And when he had entered into Capernaum, a centurion came to him, beseeching him,
Jesus walks into Capernaum, and a Roman officer comes to ask Him for help. Two questions rise at once. Why does this man appear right after Jesus healed a leper from Israel? And why does a Gentile soldier turn to Israel's Messiah?
Matthew never says when this happened. One writer takes that silence as deliberate.
Now we hear a different story. Jesus enters Capernaum. When, we are not told. It had no connection with the story of the leper; but the Holy Spirit puts them together, because it brings in the Gentiles. We have had the Jew set before us in the history of the leper and the gift Moses commanded as a testimony to Israel. But now there is a centurion who comes and tells about his servant; and this brings in a new kind of confession of the Lord altogether. Here there is no touching — no contact with Christ in an outward, bodily way. So this is instead the way the Gentile comes to know Christ.
Another writer says Matthew placed the leper's healing here out of its time order, to set up a contrast.
Guided by the Spirit of God, Matthew does not follow the order of events. He places the miracle after the Sermon on the Mount, though it happened some time earlier. His aim seems to have been to set the low faith of the Jewish sufferer in sharp contrast with the high faith of the Gentile centurion in the verses that follow.
A centurion was a Roman officer, an outsider to Israel.
In Capernaum, a city by the Sea of Galilee, a centurion comes to Jesus. He is a Gentile officer, and he pleads for his servant, who was suffering badly from paralysis. This is a striking picture of the Gentiles in the helplessness of their sin, without hope, without God in the world.
The meeting marks a turn in God's dealings.
The centurion shows in the most striking way how grace goes out to the Gentile. In him was faith such as there was not in Israel. With this comes the revealed change in God's dealings: many from East and West would sit down with the patriarchs in the kingdom of heaven, while the Jews, the natural heirs of it, would find themselves in outer darkness.
Matthew says the centurion came to Jesus. Luke says he sent messengers. Commentators differ on how the two fit. One says both happened, in order:
Some have tried to explain these differences by making the two accounts two different miracles. This is not the case at all. Luke explains Matthew's account more fully. The centurion first sent messengers to our Lord, and afterwards he came to speak to Him in person. Matthew relates the personal interview and Luke the message.
Another takes "came" in the ordinary sense that a man does through others what he asks them to do for him:
Yet the centurion did not present himself to the Lord. He came to Him only in the sense in which we say a man does himself what he does through others.
Going through the Jewish elders was itself an act of faith.
There was no proud claim of having to do only with God and not with man. On the contrary, he shows by his appeal to and use of the Jewish elders how truly he bowed to the ways and will of God. For God had a people, and this Gentile owned them as God's choice, despite their unworthiness. So when he wanted the blessing for his servant, he sent to the elders of the Jews to plead for him with Jesus. To me there seems far more of faith, and of the lowliness which faith produces, than if he had gone personally and alone.
His confidence went beyond asking the Messiah to come to a sickbed.
The centurion assumes the grand truth that Jesus was God (not merely Messiah), and therefore fully able to heal. He looks at Him in a still higher way — not as one whose presence must go with the putting forth of power, but as one who had only to speak the word, and it was done.
Another writer sees that distant healing as a picture of our own day.
The healing of the centurion's servant by His word spoken at a distance shows what is happening at the present time. He is no longer here in person, but His Word is with us, and multitudes of Gentiles are finding blessing through faith in its wonderful message.
- Place — In Capernaum the story turns. The leper stood for Israel and Christ's touch. The centurion brings in the Gentiles.
- Person — A Roman officer, an outsider to Israel, pleads for a paralysed servant. It pictures the Gentiles: helpless in sin, without hope, without God.
- Plea — Matthew says he came; Luke says he sent. Some hold he sent first and came later. Others say he acted through others all along.
- Posture — He asked through Israel's elders, owning them as God's choice. Faith made him lowly, not proud.
- Picture — Healing by a word at a distance shows this present time. Christ is absent in person. His word is here, and Gentiles find blessing through faith in it.
and saying, Lord, my servant lies paralytic in the house, suffering grievously.
