Reading Luke Together #22: Value and Worth
We can discern something telling about Luke’s strategy, his way of piecing together stories he’s learned about Jesus, in chapter 7. In Capernaum there is a centurion, a military commander of great authority, who had “a slave whom he valued highly.” We pause right there for a moment. He had a slave. Not good! – but having one back then would have made him the envy of everyone but the richest. “A slave whom he valued highly.” As an individual? Or his capacity to be productive and loyal?
But this highly valued slave “was ill and close to death.” The centurion had “heard about Jesus.” Everybody had! But he’d not come out yet to listen, much less to follow! But now his need is great, so “he sent” other to him, “asking him to come and heal his slave.” A man with authority who can “send” and “ask.”
I love the spin the messengers put on his request! “They appealed to Jesus earnestly, saying ‘He is worthy of having you do this for him.’” Because he is a man of great importance and power? Yes, but there’s more: “He built our synagogue for us.” He’s wealthy, and generous, building the whole synagogue for the Jewish citizens of Capernaum – the remains of which we still visit today. To them, he’s earned the privilege of a healing – revealing their lingering confusion about what Jesus is up to.
Jesus though always has compassion, apart from merit or standing or worldly influence – and so he goes. The centurion heard he was coming and again sent messengers – but this time with his own words, not the viewpoint of others. Not “I built the synagogue, so I expect you to heal my valued slave,” but rather “I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; I did not presume to come to you.” Jesus was, understandably, “amazed at him.” It’s his humility; the centurion understands what the messengers missed. Mercy and healing aren’t deserved or earned. It’s all gift. His sense of being unworthy is a clue to how our true worth is now to be measured: not in achievements or standing, but in humble hopefulness, in being a recipient of sheer mercy.
And so Jesus heals the slave. Jesus would have a special place in his heart for slaves, and dared in his first sermon (Luke 4:16-30) to suggest they should be liberated! Did Jesus urge this humble centurion to release him from his bondage?
Luke then picks up a very different story: “Soon afterwards” (so not merely by the clock, but in the heart of God!) Jesus saw a dead man being carried out of town. He learned that “he was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow.” Tough in our day – but in those days, that would have meant she faced a future of utter poverty – the antithesis of the centurion! No one speaks up for her; she hadn’t built anything for anybody; she was not valued by society. But Jesus “had compassion for her,” and spoke to the dead man: “I say to you, rise!” “He sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.” Imagine the shock, the joy, relief, tears, embraces.
Why does Luke clamp these two stories together? Clearly we see now that the healing, hope, mercy and salvation Jesus brings is for all. And since it’s Luke telling the story, we might want to fast forward to volume 2 of Luke’s narrative: the book of Acts. Chapter 16 tells us about a wealthy woman, Lydia, and then a slave girl, and then the jailer, all of whom are healed and converted to new life. Great!
But there’s far more. Verse 40, like an unexpected thunderbolt, reveals to us that Lydia, being the wealthy one, opened her home – and it became the first church in Philippi. And who came? The rich, the ex-slaves, and the middle class jailers and others who also followed Jesus. A new community, crossing all social boundaries. What did her wealthy neighbors think? Slaves – in our neighborhood? This kind of things just didn’t happen in the ancient world – and it does not happen much in ours either. But it is Jesus’ way. Did he hope that centurion and his slave – hopefully his ex-slave! – befriend the widow and her son? Luke doesn’t say, and we can’t know. But we can dream.