What's in it for me?” The centurion understood this and that's why Luke holds him up for us. He's a straightforward “set under authority, used to giving order, and expects to have them obeyed, just as he obeys.
This is an important person. And that importance is highlighted, I think, in order to point out that, with all the power the centurion has, still he is powerless. Like having thermo-nuclear weapons that nobody can use. With plenty of power to spare, he’s helpless to help his servant whom he loves, except ask for it. So impotent in the midst of chariot, sword, and spear, that he stoops to beg his friends to approach this Jesus, whom he's never met, for a personal favor. He who gives orders and gives money to endow synagogues has to turn to the recipients of his charity and entreats them to solicit the help of a stranger when he recognized the limits of his power.
Luke ratches it up a notch when he tells us that the centurion never meets Jesus! They don’t exchange a single word. This is no Mary Magdalene story, where a sinful woman was converted by Jesus face to face; no rich young ruler, where a man was confronted by the preaching of Jesus but went away sad. Or Zacchaeus of Jericho, up a sycamore tree, who invited Jesus for lunch and restored 4-fold those he’d short-changed. The 2 principals in this story never encounter one another. At first, the centurion wanted Jesus to come to him. But then reconsidered, as power recognizes power. “Ah he’s probably too busy!” “Lord,” he says, “don't trouble yourself, for I’m not worthy. You don’t even need to come. ‘Cause from what I hear, I’m confident that you’re more than capable of doing what I want.” He believed that Jesus was so proficient in the realm of power that he didn't even have to be present physically to pull it off! So this one, under authority, a man of some power himself, asks Jesus to use his power on behalf of his ill slave.
And Jesus stopped in his tracks! Whoa! He was so impressed by this act of blind trust that he utters one of the few of his most glowing compliments in the Gospels and it went to a Gentile soldier: “Wow! Even in Israel, where people are supposed to believe this stuff, I’ve never seen such confidence” (Luke 7:9). And here the story ends: “When those who’d been sent returned to the house, they found the slave well” (Luke 7:10).
Now you know and I know the human condition being what it is, power can be good or bad, depending on how it’s used. Jesus had all power, stilling the storms over the Galilee and spooked his disciples. What kind of man is this? He has power over nature and human nature, and he used that power to love not rule. Luke’s story is not anti-power. It recognizes that power in and of itself has value. And God bless all who use it gently, wisely and well, even as did our centurion.
Still there are things power can't do. Power has its limits. There are places power can’t go; things it cannot do. And when the power bumps against its limitations, we’re gonna need something else. Then, we turn to a power not-our-own, beyond our ability to impress others or rescue them. Having authority doesn’t mean the power to command, or even obey. Real authority comes in relationship, a belonging to that recognizes its limits. Jesus authority was (exousia Gr) “out of himself.”
The real power here is love. Was it not compassion for his slave that sent this powerful master searching for a power greater than his own? Jesus marveled at it. We marvel at his love. For when the power failed, love is all that's left. The Apostle Paul said in his Corinthian hymn, “Love endures; love never fails.” And that is all we ever need to know or have.
“For I am a man of power and authority.” But Luke claims it’s the love of Jesus that gives us the power we lack. And we must know by now that it is only this kind of power, embodied by our Centurion, that has any chance of making this a better world, where we’re not bosses but servants; just frail instruments of the love of God who never runs out of love or life.
The ‘70's film “Billy Jack,” of “One Tin Soldier” fame, is a debate about the turbulent days of the Vietnam war, filmed near Santa Fe, NM. The conflict between pacifism and militarism is addressed through a couple of characters, played by Delores Taylor and ex-Green Beret Tom Laughlin. In a final scene there’s a showdown of force, and a great line by Taylor that stuck with me: “Where there is power, there can be no love.” I’m not so sure about that one. But this one I’m sure of when she added: “And where there is love, there’s no need for power.” I think Luke would concur.
We’re so different from the Roman Centurion. Rarely do we recognize our weakness and acknowledge Another authority. When is the last time somebody sought power for somebody else and not ourselves? This humble officer thought himself unworthy, but others deemed worthy. He sure knew how to make Jesus smile! Help us to be as generous with our blessings as this big-hearted soldier was with his. He wouldn’t let his Gentile nationality keep him from contributing to the building of a Jewish house of worship. His faith in what Jesus could do stands as a model for us all. He believed just a word from you could heal his friend. So we believe you can bless our friends. We lay their pain and broken places before you now for healing.
As our country endures the arduous but necessary process of selecting a new leader, it reminds us of the burden of leadership upon those with authority. So we pray for those who shoulder the responsibility of elective office in ours and every nation, that they may seek the common good and the peaceable fruits of impartiality. Grant that we all would realize the limitations of human wisdom in dealing with the perplexities of our day, and respect those who try to do so. And never hesitate to call upon Thee in humility, acknowledging always “how great Thou art,” that we might learn the wisdom of restraint and the justice of charity.
May we all strive for the life Jesus came to bring, so that the cares of self and society won’t rob us of the joy of being human. Anxious though we are about the long view, may this worship help us to take the step before us, knowing that of such, the stories of our lives are made. Amen. Back |
