The Roman Soldier
My sermon this year is dedicated to our troops in thanksgiving for those service men and women returning home from Iraq this holiday season and to remember those still serving in Afghanistan and in far away lands. This Christmas sermon is called “The Roman Soldier.”
“My name used to be Marcus Regulus a centurion in Rome’s 10th Legion. Some of us are preparing to leave this foreign land after nine years of service. The men are tired and battle wearied. The insurrections in Jerusalem have taken their toll. They all want to go home – except me.
There is uneasiness in my heart ever since we crucified the man they call Jesus a fortnight ago. There was something strange and terrifying that day. Rarely do the condemned speak from the cross; but Jesus did. When he said, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do,” it was like an arrow pierced me. It was as if he was speaking to me. I was frightened. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself.
Never before have I weakened against an enemy with axe or sword. I gave commands and I took commands. But here in the shadow of the cross, I knelt down and began to tremble in front of this naked vulnerable man. Then I just blurted it out. It came from some place deep in me when I said, “This is the Son of God!”
Some wall within me crumbled. All that I knew of the world – power, riches, fame and fortune – turned to ashes. The man on the cross who I now believed was the Messiah altered whatever illusions I had about my life, whatever myths I believed about life. This understanding did not come at once. It was when I heard him speak earlier to an older woman and young man at the foot of the cross, “Woman, behold your son.” I recognized the woman from somewhere in my past.
She was older now. Her hair was streaked with gray and she was fuller and rounder; and her face was a cascade of tears. “I know this woman!” I thought to myself. As I beheld how she looked at Jesus as only a mother can, I remembered. I remembered a night a long time ago when in my youth I was witness to a great star over my childhood home of Bethlehem.
Few know that I am from Bethlehem. The Romans believe I am from Britannia but I was born in Bethlehem. My parents died after I was born and so I was raised with my mother’s family who were shepherds. My given name then was Mark and I was filled with an eleven year old’s sense of wonder and curiosity.
One clear cold night while watching my uncle’s sheep with my cousin Jacob, we noticed a strange movement in the sky. The stars quickened and began to twist and turn like a wheel on a cart. I know you may not believe this but a large group of stars began to fuse together to form one great bright shining star.
There came with the spinning star a humming sound like bees in summer. There were voices singing and the word BEHOLD filled my head and other words, I BRING YOU GOOD NEWS resounded and echoed in me and around me. Suddenly there was a line of light – more like a bridge of light – coming from the great star down into Bethlehem.
Curiosity got the best of us. Jacob and I forgot our flock of sheep and followed the light into the town. There was an inn that seemed to be at the light’s end so I knocked on the door to see if anyone knew what was happening. A frightened voice growled back, “It’s late. There are no rooms left!” Jacob tugged at my tunic and pointed to the back of the inn where the light ended at a stable. We heard animal noises – cattle, sheep, and horses, even a donkey.
Coming closer to the stable we could hear the humming again. It was as if people, scores of people were singing. And there in the center of everything was the baby cradled in the arms of his mother. It was her face. It was this woman who I would see thirty years later at the foot of the cross.
Then she was younger, thinner, paler, but held the same dignity, the same, if I may say it, majesty. All I could do at that moment was kneel. Jacob did too. And we beheld the child as the humming voices continued to singing, “GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST AND PEACE TO HIS PEOPLE ON EARTH.”
How long we remained in the stable I cannot say. At first light we left as the father of the baby beckoned the mother that they must soon be on their way. It was not long after that King Herod issued a terrible order to find the first born of each family.
I did not know what it all meant; but when Herod’s storm troopers took my uncle away for questioning and beat up my cousin Jacob, I fled. I ran as far away from Bethlehem as I could. I was a coward and it would take the rest of my life to prove that I wasn’t.
I joined a caravan that brought me to the port town of Caesarea. There, I stowed away on a merchant ship bound for Britannica. While on board I was caught stealing food from the table of a tin merchant named Joseph who was from the Judean town of Arithmathea. He was a kindly man, who took pity on me and forgave me. Giving me to food to eat, Joseph allowed me to work as his servant for the rest of the voyage
In Britannica, Joseph introduced me to his trading partner, Arrius Regulus, who eventually took me in and raised me among his own children. My name was changed from Mark to the more Roman name of Marcus Regulus. In the Regulus household I learned about the glory of Rome and how it ruled the world. As I matured I forgot my past and looked forward to a life as a Roman citizen of this powerful Empire.
Still hungry for adventure and wanting to prove that I was not a coward I bid farewell to the Regulus family and when of age joined Rome’s famous 9th Legion. Over the next thirty years I proved a trusted and fearless warrior and rose easily through the ranks until I was promoted to centurion in charge of 100 Roman soldiers. There came a call for experienced centurions in Judea. Quick advancement was promised and I was more than glad to prove myself. Without hesitation, I joined the 10th Legion of Rome garrisoned in Jerusalem. There, I was promoted to primus, the first among equals.
