Paolo Veronese (1528–88) probably painted Christ and the Centurion for a private domestic setting—perhaps the home of the Contarini family. Veronese shows Matthew’s version of the story (8:5–13), in which Christ meets with the centurion rather than with his envoys, as in Luke 7 (vv.3, 6).

The work proved a popular subject, with Veronese’s workshop producing another five versions. Perhaps it was so liked because Christ’s compassion for the imploring centurion is so well portrayed in the face of Christ as he turns to the entreating man, who is asking for God’s mercy, as so many others also did when their loved ones were stricken.

There is a dynamic sense of arrested movement in the picture. The centurion is dropping to his knees—his sword unbuckled and placed beneath him—as Christ, walking by, stops and turns to hear his plea.

The painting is divided into two groups. On the left, Jesus and his disciples, and on the right, the centurion with his entourage, which is itself divided between assistants and audience; between the soldiers to whom the centurion need only say ‘go’ and they go, ‘come’ and they come (Matthew 8:9), and others looking on from between the pillars.

The space between Jesus and the centurion figures the divide between their respective worlds: the evangelical and the military, heavenly and earthly. The young pageboy just behind the centurion, holding his helmet, is perhaps a reminder of the servant we don’t see, for whose cure Christ is entreated. The boy’s white cloak visually balances Christ’s tunic.

In Matthew, Jesus not only wonders at the centurion’s faith (this also occurs in Luke), but he further declares that the faith of this Gentile surpasses that of anyone in Israel, and that ‘many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven’ (8:10–11). The text addresses the Gentile readers of the Gospel, who in Veronese’s painting are represented by the figures on its outer edges, by the Moor on the left, and by the soldiers on the right, wearing anything but Roman armour—knights of the sixteenth century.

As so often, the contemporary viewer is included within the biblical scene. If we too have faith in Christ, Christ will turn and hear our pleas.