The Roman Centurion
The Wall of Enmity
What does it take for a Roman, a legionary and furthermore a centurion to call the Jews “my brothers”?
When Jesus had finished saying all this to the people who were listening, he entered Capernaum. There a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant. When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” So Jesus went with them.
He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”
When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.
Luke 7:1-10
You've already noticed it by the features of my face, the clothes I wear, the accent I have when I speak your language.
Worse than that, I am a Roman. A legionary, a centurion, attached to the Xth legion.
Yes, that very legion which, under the command of General Pompey, besieged, conquered and ravaged Jerusalem, putting an end to the Hasmonean dynasty and to your independence. I don't think I need to remind you either that Pompey took advantage of the treachery of Hyrcanus II, one of your own! Without his help, Jerusalem would probably have remained undefeated.
I am also aware of the offense that Pompey has caused your people. When he, a pagan, a foreigner, and what is more the defeating enemy general of the Jewish people, entered the Most Holy Place, thus desecrating the Temple of the Lord.
In a word, I represent everything that you hate and you never miss a chance to remind me of it. But today I am going to tell you my story, carried by the hope, a little crazy perhaps, that the words of this rabbi lit in me when he said: “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
The members of my family were miserable peasants who struggled to feed themselves and get through the winter. As the 5th child and 3rd brother, I had no prospects for the future: the family plot of land was already too small for my 2 older brothers to feed their families properly, so there was no point in me stubbornly following my father's path.
On the other hand, my status of citizen opened the doors to the legion for me: fed and equipped for free, but risking my life every day or so in the service of the Empire.
If you survive the 25 years of service, you get a nice pension, a property offered by the emperor and... the right to marry officially.
If you die in battle, you at least die with honors.
If your troop is defeated or if you flee from the enemy, you die in shame, caned or decimated, if fate falls on you. These inhumane practices are aimed at instilling discipline and lead the legionnaires to be more afraid of the punishment awaiting him on the “friend's” side than of the threat posed by the enemy.
The discipline of its soldiers even in the face of death, that's what makes the strength of the legions of the army of Rome.
And it is us, the centurions, who are responsible for it. I promise you that it is not pleasant, but it is the price to pay for what our Senators proudly call the Pax Romana, the Roman peace, from the comfort of their luxurious palaces in Rome.
Most of all, I spent 5 years trying in vain to defend the northern border of the Empire; against groups of Barbarians who knew their forests and hills perfectly, who ambushed us to wound a few of our own... then slaughtered those who came to their aid.
Their informers warned them of the passage of our supply convoys, and when, alerted by the rising smoke, we came to see what was going on, we invariably found the men slaughtered, the supplies looted, the wagons set on fire; condemning us to hunt and eat berries and roots, hoping that the next convoy would make it through somehow.
On our side, it was not much better: we did not hesitate to attack their villages, to plunder their crops, to rape their daughters. We had to kill before we were killed ourselves.
In vain we tried to discourage them once and for all by making them suffer an even worse massacre than the previous one...
Instead of discouraging them, this only strengthened their determination to fight for their brothers who had been killed for no reason, their lands ravaged by fire, to avenge the honor of their wifes and daughters.
Five long years of cold, endless violence, unnecessary deaths on both sides, hatred that only fed the endless circle of retaliatory violence... all in the name of the Emperor and for the greatness of Rome.
The promised reinforcements never arrived; the invasion which was supposed to bring a definitive victory was constantly postponed; in the meantime, legionnaires and barbarians died in a guerrilla war which made no sense.
After 5 years, I was removed from this hell. Those who survive 5 years in Britannia are by definition considered for promotion and my good record of service meant that I found myself a centurion.
From Britannia, I brought Gratius, my aide-de-camp.
A peasant's son, like me. A good guy whom I offered to enter my service to shorten his stay in the hell of Britannia. He accepted immediately, and with gratitude.
Officially, he is my servant. In reality, he is a friend and even a brother: we talk a lot about Rome, the army... We discuss things that it would be better not to mention higher up in the hierarchy.
In short, I found myself a centurion, flanked by Gratius, stationed in Capernaum with my troop.
The sun shines most of the year and its rays warm our bodies and hearts. The rain falls only as much as is necessary to fertilize the soil.
The hills around Capernaum are lush with vineyards, silver olive trees, or pastures for livestock. In the center, the deep blue Lake of Galilee sparkles like a jewel in its setting.
Boats ply the lake, their sails flapping in the wind and responding to the brilliant whiteness of the houses scattered along the shores.
All this gives off a soft, serene, peaceful atmosphere... It is like a foretaste of that shalom, that peace and universal harmony to which you aspire.
Believe me, after the hell of Britannia, being assigned to Palestine is a real treat.
Oh, I am well aware that, under its peaceful appearance, the Lake can undergo storms as sudden as they are violent... and I am well aware that, under your peaceful appearance, there is also a thirst for freedom, a desire to revolt, a burning desire to get rid of the yoke that we Romans impose on Israel.
I am well aware of all this... and besides, you never miss a chance to remind us of it.
