Demoniac to Disciple; a Legion Goes Swimming (Luke 8: 26-39) 6/23/13

          In The Exorcist, a novel by William Peter Blatty later made into a movie, Father Merrin, the exorcist, has died. Little Regan MacNeil is about to die, as her body is worn out from containing a host of demons. Father Merrin’s assistant Damien Karras, a young Jesuit priest, is her only hope. Damien is as educated as one can be. He is schooled by the Roman Catholic Church as a doctor, a psychiatrist, a priest. He is one of the best and the brightest, and in spite of all that education, Father Karras has come to the end of the line. His faith and judgment are now put to the supreme test. All his schooling cannot explain what confronts him. He looks into the tortured eyes of a young teenager and in them he sees the face of unadulterated evil.  It is an evil that has occupied the body of this girl and it has taken all the old priest had left. Now only Damien Karras stands for God. The demons fear God, but they do not fear Father Karras.

          Jesus is walking through the towns of the Decapolis. The Decapolis is a term for group of predominantly Gentile cities around the Sea of Galilee, also called Lake Gennesaret. The disciples are with him as he performs many mighty acts. Joanna and Suzanna are with them, as is Mary Magdalene, a woman who once had been home to seven demons herself. One day Jesus got into a boat and the disciples followed. They sailed to the other side of the lake; that is, they did so after Jesus calmed the storm on the lake with one rebuke, further amazing the disciples. The challenge that awaited Jesus on the other side of the lake was even more profound than dealing with nature. Jesus was about to deal up close and personal with the presence of evil.

          The Exorcist is a real page turner. The movie is one of the scariest I have ever seen. Perhaps it was so scary to me because I believe that demons exist. I believe that evil exists. It is a powerful force in the world and it is alive and well. It is often spoken of as Satan, but Satan is only one facet of evil. His job is made easier by the sinful nature that we humans bring to the table. If Jesus called Satan the “ruler of this world” and the “prince of the air,” perhaps I had better pay attention to the reality of his presence. Exorcisms are the name given to the act of commanding, in God’s name, demons to come out of people.

Exorcists deal with demons. I’d rather be a snake handler than an exorcist. A snake can only kill me. A demon can take my soul.  

          Jesus and the disciples sail to the land of the Gerasenes. Scholars say that Luke, or later translators, meant the lakeside towns of either Gergesa or Gadara. Whatever the town, it lay on the other side of the lake and one of the local industries was raising pigs. Jews didn’t eat pork, so this was most probably a Gentile community. Luke tells the story of the demoniac in flash-back fashion. The man runs to Jesus, begging him not to torment. The demons are speaking through the man, for Jesus has already commanded them to leave.

          The flash-backs fill in some of the blanks in the story. What a sight this man was! He was naked. He lived in the tombs among the dead rather than in a house with the living. I would imagine his beard was years out of control.  He had been known to break the bands of metal shackles. His strength was obviously more than human. This man was dangerous. If you were out for a walk with your children when he came into view, you went back home and put a chair in front of the door. Jesus says: What’s your name? But he is not talking to the man, for the man has long ago disappeared into this dwelling place of evil.

          “I am legion!” The man’s voice crackles with poison as the demons use it to communicate to Jesus. “I am legion,” says the voice. In the Roman army, a legion was six thousand men. The parallel story in Mark’s gospel tells us that some two thousand pigs were in the herd. The implication in Mark is that there were two thousand demons. Luke seems to imply more. The point is that the poor man was so demon infested, he had all but disappeared.

          In The Exorcist, the girl Regan is used to speak in tongues, in the voices of loved ones, in various forms of people and eras. Her demonic occupants are many as they are in Luke’s story. Her looks are only dimly reminiscent of the young girl whose body has been inhabited by evil itself.  Her own mother cannot recognize her, so vast and complete is the metamorphosis. For Regan and for the poor besieged man of Luke’s story, their bodies have become vessels for the poison of evil to spew forth as from a human volcano.

