Sermon: Stepping Out on Faith

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Stepping Out on Faith

Luke 7:1-10

Jesus Heals a Centurion’s Servant

7After Jesus had finished all his sayings in the hearing of the people, he entered Capernaum. 2A centurion there had a slave whom he valued highly, and who was ill and close to death. 3When he heard about Jesus, he sent some Jewish elders to him, asking him to come and heal his slave. 4When they came to Jesus, they appealed to him earnestly, saying, ‘He is worthy of having you do this for him, 5for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us.’ 6And Jesus went with them, but when he was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to say to him, ‘Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; 7therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed. 8For I also am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, “Go”, and he goes, and to another, “Come”, and he comes, and to my slave, “Do this”, and the slave does it.’ 9When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd that followed him, he said, ‘I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.’ 10When those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the slave in good health.

Prayer: Oh Lord uphold me, that I may uplift Thee.

Very rarely, and only in the Gospel of John, does Jesus explicitly say that he is the divine.  In fact, very often, particularly in Mark, Jesus will do a miracle and then tell everyone who saw to keep it a secret.  Even in Matthew, Jesus never tells us who he is, only to believe in his father.  It is after his resurrection that the disciples, his closest friends and followers, finally come to understand that this Jesus is the son of God.  So it is no surprise, really, when we encounter people in each of the Gospels who are clueless, including his disciples.  

What is surprising is when we are introduced to a Roman centurion who is filled with faith in Jesus.  The Romans were the oppressors of the Jews, and this centurion is an officer in the Roman army.  He is the most unlikely of people to be coming to Jesus for help at all, much less to have faith that Jesus is a “man set under authority.”  It is simply remarkable that this man has come to Jesus at all.  

And yet, here he is.  In Luke’s version of this story, he sends Jewish leaders to make his case for him.  He is making a few points by doing this.  He is saying he believes Jesus can perform miracles, that he believes Jesus can do it from afar, and that he knows he is unworthy to stand in Jesus’ presence, much less to have Jesus enter his house.  The faith of this man who isn’t supposed to have faith is astounding, and Jesus says so.  In fact, in this story, as is rarely the case, Jesus is the one who is amazed.  He even says that he knows very few Jews who have this kind of faith in him.  

Jesus unexpectedly turns what I think is a story about a guy who just wants his servant to be able to serve him again, into a story of faith.  Turning things upside down is kind of what Jesus does, it’s his thing.  

We see it in parables all the time.  For instance, in the parable of the Good Samaritan.  The priest and the judge are supposed to be the upstanding members of society.  They are the guys the Jews turned to when they needed help.  They are the guys that anyone would expect to help them if they were lying beaten on the side of the road.  They sure are a disappointment in this story.  And then comes the Samaritan, the lowest of the low.  He’s a nobody.  And yet, his heart is good.  Can you imagine if Peter or Jeanne or I walked right by you on the side of the road while you lay there dying?  We would obviously say a prayer for you, but if you’re bleeding, I’m keeping my distance.  And then you are rescued by the one person you asked God not to send.  For me, it would be a girl who tormented me all through elementary school.  I labeled her “enemy” at the age of 7 and have, to this day, not backed down from that designation.  I’m pretty sure she’s probably a lovely person now, but when I imagine this scenario, that’s who I see as the Samaritan.  The most unexpected twist at the end turns everything we thought we knew into something else.  

  But this isn’t a parable, it’s actually happening, right in front of everyone.  There is no secret here.  Jesus has healed a man from a distance solely based on the faith of another man.  

I wonder what that’s like…to have that kind of faith.  

Before I came here, just over a week ago, I got an email from a friend who said, “It is a major faith move, Bethany, it truly is.”  As I read those words over and over, I asked myself, “Do I have that much faith?”  Do I trust that this Jesus, who healed a man from afar, who fed five thousand, who raised Lazarus from the dead, who walked on water, who suffered and died on the cross, who was resurrected…do I have faith that he will walk with me, will hold my hand, will keep me in his heart…while I go out to do his work?  

I have been wrestling with this question for quite a while now, actually.  Will God really be there in my hour of need?  

I don’t actually know the answer to that question.  What I do know is that God has always been there in my hour of need.