A Roman officer comes to Jesus in Capernaum, not for himself, but for a servant lying helpless at home. His short appeal says three things: who the sufferer was, how bad his case was, and who took the trouble to plead for him.
The word translated "servant" says nothing about the man's age. Scripture uses it for far more than household work.
pais, "a child," regardless of age, and so used for servant. Matt. 8:6, 8, 13 … The word is applied to Christ in Matt. 12:18; Acts 3:13, 26 (translated "Son"); Acts 4:27, 30 (translated "child"); and to Israel and to David in Luke 1:54, 69.
How could this officer come to Jesus without showing up in person? And why did one servant matter so much to him?
His slave was dear to him, yes, precious, but sick and about to die. Yet the centurion did not present himself to the Lord. He came to Him only in the sense that people are said to do themselves what they do through others. He was no pagan. He honoured the Jews, low as they had sunk, because God chose them and entrusted them with His oracles, the scriptures.
The older wording here is "grievously tormented." Some tried to soften that word. One writer answered them:
There is another word I have not yet mentioned: basanizō and basanismos, torment. People say it comes from a Lydian stone used to test gold. Very likely. But it is simply false to conclude that the words meant "to prove" and not "to torment" once they came into common use. So Matthew 8:6: "My servant is lying sick, grievously tormented." What has that to do with the Lydian stone? … Revelation 9:5 uses the verb and the noun for the torment of a scorpion's sting. Matthew 14:24: "tormented by the waves."
This case follows right after the cleansing of a leper. The two men show human ruin from two different angles.
In both these cases — the leper and the centurion — there is faith. In the first it is personal faith, but in the case of the centurion it is the faith of one person for another. If leprosy represents sin in its polluting character, paralysis shows man in his helplessness. It is a great point for a sinner to make that discovery. It is more to acknowledge I am helpless than that I am a sinner.
The servant could not come. His master went in his place, claiming nothing for himself.
I see this shown in the centurion, in Matt. 8. "I am not worthy," he said. "Only speak the word," he added. And all the while he laid his servant at the feet of Jesus: "My servant is lying paralyzed at home."
Where this story sits in Matthew's Gospel matters. A Gentile's faith stands next to a nation's coming refusal.
Matthew places the leper right before the centurion. This marks the grace ready for the Gentile when the defiled people would reject the Messiah. So the Gospel shows from its beginning to its end. This is why Matthew's account of the centurion, unlike Luke's, records the Lord's declaration. Many would come from east and west and share the feast with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. But the sons of the kingdom, their own descendants, would be thrown out into the outer darkness with its unspeakable anguish.
The officer reasoned from the one authority he knew well: the chain of command he lived under every day.
Here again the power of His word stands out. The centurion himself emphasized it, for he knew the power of an authoritative word as shown in the Roman military system. The rank of a centurion was not a high one, yet those under him obeyed his instructions at once. His faith found in Jesus One whose word could do the miraculous.
- Tormented. "Suffering terribly" means real torment — the same word describes a scorpion's sting. The need was extreme, not mild.
- Helpless. Paralysis pictures a man with no strength of his own. To say "I am helpless" goes further than to say "I am a sinner."
- Carried. The man who could not come was laid at the feet of Jesus by another man's faith. The leper believed for himself; the centurion believed for his servant.
- Valued. The sufferer was a slave, yet precious to his master. And the master was a Gentile officer who honoured Israel's God.
- Widened. Grace reached past Israel to this outsider. Matthew points ahead: many would come from east and west to the feast.
And Jesus says to him, *I* will come and heal him.
A Roman officer has just told Jesus about his paralysed servant. The reply is instant — an offer to walk into the officer's own house, though a word would have done.
The centurion asked on behalf of a household slave. The answer came at once.
The centurion appealed to the Saviour about a slave and no more, but that slave was, for some reason, precious in his sight. Many in Israel did not recognise God in the lowly Carpenter who was travelling through the province. The Roman did. He asked Him straight away, and the answer came: "I will come and heal him."
The offer had a purpose beyond the servant's cure.
Jesus declared Himself willing to come and heal him. He, the One who knows the heart of man, knew well that this would bring out the faith of the Gentile.
The offer also worked on the centurion himself. Such kindness did not make him bold; it made him small in his own eyes.