 Have you ever felt the presence of evil? Ever seen its evidence in the manipulations of men? Ever felt it seething inside your own anger? The presence of evil on the silver screen and in Scripture can be graphic, but chances are you have had your own personal encounter with feelings that resemble such ugliness. Evil comes in all shapes and sizes and it possesses by degree. The more we give in to it, the more it inhabits us. We do not have to become demoniacs to know the presence of demons.

The demons beg Jesus not to command them to depart into the abyss, or the underworld from which they could not return. Jesus allows them to enter the pigs, but look what happens. The pigs, infested with demons, now rush headlong over the cliff and drown in the sea. The demons would have fared better in the abyss. At least they would have been alive.

In The Exorcist, Father Karras seizes the moment. He knows how to save Regan. He must take on the demons. “Come into me” he commands the demons. “Come into me.” The demons are delighted to take up residence in a man of God. In an instant, Karras’ face is contorted. He looks horrible, evil. His soul struggles and for a moment, he is back. But the demons are strong and they gain control again. Desperately the young priest wrestles with his soul. For one fleeting moment, he again is his own master and in that brief moment, he may have remembered the story of the demoniac in Luke, for he lunges forward and crashes through the upstairs window three stories to the parking lot below and his death. He, like the pigs, has rushed headlong off the cliff. He has lost his life, but saved his soul and that of Regan MacNeil as well. The demons? They suffer the same fate as those who rushed to the pigs.

What wonderful stories! We have the exorcism of a legion of demons in Luke’s gospel and a beautiful, fictional story of heroism by a modern day priest. If there were nothing more, we could take great comfort in the power of Jesus and the courage of a Christian disciple. But there is more. There is so much more, for the story in Luke does not end with the loss of a herd of pigs and the exorcism and destruction of many demons. That is only the backdrop for this story. The lesson is yet to come.

Word traveled fast. The people of the city came out to see. They found the man fully clothed and in his right mind. He was sitting in the disciple’s position; that is, he was sitting at the feet of Jesus. It was too much for the people. Their pigs were gone. Their local economy was endangered. This man Jesus had scared them in a way that left them off balance. Sadly, they just were not ready for the miracle. But the man…oh, was he ready!

The man begged Jesus to let him go with him. He was new. He was healed. He was ready. But Jesus told him to return home. Jesus told him to declare how much God had done for him. And the man went. Luke tells us that he proclaimed throughout the city how much God had done for him! The man full of demons was now consumed with the Holy Spirit. Once a demoniac, now he was a disciple of his Savior.

In the movies, art imitates life. The Exorcist ends with a touching scene in which the MacNeils are taking a trip to get away from the scene of so much pain and sorrow. The mother is saying her goodbyes to the parish priest. Regan is calm and looks perfectly at peace. Except for the facial scars that are healing, one would never know of her ordeal. As they approach the taxi, Regan spots the cross worn by the priest. A look of recognition comes over her face and she hugs the priest so tightly he is touched. She knows. Somewhere deep inside, she knows that her Savior is with her, has rescued her. The cross reminds her not only of some ordeal still vaguely in her memory, but also of the saving grace of God. Once again, art has imitated one of the great truths of life, that Jesus is never far away, that he rescues us from evil, from the abyss, even from our selfish desires.

The lessons of the demoniac with a legion of demons are several. One is that Jesus again identifies himself as Lord, able to not only calm the storms of life but equally capable of casting the worst demons away from us. Another is that Jesus is no respecter of class or rank. He comes to all of us in need, regardless of our pedigree. Just ask the Gentile full of demons.

But the lesson for me is that if we want Jesus to save us, if we want him in our lives, then we should expect him to give us a job. We must be ready for the miracle. When it comes, we will sit at the feet of Jesus, worshiping him and feeling the warmth of his presence. We will want to stay right there, but Jesus may want something else for us.

“…but Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.’ ” Discipleship comes with responsibility. We must do as the man did that day. We must do the bidding of our Savior. We must proclaim how much Jesus has done… for us.  

