The Defeat of Death

Not "Did It Happen?" But "Does It Apply to Me?"

So glad you've made it here this morning. I think most of you have been here before, but if it's your first time, welcome. I'm Pastor Lucas, and it's my privilege and deep honor to share this moment with you as we look at just a portion of scripture and what it means to celebrate resurrection.

All over the world on this day, there are Easter messages happening — resurrection, Jesus coming back to life, messages from pulpits everywhere. And what we preachers often do — and it's a good thing — is seek to convince the skeptic. The skeptic who comes to church maybe once a year. This is our one chance. And the family members in the pews are like, get them, Pastor. And what we often try to do is convince through evidence that the resurrection is real — use proofs to help you understand that it's a historical fact that Jesus came out of that tomb, and that the other theories that are put forward don't hold any water. We try to prove it through those kinds of arguments or explain it from scripture. And I think there's a place for that. We'll return to that kind of thing here for sure.

But some of us don't need a reminder that it's true. I think what some of us need is to know whether the benefit of it applies to me.

I think what keeps a lot of people out of church — have you ever asked somebody to come to church and they say, "Oh, that's not really for me"? Now, what they might mean is: church has too many rules. Too many "don't do this, don't do that. " Even the Ten Commandments is too many, man. I just don't want to hear it. Maybe that's what they mean. But I wonder if, even when that's what they say, what they really mean is: I don't belong in church because church is for good people. Church is for people with the right resume. If you knew who I really was, if you knew my real background, you wouldn't even ask me to come, because I don't fit.

So this morning, I want to speak to that struggle — not the struggle of "did the resurrection happen, " but the struggle of "does he grant the benefit of the resurrection to me, to someone like me? Could he do that? Does he do that? I don't think he does that. "

Well, this passage in Luke — and we're moving straight through the Gospel of Luke, not skipping a beat, this is just the passage today — it's not Jesus' resurrection, but it's a resurrection that Jesus grants. And it helps us understand the question of, if Jesus looks out over a crowd of people who are spiritually dead, to whom does he point and say, "I'm resurrecting you"? Everybody doesn't get it, so who gets it?

And for the person who thinks, well, the good people get it — that's actually backwards. What we'll see throughout all of scripture, but especially in today's passage, is that's the wrong way to think about it. It's really the reverse of that. So let's look at it.

We're in Luke chapter seven. And what we're going to look at, there are two brief stories back to back that Luke places here. Luke didn't record everything that Jesus did — that would be too long of a book. But he selectively curated certain events, and he took these two and put them together right here in chapter seven. What we're going to see in these two brief episodes is that Jesus brings someone back from the brink of death, and then immediately after that, Jesus brings someone back from total death. One of them is extremely amazing, and then the next one is just absolutely dumbfounding. But in these two short stories, we gain insight — not just into the power Jesus has to bring someone back from the dead, to defeat death — but also into whom he grants that. That's the main thing, right? If Jesus died and rose again and applies that to people out there somewhere, okay, that's cool, but does it work for me? Would he do that for me? That's what we're going to see here. And if you've been around the Bible a little bit but never paid close attention to how it spells out salvation, the answer might surprise you.

The Centurion: Unworthy, and That's Exactly Right

So first, let me introduce you to an unnamed Roman centurion. His name doesn't really matter — I'm sure people knew his name, but Luke doesn't give it to us. It doesn't matter so much because what's important is not who he is, but what kind of person he is.

This Roman centurion was a member of the occupying force in Israel. You wouldn't immediately think of this guy as a good guy. He's one of the soldiers occupying your homeland. If you were a Jewish child going to synagogue on the weekends, you'd hear the Old Testament stories read about how God plucked his people out of Egypt and brought them into a land not their own, and how by God's miraculous power they expelled the Canaanite forces. But they're reading that in a context of: now Rome is in charge. Rome came in and said, "Oh, this is ours now. You can live here, but this is ours. " And this Roman centurion is one of them. He's not a lower underling either — a centurion, as the name implies, commands a century, about 100 troops. He's a company commander. He's got influence, clout, power, authority. And he's a Gentile.

So he's not one of the Jewish people worshiping in the synagogues. But interestingly, he's not exactly what he seems on the surface. Let's read the first portion.

So right there, you're going, okay, he doesn't seem like he should be worthy, but actually he is worthy — he loves the Jewish people, he even built their synagogue. And it's interesting that the centurion sends Jewish elders to go ask Jesus. We don't know if these elders had any faith in Jesus. They might have been some of the very ones who eventually pushed for his crucifixion — we don't know. Some believed in Jesus, most didn't at that time. But they knew it was a good idea to have a Roman centurion on their side. We don't want to lose this guy, or we don't want him to lose one of his key people. Let's keep this going. And so they go to Jesus to make the request.

