Every week that I can, I make my way to Skagit County Jail to lead Bible studies with the inmates, a ministry that we have led for many years now.

It’s a drab, tan-colored cinderblock space with a wall of bookshelves filled with tattered paperbacks where we gather in a circle with inmates to read and discuss the Bible and to pray— always under surveillance.

We’re looking at Luke’s Gospel, where we see Jesus ministering primarily in public, non-religious places to people mostly labelled as unwor­thy by religious leaders. Reading the Gospels regularly with inmates sheds fresh light on these familiar stories—because inmates often find themselves in awkward, inhospitable, or even adversarial circumstances that parallel those of people Jesus helped.

We read the story of the Roman centurion in Capernaum, whose beloved slave is about to die. I briefly describe to the inmates how Roman soldiers were an occupying force that controlled and dominated ordinary Jewish people in Israel in Jesus’ day, and that they were feared and hated because of their brutality. I ask the men to identify contemporary Roman centurions, and they mention prison wardens, sheriffs, prosecutors, drug task force chiefs, gang leaders, and drug cartel higher-ups.

We read about how the centurion sends some Jewish elders to ask Je­sus to come and save his slave’s life – and how the elders insist on the centurion’s worthi­ness to be helped.

I know from years of experience that people in crisis often try to make themselves as worthy as possible when they really need God’s help. I find myself doing the same. There seems to be a deep-seated assumption in most people’s thinking that God is like a probation officer or judge, looking to see if people are complying with requirements, evaluating evidence proving in­nocence or signs of measuring up to demands. Does Jesus buy into this theology?

An older, grey-bearded inmate missing half his teeth is ecstatic. He has been reading ahead and wants us all to know that he doesn’t think that the Roman cen­turion told the Jewish elders to tell Jesus about how worthy he was. He thinks that was the Jewish elders’ own agenda playing out - that they want the centurion’s ongoing help for their projects, and they want Jesus to help them “pay him back” by healing his slave.

Everyone wants to know what Jesus will do.

The centurion’s friends arrive next, and they tell Jesus what the centurion has actually said: “Lord, do not trouble yourself further, for I am not worthy for you to come under my roof; for this reason I did not even con­sider myself worthy to come to you” (Luke 7:6-7a).

“Does the centurion’s confession of his unworthiness keep Jesus from healing his slave?” I ask the men. “Does Jesus say to the centurion’s friends, ‘Hey, wait a min­ute, I thought this guy deserved a miracle? Tell him to forget it!’?’”

The men laugh, in part, because it’s dawning on them that this is not the case.

I find myself amazed that the centurion doesn’t present his best self to Jesus through his friends, in contrast to the Jewish elders’ advocacy. He doesn’t hide who is, or use it to coerce Jesus into doing anything for him. He simply trusts in Jesus’ mercy and his power.

We are all amazed at his humility. And we notice Jesus’ humility too. He does not publically ‘pronounce’ healing from a distance to impress the crowd. Jesus doesn’t model the authority that the centurion exemplifies. The centu­rion’s friends find the slave well, without Jesus having taken any credit for the miracle. Instead, Jesus gives the “enemy” centurion credit for modelling something he calls faith, which we try to get our minds around in the final minutes of our jail Bible study before the guards come.

“How does this story speak to you guys today?” I ask the men. “What do you hear God saying to you as we’ve been read­ing and discussing?”

“The centurion knows he’s unworthy, but asks Jesus for a miracle anyway,” someone says. “We can do that now here in jail, and this gives me hope that Jesus will answer even when I don’t have my life together and don’t deserve help.”

“Jesus is willing to go where the centurion lives, whether he is worthy or unworthy,” someone else says.

We spend the last few minutes in prayer, thanking Jesus that he’s already on his way towards us, whether others are praying for us, or we are ask­ing for help ourselves. I invite the men to dare to make their requests known to Jesus, regardless of their current situation. On a weekly basis, men share stories of God answering their prayers in ways that bring them into an increasingly expectant faith.