Faith Makes Us Right (Galatians 2: 15-21) 6/16/13

It’s Father’s Day. This week my thoughts turned to my father. He has been gone from his earthly home for fifteen years now, but as time passes, I seem to become more attuned to his presence. It is as though he has somehow merged with all those things I identify as spiritual about me and there, in that spiritual awareness, I can feel him. It’s hard to explain, but I am aware of my father and not just through memory. Do you sometimes have similar experiences with someone you loved who is no longer part of this world? Perhaps the explanation says more about me than it does about my father. Perhaps during those moments, I am more alive in the Spirit and less bound by earthly limitations. In Scotland, people go to certain spots which are called “thin” places. It is said that there is more chance to be in touch with the spiritual side of our world in these places. Whatever separates earth from heaven is “thinner”. In those times, I feel closer to God, more able to feel his presence in and around me.

How do you acquire right standing with God? In today’s passage, Paul begins to spell out his definition and summary of the gospel. Central to that gospel is justification by faith, a doctrine which is essential to understanding the path to salvation. In this passage, Paul proclaims belief in Christ’s redemptive death as the sole path by which believers can achieve salvation. Christ comes into our hearts and we become new creations. When this is accomplished, we are justified. God can look at us because Christ has justified us. In the eyes of God, we are clean and fresh and holy. Our sins have been bought and paid for. But how do we acquire this justification that Christ paid for? We have only to believe. We believe in Christ and in the message of his life, death and resurrection.

One of my “thin” places is right here on these church grounds. Sometimes, when I need to seek something deeper, I get up from my desk and do a walkabout through the sanctuary or to the cemetery or down to the lake. Somewhere in those moments, I usually find what I am looking for. I find a more solid communication with my Father. But this time, I’m not talking about my earthly father. In such times, I am looking for that solid ground where I can re-enforce my faith with my Heavenly Father.

In Galatia, visiting evangelists had apparently persuaded congregants in the churches there to become Jewish in their religious practices, most notably by circumcision. Paul pleads with them to return to the true gospel. His concern over their being misled is much bigger than a ceremonial rite. To believe what they are preaching is to abandon the gospel.

What Paul understood is what we need to understand. The Gospel is a message about God…not about us. The Gospel tells us how God reconciles us to Him, not how we reconcile ourselves to God. God comes to us and we have only to respond in belief.

Paul renounces the law as an avenue to salvation. This is no ordinary statement. It is a theological declaration of great magnitude. Works have nothing to do with righteousness. Only faith in Jesus Christ can result in salvation. Circumcision and other ritualistic practices of the Jews were just another attempt by men to produce worthy works as an avenue to salvation. Such practices were a stumbling block to understanding the real gospel.

My father forgave me a lot of indiscretions.  As I look back over the things I did and didn’t do growing up, there were many times where only the love of a parent could condone my actions. Forgiveness almost always came quickly. Of course there was punishment. Saying you’re sorry doesn’t do away with the crime or the sin. It just puts you back on the right road again. Even when forgiveness comes quickly, there is still the price to pay for the deed. But as I walked down the path of fatherhood, I finally began to understand the depth of caring and love that my parents had given to me. I never deserved it. I never earned it. It was their gift to me. I passed it on as best I could to my own children. God is like that with his children. That’s why he came up with justification. He cares that much about us.

The book of James, written by the half-brother of Jesus, the leader of the Jerusalem church, was circulating then and it suggested a relationship between faith and works that might seem to have been at odds with Paul’s thought expressed in Galatians. James stated that faith without works was not faith at all. Paul said that we are justified by faith alone. But works for Paul was the evidence of the love that faith inevitably fostered. Galatians actually amplified, rather than challenged, James’ thought. In such way, these two views come together rather than separate.

In today’s passage, Verse 16 is a collection of threes. The terms “justified” and “faith” and the phrase “works of the law” are each used three times. “Justify” is first and it is mostly a Pauline term. It appears thirty five times in the NT and twenty seven belong to Paul. Justified or made right (righteousness) is not a thing earned or made. It is, rather, imputed or declared; in this case by God.   Paul maintains that justification is the gift of God earned not by us, but by Christ. Christ earned it and we are the beneficiaries.

