Walking on to a bustling site, I often found builders walking on eggshells around me. They seemed to believe I held some kind of absolute, personal power.
But my authority wasn't my own.
It was entirely delegated.
My ability to approve or halt work came strictly from the legislation I operated under.
It wasn't about my personality; it was about the system I represented.
This practical lesson in authority always brings me back to a story from the Gospel of Luke 7:1-10, concerning a Roman centurion.
This man, a military officer, understood the chain of command perfectly.
He knew what it meant to be under authority, and what it meant to exercise it.
When his highly valued servant fell gravely ill and was about to die, the centurion sent for Jesus.
But unlike many who sought out Jesus for physical signs or dramatic rituals, the centurion simply asked Jesus to “say the word”.
He recognised that Jesus possessed an authority over sickness that went far beyond any human jurisdiction.
He didn't need a spectacle; he just trusted the command.
What is most striking about this encounter is not the healing itself, but the reaction of Jesus.
The Gospel tells us that Jesus “marvelled” at the centurion.
In all the recorded accounts of Jesus’ life, there are only two instances where He is described as being amazed.
Once was at the complete lack of faith in His own home town.
The other was here, at the profound faith of a Gentile (non-Jew) “outsider”.
Jesus declared to the crowd, “I say to you, not even in Israel have I found such great faith.”
This is a staggering statement.
The religious leaders of the day were constantly demanding signs and proof that He was from God, yet it was a Roman officer who truly understood the heart of being a follower of Jesus.
The centurion’s faith was deeply rooted in humility.
He knew his own unworthiness, yet he possessed a bold certainty that Jesus’ spoken word was enough.
The Roman officer returned home to find his servant restored to full health.
Today, it seems we often struggle to find that same kind of quiet trust.
We live in a culture that demands visual proof.
We hear stories of modern-day miracles — like “gold dust” falling from church ceilings — that, upon closer inspection, turn out to be nothing more than plastic glitter.
This eagerness to see the divine in every unusual occurrence can actually point to a weakness of faith, rather than its strength.
We try to prop up God’s reality with cheap tricks, forgetting that true faith does not require sight.
The centurion teaches us that genuine faith is about recognising who Jesus is and trusting His authority, even when we cannot see Him at work.
It is about moving past the need for constant validation and resting in the assurance of His word.
As we go about our daily lives here in Echuca, perhaps we should ask ourselves: are we looking for the glitter, or are we, like the centurion, simply trusting the word?
Pastor David McAllan, Echuca Community Church
19°C