The very grace of the Lord, which offered to come and heal the servant, awoke a deeper sense of the Lord and of himself in his heart... He recognised in Jesus what made himself nothing, yet what encouraged him to lay at His feet his appeal for a dying slave.
The centurion is an outsider to Israel. One writer explains why that was no barrier.
But this divine grace shown in Israel, being divine, could not limit itself to Israel. A Gentile saw the divine power at work far more fully, because he was not shut up in Jewish thinking. He saw that the Lord could dispose of all things, just as he himself sent his soldiers here and there. So he looks for mercy for his servant. But his faith produced true lowliness of heart, as faith always does when it realises the divine presence. He counts himself unworthy that Jesus should come under his roof. A word from the Lord, ready as He was to go to him, was enough.
Paralysis pictures a man with no strength of his own. And a willingness to come is not the same as coming. One writer sets this reply beside a father's plea in John 4, where the Lord healed without going.
If leprosy pictures sin in its polluting character, palsy shows man in his helplessness. It is a great point for a sinner to make that discovery. It is more to admit I am helpless than that I am a sinner. To the Gentile centurion the Lord says, "I will come and heal him." But take the nobleman in John 4. To him He says, "Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe." The man asked again and again for the Lord to come down. Jesus did not go, though He healed his son.
Two ways of knowing Christ meet here — one by His hand, one by His word.
Here there is no touching — no connection with Christ after the flesh. This is instead the way the Gentile knows Christ. The Jew looked for a Christ who would put out His hand. They wanted a Saviour there among them in person, bringing in this divine power and healing them, as the Scripture had said, "I am the LORD, your healer." And here He had come; but they did not know Him like that.
The centurion asked for a word instead of a visit, and the cure came. One writer sees in that the shape of the whole time since Christ went to heaven.
The healing of the centurion's servant shows what has been going on during the long stretch of time since He went on high. It is the work of grace among the Gentiles on the principle of faith, for an absent Saviour healed the man.
What is left to us, now that Christ is not here? One writer answers plainly.
Christ is not here. He has gone up to the Father's throne. But His Word is with us; in the Scriptures we can hear His living voice at any time. We rest on His Word. It is everything to us, since He Himself is no longer with us.
- Offer. The centurion asks for a slave, and Jesus offers at once to come.
- Purpose. Knowing the man's heart, He proposed the visit to bring the Gentile's faith into the open.
- Effect. That same grace deepened the centurion's sense of his own unworthiness. Faith that meets God always brings lowliness.
- Reach. Grace is divine, so it could not stay inside Israel. An outsider received what many in Israel missed.
- Result. The visit never happened. An absent Saviour healed the man, and grace has reached the nations that way ever since.
And the centurion answered and said, Lord, I am not fit that thou shouldest enter under my roof; but only speak a word, and my servant shall be healed.
The Lord had just offered to come and heal the sick servant, and the centurion asks Him not to make the trip. This Roman officer, an outsider to Israel, has a low view of himself and a very high view of what one word from Jesus can do.
He is not being polite about the state of his house. The word means fit or qualified, and his sense of being unfit grew the moment the Lord offered to come.
"I am not worthy" (adequate or qualified) "to have you come under my roof." The Lord's own grace, which offered to come and heal the servant, awoke in his heart a deeper sense of the Lord and of himself... He saw in Jesus what made him nothing. Yet he also saw what gave him courage to lay his plea for a dying slave at His feet.
Being unfit did not stop him asking. Once he stopped measuring himself, he saw what Jesus was. He also saw that Jesus came to serve people whose only claim is need.
With the centurion there is the most thorough humility. He is not fit for Christ to come under his roof, but in this we already see the faith that moves him. With self behind his back, his view becomes clear, and so he sees in Him One whom all things serve. Yet He Himself has come to serve, and to serve people who have no worthiness — no fitness except their need. Let Him speak the word then: everything will do His bidding.
What he asks for shows what he believed about Jesus. A visit would add nothing.
As for the Gentile, the Lord's offer to go and heal his servant brought out the unusual strength of his faith... He had only to say the word, and his servant would be healed. The bodily presence of the Messiah was not needed. A question of place could not limit God; His word was enough. Disease must obey Him, as the soldier or the servant obeyed the centurion, their superior.
