Aside from the Blessed Mother and the Beloved Disciple who kept vigil with the dying Jesus, the Roman centurion who had been watching over Jesus when he died could also be a model of adoration.

Probably the centurion guarded Jesus from his arrest to his death. Seeing Jesus betrayed, arrested, accused, humiliated, stripped, and brutally nailed to the cross, he surprisingly concluded, "This man is innocent" (Lk 23:47), and "Truly this is the Son of God." (Mt 27:54; Mk 15:30).

Already hardened by the many crucifixions he had supervised, he must have seen something new in Jesus. At the conclusion of this routine execution came a profession of faith in Jesus.

It was not just another crucifixion after all. It was the manifestation of innocence and of the Son of God. We learn from the centurion’s "adoration" that Jesus’ sacrifice of life cannot be appreciated for what it truly is unless the horror of the cross is confronted.

Mark’s Gospel says the centurion stood facing Jesus. Like any leader of guards, he kept careful watch over this criminal, Jesus. He did nothing but look at Jesus. Physical nearness was not enough however. He had to be intent, vigilant, and observant so that he could account for every detail.

We learn from the centurion to face Jesus, to keep watch over him, to behold him, to contemplate him.

At first the centurion spent hours watching over Jesus out of duty but ended up contemplating him in truth. What did the centurion see? We can assume that he saw the horror of suffering that preceded Jesus’ death. He was an eye witness to the torment, humiliation, and loneliness inflicted on Jesus when his friends betrayed and left him.

He must have been shocked to see Judas plant a seemingly caressing kiss that was in fact an act of treachery. He probably wondered about how swiftly a band of friends could abandon their teacher to preserve their lives.

He heard lies fabricated in the Sanhedrin and Pilate’s surrender to the crowd, despite the lack of a case against Jesus. He beheld people ridiculing Jesus, spitting on him, stripping him, and crucifying him. He heard the painful cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk 15:34).

The centurion saw incredible cruelty from friends, leaders, and even from a distant God. But I believe that in Jesus, the centurion also saw incredible love, love for the God who had failed to remove this cup of suffering from him, and love for neighbors.

For his enemies he begged the Father’s forgiveness (Lk 23:34). To a bandit he promised paradise (Lk 23:43). For his mother, he secured a new family (Jn 19:26-27). And to God, who had abandoned him, he abandoned himself, "Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit." (Lk 23:46).

The centurion saw love blooming in the aridity of inhumanity. Amidst the noise of ridicule and lies, this man Jesus uttered words of fidelity and truth. Everywhere people were shouting "no" to Jesus, but the centurion heard from Jesus only "yes" to the Father, "yes" to neighbors, "yes" to mission.

In this horrible cross of hatred and violence, the centurion found love, unwavering love, a love that refused to die, a love that was strong as steel against evil, yet tender before the beloved.

Jesus remained faithful to his mission. The cross, where the guilt of criminals was sealed, confirmed the innocence of Jesus, the true worshipper of God.

And Jesus, who survived such horror with hope and conquered such evil with tenderness and love, was not only innocent. He also showed that he came from above. Thus his death was transformed into life…. The centurion believed that Jesus could have come only from God, his Father.

Betrayal, inhumanity, and viciousness continue up to our time in the many crucifixions of the poor and of creation. We cannot help but wonder why friends, leaders, and God are unresponsive.

I visited a poor section of a parish that had opened a feeding program for malnourished children. The parents were required to supervise the meal of their children. As I went around the crowded noisy hall, a teenage girl who was gently feeding a young boy caught my attention. She must be his sister, I thought to myself.

I approached them and asked where their mother was. She was looking for a job that day, I was told. So she had sent her teenage daughter to feed the boy.

Thinking she must be as hungry as her brother, I asked, "Have you eaten?" "No," she said, "I am not part of the program. I am already thirteen."

I was surprised at her honesty. For hungry children, this was an opportunity to cheat in order to fill one’s stomach. But she remained honest.

I responded, "I will instruct a volunteer to give you lunch if some food is left after all the children have eaten."

Thankful but embarrassed, she said, "No, bishop. There are many other hungry children in this village. Give the extra food to them."

I was drawn into deep silence. "My God, my God, why are these children going hungry?" I prayed. Yet I also exclaimed, "I did not expect to see sharing and integrity in this place of death."

Truly these are innocent children of God. There is hope for the world."

In Eucharistic adoration, let us join the centurion in watching over Jesus and see what he has seen. Let us, like him, cringe in horror at the sight of destructive evil. And let us marvel at the reality of spotless love, of pure sacrifice and worship.

I wish that Eucharistic adoration would lead us to know Jesus more as the compassionate companion of the many crucified peoples of today.

When we adore the Triune God in praise of the sacrifice of Jesus, we are called to cry for the victims of the indifference of sinful humanity and the helplessness of God. Let us cry, too, in gratitude for the hopeful unfolding of pure love in a broken world.

Let us spend time, also, with the multitudes of innocent victims of our time. In them, we might be able to touch Jesus who knows their tears and pain for he has made them his own and has changed them into hope and love.

Watching over our suffering neighbors, we could, like the centurion, be changed into discerners of truth and heralds of faith.

And hopefully when people behold how we bear others’ crosses in love, they too would see the face of innocence and the Son of God in us.

Let us adore him for ourselves, for the poor, for the earth, for the Church, and for the life of the world.

—Used with permission from the Eucharistic Congress web site.