When Jesus came down from the mountain, a leper came to him and said, Lord, if you will, you can make me clean. How respectful was the understanding and faith of the leper in drawing near. For he did not interrupt the teaching or break into the gathering. He waited for the proper time and approached him only after he came down.

With great fervor before Jesus’ knees, the leper pleaded with him^[1] with sincere faith. He discerned who Jesus was. He did not state conditionally, If you request it of God or If you pray for me. Rather, he said simply, If you will, you can make me clean. He did not pray, Lord, cleanse me. Rather, he leaves everything to the Lord and makes his own recovery depend entirely on him. Thus he testified that all authority belongs to him.

One might ask, What if the leper had been mistaken in this assumption? If he had been mistaken, wouldn’t it have been fitting for the Lord to reprove him and set him straight? But did he do this? No. Quite to the contrary, Jesus established and confirmed exactly what he had said.

Jesus did not say, Be clean, but rather responded to the leper’s assumption, saying, I will. Be clean. This left no doubt as to whether the leper’s assumption was correct. Jesus simply approved it.

The apostles would speak from an entirely different assumption when they later said to the amazed crowd, Why do you stare at us as though by our own power or piety we have made him walk?^[1] The Lord, who often spoke with modesty, obscuring his own glory, speaks here in a way so as to establish the opinion of those who were amazed at his authority: I will. Be clean. Many and great were the signs that he would offer, but only here has he uttered this distinctive word about his own authority. Jesus confirmed the assumption with respect to his authority by purposely adding, I will. The important thing was not that he said this but that he responded approvingly to what was being said and confirmed it. The cleansing followed immediately.

It was an ancient law that the leper when cleansed should not entrust the recognition of his cleansing to private judgment but should show himself to the priest. By this means it would be confirmed in his own eyes, and he could then be numbered among the clean. For if the priest had not corroborated it, he would have remained outside the camp among the unclean.

Jesus did not imply that showing the healing to the priest was something he needed. Rather, he temporarily remits him to the law. This stopped every mouth. He did this lest others might claim that Jesus had arrogated to himself the priest’s honor. He performed the miracle himself, yet he entrusted its examination to the authorities and caused them to sit as judges of his own miracles. He was saying in effect: I am so far from struggling against Moses or the priests that I even guide those cleansed to submit themselves to the priests.

What then was the gift that was to be brought by the leper according to the law? Two small birds,^[1] one of which the priest killed over running water. Taking cedar wood and broken scarlet and hyssop and the living bird, he dipped them in the blood of the slain bird, over running water. He anointed the right ear, hand and foot of the leper who was cleansed.^[2] He sent the living bird outside the city, into the open field.^[3] Observe, therefore, how perfectly Christ depicts these things for us. By the living bird you may understand the living, heavenly Word. By the blood of the slain bird, you should understand the blood of our suffering Lord, for whom we say that he suffered in the flesh, rather than in his own body. The cedar is a wood not prone to rot. The incorruptible flesh, the body of Christ, did not see corruption.^[4] Hyssop symbolizes the effervescence, activity and power of the Spirit. Scarlet intends the confession of the covenant made with blood. The running water signifies the life-creating gift of baptism. . . . Through this baptism, whoever has become a leper through sin may be cleansed. The sending of the living bird outside of the city teaches us to abandon this world, as did Christ in his ascension into heaven. Having thus come into the presence of God the Father, he makes intercession for all of us, and we therefore shall be cleansed. By the anointing of the leper’s right ear, hand and foot, we are taught that we must be, in contemplation and in action and in our way of life, in touch with divine things.

What is meant by a proof to the people? It was for their reproof, or as a demonstration or for accusation if they should prove fickle. For since the religious professionals would call him a deceiver and imposter and persecute him as an adversary of God and transgressor of the law, he was prepared to say, You shall bear witness to me that I am not a transgressor of the law.

Some argue that the centurion, by his description, implied the reason why he had not brought his servant to Jesus, saying, Lord, my servant is lying paralyzed at home, in terrible distress, as though he was at his last gasp, or even, as Luke said, he was at the point of death.^[1] In my opinion, however, the reason he had not brought him in was itself a sign of his great faith, even much greater than those who let the patient down through the roof.^[2] Because the centurion knew for certain that even a mere command was enough for raising the servant up, he thought it unnecessary to bring him.

He uses the word boy^[1] here to indicate his house servant. Luke shows this clearly, calling him his slave or servant.^[2]

What did Jesus do? Something he had never done before. While on previous occasions he had responded to the wish of his supplicants, in this case he rather springs actively toward it. He offers not only to heal him but also to come to his house. By this we learn of the centurion’s excellent faith. For if he had not made this offer but rather had said, Go your way, let your servant be healed, we would not have known these things.

When the Lord promised to go to the centurion’s house to heal his servant, the centurion answered, Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed. By viewing himself as unworthy, he showed himself worthy for Christ to come not merely into his house but also into his heart. He would not have said this with such great faith and humility if he had not already welcomed in his heart the One who came into his house. It would have been no great joy for the Lord Jesus to enter into his house and not to enter his heart. For the Master of humility both by word and example sat down also in the house of a certain proud Pharisee, Simon, and though he sat down in his house, there was no place in his heart. For in his heart the Son of Man could not lay his head.^[1]

It is curious that when Martha, who was very dear to Jesus, said, I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give it to you,^[1] far from being praised, she was rebuked and corrected by the Lord as not having spoken quite fittingly. . . . For Jesus was teaching her that he himself is the fountain of all good things, the resurrection and the life, as if to say, I do not wait to receive active power but have it already in myself.