Luke tells us what these Jewish leaders said about him — that there was something about Israel and about their worship that the centurion admires. He wants them to have their synagogues. He wants them to worship this God he keeps hearing about. And now he's heard of Jesus and believes Jesus can do something for his prized servant. This servant is someone he greatly values. This would be like Sherlock Holmes losing Watson or Batman losing Alfred. It messes things up. This isn't a doorman or a cook — this is a servant who runs things, and the centurion desperately needs him to live. He hears about this man named Jesus who's healing people, and he thinks, well, his servant isn't blind, isn't deaf, can walk just fine — but he's about to die. And he believes Jesus can do something about it.

He sends the Jewish elders to make the request out of sheer desperation. The elders are like, "Hey, you should do this, Jesus — he's worthy. " Jesus doesn't say anything, but he goes. Verse six.

So the Jewish elders go to Jesus and say, "Go help this guy — he's worthy. " And then the centurion's own personal message arrives: "Stop right there. Don't come any closer. I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy to have you come under my roof. "

Think about when you have a guest over. You want to honor them — you reserve the comfiest chair, you clean up, you offer them something to drink. The centurion is thinking, how would I do any of that for Jesus? How can I make Jesus comfortable when he's the Prince of Peace? How can I clean up my house and make it ready for Jesus when he sees right through me to my dirtiest detail? What am I going to offer him — a glass of water? He created water. He walks on water. I can't have him in my house. I'm not worthy to have him under my roof. I'm not even worthy to go out and tell him myself. But I know he's powerful enough to do it from a distance.

And Jesus doesn't correct that thinking. He doesn't say, "No, no, no — I heard you built the synagogue, you're being too modest, you are worthy. " He doesn't argue it, he doesn't contradict it. In fact, he admires it. He marvels. Why? Because the centurion is right. He isn't worthy. And Jesus turns to the crowd and says, "I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith. "

The centurion never actually meets Jesus in this passage. He sends the Jewish elders first. Then, as Jesus draws near, he sends friends to say, "Don't come under my roof. " He doesn't meet him. He never shakes his hand. And yet what happens? Those who were sent return to the house and find the servant well.

Key to this event: a servant was right at the edge of death, and his unworthy master reached out to the only worthy master of all things. And Jesus admires that, and Jesus grants the servant life.

It's striking — Jesus can heal with a touch, we've seen that. He can heal with a spoken command; the centurion himself says, "I know you can say the word. " But Luke's account doesn't even report any saying, any command. Jesus doesn't shout. He doesn't project his voice toward the house. He turns to the crowd and says, "That's faith. " And then they go home and the servant was healed. He doesn't even need to utter anything out loud. He's not a magician — he doesn't need an incantation, a spell, a wand, or perfect conditions. He can just think it, and it is.

Jesus contrasts this with Israel. Because Israel, as you read through scripture, often fell into the trap of feeling like they deserved it. "We're the chosen ones. " Well, yes — but not if you don't have faith. And so Jesus says, "I'd rather have someone who doesn't know the book, didn't grow up in the environment, wouldn't call himself religious, but demonstrates faith that I am able to reach the most unworthy from a distance. " That's faith.

So if the question is, can I be good enough for Jesus to rescue me? — the answer is no. But the irony of the gospel is that Jesus rescues those who recognize they're not worthy to be rescued. Jesus doesn't help those who help themselves. Jesus helps those who recognize they can't.

Genuine faith recognizes not only Jesus' power to administer mercy, but that he administers it to those who don't deserve it and know they don't deserve it. That's the backwardness of it. It's counterintuitive. It's when you realize you can't meet any of the conditions of being right with God that you've gotten to the right place.

The Widow's Son: Pure Compassion, No Conditions

Now, why does Luke follow this up with a second, similar episode? Because coming out of the centurion paragraph, I think the question you're left with is: why would Jesus do that? If I'm unworthy, why does he say, "Okay, you recognize you're unworthy? I'm going to heal you anyway. " You know why I'm unworthy? I'm unworthy because I've been an enemy of Christ. Because I break God's laws. Because I disobey his commands and I want to be my own God. I disrespect him all the time. So why would he go, "I'm going to resurrect this guy even though he's been antagonistic toward me"? Why would he do that?

And the answer is compassion. Love.

That's why Luke follows up with this second amazing episode — not bringing someone back from the brink of death, but bringing someone back from total death. This person is completely gone and comes back. Look at verses 11 through 17.

Picture the scenario. This woman lost her husband, but at least she had this son. Maybe the husband on his deathbed said, "All right, son, you've got the farm now. Take care of your mother. Make sure things are in order. " And the son said, "I got this. " And the mother thought, "Everything we built together as a family goes to this son. He'll carry it forward. " And now — he's dead. In that society, she has nothing. No husband, no son, no heir, no status, no claim on anything of importance. The whole crowd is there, everyone feeling for this woman.

And then Luke leads with the motivation before he shows you what Jesus does. "When the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her. "

He didn't wait for her to ask. The centurion had asked. But in this case, Jesus is simply walking along. He sees her plight. And Jesus goes to her. No remote healing from a distance this time — he stops the pallbearers, and he touches what he's not supposed to touch. A corpse. That would have made a Jewish man ceremonially unclean. Jesus doesn't care. He's not uncomfortable getting close. He meets this woman right where she is.

