24.06 | One More Move

Luke 7:1-17

'Now a centurion had a servant who was sick and at the point of death, who was highly valued by him. When the centurion heard about Jesus, he sent to him elders of the Jews, asking him to come and heal his servant.’

Luke 7:2-3

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There’s a story about a painting in the Louvre that I recently heard.

The painting is called ‘Checkmate,’¹ and it was painted by 19th Century German painter Moritz Retzsch. In the painting, Retzsch depicts a person playing chess against the devil. It looks like the devil has the man in checkmate, and so the devil relaxes smugly in his chair, sensing an impending victory.

In the story that I heard, a man was visiting the Louvre. Most in the Louvre move fairly quickly past Retzsch’s piece, hoping to get a view of the far more famous Mona Lisa. But this particular man stopped with Retzsch’s painting, spending a long time gazing thoughtfully at it.

After a while, he was asked why he was spending so long with this picture.

The man responded that he was a grandmaster chess player, and that he was puzzled by the title of the painting. Because the man in the picture, he said, was not in checkmate. Rather, his king had one more move he could make—a move that would spin the game on its head and turn the seeming defeat into a glorious victory.

We join Jesus today at the moment of utter defeat and despair in these two stories.

The first is of the Roman centurion, whose servant is ill, and, we read, ‘at the point of death.’ The doctors have done all they can. Things are desperate. Checkmate.

The second story is of a widow, who’s grief at losing her husband has now been even more greatly devastated in the loss of her only son. The body is literally being carried out before Jesus and His disciples. Her raw grief is on show. It’s a scene of desperation beyond all hope.

There are seasons and days when we feel so much more aware of defeat than we do of anything else. We feel like the options have closed down, like our experience is loss and fear and sickness and sadness and pain. Those things or people we’d relied on are no longer reliable, and those answers we’d hoped for didn’t work out. In these moments our panicky hearts are left feeling like we’re completely out of options. We feel the lurid gaze of the enemy, smugly awaiting our downfall. It feels like checkmate.

But here’s the thing:

The King has one more move. 

No matter how deep the darkness and how strong the fear and how many the problems—our King always has one more move. 

For the centurion, it was the invasion of his desperation in his requested help from this rabbi—a desperate final throw of the dice, all hope thrown onto this final chance that this rabbi does indeed have the kind of authority that can dismiss any kind of sickness or pain or darkness with but a word of command. As his servant jumps out of what should have been his deathbed, the centurion must have been wide-eyed with wonder. 

The King had one more move.

For the grieving widow, we can only imagine her offence as Jesus interrupted the funeral. Her confusion as He approached—and touched—the open coffin. And then her gasping wonder, disbelief, and sobbing joy at her living, breathing son coming down off and being handed back to her. She didn’t even ask for His help. 

But the King had one more move.

Things can look desperate. Our enemy mocks and declares our situation hopeless.

But here is the thing, child of God. You are seen; you are known; you are loved. 

And your King always has one more move.

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Reflect:

Where do I feel the taunting of the enemy today, suggesting life is hopeless?

Take heart. Your King has one more move. Settle your gaze upon Him afresh today, turning this to prayer.

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Pray:

There’s too much grief,

Too much pain,

Too few answers,

And it rarely looks easy.

I know the feeling of being mocked and taunted by my enemy;

I know the feeling of hopelessness;

I know the fear of being abandoned.

And yet,

My King,

When you arrive,

There is healing;

There is freedom;

There is life—

With but a word from your lips

And a touch of your hand.

And so,

King of endless authority,

Touch my dying places,

And speak to my sickness;

Thwart the enemy,

And may this moment be inverted into the joy of wonder.

King Jesus, in Your Name,

Amen

Old Testament: 

For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:

Isaiah 14-16 | Psalm 78:21-39

1. Or Die Schachspieler (‘The Chess Players’)