In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today's story of the centurion, my brothers and sisters in Christ, is the only story in the gospels—only story in the gospels—that's found in both Matthew and Luke but not Mark; it's a different source than Mark. This centurion today approaches Jesus, sort of like a little child who came to be baptized this morning. He also provides a model for how one is to approach Jesus. Now, since we came here today for the sole purpose of approaching Jesus, reason prompts us to consider this man as some sort of type of how it might be done.

Let's observe three things about the centurion. First, he's not a private operator; he's part of a system. He's a company man. He's a man of order, what we call taxis, a very important word in the Christian Church: order. He understands the proper structure of society; he knows his place within it. He tells the Lord, "I am a man under exousia; I'm a man under authority. And I have soldiers who are under me." That's called a hierarchy, by the way. "I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; another, 'Come,' and he comes; and to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it." Now, this is I think the first thing to observe about our centurion: he's a man who's subject to authority. He fits within the structure of society and knows his place within it. In this sense, he's sort of an embodiment of the ideal that's held out in the wisdom literature of the Bible.

He entertains no rebellious notions about social equality. He does not chafe under discipline. He does not complain about his duties and obedience. He's a man that respects proper structure in society. He's an orderly man. And he depends on that structure in order to regulate his own life. Now this, my beloved, I believe must be a component of the attitude of anyone who wants to come to Christ. Indeed, this is why Christ founded the Church and remains the head of the Church. It means we do not go to God as private operators, lone rangers, "just me and Jesus." We come to God by joining the society that our Lord himself established, the Church, that Church with whom he identifies himself.

It was overwhelming this morning to stand there at that baptismal font. It was overwhelming! I realized that we were— This rite, even down to very small particulars of this rite, has been going on week by week for 2,000 years. Same prayers. Same prayers said here this morning have been chanted in Hagia Sophia, been chanted all across Europe. Those prayers were brought to this country by missionaries from Russia who brought them down through Alaska. Fundamentally, even the very prayers we said this morning, some of them we can trace back by documents to the first decade of the third century. We would have earlier documents, except things tend to disintegrate when they're written on papyrus.

That rite we performed this morning is what has held together the history of Western civilization for two millennia. That rite. One joins Christ in joining the Church. It is not accidental; it's an essential feature of belonging to Christ. Indeed, this is the very first lesson that St. Paul was taught at the time of his conversion. The voice from heaven said to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" Now notice the "me": "Why do you persecute me?" Our Lord did not ask him, "Why do you persecute Christians?" but "Why do you persecute me?" You see how completely our Lord identifies himself with the society that he had founded. Then when our Lord did get Saul's attention on the road to Damascus, Saul asked him, "Lord, what must I do?" See, he's going to try to establish his personal relationship with Jesus. He's calling him Lord. "It's you and me now, Lord. What must I do?"

"Lord, what must I do?" What does the Lord answer? I will translate it into Chicago idiom. "Knock it off. I'm not going to tell you a thing. I have no instructions for you at all. There's a church in Damascus. You go put yourself under that authority." "Go to the city," he says, "and it will be told you what you ought to do." This would have come, I think, not at all as a shock to the centurion. That's what he would have expected. Paul learned this lesson from the earliest moments of his conversion. He must enter into Damascus, place himself under the discipline of the Church. I can hardly read a line like that without remembering that I was ordained to the sacred priesthood by a man who was born on Straight Street in Damascus. Hard to think of the ministry without that.

This is extremely important, my brothers and sisters, because it has to do with our nature as human beings. The modern world tells us that each of us is an autonomous being. This is a lie. It's a serious deception. Human beings were not created to be autonomous. They're not self-ruled. "Autonomous" means one's own law; human beings are not their own law. Human beings were created to be social beings. The first things children learn have to do with needs, expectations. Baby cries in the middle of the night, the mother doesn't say, "Oh, that child has a constitutional right to be nourished." That'd be the society based on rights. No, she says, "I have a God-given responsibility to feed him." That's the society built on obedience, expectations, needs.