Commentators put the weight of this confession high. One writes that among all the titles given to Jesus across these chapters, the centurion's sentence stands out:
The Gentile centurion rises perhaps highest of all in the words: "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof."
In Luke's account the man sends a delegation of Jews. Matthew leaves them out, and does so on purpose.
His faith and his lowliness are two sides of one thing. And this faith turns up in a Gentile, outside Israel.
But this divine grace shown in Israel, being divine, could not limit itself to Israel. A Gentile saw the divine power at work far more fully, because Jewish thoughts did not shut him in. He saw that the Lord could dispose of all things, just as he himself sent his soldiers here and there. So he looks for mercy for his servant. But his faith, as faith always does when it realises the divine presence, produced true lowliness of heart, and he counts himself unworthy that Jesus should come under his roof. A word from the Lord, ready as He was to go to him, was enough.
This is the ground believers stand on now. Christ is not here in person, but His Word is.
This is what drew out our Lord's praise: his confidence in the power of His word while He was absent in person. Here is a principle vital to us at this hour. Christ is not here, having gone up to the Father's throne. But His Word is with us; in the Scriptures we may at all times hear His living voice... On His Word we rest; it is our all, seeing that He Himself is no longer with us. If anyone could tear His Word out of our hands, we would be left in total darkness.
- Need: he came with no fitness to offer, only a dying servant — and He "has come to serve people who have no worthiness."
- Lowliness: the Lord's offer to enter his house is what made him feel unfit. Coming near to Christ deepened his sense of himself; it did not ease it.
- Sight: with self out of the way his view cleared, and he saw One whom all things serve.
- Word: he asked for no visit and no touch, because God is not limited by place — a spoken word would do it.
- Reach: faith in an outsider showed that grace could not stay inside Israel. It maps our place too: Christ unseen, His Word in our hands, and that Word enough.
For *I* also am a man under authority, having under me soldiers, and I say to this [one], Go, and he goes; and to another, Come, and he comes; and to my bondman, Do this, and he does it.
A Roman officer asks Jesus for mercy for his servant, then tells Him not to come under his roof. His reasoning in this verse comes straight from his own barracks, and it shows what he believed about Jesus.
The centurion builds his case from the smaller to the greater. He knows what his own orders do, and asks how much more the Lord's word can do.
When Jesus says to him, "I will come and heal him," at once his heart shows itself. He answers, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof." He himself could say to one, "Go," and he goes; to another, "Come," and he comes; and to his servant, "Do this," and he does it. How much more, then, could the Lord "only say the word, and my servant will be healed"? Jesus had indeed authority over all diseases; but was it merely a question of His putting His hand on the leper? Not at all. He had only to speak the word, and it was done. The centurion assumes the great truth that Jesus was God, not merely Messiah.
He does not describe himself as a man with power. He says he is a man placed under it — and that is the hinge of the whole comparison.
He says, "I am a man" — not in but under authority. A Roman captain over 200 men, he was a long way from being the head of the Imperial army. Even so, he had this power to order the soldiers under him. There is something very sweet about that. His argument is that the Lord had all the authority in Himself.
The centurion held a borrowed position. He could give orders because he took orders. Commentators see him crediting Jesus with the same pattern, only without limit.
His faith owned that Jesus had the very same power, and indeed more. The centurion was only a man under authority. Jesus, the perfectly dependent and obedient Man, could command all, always to the glory of God the Father. Even the centurion, under authority as he was, still had authority himself to order this one and that one, and his own servant most of all. All things were but servants to Jesus — all served God's glory by Him. He had only to speak the word: disease itself must obey.
Seeing that much did not make him bold about himself.
A Gentile owned the divine power at work far more fully, since he was not shut up in Jewish thoughts. He saw that the Lord could dispose of all things, just as he himself sent his soldiers here and there. So he looks for mercy for his servant. Yet his faith, as always when it realises the divine presence, produced true lowliness of heart: he counts himself unworthy that Jesus should come under his roof.
Jesus praised trust in His word, not a wish for His presence. Writers draw the line straight to where believers stand now.
