Witness to the Resurrection: Cornelius the Centurion. given 5/10/15

            I was born in the slums of Rome. I was little more than a boy when I enlisted in the Legions of Caesar and began to serve as a common foot soldier.  Over time, I rose through the ranks to Centurion, commander of a hundred soldiers in the Italian Cohort.  In my time in the Army, I marched across half the world. I dug enough ditches to fill in a sea. I erected enough fortifications to fence a mountain. I shed a lake of the blood of Caesar's enemies in the service of the Empire.

            Finally, I was sent here to this forsaken Province of Judea, in this city, named after Caesar and settled by veterans of the Legions like me. My faithful service to Rome had earned me position, respectability, modest wealth, a home, family and even servants. I should have been content.

            Believe it or not, I have always been a religious man. Or at least, I have always been a man with an open mind. But, truth be told, I was never much for the gods of Rome. Frankly, I found all their scandals and seductions, betrayals and intrigue a bit hard to take. Oh, I would perform the appropriate sacrifices with the official piety expected of a man of my rank. But my heart was never in it. All those years in the Army, I stifled my questions and my doubts. Here in Judea, I encountered the God of these people who call themselves the Jews.

            They are a stiff-necked people--quarrelsome and chauvinistic and proud. They think themselves chosen for some special purpose by Heaven. And they think all foreigners are unclean and unfit to worship in their Temple. Once a week, on their holy day, they refuse to do any work. They follow absurd dietary restrictions. They have laws upon laws regarding every aspect of daily life and leisure. Their moral code is strict and inflexible. They will not even enter the home of one of their own who does not follow all those laws--much less the home of an unbeliever.

            Yet their religion has a simple beauty and a purity of truth that appealed mightily to me. They worship only one God, More than that, they insist that their God is the only God! Never depicted and never directly named, this one and only God insists that no other gods be served or even acknowledged.

            Something about that spoke directly to my heart. I wasn't about to convert. They insist that all male worshippers submit to circumcision! I certainly wasn't ready for that at my age! But I could be what they called a "God-fearing gentile". There were a number of us around, I discovered. We were tolerated, but not really accepted.

            I went to their synagogues and listened to their learned teachers debate. In accordance with the dictates of their faith, I began to donate to the upkeep of some of their congregations. I began to support some of their widows and orphans. I found that it made me feel good to help those unfortunates. I stood on the steps of their Temple and observed them at their worship. I studied the teachings of their faith.

            A single Creator God. That made sense. Did all this around us come from nothing? I tried to pray to this God of the Jews. But my doubts kept getting in the way. I was too concerned, I found, with questioning this one God, to be able to stop and simply listen.  I wanted to believe but.. to accept that the Creator of the world I had seen could care about me gave me pause.

            One day it happened. It was about three in the afternoon. A vision! Not an illusion, not my imagination, not wishful thinking. Centurions of Rome do not engage in wishful thinking! There, in my chamber, in the midst of my meditations, he appeared clearly, yet out of thin air. I cannot begin to describe the appearance of that figure in shining robes.

            "Cornelius, your prayers and your acts of charity have not gone unnoticed in Heaven."

            "They haven't?"

            "No. Such kindness and piety speaks well for you before God. Now, The

Almighty One is calling you to send to the town of Joppa for a man named Simon Peter."

            I summoned my orderly and two other trusted servants. I sent them to Joppa to find and invite this Simon Peter to visit me. I am a direct man, perhaps a bit too blunt after so many years of giving orders. But I am also a private man in some ways. My religious searching has always been deeply personal to me. Could I, should I share this extraordinary vision with my family and friends?

            After considerable prayer I realized that such an experience of God did not belong to me alone. It was difficult. Harder than anything I had ever done in battle. But something inside me gave me strength. I was able to tell my fellow God-fearers, and invite them into my home that day to join with my household in greeting this Simon Peter.

            When Peter arrived, I was struck by his humble appearance. I had expected someone who would look like one of their Pharisees or high priests. And in fact, there were a good half-dozed of that breed accompanying Peter. But with his worn clothing and big workingman's hands, this fellow Simon Peter had "peasant" written all over him. Yet he walked with a self-assurance and calm I had rarely seen even in generals and nobles of the Empire. His companions clearly deferred to him. I found myself bowing, as I would to a learned rabbi or holy man.

            "Stand up." He said as he gripped my arms. "I'm just an ordinary man, like you or anyone else." Still talking with me, he entered my home.  There I had assembled my household and my guests. Peter seemed to be perfectly at ease. But his companions acted as if they were standing in the middle of a sewer. Peter began.