When I was seventeen years old, in my last year of high school, the unthinkable happened.  I came home from my job as a pharmacy technician just in time to watch my family’s favorite show.  We wrapped up the evening around ten and everyone else went to bed.  I stayed up because, of course, I needed to talk on the phone with my boyfriend.  Around 11:30, I heard a pop and a fizz come from the kitchen.  I went to investigate, looking mostly around the refrigerator because we had been having trouble with it for a few months.  Finding nothing, I turned to go back to the sitting room.  That was when I saw a thin haze of smoke settling over the kitchen table.  I decided to wake up my dad, thinking he would want to know that the refrigerator had likely just petered out.  So I woke him, let him go downstairs and I went to bed, taking the phone with me.  Not thirty seconds later I heard a pounding across the downstairs and then my dad came running up the stairs yelling “Call the fire department!!  The house is on fire!!”  Without missing a beat, I dialed the number as my dad gathered my mom.  The woman on the other end of the line commanded us to get out of the house immediately.  We ran down the stairs as the house began to fill with black smoke.  As soon as we were outside, we turned and saw that the garage was engulfed in flames and I burst into tears.  That night, I watched as the only home I had ever known burned to the ground, taking with it a lifetime of memories.

Then a remarkable thing happened.  Neighbors started coming to help.  They brought food in the middle of the night.  One woman brought me a tooth brush.  Another let us use her phone to call family.  One family gave us beds to sleep in for the night.  And it didn’t stop when the night was over.  Church members showed up with money.  School friends brought clothes.  Our pastor, both my parents’ bosses, all the members of my high school chorus…they all showed up looking to help.  There was nothing for them to do, but they were there.  They were present.  And they brought with them love, which was really what we needed.

I didn’t have to have faith in God for that to happen.  In our darkest hour, God is the one who is faithful.  God is the one who stands by us, holds our hands, loves us, and walks with us.  We stray.  We are the ones who say to God, “Where are you?” and God replies, “I’ve always been here.  Where are you?”  

We had planned to move after I graduated high school, so my parents had been preparing to sell our house.  It was clear, though, that it wouldn’t sell very well or very quickly.  My mother would be going to seminary, and she and my dad were planning to live on campus in married student housing.  They were not excited.  They would be moving from a four bedroom house, to a one bedroom apartment.  That meant putting a lot of stuff in storage.  It meant no room for my sister or me to sleep in when coming home from college to visit.  It meant a lot of downsizing and a major lifestyle adjustment, on top of Mom quitting her job, both kids being out of the house, and starting back to school full time.  My parents were, to say the least, dreading it.

But then our house burned down.  With the insurance money, my parents were able to buy a house close to the seminary.  This meant that when I got so sick I had to drop out of college, they had a room for me to stay in.  And when my sister got a job close by and needed a place to live for a few months before finding her own place, there was a room for her too.  It meant that when Mom needed a respite from school, she had a sanctuary to come home to.  

This was a show of God’s faithfulness.  We were desperate people, we were homeless.  And God showed up.  

And yet, even in spite of the countless times God has shown up in my life and the lives of my loved ones, I still lack faith.  I pray for faith.  I pray fervently.  But sometimes it just doesn’t come.  

I read a story a few years ago about a man whose wife died suddenly the day before Easter.  He was devastated.  There was no way of understanding what had happened.  He could not have faith, even on Easter Sunday.  But he got up and went to church the next day anyway.  As he recounted the story, he said that he knew, in his darkest hour, that his Christian family would have faith for him.  And that that was going to have to be good enough.  

Sometimes, in our darkest hours, we have to let others have faith for us, and we have to let God be faithful to us.  But if we are unable to have faith, that’s okay.  

The Roman centurion had faith in Jesus’ healing powers.  Even if his servant did not, the centurion had faith enough for the both of them.  And Jesus was faithful to them.

God doesn’t ever not answer prayers.  Sometimes the answer is “yes,” and we are fully aware of the yes.  Sometimes the answer is “not right now,” and we must wait (most likely we’ll wait impatiently).  And sometimes the answer is “no.”  But God is faithful, and doesn’t ever ignore us.  And so, when I prayed fervently for faith, to have faith that this journey to the other side of the world was going to be okay, my answer came in the form of my faith community.  

My friends and family surrounded me with encouragement, love, praise.  They had so much faith in God and in me, and so while I let my anxiety get the best of me, they were having faith for me.  And here I am.  Safe and sound, on the other side of the world from the one home I’ve always known.  It didn’t burn down.  Atlanta is still there.  But God, in God’s faithfulness, has brought us together and is moving and working in all kinds of unexpected ways.  Even in spite of my lack of faith.

And so, my prayer for this congregation is that, even in the midst of disbelief, we will have faith for each other.  Just as the centurion did.  Because when we hold each other up, we are being true to our calling to be the Body of Christ.  And we may just find each other healed.

Amen.