The Question of Worth and Authority: Lessons from an Unlikely Faith

In a world obsessed with self-validation, where coffee mugs and social media posts constantly remind us that "we are enough" and "we are worthy," there's a profound truth we desperately need to hear: We aren't enough. And that's exactly where transformation begins.

A Roman Warrior's Humility

Consider the remarkable encounter between a Roman centurion and Jesus in Matthew 8. This wasn't just any soldier—a centurion commanded a hundred men, having worked his way up through the brutal ranks of the most powerful military force in the ancient world. He was a man of influence, authority, and respect. In that culture, he could have demanded anything from anyone.

Yet when this battle-hardened warrior approached Jesus, he did something completely out of character. He pleaded. He begged for help, not for himself, but for his servant—a paralyzed young man who, in that society, had no value whatsoever. Most Romans would have discarded a disabled servant like broken pottery. But this centurion cared deeply.

Even more remarkable was how he addressed Jesus: "Lord." This wasn't casual conversation. This was a man of highest rank giving honor to a common-looking Jewish carpenter. And then came the words that stopped Jesus in his tracks: "I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but just say the word, and my servant will be healed."

The Power of a Spoken Word

The centurion understood something profound about authority. He explained, "I too am a man under authority, with soldiers under my command. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes."

He recognized that Jesus operated under a greater authority—the authority of God Himself. And if Jesus simply spoke a word, creation itself would obey. No touch needed. No physical presence required. Just a word.

This is the same creative power that spoke the universe into existence. "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light." The same voice that called forth galaxies could certainly heal a paralyzed boy from miles away.

The centurion's faith wasn't in a method or a formula. It was in the Person who had ultimate authority over all creation.

Jesus Was Amazed

Scripture tells us that Jesus was amazed at this man's faith. Think about that—the One who knows everything, to whom nothing has ever "occurred" because He's always known all things, was amazed. There are only two times in the Gospels where Jesus expresses amazement: once at great faith (this centurion) and once at great unbelief (his hometown of Nazareth).

This Roman outsider, this Gentile warrior, demonstrated greater faith than all of Israel. He understood what many religious people missed: worthiness and authority don't belong to us. They belong to Jesus alone.

From Physical Healing to Eternal Salvation

But here's where the story takes an even deeper turn. Jesus used this physical healing to point to something far greater—eternal salvation.

He declared, "I tell you, many will come from east and west to share in the banquet with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

The miracle wasn't the main point. It never is in Scripture. Physical healings are signs pointing to spiritual reality. They authenticate the messenger and demonstrate authority, but they're always temporary. Even the healed leper from the previous chapter would eventually die physically. The paralyzed servant, though miraculously restored, would one day face physical death.

The ultimate healing is spiritual—forgiveness of sins and eternal life with God.

The Supper Bowl That Matters

Millions gather around televisions for championship games, investing emotional energy in contests that will be forgotten within days. Trophies gather dust. Rings sit in cases. The excitement fades.

But Jesus speaks of another supper—an eternal banquet in the kingdom of heaven where people from every nation will gather. This feast doesn't belong to the self-righteous or the culturally religious who assume they're "good enough." It belongs to those who, like the centurion, recognize their unworthiness and bow before the One who is truly worthy.

The Uncomfortable Truth About Hell

Jesus Himself spoke more about hell than anyone else in Scripture. He warned, "Fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." He described it as outer darkness with weeping and gnashing of teeth—not symbolic language, but literal reality.

Here's a sobering insight: the doctrine of hell isn't primarily meant to frighten unbelievers. It's meant to warn those who think themselves believers—those who assume they're okay with God because they live decent lives or believe correct facts, but have never truly repented and submitted to Christ's authority.

What Real Manhood Looks Like

The centurion provides a powerful picture of authentic strength—not because he commanded soldiers or won battles, but because he recognized ultimate authority and submitted to it. He cared for the defenseless. He showed generosity to people who were prejudiced against him. He demonstrated humility despite his rank.

Real strength isn't found in asserting our own authority, but in recognizing and submitting to the One who has true authority.

You Are Not Enough—And That's Good News

The cultural messages telling us "you are enough" and "you are worthy" are band-aids on gunshot wounds. They provide temporary comfort but no real healing.

The Apostle Paul's self-assessment evolved throughout his ministry. Early on, he called himself "the least of the apostles." Later, "the least of all saints." Finally, "the chief of sinners." The deeper he went in the gospel, the more he recognized his unworthiness—and the more he marveled at Christ's worthiness.

True healing begins when we stop trying to validate ourselves and recognize that we're not enough. We don't measure up. We're not worthy. But Jesus is. And when we submit to Him—the worthy One, the One with ultimate authority—everything changes.

The Invitation

Revelation describes a scene in heaven where twenty-four elders cast their crowns before God's throne, declaring, "Worthy is the Lamb who was slaughtered to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing."

That's the response of those who truly understand who Jesus is. He lived the perfect life we couldn't live, died the death we deserved, conquered death like no one else ever has, and offers us a seat at His eternal table—not because we're worthy, but because He is.

The question isn't whether you're good enough. You're not, and neither am I. The question is whether you'll recognize the One who is worthy and has authority, and bow before Him in repentance and faith.

That's where real life begins.