Notes on Luke 7:1-18

Luke 7:1‑18  •  11 min. read  •  grade level: 7
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We have already had the leper in chapter 5, which Matthew displaces, in order to put it along with the centurion's servant, which opens our chapter; the one being used to show the dealings of the Lord Jesus and the character of His ministry among the Jews, and the other to bear witness to the great change which was about to take place in the going forth of mercy to the Gentiles on the rejection of Israel. Luke, as we have seen, was inspired by the Spirit of God to use it for a wholly different purpose. The leper was put with the paralytic man, not with the centurion, in order to bring out the different moral effects of sin, not the change of dispensation. Here then we find that the Lord has fully separated the godly remnant of His disciples and shown out the qualities of God's kingdom as realized, and Christ's own character as looked for in them: this would extend to the Gentiles also when they were called.
Now He gives us, in the case of the centurion's servant, a manifestation of His power and goodness which carries out the truth still farther. There are certain points of difference here, worthy of all note, as compared with Matthew, which we might not expect at first sight. The manner of its relation by Luke brings in two things, one of insertion and the other of omission; both very different from Matthew. First, the embassy of the elders is mentioned here, not in Matthew. “A certain centurion's servant, who was dear unto him, was sick, and ready to die. And when he heard of Jesus, he sent unto him the elders of the Jews, beseeching him that he would come and heal his servant.” This brings before us not only the officer's affection for his servant, but his employment of the elders of the Jews. “And when they came to Jesus, they besought him instantly, saying that he was worthy for whom he should do this, for he loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue. Then Jesus went with them.” Then we have a second embassy: “And when he was now not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying unto him, Lord, trouble not thyself; for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof.” Second thoughts are not always best among men. They constantly mar the simplicity of the first impression, which is apt to be direct from the heart or the conscience. But the mind which sees the consequences continually affects to correct these early impulses; and not seldom for the worse. Simplicity of purpose is ruined by secondary and prudential considerations. But it is not so with real faith, which makes us grow; as it is said, “Grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” In this case we have what is beautifully characteristic of our evangelist, both in the first embassy and in the second. The first is his reverence for God's dealings with the Jews shown in his employment of the elders, of those who were the leaders of Israel, to send to Jesus.
But next also we see his employment of friends, who more spoke of his own heart. Matthew mentions the case, but far more succinctly. We should not even learn from the first evangelist but that he came himself “Then came unto him a centurion, beseeching him.” Whereas it is clear there was the intervention of both elders and friends. The clue to it is that old maxim of law or equity, that what one does by another one does by oneself. The second occasion brought out more fully the reconsideration in his soul of the glory of Jesus. It was natural that in sending the Jews he should ask for His presence. For not a Jew only, but a faith that leaned upon Israel, that laid hold, as it were, of the skirt of a Jew, was always bound up with the personal presence of the Messiah; but when he spoke out his own proper feeling, and when friends consequently were the medium of his second mission, he says, “Lord, trouble not thyself; for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof.” This brings out two things; the deep sense of the Lord's glory, and a corresponding sense of his own nothingness. “Wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee.” This is left out in Matthew entirely; because Matthew, summing it all up, simply speaks of the centurion. If we had had this alone, then we might have thought that the centurion actually came, and that there was only one message to Jesus. But it was not so. Here, as we have the embassies mentioned, it is added by the Spirit of God, “Wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee.”
And that was just his state. It looked the saddest case. He was not worthy that the Lord should come: and neither did he think himself worthy that he should go to the Lord. How could mercy flow? Faith finds in each extremity the opportunity for grace worthy of God, and for the glory of such an One as Jesus. “But say in a word, and my servant shall be healed.” Thus the “word,” as we habitually find in Luke, has its paramount place. The turning point is not the bodily presence even of Messiah, but the word. Jesus was man, but He was the vessel of divine power; therefore He had only to say in a word, and his servant should be healed. His coming to the spot was in no way necessary—His word was enough. “For I also am a man set under authority, having under me soldiers: and I say unto one, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it.” That is, his faith owned that Jesus had the very same power, and indeed more; for he was only a man under authority: Jesus, the perfectly dependent and obedient man, could command all, ever to the glory of God the Father. Even he, under authority as he was, nevertheless had authority himself to order this one and that one, especially his own servant. All things were but servants to Jesus—all subserved God's glory by Him. He had only to speak the word: disease itself must obey. “Say in a word, and my servant shall be healed.” “When Jesus heard these things, he marveled at him, and turned him about, and said unto the people that followed him, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.”
