Luke
8:22-39.
I.
Jesus
decides it is time to bring his ministry beyond his own Jewish people. He wants to sail across the lake to
Gentile territory, and start preaching and healing there too. So they all get into a boat and
start on their way. Exhausted,
Jesus finds a comfortable spot and takes a nap.
A
storm brews up. The wind
increases, the waves swell. It
gets so bad that even the accomplished sailors in the group – Peter, James,
John, and Andrew – have so much trouble that the boat is in danger of sinking. They’re probably embarrassed to ask
Jesus for help, they are professionals and experts, while Jesus knows about as
much about boats as he knows about motorcycles. In any case, Jesus sleeps through the whole thing. They have to wake him up, with the deck
of the boat being thrown around like a Tilt-a-Whirl.
Jesus
wakes up, looks around at the chaos and terror, and simply calls out to the
storm, “Chill!” or something to that effect in Aramaic. He rebukes the storm, as if it were
demonically inspired. He casts the
storm demon out of the elements, and the sea and the atmosphere return to
normal.
Then
he turns and rebukes the disciples.
“Where is your faith?” he asks.
“What, you can’t handle a second-rate weather-demon? Do you really think this whole thing is
going to end in a shipwreck? You
have to show a little more trust in what we are doing here. Jeesh.”
The
effect of this on the disciples is that they are more afraid now than they were during the
storm. “Who then is this, that he
commands even the winds and the water and they obey him?” Jesus goes back to his nap, while the
disciples cower at the other end of the boat wondering what just happened.
There
is a wonderful little story about the Russian Orthodox monk, Seraphim
Rose. Father Seraphim and a
companion established a monastery in the mountains of northern California in
the 1970’s. It was challenging
work, beset with all kinds of difficulties. But every time they met with some obstacle, like a flat tire
on the truck, or even opposition from someone in the ecclesiastical
bureaucracy, they figured they must be doing something right if the demons
thought them worthy to have these annoying inconveniences thrown at them. So instead of getting angry or
despondent when things didn’t go well, they took heart. They interpreted it as an indication
that they were on the right track.
They rejoiced even, and
enthusiastically changed the tire and got back to their mission.
That’s
what faith looks like. When the
going gets tough it is a sign that
you’re making progress. The Evil One does not pay attention to
ineffective ministries. Those he
leaves alone to thrive unmolested.
It is the ministries with great potential
that he starts dropping obstacles in front of.
II.
Jesus
is saying that, when the storm blew up on the lake that day, what the disciples
should have said was, “Cool! We must be doing something right or the
devil wouldn’t be throwing a storm at us!
God must really be with us! We can’t possibly fail now! We’re on a mission to bring Jesus across
this lake. Who can stop us? Certainly not this pathetic excuse for
a storm!”
The
church is in a terrible storm right now. The swells are high; the wind is at gale force. Our particular denomination lost
100,000 members last year, which I think is a new record. Once large churches are now medium
sized. Once healthy churches are
now struggling. Once small
churches are now closed. Full-time
ministries are suddenly part-time.
Presbyteries can’t afford the staffs they used to. The fastest growing religious
demographic in America is “none.”
We
turned the boat over to the experienced professionals, with advanced degrees,
and long resumes, and still we founder.
We dissolve into blaming each other. We moan in debilitating nostalgia about when the sailing was
easy and the boat was full.
Maybe
the sailing was easy and the boat was
full back then; but maybe as well it
wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe because it wasn’t going anywhere, the Evil One left
us alone, fat and happy with our
bulging numbers, our political clout, our economic stability. Maybe a boat that stays in a risk-free
existence in the harbor would do really well... but that is not what Jesus
calls us to do.
Jesus
could have stayed in Capernaum and let people come to him. If he had we never would have heard
about him, because it is the people in the countless towns in Galilee, Samaria,
Judea, Syria, and the Decapolis, whose lives are dramatically affected by his
ministry, whose memories and experiences of him form the groundwork for the
spread of the Way after his resurrection.
It
is because they do go, they set sail
on the lake, that they become a target. God wants a church on the move. Jesus does not appear to have stayed very long in any one
place. But being on the move is
risky. It gets the attention of
the Enemy.
I
suspect that the Enemy wants God’s people anchored to real estate, crippled by
debt, spending money on fuel bills rather than on mission. How many Presbyterian churches are
really just mausoleum maintenance societies? (I read the Minutes of church sessions; I know whereof I
speak.)
Nothing
is less useful to God, or more congenial to the Adversary, than a church
content to go nowhere, take no risks, and stay safe and satisfied with its
worldly “success.”
III.
Eventually
the boat carrying Jesus and the disciples makes it to the other side of the
lake, to the country of the Gerasenes.
They pull the boat onto the beach, and they are immediately met by a
naked madman who had escaped from being chained up in the asylum in the
city. Now he lives there among the
tombs, for they have apparently landed at a lakeside cemetery.
The
party is clambering out of the boat, when this crazy guy runs up to them. Jesus orders the demon to come out of
the man, who then throws himself on the ground and starts screaming at the top
of his lungs: “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High
God? I beg you, do not torment me.”
I
can just see the disciples exchanging knowing glances with each other:
“Gentiles. I knew we shouldn’t
have come over here.”
Jesus
is trying to have a conversation with the naked man writhing in the sand. “What is your name?” he asks.
“Legion,”
says the man, or rather the army of demons possessing him. The demons refer to themselves as
“legion.” It is the name of the
main unit of Roman infantry, made up of 6,000 drafted soldiers.
