Sermon

Sunday, July 5

The healing of the Centurion’s Servant-Matt. 8:5-13

 

Is there someone in church today who served in the United States armed forces?  I would like to ask you a few questions.

1.      When an order is given, how often is that ordered followed?

2.      Do soldiers have discretion if they want to follow orders?

3.      What would happen in a military engagement if orders were not followed?  What would be the result?

4.      How are soldiers treated who do not follow orders?

5.      Does obedience to orders make you feel comfortable or feel uneasy?  Why?

6.      Does obeying orders make you more free, or less free?

7.      Who has the easier job, the person giving the orders or the person following them?

 

Obviously, in military circles, when an order is given, it is followed.  Soldiers are taught to be obedient to orders, they don’t arbitrarily decide which ones they will follow and which ones they won’t.  A military engagement where orders are not followed would probably end in total catastrophe.  Soldiers who don’t follow orders aren’t soldiers for long.  When a person understands his role in his military unit, and understands that he is a person under authority, it should make that person feel comfortable and trust in his or her superior officers.  In a sense, obeying orders makes one more free because disobedience creates chaos.  And the easier job, believe it or not, usually belongs to the person following the orders, rather than the person giving them, because leadership and responsibility are almost always more difficult positions than obeying and following. 

 

In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus encounters a Centurion.  A Centurion was a Roman soldier who commended 100 men in a Roman legion, a very powerful military man accustomed to GIVING orders and having his orders obeyed.  His stature is evident when he offers, “I am a man of authority with soldiers under me and I say to one ‘Go’ and he goes, and to another ‘come’ and he comes, and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.    The Centurion is a Gentile.  He is not one of God’s chosen people.  Perhaps he doesn’t even believe in God.  After all, HE is a man of authority—And as many people in authority do, supreme confidence in one’s own ability sometimes makes it hard to put trust in one superior to you.  And yet, when the Centurion encountered Jesus, something changed in him.  First, he had a servant who was very sick, and despite his military accomplishments, this mighty Centurion could do nothing to help his servant.  But he certainly wanted to.  We are not told what motivated the Centurion to approach Jesus.  Perhaps he had heard of him and was curious.  Or maybe he was desperate.  In any case, he approaches Jesus and calls him “Lord.”  We know that in military circles, superiors are either addressed by rank, “Yes, General,” or more simply, “yes, sir.”  The Centurion addresses Jesus as “Lord,” the greatest of ranks, and tells Him the sad news of his ill servant.  Jesus offers “I will come and heal him.” It makes no difference to Jesus that this man is a Centurion and a Gentile—His healing is for all people of all stations in life.   And here is where the heart of the Centurion changes from military commander to humble servant—“Lord I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But only speak a word, and my servant will be healed.”  Again, here is a man of authority, with 100 soldiers under him who unquestionably obey his every command.  And HE cannot have Jesus, a man of simple appearance, come under his roof.  Jesus said “Truly I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel,” not even among God’s chosen people.  “And I say to you that many will come from east and west and sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, but the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into outer darkness.  There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”  It wasn’t the fact that the Centurion was a military commander that impressed Jesus.  It was not the fact that he was a man of authority.  Jesus was moved by this man’s faith, and by the even greater example of a man of authority becoming a man under authority, seeing a man of accomplishment become a man of humility, seeing a man of supreme confidence in himself, become a man of supreme faith in someone else.  And Jesus said to the Centurion, “Go your way, and as you have believed, so let it be done for you.”  And his servant was healed from that same hour. 

 

We tend to look up to the leaders of the world—every father wants his son to be the star of the baseball team, not the role player on the bench.  We love the quarterback, but forget the offensive tackle.  Parents push their children to be leaders, and many people would take it as an insult if you told them, “boy, you are a good follower.”  And we tend to respect people based on how many people they have under their authority. 

So where does the authority of God fit in with the authority of people?  For some in authority, it doesn’t fit in at all.  For those in leadership, whether you are the head of an army, a company or even a family, there is the temptation to see yourself as omniscient, all knowing.  But for the Christian, the only omnipotent one is God Himself, and so for the Christian leader, for the Christian who holds a position of authority, there is also another role, a person who is under authority.  The Metropolitan and the Uniform Parish Regulations call the priest the leader of the church community.  And in this community, people look at me as the leader—the celebrant of the services, the leader in joy, the commander in grief, the one who provides the direction for the community.  But I am also under authority—of the Metropolitan, of God.  And as leader, my primary role is not as commander, but as servant.  I am the celebrant at the altar, but also the visitor to the hospital bed.  I may be the father to my son—his leader, hopefully his role model, but I also help to change his diapers and wash his dishes.  This week, I will again depart for summer camp, and have the awesome responsibility of the safety and well-being of hundreds of campers and staff.  But I will still bow my head many times a day in prayer to the authority above me, Almighty God, for the wisdom to carry out the tasks of the day, for guidance in solving the problems I am sure to face, with thanksgiving for this awesome blessing He has given me. 