It was a sign of the centurion’s intelligence that merely by thinking to himself about what was likely, he believed such things about Christ. For he says, I also am a man. But nevertheless I am the lord over those I have received authority to rule. Therefore it is nothing strange if you, who have received authority from God, should be able to command illnesses to depart by a mere word. The centurion did not approach Jesus as one who is Son of God and Lord of the whole creation (for at that time, before the crucifixion, this was not yet known even by the disciples). Rather, he came to him as to a man who, because of his virtues, had received from God some greater-than-human authority. This is why he says, For I also am a man. For since he had said to him, say the word, and this might seem proper to God only, he rightly adds the statement, for I also am a man, as though to say, It is nothing surprising if you, a man who has received authority from God, should be able to do this thing, since I myself, a man like you, receive subjects and am set over them to command them as I will.

Jesus is found marveling at the centurion. He turns his attention to him and honors him with the gift of the kingdom. He calls others to the same zeal.

Now this man was a Gentile—he was, after all, a centurion. The Jewish nation already had troops of the Roman Empire among them. This man was in command of troops there, to the extent that a centurion could be in command. He was under authority, and he had authority. As a subordinate, he was obedient; as having subordinates, commanding. . . . Even if the Lord did not enter bodily into this man’s house, yet he was already so present in majesty that he healed his faith and his servant. Yet the same Lord had appeared in bodily presence among his own covenant people. He was not born in some other country. He did not suffer or walk or endure his human sufferings or do wonders in some other nation. None of all this took place in other nations. Yet through the centurion the prophecy was fulfilled that was spoken of him: A people whom I have not known has served me. And how did the centurion know him? By obeying me with the hearing of the ear.^[1]

Note how what you have heard in the Gospel as something to come has by now already happened. Jesus commends the centurion’s faith, whose flesh was alien but whose spirit was of the household of faith. It was to him that he said, Many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness. What sons of what kingdom? He is speaking of the people of the covenant, who received the law. To them the prophets were sent. To them was given the temple and the priesthood. They had celebrated the anticipations of things to come. Yet those things of which they would celebrate in figures they did not acknowledge in actual presence. This is why they shall be thrown into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.^[1] Odd, isn’t it? That they would be sent away, while the Christians would be called from the east and the west to the heavenly banquet to sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, whose bread is righteousness and whose cup is wisdom.

There is no coercion with God. He has a good will toward us continually. He gives reliable counsel to humans and angels (who also are rational beings), to whom he has given the power of choice. Those who yield obedience therefore possess what is good freely and justly. It is given by God but preserved by themselves. . . . The human spirit is possessed of free will from the beginning, and God is possessed of free will, in whose likeness humanity was created. Humanity is advised to hold fast to the good and thereby be responsive to God. This refers not only to works but faith as well. God preserved the human will free and under his own self-control . . . as is shown in Jesus’ word to the centurion: Go. Be it done for you as you have believed.

Though his wife’s mother had apparently been at home lying ill and sick of a fever, Peter did not press him to come to his house but waited first for his teaching to be finished and for many others to be healed. Only then did he seek him out. This suggests that from the beginning the disciples were careful not to put their private concerns above the common good. . . . Jesus entered of his own accord to Peter’s house to offer grace to his disciple. Think of what sort of houses these fishermen must have lived in. He did not hesitate to enter these tiny quarters, thereby teaching us all to trample pride underfoot.

Why didn’t anyone bring them by day? Maybe it was out of respect for the scribes and Pharisees, or like Nicodemus, from embarrassment at their infirmities. Maybe it was because the sick people had no one to carry them to Jesus.

Do you see how the multitude by this time was growing in faith? For even when the evening was descending, they continued to bring their sick to him. Though the time was limited, they did not even think of going home. Note that the Evangelist did not specify how great a multitude of persons were healed. He did not mention them one by one but in one word spanned an unspeakable sea of miracles, lest the spectacle’s greatness drive us again to curiosity or doubt that even so many with such varied diseases should be delivered and healed by him in one brief moment of time. Rather, he calls upon the prophet to attest what was happening. Once again this indicates the abundance of scriptural demonstrations we have that point to his identity. Isaiah had prophesied of just these things when he said, Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.^[1] Note that Isaiah did not say that he merely did away with our infirmities but that he himself bore them. Here Isaiah seems to be speaking of our sins being carried by him, in harmony with John, who said, Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.^[2] How does the Evangelist correlate infirmities and sins? He is either recollecting the Isaiah passage in its plain, historical sense, or he is pointing to the fact that most of our diseases arise from sins of our souls. For if the sum of all diseases, even death itself, has its root and foundation from sin, how much more is this true of most of our bodily diseases?

In this saying Isaiah pointed toward the cross. But why was this saying employed by the Evangelist at this point when he was speaking of his healings?^[1] This was to show that it was not in his activity alone but in his passion, his willingness to suffer, that Christ became the source of healing to humanity. By the indignities he endured and by his own death he prepared life for all humanity. He subdued those who were evilly disposed against themselves.