Speak And It Will Be
Luke 7:1-10
Sermon
by Maxie Dunnam

Somewhere along the way I saw a cartoon which showed a man kneeling beside his bed saying his prayers. "God," he says, "is there any way you can help me and make it look like I did it myself?"

We chuckle at that. Maybe the reason we don't laugh out loud is that it strikes close home. We are always playing tug of war with ourselves, our identity and worthiness. Assessing who we are and what is important to us is an operational need of all of us.

Our scripture lesson tells the story of how people understand worthiness -- how they look at what it is that makes a person worthy. It is the story of a people's perception of a man and his own perception of himself.

That's where I want us to center our reflection. What makes a person worthy? Or, how do you judge a person's worthiness?

I.

The first is an estimate of worthiness that comes from judging outward signs. The elders of the Jews wanted Jesus to know that the Centurion was worthy of his attention. What made him so? "He loves our nation," they said. "And he built us a synagogue."

Now this was quite remarkable for that day -- that a centurion, a Gentile -- would be friends with the Jews. The rule of the day was not love and respect, but rather hatred and contempt between Jews and Gentiles.

But these Jews felt good about the Centurion-- they measured his worthiness on the basis of what he did for them. Their measurement had to do with outward signs.

Now here is what we need to wrestle with. There is a sense in which a person is what he or she does. Think about that for a moment. There is a sense in which a person is what he or she does. You remember that old anonymous poem entitled "How Do You Live."

Listen to it:I'd rather see a sermon than to hear one any day;I'd rather one walk with me than just to show the way.The eyes a better pupil and more willing than the ear;Advice may be misleading but an example's always clear.And the very best of preachers are the men who live their creeds.For to see good put into action is what everybody needs.

I soon can learn to do it if you will let me see it done;I can watch your hands in motion but your tongue too fast may run.And the lectures you deliver may be very fine and true.But I'd rather get my lessons by observing what you do.

For I may misunderstand the fine advice you give,But there's no misunderstanding how you act and how you live.

A friend of mine tells of some of the best advice he ever got from his grandmother. There had been a great revival out in the country church of his childhood. It was a Pentecostal type experience. A lot of persons witnessed to changed lives. There was shouting and singing and glorious celebration.

The grandmother heard all of this and observed it, and when she was reflecting with her grandson about it, she made this observation: "Son, it's not how high you jump, but how you walk when you hit the ground again."

There is a marked sense in which we are what we do, and I'm going to talk more about that next Sunday.

But here is the place we are likely to err -- to think that our worthiness in God's sight is dependent upon what we do or what we achieve. That was the basis of the Jewish elders' appeal to Jesus on behalf of the centurion...to consider him worthy because of what he had done for them.

If this becomes our basis for worthiness -- what we do and what we achieve -- then we are reducing religion to a barter system, and that's not what the Christian faith is all about. We don't barter with God for a place in relation to Him or a place in His Kingdom by our actions by what we do. It's all a matter of grace from his direction. None of us are worthy of that grace. We can't be good enough. We can't do good enough. So, while there is a sense in which we are what we do, we are never to think that worthiness in God's sight is dependent upon what we do or what we achieve.

II.

That brings us to another consideration -- the Centurion's self-perception of worthiness. Other people considered him worthy because of outward signs; he saw himself from the inside, and that's what made the difference.

We get a good picture of him in verse 6. Listen to a portion of that verse: "The centurion sent friends to say to (Jesus), "Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof."

Now, that was not just a put-on. Listen to verse 7: "Therefore I did not presume to come to you." What a picture. The centurion did not even feel worthy to come to Jesus, but here we have one of the most revealing sections of the scripture -- a challenging understanding of who Christ is, and a right estimate of ourselves. Let me read some of the text again, beginning with verse 7:

"Therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the servant and let my servant be healed. For 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."

The Centurion was expressing an understanding of Jesus that is rare, coming from any of those who surrounded Jesus at any time.

He knew that Jesus had the power and the authority to do anything he wished to do. "Speak the word," he said, "and my servant will be healed."

Now this is not just my perception of the centurion. Listen to verse 9: "When 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.'"

Here is a radical expression of trust -- total trust. The centurion did not feel he was worthy of Jesus' attention, but he trusted Jesus.

Now, here is a clue for us. What difference would it make in your life and mine if we had the kind of faith that the centurion had -- a faith that was so simple and deep, that it would affirm "Speak and it will be so."

What difference would that kind of faith make in our lives?

Some of you are out of a job -- I know some of you are trusting Christ -- you are not simply waiting for something to happen -- you are doing everything you can, but you are staying strong. You are remaining bold. You still vibrate with hope -- because you believe that Christ is with you in all of life. Trust like that makes a difference.