It was this that drew out our Lord's commendation — his confidence in the power of His word when He was not there in person. Here is a principle that is vital to us at the present hour. Christ is not here, having gone up to the Father's throne. But His Word is with us; in the Scriptures we may at all times hear His living voice.
An outsider's faith becomes the occasion for a warning about who ends up inside the kingdom.
This is the beautiful way in which we are here shown the different bearing of the Lord on the Jew and on the Gentile. But we learn more: Israel would refuse the blessing, and the Gentiles would become the objects of mercy. As it says here, "I tell you, many will come from east and west and recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven" — that is, many Gentiles will come. "But the sons of the kingdom" were the natural children, the seed, but not the true children according to Abraham's faith. These would be "thrown into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."
- Authority recognised. The centurion argues from the chain of command he lives in. He is under authority, so his own orders carry weight. He credits Jesus with an authority that is His own.
- Authority obeyed. He commands soldiers. Christ commands everything, and disease itself must obey the word of the perfectly obedient Man.
- Authority humbles. The clearer his view of that power, the lower his view of himself — he thinks himself unworthy to receive Jesus at all.
- Authority at a distance. He asks for no visit, only a word; that same word is what believers have now while Christ is absent, and it is enough.
- Authority widens. This faith turns up outside Israel. Many will come from east and west, while those who counted the kingdom theirs by birth go into the outer darkness.
And when Jesus heard it, he wondered, and said to those who followed, Verily I say unto you, Not even in Israel have I found so great faith.
A Roman officer asks Jesus not to trouble Himself with a visit to the house. He asks only for a word of command. The reply is startling: the Lord marvels, and tells the crowd He has found nothing like this faith in Israel. Two questions follow. What made this man's faith "great"? And why did the Lord hold up an outsider, rather than one of His own people, as the example?
The Lord marvelled at two things, and they sit at opposite ends of one scale. One writer sets them side by side, and shows what unbelief costs:
Jesus had come to bless men, and unbelief could not altogether stop this work. It might reduce the stream of blessing for a time, or turn it into other channels, because faith is essential to its outflow... The unbelief of Nazareth was as striking as the faith of the Roman centurion. Jesus marvelled at both.
One writer points to two short sentences the centurion spoke in verse 8:
Great faith was marked by two things seen in verse 8. He said, "I am not worthy," condemning himself, and so ruling himself out of the question. He also said, "only say the word," when addressing the Lord. He had no opinion of himself, but he had a great opinion of Him. It was so great that he was ready to trust His word with no support from outside. Some people want the word of the Lord backed up by feelings, or by reason, or by experience. But great faith comes from discovering in Jesus so great a Person that His bare word is enough.
This officer had given real help to the Jewish people, yet he thought nothing of himself. The two things belong together:
He recognised the honour God had put on His people. Though they were despised and failing badly, he still loved His nation and had built them a synagogue. His humility was genuine, for his faith went far beyond the people he honoured. So he had a very high grasp of the power and glory of Christ's Person as divine, reaching beyond Jewish thoughts altogether... Faith always makes humble, because it lifts up the object of faith. And note, his faith came by report, by hearing.
So where did a Roman officer learn such faith? One writer traces it to the synagogue and to a sense of need:
Can we wonder that the gracious Lord wondered? It was faith simple and strong, the fruit of divine grace. The word of God was read and heard in the synagogue, and it taught the centurion about God's nature and ways. None of the Jews learned this. They listened with no such sense of need, and claimed instead that the word was theirs alone. Not even in Israel, the Lord said, had He found so great faith.
A healing done at a distance, by a word alone, pictures how blessing reaches people now:
Such is our position. Jesus is away and unseen. We hear His word, take hold of it, and are saved. This is the beautiful way in which we are shown here how the Lord dealt differently with the Jew and with the Gentile. But we learn more. Israel would refuse the blessing, and the Gentiles would become the objects of mercy. Many Gentiles will come from east and west, and will sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. Rejecting their Messiah, the Jews as a nation were going to be rejected.