But there is an omission—and this was the second point of difference I wished to mark—an omission of what Matthew adds: “And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven. But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” At first sight one might have expected this, particularly in Luke; but a closer inspection will show that its proper place is not here. The Lord does bring it in elsewhere in Luke, namely, in chapter 13, when the time was come for distinctly indicating the change; and this on moral considerations, and not on dispensational ones only. Whereas Matthew, being intent on the impending change for Israel and the Gentiles, is led of the Spirit to introduce it in this place and time, where no doubt it was uttered. But with equal wisdom Luke reserves it for another connection. do not doubt that the moral reason for that reservation was this, that while the Lord did acknowledge, if I may so say, the simplicity of the faith of the Gentile—and simplicity in faith is power—while He exceedingly valued that faith which saw much more than a Messiah in Him, which saw God in Him (man though He really was)—saw His power over sickness, even though at a distance from it, which is so effectual a bar to all human resources, but which only displayed One that was man, but far more than man. Such was to be the faith of the Gentile, in due time, when Jesus should be actually absent from this world, but when all the virtue of Jesus should be as, or even more, conspicuous in some important respects. Such is Christianity: and the Gentile centurion was an illustrious type of the character of this faith. Nevertheless Christianity being brought out, specially among the Gentiles, as Rom. 11 shows us, the continual danger is for the Gentile to account that the Jew has been cut off that he might be grafted in. Hence there was the wisdom of God in not introducing that solemn judgment upon Israel, as well as the strong expression of the substitution of the Gentile for him in this place. It was evidently to correct Gentile conceit. It is true the Jews were to be judged, in fact were already under judgment; but that sentence was to be executed still more stringently, when the Gentiles were to be gathered in. But the Lord waits a more fitting season for announcing it. Thus the Gentile is taught by this scene the proper feeling towards a Jew. Faith would not despise them. It may go beyond Jewish intervention, but it should honor the Jews in their own place. At the same time his own danger of presumption, as if he were the exclusive object of God's purpose, is guarded against by the omission of any such sentence here.
It is needless to say that they that were sent, returning to the house, found the servant whole that bad been sick.
But there follows, the day after, another scene of great interest, carrying out the picture of our Lord's power more completely; and it is a scene peculiar to Luke. “It came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” Two touches very characteristic of our evangelist, as indeed the whole scene is peculiar to him: he was the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. It is the heart of a man touched by the circumstances of desolation, and open to the affections that suited such a case. The Lord of glory deigned to feel, and to bring out by the Holy Ghost, these circumstances. “Much people of the city was with her.” Even man showed his sympathy. What did the Lord? “When the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.” He came to banish the tears which sin and misery had brought into the world. I do not say that He came not to weep Himself; for, in banishing it, He must weep as none other wept. But to her He would say in His gracious power, “Weep not. And he came and touched the bier, and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.” Vain words, had they not been His words, or from any other mouth! What a difference it is who says it! That is what men forget when they think of Christ, or speak of scripture. They forget it is God's word, they overlook God in man and by man, the man Christ Jesus. “And he that was dead sat up and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother.”
God was there; God was with that man in His own power: for what is more characteristic of God than raising the dead? It was even more wondrous than creation. That God should create, is, so to speak, natural. That God should raise the dead to life again, after that which is created is fallen into ruin, that He should show His all-compassing power of retrieving to the uttermost, supposes indeed man's weakness and evil, and the enemy's temporary success, but God superior to all circumstances of hostile power in the creature, and His own just judgment of sin. And this is true most evidently in the gospel. It is viewed as the quickening voice of the Son of God, and this in view of sin and of eternity. But the Lord shows it in matters of time here. “And be said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.” And our evangelist closes with words in keeping with all his spirit: “And Jesus delivered him to his mother.” If He was a man acquainted with grief, He was a man acquainted with the power of sympathy. He knew how to minister to the heart that was bereaved. “And there came a fear on all, and they glorified God, saying that a great prophet is risen up among us, and that God hath visited his people.” He had the power of life in the midst of death. He was a prophet, and more than a prophet. God had anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power, who went about indeed doing good. “And this rumor of him went forth throughout all Judea, and throughout all the region round about.”