Some of you are struggling to stay together in a marriage. I wonder, have you struggled together with a mutual commitment to Christ. I believe that most of the marriages that fail would not fail if husband and wife would struggle together with a mutual commitment to Christ, and trust him to work in their relationship.

Some of you have a wayward child. How long has it been -- a year, two years, three years. You wonder if that wayward child is going to ever return. I hope you do not hear it as a superficial word. There are countless people in this congregation, seated all around you today who have walked that same road for years. Some of them can witness to you that their trust has been fulfilled and rewarded. Prodigal sons and daughters are home again. What a difference it would make in handling that kind of situation within your family if your trust in Christ was comparable to that of the centurion. Speak the word and it will be so.

Some of you are wrestling with illness -- physical illness. Oh, I know that Jesus doesn't heal all people, and all prodigals don't come home. I'm just asking us, what difference it would make if our faith came near that of the centurion. Speak the word and it will be so.

Ultimately, that really is the identity and the worthiness issue -- not how we appear on the outside -- but what's going on inside, and how deep is our trust.

The Broadway musical, "Godspell", has many wonderful scenes in it -- many moving, dramatic moments. One of my favorites is that scene toward the end where Jesus is with his disciples in The Upper Room. He takes a bucket of water, a rag, and a mirror, and he goes to the disciples each in turn, and he washes away their clown faces. They had all been painted up as clowns. Then he holds the mirror up in front of them to let them see themselves as they really are, and then He hugs them. The point is clear and powerful. They didn't have to wear false faces. They didn't have to hide their inadequacies. Nor do we. We don't have to play pretend anymore. God loves and accepts us just as we are.

What a word -- what a picture -- what a model we have in the centurion -- "I'm not worthy, even to come to you -- but speak the word and it will be so."

Let me close with this. Her name was Mary. She was a wonderful woman, a good woman -- a happy and positive woman. Then, something happened about five years that took all the life out of her being and all the wind out of her sail.

A preacher friend tells the story. "She and her husband were down at Lake Murray (in Oklahoma) one weekend waterskiing with their three children. And it so happened on this occasion that Mary was driving the boat and pulling her young seven-year- old son Scott on the ski's behind. He was a good skiier, but a big wave rolled by and he took a tumble in the lake and Mary circled back to pick him up. Well, Scott decided that he had had enough, that it was time for him to get out of the lake. But then it happened. As he was pulling himself on board in the back, Mary accidentally hit the throttle with her elbow in such a way that the boat went into reverse. And, yes, young Scott was knocked off and got caught in the propeller. And when they got him out a few minutes later, he was so chewed up that he was already in critical condition. They rushed him to the hospital in Ardmore, and they waited and waited for some word from the doctors in surgery. And after they were there for more than two hours, finally the doctor came out and said, "I'm sorry, but Scott didn't make it."

Can you imagine that? Put yourself in Mary's shoes, and just imagine how she must have felt. Awful! Just awful! She had to be hospitalized for a couple of weeks because she simply could not function; and even after she was released from the hosptial, she was still in a state of shock and dismay. You could tell it by looking at the lifeless expression on her face and in her eyes.

Well, one day, a couple of months later, she went by to visit with the minister of her church one morning. She was in such inner anguish that she couldn't bear to live with the pain anymore. She had even thought of suicide because she couldn't see any way to get rid of her horrible guilt. But an interesting thing happened in her minister's office that day. At one point, she said, "I can't go on like this any more. I don't deserve to live. I deserve to die. I just can't forgive myself."

And do you know what her minister said. He said, "You're right. You're absolutely right. You cannot forgive yourself at all, and you will never be able to do so."

Well, Mary looked at him with the most puzzled expression on her face. She didn't expect to hear those words at all, and certainly not coming from her own minister.

"What do you mean?", she said. "What do you mean that I can't forgive myself? Never?"

And do you know what he said. He said, "That's right, Mary, never. You will never be able to forgive yourself at all." He paused for a moment and then said, "But, you can receive God's forgiveness, and that, Mary, will set you free." (Norman Neaves, "You Cannot Forgive Yourself").

So, it doesn't matter what the issue is -- the answer is trust -- trust Christ because only Christ can do for us what needs to be done. If we can move to that point of deep faith, and join the centurion in that affirmation, "Speak the word and it will be so," the mountains will be moved in our lives; the valleys will be lifted up; we will receive the strength to cross over the river, and we will make it -- we will make it.

Maxie Dunnam, by Maxie Dunnam