            "I need not tell you that a Jew is forbidden  by the faith of Israel to visit or associate with those of other races and faiths. Yet in a recent vision, God has shown me clearly that I must call no one unclean or profane. That is why I have come at your request."

Then I told him of the vision that I had received. I invited him to share with us any message he might have from God.

            "It is clear to me now, that God plays no favorites." said Peter.  "In every nation the man or the woman who honors God and lives uprightly is acceptable in God's sight." Then Peter went on to tell us of Jesus of Nazareth, the long-awaited Messiah sent from God, the Lord of all peoples and nations. Peter spoke of the wondrous healings and miracles he himself had witnessed. He shared with us many wise teachings and deep sayings. He spoke of the forgiveness of sins and shortcomings by God and of the offer of new and abundant life through this Jesus.

            And as Peter spoke, I realized that what he was saying was true. I felt within myself at last, a sureness that I, a simple soldier whose boots were stained with blood, was cherished and forgiven and cared for.  I felt such wholeness and acceptance as I had never known. The God I had previously believed in only with my mind, I now knew in my heart. I felt cleansed and loved.

Somehow or other, I knew that this Jesus had come from God. I knew all that Peter was teaching us was trustworthy and true. I felt the presence of this Jesus, the Holy Spirit of the Creator God, touching me!

            And as I looked around, I could see that all those I had invited were feeling it as well. And I was filled with joy that I had found the courage to bring them here.

Simon Peter hadn't even finished his sermon when the Spirit took hold of us. It broke forth from us in song, in chant, in word, in ecstatic prayer.  All at once we were crying and laughing and singing and praising God. 

            After all those years serving in the Legions of Rome, I thought that I had seen just about everything in the world worth seeing, done just about everything worth doing. I thought that I had experienced every kind of high and low, known every moment of joy and sadness this life had to offer.  But this...  this was unlike anything I had ever known.

            As I peered out through my laughter and my tears, I looked at Peter. He had turned to confront that half dozen former Pharisees who had accompanied him to my home. Their previous scorn and sneers had been replaced with astonishment. How could God have done such a thing they seemed to want to ask. How could the gift of God's own Holy Spirit fall on a group of unclean gentiles? It was clear that all their old expectations and prejudices had been turned totally upside down.

            "Are any of you now prepared to withhold the waters of Baptism from these newest brothers and sisters?" Peter demanded of them. "Can you not see that they have received the Holy Spirit, just as we did ourselves?" He challenged them. Then, like a officer on the drill field, he commanded that I and my household and my family and my friends and my neighbors and fellow God-seekers be immediately baptized. And none were willing to deny him.

            That was many years ago. It was quite a row that Peter raised with the brothers and sisters in Jerusalem when he baptized us. Many of them, I suspect, wanted to control the spread of our faith. They saw themselves still as Jews, as Pharisees blessed with a new revelation for Judaism.

            All of us Samaritans and Greek-speaking Jews and women and gentiles upset their view. They didn't understand that our Lord Jesus had come for all men and women, all peoples and nations.  They wanted to fence in the Spirit of God, just as the Pharisees had fenced in the Law of Moses.  They wanted to control us, to control the growth of the family of our Lord. With the best of intentions, they thought that they could put a handle on God's work in the world and restrict the Divine Plan to one nation, one people, one land.

            It didn't work out that way. I am very old now, and I've seen so much more than I could have ever imagined on that day so long ago. I saw Jerusalem rebel and fall before the Legions of Rome. The church in Jerusalem was all but wiped out in that conquest. But God had provided for the Gospel to be preserved and spread. Through the witness of Gentile believers like myself, I have seen my Lord's word grow out of Judea, out of Asia Minor, across the Mediterranean all the way to Rome herself!

            I may well not live to see it. But I believe with all my heart that some day the Gospel will conquer the world. And I, and my family, and Simon Peter, and my friends, and all of us will be united at our Lord's Table in faith and hope with men and women of all races, of generations yet unborn, in lands as yet uncharted. And then, one day, I believe that I shall at last look upon the face of our Lord when He returns to earth to rule in peace and in glory! What wonders of faith I have seen!  What wonders remain to be seen!

            Let us pray.

            It is hard, Lord Jesus to have to courage to share our faith.  Something inside makes us hesitate when we have opportunities to witness.  We are fearful of ridicule, of embarrassment, of revealing too much of our selves to others. Help us to recall at those moments your promise to be with us.  Help us to find the courage within to testify, to share, to offer the good news of forgiveness and acceptance and purpose with our families, our neighbors, our friends, those honest God-seekers whom we encounter.  This we ask in your Holy Name.                  Amen.