Human beings are created to be social because we have it on the authority of God's word: "It is not good for man to be alone." The first condition for coming to God, then, is to join the society that belongs to him. So that's the first trait of coming to Jesus.

Second, the centurion is a man of devout humility. Now, humility is something I love to speak on because I know so much about it. [Laughter] In fact, I think I will put down everything I know about humility. It will be the best book on the subject, ever! [Laughter] When I talk about humility, I have to tell you I'm talking theory! I'm talking theory. [Laughter] But I do think I see humility as a trait in this man who says unto our Lord, "Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof." Indeed, holy Church puts this prayer on our lips before we receive holy Communion. And I hope all of you have prayed this prayer already. It's in the prayer book; it's part of your normal preparation for receiving holy Communion. A prayer of St. John Chrysostom, it's in your prayer books:

O Lord my God, I know that I am not worthy nor sufficient that thou shouldst enter under my roof into the habitation of my soul, for it is all in ruins, and thou hast not a fitting place in me to lay thy head.

Holy Church puts that prayer on the lips of everyone who approaches the chalice. That prayer is the third prayer before holy Communion; it's on page 107 of the bound book, page 49 of the paperback. Although the Church provides this prayer before receiving holy Communion, the sentiments of devout humility are not reserved for just this special time of receiving holy Communion.

Let's say some things about humility. First, it is not a fruit of an inferiority complex. Humility is compatible with a great deal of excellence and personal achievement. It seems to me important to say that. Humility is compatible with a great deal of excellence and personal achievement. Where does humility come from? It's born of a sense of standing in the presence of God. It consists in the constant remembrance of living in the presence of God. Humility comes from having the fear of God constantly before our eyes.

Indeed, the only proper theological basis for humility is devotion to God. A humble man is someone who is humble before God. It is his relationship to God that renders him humble. This is the humility we see in the sixth chapter of Isaiah, when he meets the Lord God and hears the song of the seraphim, as a man of unclean lips. This is the humility we find in the last chapter of Job. "I have heard of thee with the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye hath seen thee, and I hate myself and I repent in dust and ashes." This is the humility of Abraham. This is the humility of Moses who is described in holy Scripture as the humblest of men. Of course he was the humblest of men: Look where he went! Look what he saw! Attend to what he heard! This is the humility of Hezekiah and Josiah. This is the devout humility of John the Baptist who said of Christ, "He must increase; I must decrease." This is the humility of the Mother of the Lord, who said, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to thy word." And this is the humility I think we see in today's centurion. "I am not worthy."

And third, this centurion comes to God through the prayer of faith. He does not come to seek something for himself, but notice today he intercedes on behalf of his servant who is dear to him. So it's charity, solicitude, expressed in prayer. He prays in trust. This, too, is required of someone who comes to God. "Speak but one word," he says, "speak but one word, and my servant will be healed." The centurion does not simply trust God in general; he trusts the word of Christ. His prayer is directed to the word of Christ. This is why our Lord accounts him the uncommon praise we find in the Gospel story, "Amen, I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel."

This devout, prayerful, humble man is without pretense. He has nothing to prove. Anyone could have insulted him in that moment. He had nothing to prove. The simplicity of his faith and the directness of his prayer are of a piece with his devout humility and his sense of living under authority.

Now the truly blessed man in today's story, the truly fortunate individual, is the sick servant who attends to such a master and who is loved by such a master and is prayed for by such a master. The prayer of faith, my brothers and sisters, is not something separable from all the other matters we have considered—devout humility and living under obedience. For none of these things would be possible without the others.

What, then, should be the hope we take from this story? Surely it is the hope of being included in the multitude of which Jesus says today, because he refers to us—refers to every one of you—bless my soul, he even refers to me—he refers to that little child who was immersed three times in the laver of regeneration— He refers to us this morning when he says, "Many will come from east and west and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven." You see, the centurion was no Jew. He was a servant of the Roman Empire. He was a commander of a hundred men; he was a cen-turion. And yet Christ our Lord admits him to the table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, our forebears in the prayer of faith and the devout humility. May the Lord in his mercy enable us also, my beloved, to sit in his kingdom.