Since we began using the new translation in November, I
have been anticipating hearing this Gospel passage as it connects with the
phrase we say at communion. We know they wanted an exact strict translation
that was faithful to original sources. It is disappointing to know that the
translation committee did not get it right. We say "only say the word and
my soul shall be healed" while scripture reads "only say the word and
my servant shall be healed." Go figure.
We see two important aspects of the centurion: Commendably,
he is a man deeply concerned for the welfare of his servant and he is a great
example of a type of faith we are to profess in Jesus. He recognizes the power
of the word of Jesus, yet most of us do not have this level of trust in Jesus. While
he is an excellent model for some, other models exist. Perhaps wrongly, but he
reminds me of the antiquated, "pray, pay, and obey" model of
discipleship. I am uneasy that the Centurion holds Jesus at bay. He keeps him
apart from his life. He asks him not to come into his house because he
acknowledges that his word alone is powerful enough to even raise the dead to
life. He knows that the will of Jesus is stronger than his own desires and that
what he wants is less important. I want more than that.
What we want is very important to Jesus because he is
trying to get ever closer to us. Yes, it is true that we are unworthy to have
him enter our world, but this is the reason he comes into our lives - to come
to know our messy, unmanageable, chaotic, secret-filled, train-wrecked lives. Many
times I hear a person say at the beginning of retreat, "I just want to
know and to do God's will. God's will be done, not mine." It is a laudable
aspiration, but we can't sit there passively and wait for God to willy-nilly
decide to come down from his heavenly throne and meagerly grant our selfish
unimportant requests. This is not the God Jesus reveals to us. Jesus wants us
to tell him what we need and want. The Centurion does this. Peter does it for
his mother-in-law. The crowds do it so they can be healed. Jesus wants what the
Centurion wants. He wants the Centurion's servant to live - just as he wants us
to live.
I liken the way we approach God to the way I once requested
things of my mother. When I was thirteen, I would ask my mother the same
question during the summer, "Mom, can I go to the beach?"
"No," she replied. I went off and stewed. The next day, the same
question and answer, and more stewing. The following day, the same routine. Frustrated,
we were both unhappy with each other. Finally, my mother said, "Jack, if
you keep asking me, I'll keep saying 'no,' but if you tell me where you are
going, who will be with you, when you are returning, and that you have time to
do your chores, we'll be able to give each other what we need." I tried it
the next day with astonishing results. I was so happy and because I had given
my word, I kept my end of the bargain. My needs and my mother's were amazingly
respected. The conversations were maturing and mutual. We communicated
effectively.
The way we talk with others is the way we talk with God,
and we need to always improve the many ways we communicate to be more
effective. We are to do the same with God. If we sit and wait for the remote,
transcendent, ethereal will of God to mysteriously descend from heaven, we will
sit and wait a long time. If we ask God open-ended questions that no human
could ever answer, we ought not expect God to answer them. We get somewhere if
we say to God something like this, "Here is what I'm thinking. This is
what I choose and intend to do. I think it is a pretty good plan because it
respects others and addresses my desires. If you are not O.K. with it, I'm sure
you will let me know. I know, O God, that you can speak up for yourself."
We respect each others' mutuality.
Ignatius tells us God gives us our desires and we are to
act upon them if they are for God's greater glory. We, who are on retreat, are
by nature caring and helpful people. By asking for what we need will bring us
into greater balance because we are more inclined to give to others. In other
words, it is not selfish to ask for what we need and want. In fact, it is
healthy. Would Jesus have healed the Centurion's slave if he wasn't made away
of the servant's condition? Ask for what you want in prayer and at the close
also ask, "Did you give me what I asked for?" God is very generous
and Jesus promises that if we ask God for anything in his name, God will listen
to us and grant our desires.
On this feast of martyrs, we cannot help but look at the
grave suffering many people experienced. The centurion suffered for his ill
servant, Peter was moved with concern for his mother-in-law; crowds of sick
people and those possessed by demons sought out the healing word of Jesus. The
author of Lamentations implores the suffering people of Zion to cry out to the
Lord. Moan, and let your tears flow like a torrent day and night. Let your
petitions be known to the Lord, who alone can fulfill the words of the prophet
Isaiah: "He took away our infirmities and bore our diseases."
Tell your story to Jesus. Invite him into it. Tell him
again so you know you are seen and heard and known by him. We know that he
wants to enter our messy lives because his heart is always moved by our
stories. How can it not be? He will stand in compassionate solidarity with you
and will grace you with his healing words of an intimate love. "Lord, it
is true. I am not worthy, but please do. Enter. My house is messy, but come
under my roof and spend time with me. I need you. I want you. I trust that you
will give me what I want and need. Thank you."