But what struck Gratius and me most when we arrived in Palestine was your religion. We talked about it all night long, by the flickering light of an oil lamp. We sought to understand and were constantly puzzled, surprised, and often amazed by what we discovered.
You understand, our Roman gods are a gang, a clan that live on Olympus Mount. Even if they are married to each other and are officially part of one big family... this does not prevent them from betraying each other, from taking revenge on each other, from sleeping around, from being jealous, irascible, angry.
They are at the same time very far from us, humans: they live on their sacred mountain and feed on nectar... They are also very close to us by their very imperfect character.
It seems that their only interest for humans is to sleep with a beautiful mortal, leaving behind them a whole bunch of demigods.
Each god has its own specialty and each region, each city, each family even, chooses its main god.
In the army, obviously, we are worshippers of the god Mars, the god of war. This was one of the things we discussed most with Gratius: why celebrate war, violence and death?
In the name of the god Mars, the Empire has to conquer new territories and push back its borders again and again.
The blood that flows freely in Britannia... innocent lives slaughtered for little or no reason... all in the name of the god Mars? No... Three times no... A thousand times no!
Of course, there are other gods... and Baccus is another one that the soldiers like. The god of wine and party... it looks good on the surface, but the party often has a bitter taste the next morning and especially... it seems to me that Baccus is the way to forget Mars. We try to drown the horrors of war in the wine of the party.
And what about Eros, the god of love, or Vesta, the goddess of the home and family... to legionnaires who are not allowed to marry until their 25 years of service are over?
He pauses for a moment, to give himself time to think.
There remains, of course, one god, another god, one last god... the one who unites (or tries to maintain the unity of) the whole Roman Empire.
And here I'm going to ask you to be discreet because I'm risking a lot if you repeat what I'm going to tell you to my superior.
It took Gratius and me years to dare to talk about the subject.
I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it must have been almost five years ago now, when the Zealots' revolt was in full swing.
We had spent a day patrolling the area and... we were ambushed. They were waiting for us, many of them, at the bend in a hill on the road to Sepphoris.
One of them threw some rocks behind us, we stopped to see what was going on... and meanwhile, they deployed in front and behind us; we were ensnared without a way to escape... A trick as old as the world and against which there is unfortunately not much to do but to sell your skin dearly.
Except that well-trained legionnaires, facing a handful of peasants armed with clubs, even thirsty for freedom... your poor Jewish compatriots were no match for us. Several died and the three we captured alive were immediately condemned to crucifixion.
Crespus, one of ours, died too... he was lured out of our group and left alone, isolated, vulnerable.
I myself was left with a broken arm - a blow from their leader's stick. Weakened and in pain, I probably would have been the 2nd dead Roman if Gratius hadn't protected me. He threw himself between me and my assailant to parry his blows and save my life.
Always violence, always suffering, always death... always this vicious circle of revenge, of blood calling for blood.
That night, when my pain gradually subsided, when everyone else was in bed and sleeping soundly, Gratius and I dared to talk about the subject for the first time. As if this last incident was the straw that broke the camel's back, as if we had now become brothers and that the ties of blood were now tighter than those of hierarchy.
In short, we talked about the cult to the emperor.
Augustus, proclaimed god by the senate after his death.
Augustus, the one to whom the entire Empire owes allegiance.
A new god to strengthen the unity of the Empire. A god common to all Romans, beyond races and territories.
But which god? A god in whose name the massacres of Britannia began? A god in whose name innocent blood is shed in the four corners of the Empire? A god to whom countless peoples should submit under penalty of death?
A man who becomes a god after his death?
Gratius and I have been talking all night... we are definitely not satisfied with the Roman Empire, its army and its religion.
First of all, your Scriptures begin by speaking of the origins of the universe; compare that to the story of Remus and Romulus which limits our horizon to the creation of Rome and the origins of the Empire.
Then, and above all, where our gods are close to men by their evil inclinations and far from us by their indifference... your God is exactly the opposite: he is infinitely far from us by his perfection, his justice, his goodness, his love, his power... what you call his holiness.
At the same time, this God is infinitely close to men. Where our gods are only interested in sleeping with mortals, the Lord makes a covenant with a man. He chooses Abraham and commits himself to him: from Abraham will come the people of Israel who will inhabit the land of Canaan. Abraham will even become a blessing for all nations...
Centuries later, faithful to this promise, God frees his people from Egypt, from the oppression of Pharaoh. He gives them his own law to teach them how to live in harmony with their God, with each other and in their land - the promised land into which God will lead his people.
God will take care of Israel through ups and downs, even preparing a king for them, David, a man after God's own heart. What a contrast to our emperors!
For centuries, this God will speak to his people again and again, begging them through the mouths of the prophets to return to him, not to abandon the relationship to which he invites them.
And even in the face of Israel's disobedience and idolatry, in the face of exile, God does not abandon his people; the Lord brings a remnant back to Palestine, letting them rebuild the temple... this temple that we have desecrated.
I know you know this whole story better than I do, but I want you to realize how extraordinary it is, how compelling it is to me, a Roman centurion who has been trained all my life to hate the enemies of Rome and despise their beliefs.