Over the months I’ve been stationed in Jerusalem I heard stories of a promised messiah who came in the guise of a teacher from Nazareth who was doing deeds of power and teaching about another kingdom, a kingdom not of Rome but a Kingdom of God. The teacher spoke of the coming reign of God where all would be citizens of another kingdom whether they be slave or free, Jew or Gentile, male or female.
This kingdom, he preached about, would be one where the lion and the lamb would lie down together, where spears would be turned into pruning hooks. News of the carpenter’s son spread far and wide so that people from all over Judea followed him. That is when the authorities became frightened and thought he would start another insurrection; and so they arrested the teacher and sentenced him to death.
I do not like executions and leave that to more junior soldiers. But, I was asked by my superiors to have my men cover the perimeter of the hill called Golgotha. I thought it would be another routine punishment. But, listening to Jesus’ words of forgiveness and seeing his mother again, I realized that I was a witness at both his birth and his death. I kneeled for the second time in my life again near the mother and the son. By giving his life, he gave me my life. Now I know, it is not his death that lives within me now. It is his birth in Bethlehem.
At Jesus’ birth my name was Mark, a shepherd boy, filled with wonder and adventure. Here now in this place of unspeakable sorrow, I remembered the star, the humming and the singing, and I realized that I am more Mark now than I am Marcus. I remembered who I am and whose I was. Jesus’ birth changed everything. What was inside the stable was bigger than our whole world.
It is all so clear to me now. I believe a sure as I stand here that the Bethlehem we seek is around us and within us. The gift at Bethlehem is that the manger lies in every human heart.
Jesus is born again and again every time we give ourselves in compassion and mercy to others just as God gives us a life to live through his Son.
My troops are pulling out of Jerusalem now and heading west to Caesarea. I go north to Galilee. There are reports that Jesus did not die but rose from the dead and that he is alive appearing to his disciples in Galilee.
I must go and find him for he is my peace. And when I find him I will praise him for his goodness and mercy.
Go tell it on the mountain, over the fields and through the plain that one of God’s lost sheep returns to his fold all because of the child who became a king.”
Bless His Holy Name,
MARK of Bethlehem
My sermon this year is dedicated to our troops in thanksgiving for those service men and women returning home from Iraq this holiday season and to remember those still serving in Afghanistan and in far away lands. This Christmas sermon is called “The Roman Soldier.”
“My name used to be Marcus Regulus a centurion in Rome’s 10th Legion. Some of us are preparing to leave this foreign land after nine years of service. The men are tired and battle wearied. The insurrections in Jerusalem have taken their toll. They all want to go home – except me.
There is uneasiness in my heart ever since we crucified the man they call Jesus a fortnight ago. There was something strange and terrifying that day. Rarely do the condemned speak from the cross; but Jesus did. When he said, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do,” it was like an arrow pierced me. It was as if he was speaking to me. I was frightened. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself.
Never before have I weakened against an enemy with axe or sword. I gave commands and I took commands. But here in the shadow of the cross, I knelt down and began to tremble in front of this naked vulnerable man. Then I just blurted it out. It came from some place deep in me when I said, “This is the Son of God!”
Some wall within me crumbled. All that I knew of the world – power, riches, fame and fortune – turned to ashes. The man on the cross who I now believed was the Messiah altered whatever illusions I had about my life, whatever myths I believed about life. This understanding did not come at once. It was when I heard him speak earlier to an older woman and young man at the foot of the cross, “Woman, behold your son.” I recognized the woman from somewhere in my past.
She was older now. Her hair was streaked with gray and she was fuller and rounder; and her face was a cascade of tears. “I know this woman!” I thought to myself. As I beheld how she looked at Jesus as only a mother can, I remembered. I remembered a night a long time ago when in my youth I was witness to a great star over my childhood home of Bethlehem.
Few know that I am from Bethlehem. The Romans believe I am from Britannia but I was born in Bethlehem. My parents died after I was born and so I was raised with my mother’s family who were shepherds. My given name then was Mark and I was filled with an eleven year old’s sense of wonder and curiosity.
One clear cold night while watching my uncle’s sheep with my cousin Jacob, we noticed a strange movement in the sky. The stars quickened and began to twist and turn like a wheel on a cart. I know you may not believe this but a large group of stars began to fuse together to form one great bright shining star.
There came with the spinning star a humming sound like bees in summer. There were voices singing and the word BEHOLD filled my head and other words, I BRING YOU GOOD NEWS resounded and echoed in me and around me. Suddenly there was a line of light – more like a bridge of light – coming from the great star down into Bethlehem.