And all she has to offer is grief and sorrow over something she can't do anything about. There is nothing here about what makes her worthy to have her son raised, or what makes the son worthy to be raised. She doesn't even ask. She doesn't meet any conditions except sorrow and total loss. His motivation is not what he can get out of her. It's not what she promises to do. There's no deal — "If you give me back my son, he'll go live in the temple. " Nothing like that. She has nothing but grief over something she cannot control but that Jesus can do something about.

It wouldn't be compassion if there was something she could barter with. And compare that to what the Jewish elders said about the centurion — "Jesus, we need this man. He built the synagogue. It's strategic to do it. " There's no strategy here for anyone except her. His motivation is sheer compassion.

And what was the reaction of all those people — the crowds from the town, the disciples following Jesus, everyone watching? Fear and worship.

We don't normally put those two together. We think of fear as watching a horror movie, or hearing something in the kitchen at night, or getting surrounded at the gas pump. That's what we think of when we think of fear. But we don't associate that with worship. This is different. It's not "oh my goodness, Jesus is going to kill us. " It's awe with reverence. It's the kind of awe that the word "awful" used to carry before we ruined it. Full of awe. And "awesome" — we've trivialize that one too. "Oh, that's awesome, you got a new job. " Are you really struck with awe that they got that job? The kind of fear and awe happening in this crowd is something else entirely.

They are dumbstruck. Someone couldn't walk — okay, amazing. Leprosy reversed — the skin is clean now. A man picked up his mat and walked. A man was almost dead and then he wasn't. Those things are astounding. But this? They knew this man was dead. And now he's sitting up and talking. What is going on with this guy? The kind of fear that seized them was the kind that recognizes Jesus is not just a man. And when he demonstrates this capability, they glorify God — because it's actually good news that not only does somebody have that kind of power, but somebody is willing to wield it to the benefit of someone who doesn't deserve it.

If there's hope for the widow, there's hope for me.

And they glorify God because this great prophet who has arisen among them and is visiting his people is fulfilling everything the Old Testament promised. That even though you are just a valley of dry bones — like the text that was read for us earlier — the Spirit can make those bones come to life. You don't make yourself come to life.

Resurrection for the Unworthy — Including You

So how do we receive the resurrection benefit of Jesus? It's not by recognizing how much I have to do. "I'm going to make a New Year's resolution — it's a little late now, we're in April, but I still have time. I can make this year really count. " No. That will never get you up to par. Instead, you come to a place like the centurion, who recognized he's not worthy but believed Jesus was powerful enough to do it anyway. You come to a place like the people in this story who recognized that this hope extends to everybody.

It's interesting — the passage doesn't give us the mother's reaction; it gives us everybody else's reaction. Of course her reaction is going to be similar. But it wasn't their son that died. So what's all the fear and the worship about? It's because this hope extends to everyone who recognizes they're unworthy. And what did they do? They started reporting about it. In verse 17, word spreads through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country. Word gets out because it's not about a widow or a centurion. It's about people coming to Christ who recognize that even though we're unworthy to have him, he will have us — if we come to grips with the fact that we're unworthy, and that the only way to God the Father is through Jesus.

What we learn through this double set of paragraphs is that a resurrected life begins with faith that Jesus is powerful enough to help even the most unworthy among us.

Which means you don't have to clean yourself up to come to Jesus. You don't have to pre-qualify, because we can't. You just have to see yourself rightly and see Jesus rightly. How do we see ourselves rightly? As unworthy. How do we see Jesus rightly? That even though we're unworthy, he's moved with compassion to save.

That's the gospel truth. Following Jesus means you repent of the fact that you're not worthy and you believe on Jesus. You cling to him by faith for the fact that he can save you anyway — whatever you've done. Whatever trash is in your background, whatever garbage others have heaped upon you, the shame and the guilt and the various ways that you wear it and carry it — you don't have to carry anymore. That's the point of the cross.

Why have people been excited about this figure, Jesus, for thousands of years? Why does it persist in affluent places and in places where people have nothing? Why are people dying for the name? It's because you can't think of greater news. Wherever you are, Jesus' resurrection power can meet you there.

And the good news of what Jesus accomplishes in his own resurrection — and these two stories are a preview of it, right? The servant from the brink of death, the son from death — those are previews. The coming attraction is Jesus' own resurrection. He raises himself from the dead. He doesn't need someone else to come and do it. He does it himself. It's mind-blowing, but that's the main event.

And what that means is that what Jesus offers those who repent of their unworthiness and cling to him by faith is a resurrected life — not just in the future, not just in the new heaven and new earth (and we've talked a lot about that here at CFC), but a resurrected life now. Because we are spiritually dead on the inside because of sin, and we need new hearts. That's what Jesus grants. We need to be revived. We need to be brought back from the dead, spiritually speaking.