“Works of law” is the second term.  It is used eight times in Paul’s letters, always with justification and typically in contrast with faith.   Here, it seems to point toward all of the Old Testament law, at least the Mosaic Law. That’s pretty big, but the concept is much bigger. This is not just a doctrine for the Jews but for all. Indeed, if Paul were writing today, he might shorten the term to simply “works,” as opposed to faith.

Third in this speech of threes is “faith,” specifically faith in Jesus Christ. We might use it interchangeably here with belief.  This is God’s method for salvation. Faith is the key to justification. Theologian Philip Ryken puts it simply: “How does a person get right with God? Not by keeping God’s law, but by trusting in Jesus Christ.”  

          Paul says we must be crucified with Christ. How do we do this? By living a life of faith in Christ.  This is how a believer is born again. We share death—death to the old order—death to the law—and resurrection to new life, with Christ as the operative power.  The old life in the body, or flesh, or law—is our weakness. Although Christ has told us that the old has passed away, we are not yet fully ushered into the kingdom. This verse is a mirror into the already, but not yet. The kingdom of God has already come, but it is not complete until Christ comes again. The language here becomes very personal. Paul talks about Christ who loves “me,” who gave himself “for me.”  It is no longer ethnic identity or legalism, but relationship with God’s Son that matters, that defines. 

At the end of this passage, Paul restates the case. God’s grace cannot be set aside. To do so would be to return to the law as the basis for salvation. To do that would be to say that Christ’s death was unnecessary, indeed, that Christ died for nothing. But the verdict is in. We are justified, not because of ourselves or our deeds, but because of Christ.

If the law were essential to salvation, if we needed works to save us, then what is the cross all about? Why else would the Son of God go to that end unless to save man? Why else was he sent? Righteousness cannot be through the law or Christ’s death was for nothing. If it is as Paul says and as we believe, that justification is by faith in Jesus Christ, then Christ’s death and the cross mean everything to us. Tim Keller says it this way: “Christ will do everything for you, or nothing. You cannot combine merit and grace. If justification is by the law in any way, Christ’s death is meaningless in history and meaningless to you personally.”  

How to achieve right standing with God was the question.  Paul was not interested in boundary markers or ethnic distinctives then any more than we should be today. There are no entitlements, no birthrights.  It is the hard truth that goodness and accomplishments have no shelf life; indeed, they have no relevance when it comes not only to salvation, but also to living in faith. They are God’s accomplishments and they are God’s gift to us. These are tenets which set Christianity apart from other religions. Justification by faith is a call to make a personal commitment to Jesus Christ.  We are totally reliant upon God and our good works are simply acts of love given back to our Savior. Paul used the law itself to show it could not get us home by paraphrasing Psalm 143:2: “because by works of the law, no one will be justified.”

The door of life opens to all who would believe in Christ and accept him as their personal Savior. Christ alone is that door. It will always be about the Cross. This is the true gospel. This is Paul’s message to us. We are justified only by our faith in the One who died for us. By God’s grace we are saved through faith. It is just as if we had not sinned.

DON'T CRY (Luke 7: 11-17) 6/9/13

            In his early ministry, Jesus has drawn big crowds as he performs miracle after miracle. Early on, he heals the slave of a Gentile Centurion without even going to the site. The point of the miracle is to demonstrate the great faith of a believer and that such faith could come from the ranks of those qualified only by that faith.  After this miracle, Jesus leaves Capernaum and goes about a day’s journey to a town called Nain, which lay a few miles southeast of Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth. Near the town gate, Jesus encounters a funeral procession. A man had died. He was the only son of a widow who survived him. The man must have been a decent sort, as much of the town was with the woman as they carried out the body. The funeral cortege has already gone through the town. This is where Jesus saw her and the procession. The customary burial place would have been outside the town gates. To this day, about ten minutes walk from Nain on the road to Endor, there is a cemetery of rock tombs in which the dead are laid. Luke says he had compassion on her and said to her “Do not weep.”