Praise like this can discourage a believer whose own faith feels weak:
Our acceptance does not depend for its value on how great or how feeble our faith in Him is. It is the same for all. (What we enjoy from it does depend on that.)... Our faith may be defective, like that of the leper who said, "If you will, you can." He admitted the power but doubted the will. Or it may be strong, like the faith the Lord said was greater than any He had found in Israel. In each case deliverance was sought, and it did not depend on the faith of the men asking but on the love and power of the Lord.
- Heard. His faith came by report, by hearing — Scripture read in the synagogue he had built. It started with a man who knew his need.
- Humbled. Faith always makes humble, because it lifts up its object; the higher his view of Christ, the lower his view of himself.
- Word. He asked for no visit, only a word — great faith finds Jesus so great that His bare word needs no backing.
- Wonder. The Lord marvelled at two things: unbelief in Nazareth and faith in this Gentile. Both surprised Him; only one released blessing.
- World. Faith outside Israel opened the door east and west. Blessing still reaches us the same way — from a Saviour unseen, through His word.
But I say unto you, that many shall come from [the] rising and setting [sun], and shall lie down at table with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of the heavens;
A Roman officer, an outsider to Israel, has just come to Jesus in faith, and Jesus has healed his servant. Now the Lord looks ahead and names guests at a table nobody expected them at — so who does get into the kingdom?
The announcement is not a change of subject. It grows out of what the officer believed about Jesus.
In the next case we see a Gentile who, by faith, enjoys the full effect of the power his faith credited to Jesus. This gave the Lord the occasion to bring out a solemn truth. Many of these poor Gentiles would come and sit down in the kingdom of heaven with the fathers, whom the Jewish nation honoured as the first parents of the heirs of promise.
Matthew also chose where to place this scene. The healing of a leper stands just before it, and that order carries a message.
Matthew sets the leper right before the centurion, to mark the grace ready for the Gentile when the defiled people would reject the Messiah. The Gospel shows this from its beginning to its end. So in its account of the centurion (not in Luke's matching account), the Lord declares that many would come from east and west and share the feast with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob.
"East and west" means people with no family link to Abraham at all. They arrive the same way the officer did — by faith, not by bloodline.
Jesus speaks as the Messiah. In that character He warns the unbelieving Jews that their descent from the patriarchs will do them no good. They were children of the men God made the promises to. Yet if they rejected Him, they would be thrown out. The centurion, whose servant He had healed, had pressed by faith into the possession of blessing. In the same way, numbers of people from every quarter would press into the kingdom when God set it up. By faith they would gain the blessed privilege that these Jews were now despising.
To the first hearers this was not a comfortable thought.
This must have been a solemn and startling announcement to Jewish ears. It plainly foretells that Gentiles will be let into the privileges of the kingdom, while the natural heirs are shut out.
The picture is not just entry but welcome — a shared meal. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are the fathers who received God's promises.
His soul looks ahead to those gathering crowds who would come from opposite quarters to sit down at the glad feast of welcome with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are at this table, so the scene is still future and it needs resurrection. Writers differ on where it happens. Some read it of the coming reign on earth. Others read it of the heavenly side of that kingdom. All agree that God raises the fathers and seats them there.
God will then fulfil every promise to the fathers. Yes, no doubt, when the Lord reigns, the fathers will be raised from the dead and will appear in the kingdom... To apply this text to the Church would completely overturn the present gospel of the grace of God. But the Lord is speaking about the kingdom, and so this text throws great light on that reign.
Trotter stresses the heavenly side of the same scene. He also notes that the gathering has already begun.
Right now, while the kingdom of heaven exists in a hidden form, God is bringing these Gentile strangers in from the east and from the west. But later on... these strangers will be seen sitting down with the patriarchs in the heavenly part of that glorious kingdom. Israel, pardoned and restored, will occupy the earth, together with the nations that are spared.
Some have read this verse as proof that Abraham and the other Old Testament believers belong to the church. Kelly answers that sharing their table takes nothing from the church's own place.
It is certain that we will sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But that in no way conflicts with the place of the church as the body and bride of Christ. What is there to stop us enjoying other spheres of glory besides the ones that are our own in a special way?
- Faith opens it. One outsider's trust in Jesus is what draws this promise out; the officer is the sample, not the exception.
