At every Mass, before Jesus enters under the roof of our mouth in Holy Communion, we repeat the words of this pagan, this centurion: this man who displayed the greatest faith Jesus had seen:
“Lord, I am not worth that you should enter under my roof…”
The centurion is begging Jesus to save a beloved servant who is dying; we are begging Jesus to save our perishing souls. In our Gospel, Jesus does not enter the man’s house but, moved by his faith, grants his request. Though the soldier was a Gentile, his faith in Jesus was such that God was able to do something mighty in his life. Yet there in our pew we repeat his words as we kneel before the great mystery of the Blessed Sacrament, the living Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, appearing to us as simple bread and wine, a bit of food and a drop of drink that we profess contains the whole living Reality of the Son of God. Great faith is needed here!
And yet Jesus is not satisfied with simply coming as far as the altar: unlike with the centurion Jesus does deign to enter under our unworthy roof and heal our souls, stirring what might be almost dead back to life again. Why?
The servant in our Gospel was in danger of losing his mortal life; the centurion was asking Jesus to save that life. But for us Jesus is far less concerned about our perishing flesh than He is about our souls! Does He not promise resurrection for our bodies? He desires Heaven—eternal, loving union—for us, with us. “…I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly,” our Good Shepherd says (John 10:10-11). What life is this? “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…” (John 14:6), He says, for “What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race,” (John 1:3-5). He restored the fullness of mortal life to the servant; He gives eternal life—Himself—to us in the Blessed Sacrament. We admit our unworthiness before Him, demonstrating humility, and yet He comes, for “…a humble contrite heart…” He will not refuse (Psalm 51:19).