The
Broken Centurions
And they said, Cornelius the centurion, a just man, and one that feareth God, and of good report among all the nation of the Jews, was warned from God by an holy angel to send for thee . . . .,
Acts 10:22
It is doubtful that many of today’s children know of the courage demanded of early warriors. Nor, I fear, have many the concept of true faith that motivated and empowered the young American founders. Indeed, here on the edge of Antichrist and verge of eternity, such stories seem almost fanciful, and imaginary. We hardly dare imagine anything approaching such character from anyone but our foremost missionaries, much less politicians. Nonetheless, as we have celebrated the founding of a great nation, I will here include a quote regarding an event taking place in the life of general George Washington. The quote involves the request of a friend of the Continental Army—regarding a traitor, Michael Wittman.
We take up the discussion after Washington has been nearly knocked off his seat by the request for the man’s acquittal.
Washington was taken aback. "Impossible! Wittman has done all in his power to betray us, even offering to join the British and help destroy us." He shook his head. "In these times we cannot be lenient with traitors; and for that reason I cannot pardon your friend. "
"Friend! He's no friend of mine. He is my bitterest enemy. He has persecuted me for years. He has even beaten me and spit in my face, knowing full well that I would not strike back. Michael Wittman is no friend of mine!"
Washington was puzzled. "And you still wish me to pardon him?"
"I do. I ask it of you as a great personal favor."
"Why?"
"I ask it because Jesus did as much for me."
Washington turned away and walked into the next room. Soon he returned with a paper on which was written the pardon of Michael Wittman. "My dear friend," he said, placing the paper in the old man's hand, “I thank you for this.”1
Such actions as those cited above did not diminish his standing or estimation in the eyes of those under his command (among those higher up, within the Continental Congress was another matter . . .) .
As we consider biblical centurions, therefore, let us remember those closer to us: the godly men and women who gave their lives to give us liberty, and others, who today are considered of little worth, unless some “dirt” may be dug up on them . . . .
In the matter of Cornelius, it is doubtful that we would have been introduced to him in the Acts of the apostles, if not for the angel. Although a leader of men—of Roman soldiers within an occupying force, and of imperial Rome—he had a standing more stark than America’s commanders engaged in Iraqi freedom (and a plan that was certainly more highly developed, for inclusion into the Roman world). He was a big cog in the powerful machine that insured Israel’s being fully squeezed into the Pax Romana of that first century.
There was no reason for a man of such standing to share in the spiritual concerns of the Israelis (Jewish nation) of that day. They were a small and barely tolerated remnant of what appeared (from Rome’s point of view) to be a backward people, with a proud but insignificant input into what was then the modern world.
Even in her the golden years, Israel had never dominated the globe as Rome did. In the first century, Israel’s greatest strength was grudgingly recognized to be in something other than military might, and her influence beyond the natural. Never, for example, had she exceeded (nor was she supposed to exceed) the limits of Babylon’s Euphrates, or the western reach of Egypt’s Nile (Genesis 16:18)—yet Rome’s burgeoning influence had swept her skirt over much of Europe, up into the British aisles, and down along the entire Mediterranean coast of north Africa, and into the Persian gulf. The Jews had the beauty of their temple to look to, but Roman citizens could look to their coliseums (architectural marvels housing 10,000s) as well as to elaborate temples. In every human endeavor and perspective, a person with the training and standing of a centurion had to learn one over-arching principle if he would come into intimacy and fellowship with the core of these special people, whose culture centered around the God of Abraham and Moses: Jehovah, the “I Am” of old, Who would out last the blasphemous Caesars and supercede all of Rome and her gods, as the Jewish prophet had foretold (Dan. 2:44,45)—yet, for the present, they were a small, if curious, minority.
That one attribute, needed to seek Israel’s Jehovah, was humility.
There are two instances where these special centurions seek the Lord, but both have this over arching virtue. We see, as well, in Luke’s gospel, a related concern for others (Phil. 2:4-6)—even for those “beneath him” within a highly structured, and almost apartheid, environment.
And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear unto him, was sick, and ready to die.
And when he heard of Jesus, he sent unto him the elders of the Jews, beseeching him that he would come and heal his servant.