- Birth does not. Being born into Abraham's family settles nothing. Those who press in by faith are the ones who get in.
- The reach is worldwide. "East and west" names people from every quarter with no natural tie to Abraham.
- The welcome is a table. Not bare entry, but a "glad feast of welcome" seated with the fathers of faith.
- The date is future. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are there, raised from the dead. That sets the scene in the coming kingdom, not in this age.
but the sons of the kingdom shall be cast out into the outer darkness there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Jesus said to the centurion, Go, and as thou hast believed, be it to thee. And his servant was healed in that hour.
A Roman officer has just asked Jesus to heal his servant from a distance, and this verse is the Lord's reply. It raises two questions: what made this man's faith so great, and why does Matthew record a Gentile's blessing here?
The centurion had asked for nothing but a spoken command, and that is what the Lord gives. No visit. No touch. His power never depended on being near.
He had only to speak the word, and his servant would be healed. The bodily presence of the Messiah was not needed. God could not be limited by a question of place; His word was enough. Disease must obey Him, as the soldier or the servant obeyed the centurion, their superior.
"As you have believed" makes his faith the measure of what he receives. One writer finds the same pattern elsewhere, and shows what happens when faith is small.
When the Lord was on earth, He surrendered Himself to faith. When faith was great, He acted according to its measure: "let it be done for you as you have believed" (Matt. 8:13). "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire" (Matt. 15:28). When faith was small, He acted according to Himself — see Matt. 8:26, where He answered the disciples' "little faith" with "a great calm."
This is not just about one Roman officer, and not just about healing.
The great principle of the divine life is faith. It is simple, earnest, wholehearted faith that takes and enjoys all that God has given. It puts the soul in possession of eternal realities and keeps it there as a habit. This is true of the people of God in every age. "According to your faith be it done to you," is always the divine motto. There is no limit. All that God reveals, faith may have. All that faith can grasp, the soul may enjoy continually.
The man was a Gentile, helpless, and nowhere near Jesus when he was healed. Commentators read the scene as a picture of the present day — and then turn it on the reader.
The centurion's servant was paralysed — a picture of the helpless and hopeless condition of the Gentiles… His simple faith is the fullest confession that Jesus is God. It confesses that He is able to heal by His Word, though He is away from the sick man. What a grand foreshadowing of the age in which we live and of the mercy shown to the Gentiles! It is the character of the age. Jesus is absent, yet in childlike faith we know Him, and by His Word He shows His power. It is not healing by touch, but by His Word… Here, after the failure of Abraham's descendants, the Gentile refreshes the heart of the Lord… Are you refreshing and comforting His heart — Him who is unseen now? Surely it is by simple faith in Himself and in His power that we refresh Him.
The sick man never saw Jesus. A word from a distance healed him, and that word is what we still hold.
This is what drew out our Lord's praise: his confidence in the power of His word while He was not there in person. We have here a principle that is vital to us at the present hour. Christ is not here, having gone up to the Father's throne. But His Word is with us. In the Scriptures we may hear His living voice at any time… We rest on His Word. It is our all, since He Himself is no longer here with us. If His Word could be wrested from our hands, our darkness would be impenetrable.
The one healed was a household slave, not a son or a person of rank. Yet the answer came at once and in full.
The slave was healed. Such faith as his master showed could not be denied. Nor will faith in the Word of the absent Saviour ever fail to receive fullest acknowledgment from God.
That reward reaches further than one household. It touches people who never saw Him.
The Lord rewards the Gentile centurion's faith at once by healing the servant without being present Himself. Today also Gentiles who have not seen Him and yet have believed are the special objects of His great favour.
- Word — The Lord healed without going and without touching. His word carried the power, because place cannot limit God.
- Measure — Faith is the measuring line. The Lord answered great faith according to its size, and small faith out of His own fullness.
- Limit — The limit lies with us, not with Him; all that God reveals, faith may have.
- Reach — A helpless Gentile healed from a distance pictures our own day. Christ is away, and blessing comes through faith in His Word.
- Result — The slave was healed at that very moment. God never leaves faith in the Word of the absent Saviour unanswered.