          Like most stories in Scripture, we only get a capsule summary of an event and this is no exception. In first century Israel, the loss of an only son by a widow was a devastating blow. Women were not allowed to inherit property. Whatever she had from her marriage had gone to her son and now he was dead. He was probably not only her support; he was also by far the most sympathetic property owner she would know, for he was her son. With no husband and no sons, the property would revert to some male heir and she would quite probably become destitute. Did Jesus figure out all this from his momentary observation of the funeral procession? Perhaps he did, for such was the customary lot of widows in first century Israel. Perhaps that knowledge played a part in his feelings. We cannot know from the passage. What we can know is that Jesus felt compassion. He wanted to help. He was not asked. He just stepped up and intervened. He told the widow: “Don’t cry.”

          Don’t cry. How many times have you said that to a child or grandchild or spouse? Don’t cry. What does it mean when we say it? We are reaching out, trying to bring calm and reassurance to some situation. A child is injured and cries from pain. A young husband or wife goes off to deployment and the spouse is left behind. Someone dies and someone else survives. Don’t cry, we say. It will be all right, we say. How do we know it will be all right? What does it mean when we say…Don’t cry? How can we really help?

          That’s what Jesus said and he knew exactly what he meant. He meant that death was about to be conquered by the Son of God. He meant that he did not need to turn back time. He could just reverse what had happened, even if that event was death itself. Three times in Scripture, Jesus restores the dead to life. There is Jairus’ daughter and there is the famous story of Jesus’ friend Lazarus. But this is the first time. Jesus has up to this time performed great miracles, but this time…this time he is performing the ultimate miracle. Only God can raise the dead back to life. Only the Messiah is capable of such a miracle.

          We say “don’t cry” and part of what we are saying is that this too will pass. We say it because it hurts us to watch others hurt and we want it to stop. We say it because sometimes we know that it is a small thing and it will be okay in a while. We say it because we care. Lots of the time, we say it because we believe it. That is, we believe that whatever is wrong will be handled by the God we try to trust. It is our back door way of saying “Trust in God. He is there for you.” When Jesus said “Don’t cry,” he didn’t mean any of these things. He meant he was going to fix it, even if death was the problem.

          Luke tells us that Jesus came up and touched the bier. A bier was not a coffin. It was something used to transport the body to the grave, very often a long wicker-work basket. In ancient Israel, the dead were entombed rather than buried in the ground. More importantly than the mode of burial was Jesus’ action, He touched the bier. This made him ceremonially unclean. This would have stopped the procession. While Jesus was not concerned with ritualism, he did want to get everyone’s attention. He was about to perform a miracle that left no doubt of his identity; this was the Promised One. So Jesus, as he was wont to do, broke the rules of ceremony in order to reveal the keys to the kingdom. Sure enough, Luke tells us that the bearers…the pall-bearers to us, stood still.

          In all those times when you have tried to console your child or friend, in all those times when you reached out to hug…when the words were either insufficient or gone…think about how wonderful it would have been if you really had the power to fix what was bad. Imagine if when you said “Don’t cry,” you knew you could right the wrong or effect the cure. As it is, we reach out in love to show our support, hoping that we may be of some help. We reach out in the hope that we may comfort, and that is a good thing. But Jesus had something much deep in mind.

          Jesus says to the corpse: “Arise, young man.” The man sat up and began to speak. To put that in contemporary English, that’s “proof of life.” Luke says Jesus delivered him to his mother. In 1^st Kings 17, a story is told of the healing by Elijah of a widow’s son. When the miracle is accomplished, the Scripture says the Elijah delivered him to his mother, the exact words used in this passage about Jesus.

The reaction of the people is typical. Everyone is scared, and everyone is also glorifying God. The people call Jesus a great prophet and word spreads like wildfire all over the country. Some have argued that Jesus triggered an awakening from a cataleptic seizure rather than an awakening from death. Does it really matter? The history books are riddled with stories of people being buried alive. Jesus saved this man’s life. Is the miracle any less? Luke says the man was raised from the dead in front of a town full of witnesses. That will do nicely for me.

