Those of us ministers actively engaged in congregational worship don't get many opportunities to visit other churches and to worship in different settings. We're pretty much committed to being in our own congregations for the better part of the year. Four or six Sundays at most is about all we have to experience how others go about it.
Actually, this pattern begins for most of us even before we're ordained. A colleague related that in divinity school he was a youth minister and only got a couple of Sundays off during the school year. He tried to make the most of every opportunity to visit prominent congregations in the area. Even though it's been more than forty years, he vividly recalled the first congregational visit he made. The service had just begun in this beautiful, historic New England meeting house. The minister got up and extended the welcome to those who were visiting. It was a greeting he's never forgotten. "We are glad that you are here. We have been here in this place for a long time. If you are of like mind and temperament, you may find yourself welcome. We know our faults. But in spite of them, we still try to be an outpost of the kingdom of God." Maybe the pastor was just having a bad day, or had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. But if this was his usual way of speaking to visitors, it struck my colleague as odd. On the positive side, he was trying to see things from the visitor's viewpoint. He was brutally honest about the congregation. But needless to say, my colleague never went back. Given the limited opportunities for worship, he didn't want to waste it there. Outsiders have a lot to tell us about ourselves. But I'm not sure trying to outguess them is the way to go about it.
I took a sabbatical last year in England, and had several opportunities to encounter how some Brits view Americans. It had to do with 9/11. There was a quiet, but ever present, resentment among the English about how Americans seem to view the September 11 incident as an attack only on the United States. The English lost a lot of young people when the Twin Towers went down, as did many other nations. As they looked at it, September 11 was an attack on the whole western world, not just on America, where it took place. They thought that on the whole, Americans were oblivious to that. There has been an interesting bit of fall out, though. There are many English who have taken to wearing New York Yankees' hats out of respect for the city of New York and how they measured up to the nearly impossible task of making a comeback out of the rubble and rubbish of 9/11.
I also had an embarrassing moment one evening when I went out to eat at a local pub. I found that you never quite know what kind of pub it's going to be when you walk in the door. You have to sort of size it up. Some pubs are very nice, and family oriented; some are dives; and some are rather pricey. This one happened to be the local hangout for university students. It was loud, noisy, filled with smoke, and had people stuffed in the room tighter than sardines in a can. I instantly realized that I did not want to spend a moment longer there. So I headed for the door, evidently pushing a guy as I went by. The student looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Over here we say, ‘Excuse me.' " I was mortified to death to be the typical ugly American. A lesson was learned that evening. You never do know what others have to teach you.
Today's scripture from the Old and New Testaments shows us how wide the circle actually is of those who believe in God. In fact, these scriptures tell us that those outside the faith may have more to say to us than we may think.
The verses from 1 Kings 8 are a part of the story of the dedication of the temple by King Solomon. The community is gathered for the dedication ceremony led by the king himself. The Ark of the Covenant is taken into the sanctuary. God's presence and approval of what was going on is signified by a cloud appearing in the holy of holies, the inner most part of the temple.
The verses from today's scripture are from Solomon's prayer of dedication. Taken together, these verses proclaim God as the one and only true God. "... there is no God like you in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart" (1 Kings 8:23). This part of the prayer recognizes the faith of the insiders, those faithful who make up the community of Israel.
The second part of the prayer goes on to acknowledge that there are those beyond Israel who also recognize God for who God is. "Likewise, when a foreigner who is not of your people comes from a distant land because of your name ... and prays toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place, and do according to all that the foreigner calls to you, so that all peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel ..." (1 Kings 8:41-43).
There's an implicit recognition that while the temple is the central place for worship, the God of Israel also has relationships with people beyond Israel. That is, with non-Jews. The presence of these non-Jews at the temple tells the world how great God really is. In a word, outsiders can demonstrate to the insiders what the insiders have been saying all along: Our God is a great God. The prayer is that there will be a day when people of all nations will worship the God of Israel.
In Luke's story of Jesus healing the centurion's servant, we also see the principle of extending the boundaries at work. Or perhaps, it would be closer to the truth to say that we see the overturning of the conventional way of looking at things. After giving what's called in Luke "The Sermon on the Plain," Jesus enters Capernaum. The town will serve as his base of ministry. We're told that while Jesus is there, there's this centurion who has a slave. It is a slave that he values. But there's one problem. The slave is sick and at the point of death. From that little bit of information, we can glean a lot. Jesus is recognized as a master teacher. Later in the chapter, it's said that, "A great prophet has arisen among us!" (Luke 7:16). Jesus is someone to be reckoned with — as is the centurion. A centurion was a Roman military officer in charge of a company of a hundred men. This man was probably not in charge of all the troops stationed at Capernaum, but he may have been in charge of some in the service of Herod Antipas, the local governor appointed by Rome.
