Miraculous Healing by Jesus in Capernaum: A Centurion’s Account

Matthew 8:5-13 & Luke 7:1-10

     This is the personal account of Lucius Gaius Victor, Centurion assigned to the garrison at Capernaum.   Known to most as simply Victor, this Centurion was witness to many miracles and teachings of Jesus, the Nazarene.

This is his story.

  As I strolled along the sea wall I looked out at Galilee.  The sun had disappeared behind the mountain, with only a sliver of orange illuminating my way to the city gates.  Along the rocky beach the silhouettes of fishing boats were stacked, awaiting the morning’s launch.  Only the sound of the lapping water could be heard.  I was eager to make my way to my small domicile on the furthermost side of Capernaum.  

Capernaum is a pretty town, with trees stretching heavenward over blue water that teems with fish. It is especially captivating when it is bathed in the orange light of sunset.

                I have taken lodging away from the garrison which is west of the town. It looks over the Galilee and the city. The garrison is filled with young soldiers that revel in drink and games of chance well into the night.  I have come to enjoy the quiet of my house and the fresh air that wafts in off the water.

Being a soldier of the Caesar I am not allowed to have a family of my own and the Jews in this city are like my family.  They have treated me well, and many have become my friends. It is a mutually beneficial relationship. I keep the soldiers at bay allowing the inhabitants freedom from abuse. In return, the people sell goods to the garrison at a reasonable rate. This arrangement offers all peace.

I have been in the Roman Military most of my life, taken from my homeland when I was just twelve, I was assigned to a centurion. I was house boy, armory and protégée. I learned the art of war and murder and worked through the ranks. But now, I have grown weary of war, blood and murder.

I have made a lot of money from the spoils of war.  Much too much for one man, as I need very little.  I donated a part of my wealth to my Jewish friends so that they could complete their synagogue.  Because of this gift, I am invited to the outer court to fellowship with them.

                   My time in the Caesar’s service is soon to come to an end and I have decided to stay in Capernaum to finish my days.  Capernaum is a lively town with travelers that trek along the Misa roadway.  Many stop to lodge on their way to Damascus.  There is a wide trade community and though most of the residents of the town are fishermen, they also benefit from the travelers.  It is my hope to find a wife and enjoy a civilian’s life. 

Maybe there will still be time for children.

                Capernaum owes part of its boom to a man that has earned notoriety. They call him Jesus the Nazarene. He is a controversial young man, and the stories of his exploits are very interesting. He is capable of miraculous things. I have seen him heal people. They come from all around the region to hear him speak. He teaches of love and forgiveness. He says that anyone that believes that he is the son of God, that is the Jewish God, they can be forgiven. He says that God loves them like they are his children.

I have not seen nor felt love in this world only death. Could what he speaks of have truth?

                To many he is a teacher or Rabbi but to others he is a heretic. There are people that say he is league with the devil. I do not claim to understand the Jewish, but I do not believe this Jesus means any harm. His message is one of love not of fear.

                He has made the city his headquarters. Several of the local fisherman have joined him in his travels.  He goes from town-to-town teaching and healing. I have stood outside the synagogue and listened to him. I have watched him with the infirmed and children. He is a gentle man filled with brimming compassion for the people.  He heals and opens his arms to all that come to him.  The stories of his power are endless. People come to the markets with stories of miraculous things he is said to have done.

Many of these stories inflame the priest. I admit I do not understand their anger. Jesus speaks of the same God they serve. He teaches of freedom, love and forgiveness, is this not favorable to what they teach?

                  It has been not that long ago that Jesus taught in the synagogue, and many came to hear him.  They pressed in on one another to hear the words of this man.  Some believed him to be the Messiah, the one for whom the Jews have waited so long to save them from the oppression of Rome.  Whatever he is, I know he is different from any man I have met.  He has a quiet strength and yet an authority that I recognize.  His words are filled with authority, and I have no doubt he commands great power.  

                 Even the demons respond to him without hesitation.  I was near the day a possessed man was at the synagogue where Jesus was teaching. The man was yelling out strange things.

 “What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are – the Holy One of God!”   He spat the words from frothy lips. His smell was worse than death itself. The synagogue became silent. I crept closer, peering between the crowd.

                Jesus turned to the man, “Be quiet!” he said sternly then commanded. “Come out of him!”  

The man began to shake violently, his body twisted unnaturally, and an unholy shriek emanated from within him.  The unclean spirit left him. Silence hung between the walls for a moment then the murmurs began. I left the courtyard, my mind burdened.  Who was this man?  

                The next day as I patrolled the marketplace I heard the Jews talking about Jesus healing a fisherman’s mother-in-law.  She was suffering from a fever.  The fisherman was Simon, a man I have dealt with before.  It is said that this Jesus rebuked the fever, and it left her, and she was well enough to stand and begin waiting on the visitors. 

                I was thinking about these events as I approached my lodgings, I was surprised at first and then alarmed.  The house was not lit, and smoke did not curl from the chimney.  I entered the house and found an oil lamp, and upon lighting it I called out to Titus, my servant, but there was no answer.  I walked to the food preparation area.  The light pried into the darkness and there on the floor lay Titus.  I bent down, and holding the lamp close to his face, I whispered his name.  Eyes wide and dark looked back, with tears streaking the young man’s face. 

