Imagine you’re a recent college graduate, and you’ve been looking for a job for a while. This won’t take a lot of imagination for some of you in this room. Now imagine that you’ve received several offers, but upon learning more about the roles and the companies, you decide, for one reason or another, that they’re not a good fit. Then you learn about an opening at your dream company. You get so excited, quickly accept the role, and move your family across the country.

A few months into the job, you begin to experience some difficulties: friction with coworkers, a sense that you’re not as competent as you’d like to be, and an overbearing boss. You might start asking yourself, “Was this the right job, or should I have taken another?”

That feeling of “did I make the right decision?” is exactly what today’s passage addresses. But instead of something temporary and reversible, like a job choice, it’s about something we’re all staking our lives on.

Toward the end of this morning’s passage, the messengers of John the Baptist ask a question of Jesus that, if we’re honest, each of us has asked at some point. John is in jail with a death sentence. Jesus has not come to be his knight in shining armor, and John expresses honest doubt.

Maybe you’ve been checking out church for some time but haven’t fully committed, and you’re asking this question right now.

The question is: “Jesus, are you the one who was to come, or shall we look for another?” Is Jesus the one who is to come—the one we should stake our hopes on—or is there another we should be seeking? We are all going to stake our hope and happiness, our significance and security, somewhere. Is Jesus where we should go “all in”? This passage strikes at the very identity of Jesus.

So, is Jesus the one to come? At the risk of spoiling the ending, the answer is an exuberant YES! The big idea of Luke 7:1–35 is that Jesus is the one who was to come.

But how can we know this? Luke gives us three reasons:

1. He heals with a word (vv. 1–10),
2. He raises the dead (vv. 11–17),
3. He delivers on every promise (vv. 18–35).

HE HEALS WITH A WORD (vv. 1–10)

Over the last few weeks, we’ve been covering what is often called the Sermon on the Plain—a series of teachings from Jesus about what life in the new kingdom looks like. We’ve been learning a lot about what Jesus’ kingdom people do. Today, we’re looking at a portion of Scripture that teaches us about Jesus the King, and we’re going to see several things that demonstrate his identity.

First, Jesus heals with a word.

The first scene in our passage describes Jesus’ interaction with a Roman centurion—a leader who oversees one hundred soldiers—who has a sick servant. There are a number of surprising elements in this situation.

This hardened Roman soldier turns out to be a kind man. The centurion apparently had a strong relationship with the Jews. He sends elders of the Jews to Jesus, and they not only deliver the message but personally advocate for him as well.

“He is worthy to have you do this for him, for he loves our nation, and he is the one who built us our synagogue.”

Apparently, his reputation as an incredibly kind and generous man preceded him. Now, does loving the Jewish nation and building a synagogue mean that he has earned the right for Jesus to bestow healing on his servant? Absolutely not. The elders clearly have a conflict of interest—they are acting in their own interest—but Jesus acts by grace, not works.

With that said, Jesus begins heading toward the centurion’s house. Before he arrives, another group of messengers meets him along the way and reveals something else about the centurion. They convey this message:

“Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.”

Here’s why the centurion is significant—not because he is impressive in himself, but because he recognizes Jesus for who he is.

He calls Jesus “Lord” and recognizes his power to heal with a word. This Roman centurion was likely accustomed to exercising authority and getting his way, yet he comes before Jesus with remarkable humility.

The centurion also demonstrates faith. As a military man, he uses a military analogy:

“For I too am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me: and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

What does this mean? In the same way that a commander can issue orders and expect immediate obedience, the entire world is under the authority of Jesus. All he needs to do is speak, and sickness will immediately leave his servant—even from a distance.

This leader of one hundred soldiers humbles himself before Jesus. He recognizes Jesus’ authority and entrusts the healing of his servant into Jesus’ hands.

Interestingly, Jesus seems to be taken aback by this unexpected Gentile’s faith:

“I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.”

Earlier in Luke, we’ve seen people marvel at Jesus’ words and works, but here the roles are reversed—Jesus marvels. Remember, this centurion is a Gentile, not a Jew. In fact, this is the first time in Luke’s Gospel that Jesus interacts with a Gentile at all, and the first one he encounters does not hesitate—he believes.