Luke 7:2,3
This servant was a “doulos;” a household slave. Any way we look at it, something had taken place in this man’s heart to make him so concerned that he went out of his way to send for a holy man of a foreign nation, beseeching him to assist his slave. Even the locals were impressed by his piety.
he sent unto him the elders of the Jews, beseeching him that he would come and heal his servant.
And when they came to Jesus, they besought him instantly, saying, That he was worthy for whom he should do this:
For he loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue.
Luke 7:3-5
In all of this, his money was also where his mouth was.
Yet, his heart seemed to exceeded the reach of his personal wealth. These instances of centurions reaching out to Jesus evidently involved such humbling (and possibly, great ostracism, from peers) that it produced a rare brokenness within.
Then Jesus went with them. And when he was now not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying unto him, Lord, trouble not thyself: for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof:
Wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee: but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed.
vss 6,7
The centurion then speaks of his own authority, and of his ability to command others to do his bidding—and recognizes Christ as One having equal (or greater) authority. “Simply speak the word,” he was saying, “for you command the spiritual world and eternity, as I do the lives of men.”
When Jesus heard these things, he marvelled at him, and turned him about, and said unto the people that followed him, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.
Vs 9
All of the professionals, all of the religious hangers on, and all of those who regularly “tasted” of Christ’s sermons, and saw His miracles—somehow missed the quality that this centurion possessed. Nor was this the only incident of its kind.
In Luke’s recounting of the acts of the Holy Ghost, he also notes that another centurion was given the privilege of being the first Gentile to formally be welcomed into the body of Christ. This man lived in Caesarea (by the Mediterranean), while the one just mentioned lived in Capernaum (by the sea of Galilee). In the case of this second centurion, however, the Lord saw fit to exceed the boundaries of normal evangelism—by inviting him to find out about God’s new covenant with humankind, via “Heaven’s FedEx.”
An angel visited him in a vision.
Of course, Cornelius (the second centurion) cared nothing for the wealthy attitudes of well-to-do Jews who thought it chic to disregard angels and spirits (Acts 23:8). In other words, all of his power and prestige had not robbed him of a simple child-like faith. He was not playing with God, nor interested in the accolades of men. He had not gone through the rites and ceremonies of circumcision, but was still engaged in a serious quest for the living God.
He saw in a vision evidently about the ninth hour of the day an angel of God coming in to him, and saying unto him, Cornelius.
And when he looked on him, he was afraid, and said, What is it, Lord? And he said unto him, Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God.
Acts 10:3,4
To review: it is important to note that this man:
Was obviously not looking for a monetary return on his gifts to God.
Was not looking for increased prestige among his peers.
Was not looking for “power” in the natural sense.
Had a giving/missionary heart towards all who loved the Lord.
Was a man of intense prayer.
He had caught a glimpse of that heavenly kingdom, and that kingdom was now answering him. This is a mark of a true Israelite (Rom. 2:28,29). As the Scripture says of the faithful: if they’d been mindful of the world they were leaving behind, they would no doubt have turned back. But now, God has prepared for them a city (Heb. 11:15, 16). Therefore, the Lord Jesus is not ashamed to be called their God (vs. 16).
There is no grandstanding, here. As David called out to the Lord, “I have no one in Heaven, but You, and desire nothing on earth, besides You” (Psalm 73:25). So Abraham, also, when instructing his servant, gave stern warning, as he launched out for a bride for Isaac, “Beware that you don’t bring my son back there again” (Gen. 24:6). In other words, forsaking the old life (the “world”) was a necessity if these centurions were to successfully launch their affections into the presence of God. He didn’t just raise his hand, in some half baked commitment to this God—his very life, self image, and newly adopted world were on the line.
He had stepped out from the crowd, to walk towards the Lord.
This is something largely forgotten in our world today: something that does not figure prominently within the modern evangelical church. Many (most) have become sophisticates: experts on playing both ends against the middle while seeking to “relate” to the world (by tasting of its dainties).
