The Centurion, a Picture of the Perfect Mind

There is an excellent picture of this perfect mind in the centurion in the gospel. Such was his strength and steadiness that he was not carried away by the rush of thoughts, but by his own judgment either let in the good ones or easily drove away those of the opposite kind. This is described in figurative form: “For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I say to this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” Suppose we too fight manfully against disturbances and sins, and can bring them under our own control and judgment. Suppose we fight and destroy the passions in our flesh, bring the swarm of our thoughts under the rule of reason, and drive the terrible armies of the powers opposed to us out of our hearts by the life-giving standard of the Lord’s cross. Then, as the reward for such triumphs, we will be promoted to the rank of that centurion, understood spiritually. Moses pointed to him in a hidden sense, as we read in Exodus: “Appoint for yourself rulers of thousands, and of hundreds, and of fifties, and of tens.” So we too, when raised to the height of this rank, will have the same right and power to command. We will not be carried away by thoughts against our will, but will be able to stay with and cling to those that delight us spiritually. We will command the evil suggestions to depart, and they will depart; to the good ones we will say, “Come,” and they will come. To our servant too, that is, the body, we will give orders in the same way about what belongs to chastity and self-control, and it will serve us without any objection. It will no longer stir up in us the hostile incitements of craving, but will show complete submission to the spirit. What the arms of this centurion are like, and what use they serve in battle, hear the blessed apostle declare: “The arms of our warfare,” he says, “are not fleshly, but mighty for God.” He tells us their character: they are not fleshly or weak, but spiritual and mighty for God. Then he suggests in what struggles they are to be used: “for pulling down fortifications, purging the thoughts, and every height that lifts itself up against the knowledge of God, and bringing every understanding captive into the obedience of Christ, and being ready to punish all disobedience, when your own obedience has first been fulfilled.” To go through these one by one would be useful, but it belongs to another time. I only want you to see the different kinds of these arms and what they are like, since we too ought always to walk with them buckled on, if we mean to fight the Lord’s battles and serve among the centurions of the gospel. “Take,” he says, “the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the evil one.” Faith, then, is what intercepts the flaming darts of lust and destroys them by the fear of the judgment to come and by belief in the heavenly kingdom. “And the breastplate,” he says, “of love.” This is what goes around the vital parts of the chest and protects what lies open to the deadly wounds of swelling thoughts. It keeps off the blows aimed at it, and does not let the darts of the devil get through to our inner man. For it “endures all things, suffers all things, bears all things.” “And for a helmet, the hope of salvation.” The helmet is what protects the head. Since Christ is our head, we ought always, in every temptation and persecution, to protect it with the hope of the good things to come, and above all to keep our faith in him whole and undefiled. For someone who has lost other parts of the body may still survive, weak as he may be; but no one is granted even a short time of life without a head. “And the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” For it is “sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and it discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart,” since it divides and cuts off whatever fleshly and earthly things it finds in us. Whoever is protected by these arms will always be defended from the weapons and raids of his enemies. He will not be led away bound in his plunderers’ chains, a captive and a prisoner, to the hostile land of empty thoughts, nor will he hear the prophet’s words: “Why have you grown old in a foreign country?” Instead he will stand like a triumphant conqueror in the land of thoughts he has chosen. Would you also understand the strength and courage of this centurion, by which he bears these arms that we spoke of as not fleshly but mighty for God? Hear how the King himself picks out and approves brave men when he calls them to the spiritual combat. “Let the weak say, ‘I am strong,’” he says; and, “Let the one who suffers become a warrior.” You see, then, that none but those who suffer and those who are weak can fight the Lord’s battles. They are weak, indeed, with that weakness on which that centurion of ours in the gospel relied when he said with confidence, “For when I am weak, then I am strong,” and again, “For strength is made perfect in weakness.” Of this weakness one of the prophets says, “And the one who is weak among them will be like the house of David.” For the one who suffers patiently will fight these wars, with that patience of which it is said, “You need patience, so that, doing the will of God, you may receive the reward.” [a]