A sermon on Luke 8:26-39
Readings:
1 Kings 19:1–15a
Galatians 3:23–29
Luke 8:26–39
Grace to you, and peace, from God our creator, and our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.
This episode from Jesus’s ministry gives us a whole lot to wonder about, doesn’t it? Let’s imagine ourselves as Jesus’s disciples watching this scene unfold. We’ve just been on the Sea of Galilee in a small boat. We’re tired and seasick. And, we’re amazed: we’ve been through a very dangerous storm that practically drowned us before he stopped it. We’re a little off-balance and wondering: who is this man we’re with, who commands the wind and the waves? When we’re terrified he’s not exactly comforting. He continually challenges us, asking, “what’s the matter with you, where’s your faith?”
The wind has pushed our boat to this unlikely place right on the edge of nowhere: we aren’t in the middle of the city, or in the middle of the settled farmland. We’re right on the edge here -- between city and country, between farmland and desert, between land and sea, between order and chaos, even between life and death—the city’s tombs are right here. Our little boat has beached here – just our luck, we could have landed at the city, or at a farm, even in the desert down the coast. But no, we get to land right here by this huge herd of filthy hogs! (The Gospel of Mark tells us there were 2,000 hogs in this herd.) Who needs so many hogs? We’re traveling with Jesus. We go to the most frightening and unlikely places and do things that test our faith when we’re with him.
Out he gets, right into the edge of nowhere. Let’s follow along so we can hear what he says and see what he does. He’s spotted somebody over there. The guy is screaming like an animal. It looks like he’s dirty and wearing no clothes. Jesus walks right through the hog herd. And wouldn’t you know it, Jesus walks into the graveyard. Who knows what kind of unclean place this strange city’s graveyard is? Of course, he walks right in, and right up to that man.
Now Jesus is talking to the man, gently as usual. It looks like he’s been stuck out here in the edge of nowhere for a long time. He’s yelling “what do you want with me? Don’t torture me!” He looks like he might attack Jesus. Now he’s falling down, twitching. But does Jesus back off? No, he reaches out; he touches the man and says “what’s your name?” The answer is something crazy – “legion?” what kind of name is that? Maybe a legion of demons have taken over his body.
Look what’s happening! At Jesus’s touch, the man has suddenly stopped twitching and yelling. He calmed down, just like the sea. Amazing. But the hogs are acting crazy. The whole herd is stampeding, down the bank, right into the sea!
They’re piling up on top of each other and drowning. This is awful! The hog-farmers aren’t going to be happy …. I hope they don’t blame Jesus, or us! They’re running off to the city – it looks like they’re going to get help. Maybe we should get out of here.
But, now look at what Jesus is doing. He’s given the crazy man some clothes, and they’re sitting there together talking quietly. People from the city have come out here to the edge of nowhere, and they’re all talking. They look really frightened. The mayor is telling Jesus to get back in the boat and leave. That sounds good – come on, Jesus, let’s go, let’s launch the boat before they change their minds!
Uh-oh, wait a minute. It looks like the guy who was crazy is coming with us. Sure, he wants to get out of the graveyard, but we don’t have any room for him in the boat. But it’s OK, Jesus is telling him to go back to his house and tell his family what God has done for him. And he’s doing what Jesus said. There he goes into the city … stopping to tell everybody “Jesus got rid of the demons that were driving me crazy!” And, people are listening to him. They aren’t driving him back out here to the edge of nowhere.
Wow. In this one day Jesus has shown his power by stopping a storm, and by driving away a legion of demons. What a hard day this must have been for his disciples (not to mention the man with the demons). It’s hard enough even for us to hear this story.
Why is it hard for us to hear the story? Is it that we prefer our miracles nice and tidy, like our movies? Do we want to see the caption “No animals were harmed in the making of this miracle?” Is it the story very different from our experience? Lutheran Pastor John Weagraff, the chaplain at Westborough State Hospital, works with very sick psychiatric patients. He says their personhood has been taken from them by their illnesses. They’re like the man in the graveyard. But most of us don’t know anybody whose problems are as dramatic as that. Anyhow, we diagnose and treat people like that with compassion, don’t we? They’re sick, right? Not infested with demons. So maybe this Gospel lesson is hard to hear because its world view is so different from ours.