Such double-mindedness would not suffice for one such as Cornelius—nor will it do, for us, today. Please note that he was not a missionary, per se, or minister of the cloth. He had no official title or position within the synagogue. He was simply a true believer: a seeker after God and one who was seeking that city, whose Builder and Maker is God. This is why he was given this special revelation of God’s heart. (Please note, I did not say, “a new concept” or “a new idea” or “his own special revelation”—but rather, a revelation of God’s heart. Opinions come and go, the truth stands.)
Many seem to have forgotten this, today, in the era of “cheap grace.”
I was reading somewhere, recently, an objection regarding the concept just stated. “Grace is not cheap,” they were protesting, for it cost Christ His very life’s blood. Yes, this is true, but it costs us as well (or should) does it not? Faithful evangelicals in the West live in the era of the church of Philadelphia: the time of the “open door.” Have you ever wondered why Jesus said that this church has “a little strength” (Rev. 3:8)? It is because the open door of freedom tends to make those who walk through it weak, and lazy. Her greatest challenge, therefore, becomes that of perseverance, and of holding the line.
For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.
For yet a little while, and he that shall come will come, and will not tarry.
Now the just shall live by faith: but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.
Hebrews 10:36-38
This perseverance (“patience” in the King James) is what Christ commends Philadelphia for, when telling her to look forward to His returning (Rev. 3:10,11).
It is to him who overcomes, that the prize is given (Rev. 2:7, 11, 17, . . . Matt. 24:13, Mk 13:17)—but “overcoming” obviously means different things to different people in different situations. Some go through the fire, some through the flood, others through greater trial, but all through the blood (I Pet. 1:6,7). In other words, what we call “faith” involves much more than a person mouthing words, or reciting a sinner’s prayer: it must involve the action of the heart. We must all become “centurions” (especially, today, in the West with our affluence) if we would see Christ in peace. The question is, whether we will remain faithful, or once more place our hope in Rome, instead of in the Jehovah3 (and Christ) of Israel.
Beyond Philadelphia (or, nominal Christianity, within our environment of ease and freedom) is Laodicea: the poor rich church—the one that declares to all the world, “I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing” (Rev. 3:17). This, the “broken centurions” never consider a possibility. Flaunting their faith, and wealth, was the furthest thing from their minds. To Christ, the first centurion hardly dares lift up his head, saying instead, “Lord, I’m not even worthy for You to come under my roof” (Matt. 8:8). Such is not the attitude of the Laodiceans among us, who are constantly declaring their “rights and privileges” before God. Nor will it elicit, I strongly suspect, the same response from the Lord, that the broken centurion’s faith did. Indeed, I wonder if He would not say of us “I have not found such faith, no not in the modern evangelical church. . . .”
It is doubtful, as well, whether the centurions mentioned in Scripture spent their spare time at the Coliseum watching the bloody games, there presented. For those who do such things sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall.
For they eat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence.
Prov. 4:16,17
Within our modern media, with its worship of sex, violence, and the grotesque (I read in one place of the new Terminator movie having a 100 ton wrecking ball demolish a steel and glass building, thus playing “to our most deliciously infantile fantasies of destruction.”4 Excuse me? Has 9-11 taught us nothing??? One wonders if our infatuation with blood has not prompted the Lord to allow its flowing within our streets, to awaken us . . . .)—such indulgence will abort spiritual insight into the heart and will of God. We cannot remain spiritually acute when we spend our evenings getting drunk on the wine of violence and swimming in the filth constantly flowing from our one-eyed-monsters, and silver screens. Those who focus on lying delusions (no matter how pretty) will lose an appreciation for the simple beauty of the Cross. Let me say that again. Those who indulge in such things will loose their spiritual discernment (Jonah 2:8)!!
“And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out to meet him.” At least the centurion was ready to step out from the crowd. Are we? Or, is a life of brokenness too high a price to pay within a post modern world that constantly salutes “self esteem”?
And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out.
But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.
It seems interesting to me, that the foolish are told to buy this oil for themselves. Maybe there really is a cost involved, in one’s commitment?
And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut.
Matthew 25:6-10
Unfortunately for these, who are really left behind, Christ offers no remedy. The time to get ready, is now.
†
¹Peter Marshall, and David Manuel. The Light and the Glory. New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1977. 323-324