          This is the first of three different times in the gospels that our Savior raised someone from the dead. Three times, Jesus said to those who could hear, showed those who could see, that he was not just a great teacher, nor was he a great prophet of the magnitude of Elijah, to which this story has many parallels. Jesus was more. He was much more. Here was evidence of who he really is! He was even more than Messiah. He was and is the Son of God and he carries the power of God within his compassionate hands.

          Can you relate to the woman here? How many times has he come to your rescue without you even getting the chance to invoke your prayer for him? You have found him already there, already interacting with you, reaching out in compassion, for you are one of his children. Jesus knows who you are, where you live, what you think and, most importantly, what and whom you need. He wants you to communicate with him, but he is already intimately engaged in your life.

On that day long ago in Nain, Jesus felt compassion for a child of the kingdom, actually two of them. He restored a man to life. He also restored a widow’s hope for her future and the love of her life in her son. For the people there and for us as we ponder these things, he gives a sign. When Jesus says to us, whether through Scripture or through prayer or through the words of one of his children: “Don’t cry,” it’s not just an utterance of words of comfort. It’s an invocation.    We are invited to partake in the hope that comes from God’s power, from God’s compassion.

Jesus is able to fix it, no matter the size of the problem. We just have to believe it. His miracles are evident all around us. Don’t cry! Arise! If you just stop, look and listen, you’ll find him already there… waiting for you.

Faith Knows No Fences (Luke 7: 1-10) 6/2/13

            In the fourth chapter of Luke, Jesus goes down to Capernaum, a city on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. He performs many mighty acts in that area. In the sixth chapter he goes out to a mountain to pray. According to Luke, the next morning he chooses the twelve apostles from among those disciples following him. He goes down to a level place and preaches the Beatitudes to the large crowd gathered there. Soon afterward, he goes out to cities and villages proclaiming the good news and performing more mighty acts in testimony to his identity. In between these events, he performs three miracles. He raises a widow’s son from the dead, he forgives the sins of a sinful woman and he heals a Centurion’s slave.

          The three miracles in Chapter seven of Luke are important just because they are miracles performed by our Savior and recorded in the Gospel of Luke. But, like everything in the Word of God, there are more reasons than might first meet the eye that these stories survive the editor’s cut. What is special about these three stories sandwiched in between Jesus’ evangelistic ministry to large crowds?

          First, these miracles are done for the insignificant among us. All Jesus’ miracles have an element of dealing and uplifting the disenfranchised, but these three stories seem to be even more in that vein than usual. Jesus’ targets are the slave of a Gentile, the son of a widow and a fallen woman. These people are practically invisible. The Centurion had stature in the community, but his slave was nothing more than a piece of property. The son might grow to be someone, but the only son of a widow? What real chance did he have to make a mark in the world? A woman of the city had no credentials other than bad ones. These people were the unnoticed even while they were going about their daily lives.

          The stories are about faith…faith that exists at the edge of darkness…faith that bursts forth when there is no reason to have it…faith that perseveres when there would seem to be no more reason for its existence. These are the stories of people who hope beyond hope, believe in the middle of unbelief. These are stories which, as they played out in front of Jesus, touched him as he witnessed…acknowledged, the kind of faith he had been preaching and looking for. Jesus had commenced his ministry and was delighted to find those who were willing to live by faith.

          Commencement is one of those funny words. We hear it most often in conjunction with graduation exercises of one sort or another. We or our sons or daughters graduate from high school or trade school or college and we attend commencement exercises where they are recognized. We hear speeches and we celebrate. Finished! Graduated! Well, yes, but that’s not what commencement means. Commencement means the beginning! Commencement is most noteworthy for marking a point of beginning.  A point of beginning, by its very nature, also marks the end of something. How else could you begin had you not finished something? And yet, the emphasis of commencement, if we are to honor that which the word describes, is all about where we are going, not where we have been.