I understand Ruth telling Naomi “Your God will be my God”Ruth 1:16 even though it seemed that Naomi's situation was dire and Ruth's prospects as a foreign woman in Bethlehem were nil...and yet this same Ruth became the great-grandmother of King David.Ruth 4:18-22
Do you realize how unique, how extraordinary these stories are?
Gratius and I were fascinated by everything we discovered about the Jewish religion.
We were like cloths thrown into the water and absorbing everything we could, like bees irresistibly drawn to honey.
In fact, we were so eager to learn more that we pooled all our money and organized a collection to build a synagogue...
We thought that the best way to be taught was to be the patrons, the benefactors of your community: this would allow us to have access to the rabbi, to his teaching, to learn to read the Torah in your language, to understand it better and, above all, to discover more and more about the God of Israel...
And at the same time, we always come up against this wall of enmity: we are Romans, the enemies, the occupiers, the desecrators of the Temple... A pious Jew will not speak to us, will not share a meal with us, will not even enter my house.
Because of my origin, because of my citizenship, because of my profession, I am impure, excluded from the relationship with the God of Israel, from belonging to his people. I am a foreigner to the promises of God... and you never miss a chance to remind me of this.
The garrison doctor, when he examined him, had the face of one who doesn't know how to say that he has no idea what is going on, nor any solution to improve the situation.
I sent for the best doctor in Galilee from Sepphoris, to see if he could do something for Gratius. He at least had the honesty to tell me that medicine is powerless in this kind of case and that the best I could do was to leave it to God... or to my gods, he added, suddenly remembering that he was in a Roman's house.
If Gratius should die... he is my aide-de-camp, my servant. But he represents so much more to me: he is a friend, a brothers in arms, closer to me than my own brothers. Many times, one has saved the life of the other. We spent years together in the hell of Britannia and came out of it together. Above all, we questioned together Rome, its Empire, its army and its religion and we discovered together, here in Capernaum, all the richness of the Jewish religion and the splendor of the God of Israel.
To lose Gratius is to lose a brother, to see a part of myself torn away.
It was the doctor who told me about Jesus. He had never met him, but he had heard about him. Above all, he had heard that he performed miracles, especially healings, that no one else had ever done and that the doctors did not know how to explain.
Some people whisper that Jesus could be the Messiah sent by God to free the Jewish people. If so, we Romans will soon have to deal with him... but in the meantime, this Jesus is probably the best hope if anything can be done for Gratius.
Of course, being Roman complicates this kind of situation a lot: a rabbi is never going to enter my house and Gratius, in his condition, cannot be moved.
Anyway, I went to see the rabbi of my synagogue and since I financed the construction, he has no real choice but to do me a favor when I ask him... He agreed to send a delegation of elders to Jesus to ask him to help Gratius.
On my side, I added Quintus to the delegation, one of my best soldiers, but especially, a guy who can run fast and long. I asked him to accompany the elders and to come back with news as soon as possible... Gratius is dying and Jesus is his last hope.
Quintus returned a little later with good news: Jesus was on his way to heal Gratius.
And then, all of a sudden, this reality hit me: if Jesus is really the one the doctor described to me, the one who performs miracles and prodigious healings. If he is the one sent by God, the God of Israel, the God who created the universe and everything in it. The God who cares about mankind and especially about the Jewish people, the God who made a covenant with Abraham, who placed David on the throne... then... then Jesus has only one word to say and Gratius will be healed.
If the Emperor can send thousands of men to their deaths with one of his words, Jesus can certainly bring one man back to life with one of his own word.
And then, discipline, giving orders and being obeyed, this is the daily bread for us, centurions.
So I sent another delegation to meet Jesus with this message:
“Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”
First, Gratius was healed. Totally, instantly and remotely - an extraordinary miracle, especially remembering the doctor's words! Gratius, who was shivering, unconscious under his blankets, threw them off at once. He got up feeling great and started eating and drinking to regain his strength - and I promise you that when Gratius starts eating seriously, the kitchen better have some reserves!
The other thing, equally extraordinary and which I learned a little later, are the words of Jesus that I mentioned earlier. He said: “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
I don't know if you'll accept it, but here's how I understand this saying: basically, Jesus just compared a Roman to an Israelite - and the comparison is favorable to the Roman!
If I understand this correctly, Jesus has just said that the wall of enmity against which Gratius and I have been bumping up against for so many years, this wall has just disappeared all of a sudden. The pagans, and what is more, the Romans, a legionary, a centurion, on top of that, also have access to the God of Israel.
So it is true that in Abraham all the nations of the earth will be blessed... Ruth is only the representative of so many foreigners who will be welcomed by the God of Israel.
And that's not all: the one who says this is Jesus. He whose word is followed by effect - he cured Gratius, instantly and at a distance, of a disease that left the best doctor in the province powerless.
If the Word of Jesus is powerful enough to heal Gratius, it must also be powerful enough to tear down that wall of separation between Jews and Gentiles. Yesterday we were enemies. Today, because of Jesus, we have become friends, even brothers... and I will never miss an opportunity to remind you of this!