Speaker 1: I want to add to this discussion the Roman centurion who was the only other person who Jesus marveled at their faith. Him and the Syrophoenician woman. Two outsiders. The centurion understood something about authority and faith that Israel didn’t.
Speaker 2: Yes. That belongs directly in this discussion, and I think the “two outsiders” observation is especially significant.
In Matthew’s account, the centurion says:
“I also am a man under authority, having soldiers under me…” (Matthew 8:9)
He recognizes that Jesus does not need to go somewhere, touch someone, perform a ritual, or struggle against the sickness. He understands authority. A person who genuinely possesses authority simply gives the command, and what is under that authority responds.
And Jesus’ response is striking:
“When Jesus heard it, he marveled…” (Matthew 8:10)
Then Jesus explicitly contrasts the centurion with Israel: “I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel.”
That fits beautifully with what we’ve been developing around Matthew 17. The disciples had been given authority (Matthew 10:1; Luke 9:1), yet in Matthew 17 they encounter something that doesn’t move. Their response ultimately becomes, Why couldn’t we do it? Jesus’ answer points them toward faith—not toward the absence of delegated authority.
The centurion seems to understand the relationship almost instinctively:
I am under authority → therefore I exercise authority → I speak → those under that authority obey.
And notice what he doesn’t seem to imagine: that recognizing his dependence upon a higher authority somehow means he possesses no authority himself. Quite the opposite. Being under authority is precisely how he understands having authority.
That connects powerfully to Jesus’ own relationship with the Father. Jesus can say, in effect, I do nothing of Myself, without that meaning, therefore I can do nothing. His union, submission, and dependence upon the Father are not the negation of authority; they’re the context in which His authority operates.
Then there is the Syrophoenician/Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21–28 and Mark 7:24–30. She’s another outsider, and Jesus says:
“O woman, great is your faith!” (Matthew 15:28)
Her insight is different but related. She refuses to interpret the apparent obstacle as evidence that there is no provision available to her. Even the crumbs are enough. She sees something about the abundance and reach of what is present in Jesus that apparently many insiders aren’t seeing.
So we have this fascinating pairing:
The centurion: I understand authority. You only need to speak.
The woman: I understand abundance. Even the crumbs are enough.
Both are outsiders.
Both recognize something in Jesus that the covenant insiders are largely failing to recognize.
Both receive extraordinary commendation concerning their faith.
And there’s an even sharper connection to your developing thesis about faith as certainty rather than uncertainty.
Neither approaches Jesus with the posture, Maybe God will do something; let’s hope. The centurion is so certain of Jesus’ authority that he tells Him not even to bother coming to the house. The woman is so persuaded of what is available in Jesus that even an apparent refusal doesn’t persuade her otherwise.
That makes the centurion particularly valuable for the Word/mirror/abiding thread you want to return to. If Jesus is revealing what life in union with the Father looks like, then the lesson isn’t merely, “Look how powerful Jesus was.” The question becomes:
What did the centurion recognize about Jesus’ relationship to authority that Jesus’ own disciples had not yet learned to recognize about the authority Jesus was giving them?
That question takes us straight back into Matthew 17.
Speaker 1: Certainty – he assumed that it was going to happen. They were sure that they would receive what they asked for. They were expectant. They didn’t doubt in their heart. Even with initial ignoring their request and saying no.
Speaker 2: Yes. I think expectation is the piece that sharpens what you mean by faith is certainty.
The centurion does not appear to be testing whether Jesus might be able to heal his servant. His reasoning begins with the assumption that Jesus’ word is sufficient:
“Only speak a word, and my servant will be healed.” — Matthew 8:8
That’s remarkable. He isn’t asking Jesus to try. He doesn’t even need Jesus physically present. His certainty rests on what he believes about Jesus’ authority. If you say it, it will happen.
And the Syrophoenician woman may make the point even more dramatically because her certainty survives apparent contradiction.
She cries out—and Jesus initially doesn’t answer her (Matthew 15:23).
She continues.
Jesus tells her that He was sent to the lost sheep of Israel.
She comes closer, worships Him, and asks again.
Then comes the statement about the children’s bread and the dogs.
And still she doesn’t leave.
That’s important for what we’re exploring because her persistence isn’t necessarily evidence that she’s trying to manufacture enough faith to change Jesus’ mind. She seems already convinced that the thing she needs is in Him. Every apparent obstacle fails to dislodge that conviction.
Then:
“O woman, great is your faith! Let it be to you as you desire.” — Matthew 15:28
And her daughter is healed.
So I’d put these beside Mark 11:23–24:
“…does not doubt in his heart, but believes that those things he says will be done…”
and:
“Whatever things you ask when you pray, believe that you receive them…”
That language is much closer to expectation than religious wishing.
And now there’s an interesting contrast with Matthew 17.
The centurion: “Say the word. It will happen.”
The woman: “Even your apparent no doesn’t convince me that I leave here without what I came for.”
The disciples in Matthew 17: “Why couldn’t we?”
Jesus: “Because of your unbelief/little faith.”
That raises a really important possibility for our Matthew 17 discussion: perhaps the disciples’ problem wasn’t that they lacked some sufficient quantity of spiritual power. They had already been given authority. The failure occurred when what they encountered contradicted what they expected—and the contradiction became more persuasive than the authority Jesus had given them.
That also makes Jesus’ mustard-seed statement fascinating. The point may not be you need a gigantic amount of faith. A mustard seed is tiny. The issue is the absence of the divided heart: “does not doubt in his heart.”
And that gives us a useful distinction:
Hope: Maybe He will.
Belief: I think He will.
Faith as you’re describing it: I have asked because I am persuaded of who He is. Therefore I expect the thing I have asked for.
Not emotional certainty. Not psyching yourself into feeling confident. Not pretending contradictory circumstances don’t exist.
Persuasion that produces expectation.
And the two people Jesus singles out for extraordinary faith are outsiders who, remarkably, seem to approach Him that way before His own disciples fully understand it.