If
he wanted to make the point that he was possessed by many demons, he could have
said his name was “mob,” or “throng,” or “multitude,” or any number of words
signifying a lot of people. But he
doesn’t. He very pointedly says
“Legion.” He doesn’t even use
something generic like, “army.” He
says, Legion. He might as well
have said which Legion and give the
General’s name.
Everyone
would have gotten it. Here is an
individual possessed by a legion of demons; everyone watching him lives in a
country possessed by imperial legions. The parallel would not have been lost
on anyone. “This man,” they would
have thought, “is just like us; his individual situation is our situation as a country: possessed
and tormented by a legion.” When
he says his name is “Legion,” the general response would have been,
“Seriously. I hear ya, dude. We’ve all been there.”
Jesus
knows this is now a special case, there is symbolism involved. It suddenly get political. The demons beg Jesus not to cast them
into the abyss. He doesn’t usually
negotiate with demons; but looking around, Jesus sees, next to the cemetery, a
pasture. Some herders are
overseeing a herd of pigs, but right now they are distracted, entertaining
themselves by watching at a distance to see how these strangers handle the
lunatic. Jesus sees an opportunity
to make a point. He permits the
demons to enter into the herd of pigs, which they do. The pigs then go crazy, and stampede en masse down the embankment and into the lake, where they all
drown.
IV.
Then
the man wakes up. He is free! He is in his right mind! They get him cleaned up and into some decent
clothes. He sits down with Jesus
and they have an actual conversation.
The
horrified pig herders, though, run into the nearby town to explain the loss of
the pigs and that it wasn’t their fault.
The leaders of the town show up.
And here’s the kicker. They
see the man, now liberated and healed.
But they don’t care about him. They do not welcome him, receive him,
praise God for his healing, none of that.
What they do care about is the
economic loss of a herd of pigs.
They
were afraid of what it was going to cost them to be free. If it took a whole herd of pigs to free
one man from his legion of demons,
how much would be demanded of all of Gerasa to be free of their legions? Jesus is upsetting the system. He is threatening the economy. So where the man is free, the nation is
content to stay possessed. Freedom
is too expensive.
So
they basically, no doubt politely, request that Jesus go back to where he came
from. He is upsetting the social
order, and he is undermining the economic system. He has to go.
So
Jesus shrugs. Any people who are
more concerned about a herd of pigs than a human being is hopeless. Any people who would rather stay
possessed than be free, is not going to receive Jesus. So he and his entourage start climbing
back into the boat. The liberated
man wants to come too. But Jesus
sends him back to the town as a witness to what God has done for him. He goes and tells everyone about Jesus.
By
standard measurements, this foray into Gentile territory is a failure. The whole group has risked life and limb, gone to the
trouble and great expense of a voyage across the lake. Not to mention that they can expect to
hear from the pig-owner’s lawyer at any time. And all they have to show for it is one convert, and an
invitation never to return. The
mood on the trip back is probably not very good.
What
will happen when the Personnel Committee or the Board of Trustees gets wind of
this debacle? Well, Jesus’ “Board
of Trustees” is that group of wealthy women Luke tells us about earlier in the
chapter. And the thing about this
group is that every one of them can relate personally to that demoniac on the
beach whom Jesus saves. And
everyone in Jesus’ entourage would acutely understand the significance of
casting out a demon named “Legion.”
Because that is what they all hoped and prayed would happen to their own
country.
V.
There
is no guarantee that if we follow Jesus we will achieve “success” according to our
goals and objectives. Jesus
appears to think that liberating one broken, tormented soul is success enough
to justify this whole sailing-across-the-lake project.
And
maybe, a few years later, when perhaps some of the people in that very boat that
day come back to Gerasa with the message of Jesus’ resurrection, they will find
that folks over there already know about Jesus, because there was this one guy
who couldn’t shut up about how some Jew named Jesus had sailed over from the
other side of the lake and liberated him from having been possessed by a legion
of demons.
God
can take even our failures and turn
them into triumphs because of the seeds we faithfully planted. God can make our failures even more fruitful than some of the things we
think are great accomplishments.
Maybe the future is not with the big, rich, successful institutions;
maybe the future is really being born today in the marginal churches, the churches in crisis, the churches experiencing profound losses, the churches that have to take risks, try new things, and endure repeated failure.
These
are trying times for a lot of churches, this one included. We’re all going though the same
storm. So we can relate to the
situation of the disciples in that boat.
They feared for their lives, they had a reasonable chance of drowning. But the main thing that’s troubling us is a human-made illusion called money.
In
fact, I wonder if the preoccupation with money and finance in our culture isn’t
the invasive, extractive “legion” that has a grip on us, leaving us vulnerable and anxious, fearful and out of control,
making us dwell alone in the land of the dead. It is what got us into this long Recession. Paul says that the love of money is the
root of all kinds of evil. When we
value our pigs more than our freedom, we are in deep trouble. When Capital has more rights than
people, something is very wrong. Jesus
does not stay in that kind of environment. It is very toxic soil for the Word.
We
are with Jesus Christ when we are ready to obey his Word and go where he sends
us, when we realize that our challenges and even our failures are validating
our mission and making us stronger, when we do not let the stress corrode our
love for each other, when we view success in terms of faithfulness alone, and when we are not afraid but thrilled
by this adventure of bringing people home to God’s Kingdom, realized here and
now, among us, in this community of disciples.
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