Luke is signaling something important: Jesus’ authority and grace were never meant to stop at the borders of Israel. Though this centurion was far from God’s covenant people by birth, he possessed what many of the Jews lacked—faith.

So how do we take this personally?

The centurion’s response is instructive. He doesn’t approach Jesus with entitlement or try to negotiate. There’s no strategy, no maneuvering—just humility. He recognizes who Jesus is and responds accordingly.

Let’s cultivate that same humility—one grounded in who Jesus is. This isn’t false humility for its own sake, but a genuine “thinking of yourself less” because your eyes are fixed on him. When you truly see Jesus for who he is—the one who commands sickness with a word, whose authority transcends time and space—the only fitting response is to bow the knee.

You are never too rich or too poor, never too disqualified by your background. Anyone who comes to Jesus like the centurion—with the empty hands of faith—will be received.

So, is Jesus the one who is to come? Surely, yes. Even a Roman centurion saw it. And we know it’s true because he heals with a word.

Let’s move to our second point.

HE RAISES THE DEAD (vv. 11–17)

Second, Jesus raises the dead.

There is a change of scenery as Jesus goes to a town called Nain. There he encounters a widow whose only son has died and is being carried out. A widow losing her only child is a compounded sorrow—this is the kind of deep pain that draws a large crowd. Not only that, a woman without a husband or a son would be left without immediate family to provide for her. Caring for widows was a community responsibility in Old Testament Israel, and it remains one of the church’s great joys even today.

Jesus sees the widow and has compassion on her. Just as the centurion knew that Jesus could heal with a word, here we see that his compassion moves him to act again. He touches the corpse—something that would normally render a person ceremonially unclean—as an expression of his compassion. Then he speaks to the lifeless body:

“Young man, I say to you, arise.”

Immediately, the young man sits up and begins to speak.

What’s especially striking is the response of the crowd:

“Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has arisen among us!’ and ‘God has visited his people!’”

Why do they say that?

This event echoes a similar incident in the lives of the Old Testament prophets Elijah and Elisha. Consider the account from Elijah’s ministry in 1 Kings 17 and note the contrasts:

“After this the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, became ill. And his illness was so severe that there was no breath left in him. And she said to Elijah, ‘What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son!’”

In both accounts, a son has tragically died.

“And he said to her, ‘Give me your son.’ And he took him from her arms and carried him up into the upper chamber where he lodged and laid him on his own bed. And he cried to the Lord, ‘O Lord my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I sojourn, by killing her son?’ Then he stretched himself upon the child three times and cried to the Lord, ‘O Lord my God, let this child’s life come into him again.’”

Here’s where the contrast becomes clear. Elijah stretches himself over the child and pleads with the Lord to restore life. Jesus, by contrast, speaks directly with divine authority: “Young man, I say to you, arise.”

“And the Lord listened to the voice of Elijah. And the life of the child came into him again, and he revived. And Elijah took the child and brought him down from the upper chamber into the house and delivered him to his mother. And Elijah said, ‘See, your son lives.’ And the woman said to Elijah, ‘Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.’”

In both cases, the widows are restored. Elijah is recognized as a man of God with the word of the Lord in his mouth. But of Jesus, the people say, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God has visited his people!”

So, is Jesus the one who was to come? This second encounter adds another resounding yes. Jesus is greater than Elijah and Elisha—he does not merely pray for life to return; he commands it. He gives life to the dead.

Before moving to the third point, how should we respond to this revelation of who Jesus is? Notice how the crowd responds:

“Fear seized them all, and they glorified God…”

This isn’t polite applause, like at a golf tournament. This is overwhelming awe. They recognize that they are in the presence of divine power.

Our world has largely lost this kind of fear and awe. But Scripture consistently calls us back to it. As one scholar puts it, the fear of the Lord means standing in awe of him, recognizing his greatness, and not treating him lightly.

Fear God. Stand in awe of his uncontrollable power. And glorify him.

The crowd leaves talking about God. They witness Jesus’ miraculous work with their eyes, and the result is that they cannot help but praise him with their mouths.

What has God done for you? How might testifying to his work put his power on display—drawing you to fear him and glorify him?

He is the LORD.

Let’s move to the third and final point.