 

While we may be generals in our homes or our businesses, if we are truly Orthodox Christians, then we are soldiers in an army, and God is our general, our leader, our commander, our Lord.  And just like the good soldier, we have to follow orders—we have to love, we have to forgive, we have to help.  And these orders are not discretionary, they are absolute.  Just like when the general gives an order and the soldiers follow it without filtering it through their brains and interpreting for themselves what it means, when God gives us a commandment, it is to be followed.  In the military engagement, when orders are not followed, the mission is a failure.  In God’s army, the same rules apply—if we cannot follow God’s commandments, then the church and the Gospel cannot move forward.  Soldiers who do not follow orders are put out of the army.  In God’s army, soldiers who do not follow orders are not put out of the army necessarily, but offered a chance at repentance, an opportunity to learn to be a good soldier, again and again and again.  When a combat unit goes into battle, each soldier may know his role in the fight, but probably doesn’t know the entire battle plan.  Each soldier does his part, trusting that if he does his part, and everyone else does their part, the battle will be won.  He also trusts in the commander who has put the plan together, even if he does not entirely know or understand the plan.  Same thing with God—HE is the commander who has put the plan for salvation together.  Each of us has a role to play.  We don’t know the plan entirely, some of us are still trying to figure out our individual role in it.  But we have to trust in God, our general, that the plan is sound, and that if we each do our individual parts, the battle will be won, not just for us as individuals, but collectively, as a parish, as a people. 

 

The objective-salvation-is easy to say, but hard to define.  The opponent-evil- is easy to define, but hard to contain.  And the weapons are not materials we can hold in our hands, but rather things that we can hold in our hearts.  In fact, ironically, we are told the weapons in this morning’s Epistle lesson to the Galatians:  But the fruits of the spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.  These are the fruits, the tools, the weapons, that we must carry into battle each and every day, as we fight the good fight, as we run our race, as we strive to keep the faith for ourselves and spread it to one another.  This afternoon, we have a baptism—In the Orthodox Church, a baptism is not an ending—it does not mark the day one is saved.  Rather it is a beginning—it is the day one joins the army of Christ as a soldier.  It is the day one is first given the gifts, the tools, the weapons to fight in the Army of God.  The day one passes away is the day one finds out how he did in the battle—did he win, or lose. 

 

The key moment in the story of the Centurion is when this man realized that despite being a man of authority, a man blessed by God with talents to be a leader, when he realized that God was the ultimate authority and that he was a servant of God.  In that day, not only his servant was healed, but he was as well.  Ironically, the first thing he asked God for was not something for himself, but healing for his servant.  HE served not only His Lord, but his own servant, and in leading by serving, Jesus accepted his faith and rewarded it.

 

This is the first time I have preached on this Gospel lesson in the five years I’ve been in Tampa.  Because of the way the dates of summer camp fell this year, and with Pascha being early, I read this Gospel here in Tampa this year.  For the past several years, it has been the Gospel lesson one of the Sundays I am at summer camp.  In fact, the last time I preached on this Gospel in my home church, was in 2004, at my former parish of Holy Trinity in Asheville, North Carolina.  And ironically, this Gospel fell on the day that I was announcing my transfer from there to here.  I remember my remarks from that day—I talked about authority and servanthood, and how one who is a priest is an authority in his parish, but is also under the authority of His Metropolitan, the church and ultimately under authority of God.  I remember saying how cool it was to be a person of authority—I was about to leave for summer camp that year as well, and to direct the camp, as one who is saying “Go,” and the campers go, “come” and they come, and “do this,” and they do it.  I remember also saying how difficult it was and still is at times to be under the authority of the Church—So that when they say “go” I go, and when they say “come” I come, and when they say “do this,” I do it.  But the ultimate expression of freedom, I told my congregation that day, is in obedience.  So that when I was asked to transfer to Tampa, I didn’t wonder, “Is this part of God’s plan for me?”  Or “Why is this part of God’s plan for me?”  I just came as I was told, trusting that the reasons I am here, which have already been revealed to me in part, will be revealed to me in full on that day when I shall stand before God and answer to Him about the kind of soldier I have been.  For He will first ask me, and you, not what kind of leader we were, but what kind of follower.  And before one can be a general, he must learn to be a good soldier.  In the world, some of us are generals and some of us are soldiers.  All are needed to make the world go.  In the church, all of us are soldiers and all of our efforts are needed in this fight to bring the things of  God into a world where they are largely absent, in a world where in many corners they are not even wanted. 

 

Some of us reflect on our lives and wonder “Is this part of God’s plan for me?” or “Why is this part of God’s plan for me?”  So, I encourage you when questions like these come to mind, continue to be the good soldier, trust in God, and all things will be revealed to you in God’s time.

Yesterday we celebrated the birthday of our country, founded on freedoms that were based on unalienable rights, rooted in obedience to laws guaranteeing them.  The founders of our country realized 233 years ago that freedom is preserved in obedience to law and order.  That works in secular terms and it certainly works in spiritual ones.  May God bless each of you this day, may He inspire you to be obedient to His commandments, and may He ultimately reward you with a place in the army of His saints in His heavenly Kingdom.  May God’s light shine in the hearts of those in authority in our country, and guide them not only as our leaders but as His servants.  God bless America!

I will be leaving tomorrow morning—I will be back for Liturgy on Sunday, July 26, then I will be leaving again for some vacation, and I will return full time on August 5.  Fr. John of course will be filling in in my absence.  He will return from his vacation on Tuesday.    Please pray for me in my travels and in the awesome responsibility that is our summer camp.  God bless you!