Curiosity got the best of us. Jacob and I forgot our flock of sheep and followed the light into the town. There was an inn that seemed to be at the light’s end so I knocked on the door to see if anyone knew what was happening. A frightened voice growled back, “It’s late. There are no rooms left!” Jacob tugged at my tunic and pointed to the back of the inn where the light ended at a stable. We heard animal noises – cattle, sheep, and horses, even a donkey.
Coming closer to the stable we could hear the humming again. It was as if people, scores of people were singing. And there in the center of everything was the baby cradled in the arms of his mother. It was her face. It was this woman who I would see thirty years later at the foot of the cross.
Then she was younger, thinner, paler, but held the same dignity, the same, if I may say it, majesty. All I could do at that moment was kneel. Jacob did too. And we beheld the child as the humming voices continued to singing, “GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST AND PEACE TO HIS PEOPLE ON EARTH.”
How long we remained in the stable I cannot say. At first light we left as the father of the baby beckoned the mother that they must soon be on their way. It was not long after that King Herod issued a terrible order to find the first born of each family.
I did not know what it all meant; but when Herod’s storm troopers took my uncle away for questioning and beat up my cousin Jacob, I fled. I ran as far away from Bethlehem as I could. I was a coward and it would take the rest of my life to prove that I wasn’t.
I joined a caravan that brought me to the port town of Caesarea. There, I stowed away on a merchant ship bound for Britannica. While on board I was caught stealing food from the table of a tin merchant named Joseph who was from the Judean town of Arithmathea. He was a kindly man, who took pity on me and forgave me. Giving me to food to eat, Joseph allowed me to work as his servant for the rest of the voyage
In Britannica, Joseph introduced me to his trading partner, Arrius Regulus, who eventually took me in and raised me among his own children. My name was changed from Mark to the more Roman name of Marcus Regulus. In the Regulus household I learned about the glory of Rome and how it ruled the world. As I matured I forgot my past and looked forward to a life as a Roman citizen of this powerful Empire.
Still hungry for adventure and wanting to prove that I was not a coward I bid farewell to the Regulus family and when of age joined Rome’s famous 9th Legion. Over the next thirty years I proved a trusted and fearless warrior and rose easily through the ranks until I was promoted to centurion in charge of 100 Roman soldiers. There came a call for experienced centurions in Judea. Quick advancement was promised and I was more than glad to prove myself. Without hesitation, I joined the 10th Legion of Rome garrisoned in Jerusalem. There, I was promoted to primus, the first among equals.
Over the months I’ve been stationed in Jerusalem I heard stories of a promised messiah who came in the guise of a teacher from Nazareth who was doing deeds of power and teaching about another kingdom, a kingdom not of Rome but a Kingdom of God. The teacher spoke of the coming reign of God where all would be citizens of another kingdom whether they be slave or free, Jew or Gentile, male or female.
This kingdom, he preached about, would be one where the lion and the lamb would lie down together, where spears would be turned into pruning hooks. News of the carpenter’s son spread far and wide so that people from all over Judea followed him. That is when the authorities became frightened and thought he would start another insurrection; and so they arrested the teacher and sentenced him to death.
I do not like executions and leave that to more junior soldiers. But, I was asked by my superiors to have my men cover the perimeter of the hill called Golgotha. I thought it would be another routine punishment. But, listening to Jesus’ words of forgiveness and seeing his mother again, I realized that I was a witness at both his birth and his death. I kneeled for the second time in my life again near the mother and the son. By giving his life, he gave me my life. Now I know, it is not his death that lives within me now. It is his birth in Bethlehem.
At Jesus’ birth my name was Mark, a shepherd boy, filled with wonder and adventure. Here now in this place of unspeakable sorrow, I remembered the star, the humming and the singing, and I realized that I am more Mark now than I am Marcus. I remembered who I am and whose I was. Jesus’ birth changed everything. What was inside the stable was bigger than our whole world.
It is all so clear to me now. I believe a sure as I stand here that the Bethlehem we seek is around us and within us. The gift at Bethlehem is that the manger lies in every human heart.
Jesus is born again and again every time we give ourselves in compassion and mercy to others just as God gives us a life to live through his Son.
My troops are pulling out of Jerusalem now and heading west to Caesarea. I go north to Galilee. There are reports that Jesus did not die but rose from the dead and that he is alive appearing to his disciples in Galilee.
I must go and find him for he is my peace. And when I find him I will praise him for his goodness and mercy.
Go tell it on the mountain, over the fields and through the plain that one of God’s lost sheep returns to his fold all because of the child who became a king.”
Bless His Holy Name,
MARK of Bethlehem
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