Maybe. But I think it’s hard to hear for exactly the opposite reason. It’s hard to hear because we do recognize ourselves in it. Each of us has demons: we’re greedy, we want to win, we get angry when we don’t get our own way. We see the crazy man and recognize a bit of ourselves.
But it’s not as simple as that. The story is also hard to hear because we see the people of that city and recognize their demons in ourselves. Like them, we get taken over by our big projects: raising our two thousand hogs. We get taken over by convincing ourselves we’re OK by saying we’re better than other people. We do the same things those Gerasenes did, don’t we? When people are different, we too push them right to the edge of nowhere so we don’t have to face them.
I saw this happen in a computer company I worked in years ago. It was a good place to work; Most of us were friends. We were focused on our work. But there was Larry. He was an irritable man. He didn’t get along with people very well. He didn’t like sitting in a cubicle, so he insisted on putting up a tent over his workspace. The local fire marshal did not like that. He didn’t respect other peoples’ work, so he was always redoing it. I really didn’t like that. I took it personally when he did that to me. And he smoked cigarettes in the office.
But, the folks in charge didn’t just sack him. (The Gerasenes didn’t just murder their crazy man either, even though they certainly could have.) They found an office for him way down at the end of the hall. Why? He helped us define ourselves. We told ourselves, we’re not Larry. We’re normal. And we’re so compassionate, we even keep nut cases like Larry on the payroll. But we won’t let him interfere with our project, our herd of two thousand hogs. Now, Larry was not like the crazy man at all. He was perfectly sane, just hard to work with. But this is about the rest of us. We pushed our demons off onto him.
I wonder whether the Gerasenes were using the crazy man to feel good about themselves. I wonder if they told themselves: He’s addicted, we’re not. He’s sick, we’re normal. We’re pure, he’s possessed. We’re civilized, he isn’t. We’re good, he’s bad.
Aren’t we Gerasenes great? We can justify ourselves by being better than that guy. We can unload our demons onto him, just so long as we don’t have to talk to him. After all, we’re proud Gerasenes, with our herd of two thousand hogs, and he’s got the demons.
And into the Gerasene situation came Jesus. He didn’t come to the center of that society, he came to the edge. He showed those people that the kingdom of God is found on the edge of nowhere. It’s found where he spoke kindly to that man who lived in the graveyard, actually listened to him, and sent his demons away. He regained his personhood. He spoke to the people of his community and told them what happened. The man was healed. And his community was healed too.
This was a huge transformation. It didn’t feel good to those people. It wrecked their economy. It made them very afraid. Jesus set the outcast free from his demons. But just as significantly he changed the rest of the people. His fearless and compassionate action brought the “good” people from the center of the society out to the edge of nowhere, and brought them back into conversation with the outcast. No more could people unload their demons on the outcast! He healed them all.
The kingdom of God breaks into our world too, also in unlikely places. Our neighbors at the Greentree House group foster home on the edge of our parking lot are among the outcasts of our world. They’re poor. They’ve been sent away from their homes. You only need to talk to any one of those girls for a few minutes to realize she’s carrying demons for her whole family.
God’s kingdom breaks in on their world too. Maybe it’s not as dramatic as stopping storms and casting out thousands of demons, but it’s just as significant. Here’s just one way: one of them told me she’s still excited about the work she did last week here with us on the midwife kits. She said she never realized how good she has it. She said it was good, and healing, for her to think about somebody else’s problems and actually do something to help.
She didn’t use quite the same language as the crazy man when he was healed … but I heard her clearly. She was telling what God had done for her!
We all live with demons. Many of us try to justify ourselves by pushing our demons off on people at the edge of nowhere. Others of us get pushed out, and forced to carry demons for our whole communities.
But Jesus shows up! By his power the realm of God breaks in where we least expect it. It breaks in at the homeless shelter, at the feeding program, at the group home. It breaks in at the graveyard at the edge of town. It breaks in to our lives at Jesus’s cross, and at his empty tomb! It certainly causes some fear as it changes us. Change us it does, as it sets us free to live with one another without demons, in peace.
It’s my prayer that in the days to come, we will recognize Jesus showing up and setting us free of our demons. It’s my prayer that we will receive the faith to get through the fear of changing, and live in that freedom with one another. It’s my prayer that we will proclaim to the world what Jesus has done for us.
Amen.