The Test of Faith

The Roman centurion took a risk by approaching Jesus in public. He might have been rebuffed. Yet, this powerful Roman commander went out of his way to humble himself before the Lord. As a man of authority, he knew Jesus’ word was law. All it would take to heal his servant was one word from Jesus.

“Speak but the word, Lord,” he said, “and my servant will be healed.”

Jesus was stunned because He had never witnessed such faith among the Jews. That very hour the centurion’s servant was healed.
“Lord I am not worthy. . .only speak but the word and my soul will be healed.” (Matthew 8: 5-13)

We say those very words every time we approach the altar to receive Holy Communion. It must be one of the most often-stated expressions of our faith. Yet that prayer wasn’t inspired by a prophet, a Father of the Church or a saint. It was first voiced by a Roman centurion. He may have been a gentile, but his unquestioning belief in the authority of Jesus has come to be an exemplar of what our Christian faith should be.


What the centurion said that day would have been soon forgotten were it not for what he did. In putting his faith into action, he set an example for all of us to follow.

Picture the scene that day as the centurion approaches Jesus. The crowd draws back in hushed silence and Jesus turns to see the powerful Roman soldier. The two men could not have been more different:

The centurion was a man of war. Jesus was the Prince of Peace.

The centurion was a ranking officer in the occupation forces, a man with servants and slaves. Jesus was a humble carpenter and itinerant preacher.

They were separated by status, customs, religion and language. The one thing they shared in common was a bloody history.

So the centurion took a risk by approaching Jesus in public. He might have been rebuffed. Yet, this powerful Roman commander went out of his way to humble himself before the Lord. As a man of authority, he knew Jesus’ word was law. All it would take to heal his servant was one word from Jesus.

“Speak but the word, Lord,” he said, “and my servant will be healed.”

Jesus was stunned because He had never witnessed such faith among the Jews. That very hour the centurion’s servant was healed.

But the story could have had a different ending. For all the centurion knew, Jesus might have refused to perform a miracle. The centurion stepped out in faith and took a risk. He could never have imagined that his example of faith would be memorialized in every Mass. But such is the power of a good example.


Likewise, none of us can know how our example of faith might affect the lives of others. All we know for sure is that every act of faith involves some risk.

When we step out in faith, we are like the famous European tightrope walker who amazed crowds throughout France. Performing without a safety net, he would cross great heights wearing a blindfold and pushing a wheelbarrow. When an American newspaper heard of his feats, they offered him a large sum of money to cross Niagara Falls. The tightrope walker accepted the challenge and came to New York where he was greeted by a skeptical reporter for the newspaper. On the appointed day, the reporter watched in amazement as the blindfolded frenchman pushed his wheelbarrow across a tightrope strung above the raging waters.

“Now do you believe?” the frenchman asked.

“Yes,” the reporter replied. “I’ve seen you do it with my own eyes.”

“Do you really believe?” the frenchman insisted.

“Yes, I believe,” the reporter said.

“You have no doubts?” the frenchman asked again.

“None whatsoever,” the reporter insisted.

“Good,” the frenchman said. “Then get into the wheelbarrow.”

Until we are willing to step out and take a risk, our expressions of faith are meaningless.

Saint Francis of Assisi once said, “Preach the gospel always; if necessary use words.”

Other people may not always observe what we say but they always observe what we do.

Is there someone watching you? Tuned in to you? Someone waiting to see what kind of example you’ll set?
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