That this man has a slave he values is revealing. Slaves were considered "living tools." Roman owners of slaves could treat them as they saw fit. They could punish them when they wished, and even kill them if they felt like it. Slaves were dispensable. The fact that this man cared enough about his slave to want to save him indicates that this man was a good man, even a compassionate one. So much so that when he heard Jesus was in town, the man went out of his way to see that his servant got the help he needed.
Interestingly, the centurion does not confront Jesus himself with his request. Later, we will find out why, but for now, the man uses the existing network he has with the local Jewish elders to get his wishes accomplished. He uses them to get Jesus to come and heal his slave. These elders are quick to do the centurion's bidding. They lose no time trying to convince Jesus, a Jewish teacher, to heal this slave, a non-Jew. In other words, to heal this outsider. Or in what was probably their evaluation, even less than an outsider, more like a nobody, a slave. The elders' appeal to Jesus is based not on the fact that the slave needs help, but because of the esteem they hold for his master. "He is worthy of having you do this for him, for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us" (Luke 7:4b, 5). A little pressure is put on Jesus to ensure that Jesus will come across with the good deed. It's as if to say, "Jesus, you've got to heal the slave for this centurion, for we owe a great deal to him." We know for a fact that the Romans helped build many Jewish synagogues. The Romans felt it was in their interest to maintain good order and stability in the countryside.
Without so much as a question, Jesus goes with the elders to visit the centurion's house to see what he can do for the slave. "... but when he was not far off 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; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed' " (Luke 7:6b, 7). The invitation is none other than for Jesus to heal the boy indirectly and from a distance.
Now the centurion appeals to what he judges to be a common bond that he and Jesus share.
"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" (Luke 7:8). The centurion knows how Jesus must feel inside, being a man of authority himself. He is quite clear that he knows what it means to be under authority and to exercise it himself. He knows how to take orders and how to give them, something he feels that he and Jesus have in common.
When Jesus hears this, he turns to the crowd and says, "I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith" (Luke 7:9). Luke concludes the story with some crucial information. When the centurion's friends return home, they find the slave to be in good health.
What on the surface looks like a story about healing, turns out to be a story about faith, the extraordinary faith of an outsider. It's what I like to call the message in the miracle.
I find the contrasts in the story particularly enlightening. The Jewish elders judge the slave worthy of treatment. Jesus agrees, but for a different reason. The elders think Jesus should heal the boy because of the generosity of the centurion. But Jesus is willing to heal the boy because of the centurion's own personal faith and trust. The centurion shows himself to be one who trusts Jesus to heal his servant, even from a distance. The Roman officer does not feel he's worthy of having Jesus in his home. Actually, it's out of deep respect for Jesus that he does not want Jesus to enter his house. The centurion knows that for Jesus, a Jew, to enter the house of a Gentile, it would mean Jesus would instantly become contaminated or unclean. For this reason Jesus says, "I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith." Evidently, even Jesus was surprised to find such faith and compassion in an outsider like this Roman military man.
What can outsiders teach us? For one, they can teach us that we don't have a corner on the market. Whether it's in the church or in the world at large, because of all the power and wealth we have, Americans can get to feeling that we know it all and are the point of it all. But there are people of faith outside as well as inside the church. There are British men and women who are just as devastated by 9/11 as we Americans are.
Secondly, in much the same manner, we can learn from those outside that we are not the only ones God loves. I think of my aunt, Bessie Cartwright. Though not actually my aunt, she had the same name, and as she was a member of our church she adopted me, and asked me to call her "Aunt Bessie." One day, Aunt Bessie became quite concerned about her next-door neighbor who happened to be Jewish. Aunt Bessie was never one to let go of an idea once it entered her head. She always had to act on it. So she called up her neighbor on the phone and said, "Can I come over sometime and tell you about my Jesus?" Her neighbor replied, "Yes, if you will let me tell you about my God." Well, the day came when they had their religious conversation, each taking turns. Afterward, Aunt Bessie told me about it. She said, "You know, the more she talked about her God, the more her God seemed to be a lot like my Jesus." Aunt Bessie never tried that again. She and her neighbor remained good friends for as long as Aunt Bessie lived. That was the day she found that an outsider had a lot to teach her.
For us, here at the church, I think there's another small lesson that we can learn. Maybe it's not so little after all. Jesus treated the centurion no differently than he did the Jewish elders. He respected them both. He listened to what they each had to say, and he acted accordingly. In a word, he treated the centurion like he was already an insider. And in the process, Jesus healed a hurting boy, a boy who was not even a Jew, not even a Roman, but a slave, a nobody, but in Jesus' eyes, he was a boy who just happened to be a somebody. He was a fellow human being in need of help.
The moment the church stops acting like a club for the like-minded, and begins treating nonmembers the same as members, that's the day the church will really become an outpost for the kingdom of God. And when the church begins to act like this, those outside might just want to come inside.