          Today, we honor those of our number  undergoing commencement exercises. They are moving on. Something has been finished, and something is about to begin. The story of Jesus in these opening chapters of Luke is no different. Jesus has finished thirty years of maturing. He has been baptized by his cousin John in the presence of witnesses and his heavenly Father. He has undergone forty days in the wilderness preparing himself for the experiences to come. He has commenced. His early ministry is underway.

In the passage at hand, we learn very early in Jesus’ ministry that faith is the switch that turns him on. In the story about the Centurion, we watch Jesus sought by a Gentile, a person until this point outside the scope of Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus does not hesitate to help. It does not matter to Jesus that the seeker comes from the other side of the tracks. It is unimportant to him the pedigree of the patient. All that matters is that the person has faith in Jesus, that he or she acknowledges Jesus as the Son of God.  That will take Jesus to some strange places. The places Jesus will go are both beautiful and ugly, down the road and right next door. The places Jesus will go are driven by a desire for service and obedience, not by ambition and self.

           “Oh, The Places You’ll Go.” was first published just a year before Dr. Seuss’s death at the age of eighty seven.  It was only fifty six pages, and only that long because of the very few words on each boldly illustrated page. Yet it contains some of the best advice outside of the Bible. It has been given out by teachers, principals and university presidents as a graduation present. It is highly read because it is highly truthful. In that respect, it makes a good companion for the Bible. The Bible makes a good companion for Dr. Seuss’s book, too, because the book says nothing about faith, and the Bible is all about faith. Dr. Seuss’s guarantee of 98 and ¾ percent is great, but Christians do even better.  Christians know, and learn even more clearly on their journey through life, that faith is the missing ingredient. Put it in the pie of life and you have the feast you’ve been looking for. Omit it and your life will be lived in frustration. You will never experience the joy that comes with faith.

          The Centurion had that kind of faith. In Luke’s gospel, curiously, Jewish friends are sent as the Centurion’s ambassadors, saying that he is worthy of help. The gospel of Matthew has the Centurion himself coming out to meet Jesus [Mt. 8: 5 et seq.]. Either way, Jesus commits to help. Before he can arrive, the Centurion sends friends to say that Jesus need not come; that his authority and power are sufficient to accomplish the task by willing it so. Now, Jesus is impressed. Now Jesus has gone somewhere new. Jesus has seen true faith.

Oddly for us as we read of this, that abiding, overwhelming faith comes not from a religious leader, not from a Jew, not even from a disciple. That faith comes from a Gentile stranger. Don’t we wish that we would see evidence of that faith from inside the church, or at least from inside our own circles of friends!

On that day in that place, the Savior of mankind commenced his ministry to the Gentiles. He taught that faith has no fences. He came after those who would believe, not those who presented birth certificates and other credentials of authenticity.

          Oh, the places Jesus went! He went to the religious leaders. He went to the Holy City. He went to the rivers and the mountains and the hamlets and the cities. He ate with the hated and drank with the outcasts. In the end, he traveled far beyond the geography of his life. His story is called the New Testament. He is the living Word of God and shows us still the way for us to go.

Now that these young people have graduated, they are going to commence their journeys. I remember my first graduation. It was from high school… a few years ago. As was the custom, my class donated something to the high school as a remembrance. It was the seal of our school and it was etched into the tile floor at the school’s entrance. The motto engraved upon it was this: “A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step.”  I offer that thought to you graduates today. As you commence that which comes next in your life, be it job or school or military or some other adventure, take a step. That’s the way you begin journeys, big and small. As Dr. Seuss said:

          You have brains in your head.

          You have feet in your shoes.

          You can steer yourself

any direction you choose.

You’re on your own. And you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

As you go, as you commence this next chapter of life, remember those who love you. Remember you are not alone. Remember that if you will let him, your Savior will mark every step of that journey with you.  And, for God’s sake, take the faith of that Centurion with you as your guide. He knew that Jesus could fix anything, even from a distance. He had faith in the power and authority of the Son of God and his faith was rewarded. His slave was healed and Jesus never even saw him.  If you take that kind of faith with you on your journey, you will succeed. And that’s 100% guaranteed!