There’s this story in Luke about a Roman centurion that always sticks with me. It’s one of those moments where you can almost feel the tension hanging in the air. The centurion had a servant who was seriously sick, and despite being a man of power and authority, he couldn’t do a thing about it. He was used to being the guy who gave orders and made things happen—but now, he was helpless.
But here’s the twist: This centurion wasn’t like most Romans. He actually cared about the Jewish people. He had even built a synagogue for them, which was unheard of. Romans and Jews didn’t exactly have a warm relationship—Rome was an occupying force, after all—but this centurion had earned the respect of the Jewish elders. So much so that they went to Jesus on his behalf and said, “This man deserves your help. He loves our nation.” (Luke 7:4-5)
But when Jesus starts heading toward his house, the centurion sends another message:
“Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof. That’s why I didn’t come to you myself. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed.” (Luke 7:6-7)
That’s wild, right? A Roman officer calling a Jewish teacher Lord? That didn’t happen. But the centurion goes even further. He basically says, I get how authority works. I tell soldiers what to do, and they do it. If you say the word, it’ll be done.
And Jesus is amazed. He actually turns to the crowd following Him and says, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” (Luke 7:9)
Let’s sit with that for a second. A Roman outsider—a guy who technically represented the enemy—showed more faith than the religious leaders and the crowds who had been following Jesus. He recognized Jesus’ authority in a way that even His own people hadn’t. And he trusted Jesus not just to heal his servant, but to do it His way. No need for a visit. No need for a ceremony. Just a word.
There’s so much going on here. First, there’s obvious tension:
• Political tension — A Roman officer asking a Jewish teacher for help? That’s unheard of.
• Religious tension — Jews and Romans didn’t mix. This guy had no business even talking to Jesus.
• Personal tension — A man of status admitting helplessness and asking for help.
But then there’s also this quiet harmony beneath it all. The centurion’s respect for Jewish culture, his humility in asking for help, and his unwavering belief in Jesus’ authority—it all came together. The tension didn’t disappear, but there was peace in the middle of it because the centurion trusted Jesus completely.
This story hits me as a father, a leader, and someone who’s just trying to get it right. There’s a lot of tension in life—trying to make good decisions for my family, running a business, leading a team. And sometimes I feel that same sense of helplessness. But the centurion’s faith reminds me that it’s not about having all the answers—it’s about trusting the One who does.
He didn’t tell Jesus how to heal his servant. He just trusted that Jesus would handle it. That’s the kind of faith I want—the kind that lets go of the need to control and just rests in the fact that Jesus is in charge.
I guess the question is—do we trust Jesus like that? When life gets complicated, when the outcomes are unclear, when there’s tension everywhere—do we believe that His word is enough?
The centurion reminds me that faith isn’t about resolving the tension; it’s about finding peace in the middle of it. That’s where harmony shows up—not when everything is fixed, but when we know who’s holding it all together.