     I had seen this many times.  He had palsy.  His body was contorted from the seizures. His hands were folded in, and his legs were drawn to his belly.

     “Titus, hang on.  I am going for help.”  I lit another lamp, not wanting to leave my faithful man alone in the dark.  I went to the house next to mine.  Together with the help of their servant girl, I took Titus to his bed.  The lower part of his body was useless and dangled as I carried him.  His breath was labored, and his body was soaked with fever.  It seemed that my every step brought him great pain.  He struggled to speak but I assured him that it was time to rest and be well.  I left the servant girl to care for him and went outside to speak to my friend.

                  “It is the palsy.” My neighbor spoke barely above a whisper, and I nodded.  Holding the lamp between us he continued.  “His time is short.  It will not be a pleasant end; soon he will no longer be able to draw in air.  Maybe you should bring him comfort now.”

                 I knew what he meant, and the very thought twisted my bowels. I could not bear to think of extinguishing Titus’ life.  I had no more stomach for death. 

                 “Where is the Jew Jesus?”  I blurted out.  “He could heal Titus.”  I leaned in, “Would you and the others go to him on my behalf?  I am not a Jew and dare not speak or ask the Rabbi for this, but you are a pious and good Jew; he would listen to you.”

                   “I am not sure, Victor.”  He paused and I could see that he was considering what to do.  “I will go and talk to the others.” 

                  He left, and the light left with him.  I stood in the darkness looking up and down the lane, as lights burned in windows and smoke curled lazily into the night, wondering if the Nazarene would answer my plea.  I reentered the house when I heard the cries of Titus.  He screamed in agony; tormented by the creeping death as it moved up, almost as if it were gobbling him up piece by piece. 

                 It was a couple of hours when I heard the approach of the sandals on the doorway.  Titus had finally quieted himself.  I opened the door and walked out to meet them.  I knew that they could not enter my home because they would be unclean.

     “Well?”  I impatiently breathed.

                 “Victor we will go and search out this Jesus.  We have heard that he is on his way here and should arrive today.”

                  “Please go and meet him.  Plead my case.  Ask him to heal Titus.”

                 The men looked from one to another.  “When morning comes, we will go to meet the Nazarene.”

                 “Thank you, thank you my friends.”  I stood and watched them leave, and their images faded into the night.  I reentered my house and went to Titus.  “Titus do not worry.  My friends are going to bring the Jewish healer Jesus to heal you.  You will soon be healthy and fit.”  I met his eyes and I saw him relax.  He knew that I would keep my word.

                 I sent word to the garrison that I would not be there today but would be staying in the city.  Soon after the messenger left, a young man rapped at the door.  I hurried to open it.  The young man was excited and had trouble forming his words in a coherent sentence. 

     Gulping air, the messenger blurted out, “The Nazarene, he is here, coming into the gates.  He is coming to heal your servant, sir.”

               I felt my heart leap.  “This is wonderful news!  I need for you to send word to this Rabbi.  Tell him that there is no reason for him to come all the way to the domicile.  Tell him, ‘Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof.  That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed.  For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me.  I tell this one, “Go”’ and he goes; and that one, “Come,” and he comes.  I say to my servant, “Do this,” and he does it.’”

               The young man looked at me confused.  He struggled with understanding my command he stood staring.  “Do as I say!”   My voice boomed in the small brick alleyway.  He startled, and then took off down the pavement toward the main thoroughfare.  I followed behind at a safe distance.  Partway through the city, I saw the Nazarene, with a swell of people behind him.  Simon broke from the crowd to meet the young messenger.  The disciple relayed the message and the eyes of Jesus found me.  He nodded.  Then he turned to address the crowd.  They became silent, eager to hear what he would say. 

                Raising his hands, Jesus spoke to the crowd. “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”  He looked back to me and smiled.

                 It was then that I heard my name called and I turned to return to my house.  Titus stood at the doorway.  He was healed and showed no signs of being ill.  Instead, he looked more robust than ever before.  Not long after my return, my friends hurried up to the crowd that had gathered at my door.  They marveled at his recovery.

               By only his word the boy was made whole.  Without knowing the illness or seeing him, by a nod he was healed.  What man is this to command all things and show full sovereignty?

                I told anyone that would listen my story and Titus too shared his experience with others. People came by to see the miracle and others stared when Titus was running errands in the city or marketplace.

I saw the Nazarene several more times and became a follower. One day word came that Jesus had been crucified. I had attended several crucifixions, and I knew the anguish he had suffered.

                Many believed that Jesus’ death would end the healing, the teaching, the freedom of thousands but they were wrong. The cross did not end all he had done; it was the beginning of what was to come. The testimonies of the healed and saved filtered through the towns. I had my own testimony to share, and I did. The fishermen and others that traveled with him dispersed throughout the countries preaching and penning letters.  

                I still live in Capernaum. After my discharge I found a wife that knew the Nazarene. We open our home every time one of disciples come through. I freed Titus and he has formed a church in his town.

I no longer live for Caesar but for Jesus my sovereign Lord.

Lucius Gaius Victor