A Guest Reflection

 

Source: prayerrope.co

Kevin Rains here offers a very creative and reading of last Sunday's Gospel reading (Matt. 8:5-13). With insight - not artiface - he finds a liturgical/eucharistic dimension to the healing of the centurion's servant. Please read through this carefully:

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Most Orthodox Christians have said the words hundreds of times without noticing: “Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest come under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” Originally these were not the Church’s words. They are a Roman soldier’s words - lifted verbatim from Matthew 8:8 and placed at the most sacred threshold of the Divine Liturgy, the moment right before we receive Holy Communion.

But that is only the beginning.

The entire shape of the Liturgy mirrors the centurion’s movement. When the deacon cries “Wisdom! Let us attend” before the Gospel, the congregation is standing attentively, silently - that is the centurion’s posture exactly. We are gathered for one reason: to receive the commanding word of One with exousia, divine authority over all things. “Only speak the word.”

Every Kyrie eleison - Lord have mercy - is the same cry that every supplicant in Matthew 8 makes with empty hands. The leper. The centurion. The Syrophoenician woman. The Liturgy is structured around this posture of approaching the unapproachable with nothing to offer but need and trust.

Then there is verse 11, which Jesus speaks over the centurion’s faith: “Many will come from east and west and recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”Every Divine Liturgy is that prophecy fulfilled. We - mostly (or all?) Gentiles, outsiders, those coming from east and west - are precisely those Jesus saw when he marveled at a Roman soldier’s faith.

And at the end: “Go in peace” echoes “Go; let it be done.” Sent out having received.

The whole movement is there. Approach. Unworthiness. The commanding word. Healing. Sending.

The centurion’s encounter with Christ mirrors the structure that we follow in every liturgy. From two thousand years ago! And we walk that same path every Sunday.