Exorcists

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

June 22, 2025

Year C, Proper 7: The Second Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 19:1-15a

Psalm 42 and 43

Galatians 3:23-29

Luke 8:26-39

Exorcists

You may remember that we had a service here on Election Day evening.

Scheduling our service near the time when the polls in Maryland were closing was a deliberate choice – a signal that we weren’t gathered here to pray for a particular outcome, though no doubt plenty of us were doing just that.

No, we were here to place our trust in the God who will not let go of us no matter what – the God who will not let go of us no matter who is President. 

And to make that point, that night I didn’t preach about the election.

I preached about baptism.

And during these tumultuous months, when some of us have believed we’re heading in the right direction while others of us have been shocked and dismayed by so much, I’ve gone right on talking about baptism.

I’ve talked about baptisms because, thank God, we’ve had a lot of baptisms.

And because baptism is where our Christian life begins.

And no matter what’s happening in the world and in our lives, when we remember our baptism, we remember who we are meant to be, who we really are.

We remember whose we are.

And so, this morning, with the dread of yet another war sickening our stomachs, I’d like to begin by talking about baptism – one particular baptism, actually.

Every baptism is a powerful and deeply meaningful experience, but I have to say, that Brendan’s baptism last Sunday was especially powerful and meaningful.

Part of that extra power and meaning came from a beautiful synchronicity that I mentioned last week: Brendan’s mom Leslie was baptized by Dave Hamilton who was also the priest who welcomed Sue and me into the Episcopal Church. As many of you know by now, Dave was a very close friend and mentor who inspired, supported, and nurtured my call to ordained ministry.

I’ll just never get over what feels to me like much more than a coincidence.

But it wasn’t just that spiritual connection that gave Brendan’s baptism extra power and meaning.

It was also the fact that, unlike the babies who are carried to the font, the babies who have no say in the matter, Brendan chose to be baptized.

Baptism was something he wanted for himself.

Brendan is old enough to seek baptism and he’s old enough to make the big baptismal promises, promises that he will strive to keep with God’s help, and with the support of his parents.

Brendan made the promises of the Baptismal Covenant:

The promise to continue to be part of the church.

The promise to resist evil and ask forgiveness when we mess up.

The promise to proclaim the Good News by word and example.

The promise to seek Christ in everyone, to love our neighbor as our self.

The promise to strive for justice and peace, to respect the dignity of everybody.

These promises – trying to keep these promises, with God’s help – should guide Brendan and all of us, especially during these tumultuous times when love, justice, peace, and respect sure seem to be losing ground.

But there’s another part of the baptism service that I rarely mention.

Near the start of last Sunday’s service, I asked Brendan some pretty heavy questions:

“Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?”

“Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?”

“Do you renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God?”

Pretty heavy questions for a young boy, but each time he answered with a strong voice:

“I renounce them.”

“I renounce them.”

“I renounce them.”

With each renunciation, Brendan cast away evil.

With each “no,” Brendan rejected the forces of evil and chose instead the way of love.

A powerful moment.

And not so different, really, from… an exorcism.

In his earthly ministry, Jesus was a teacher and a healer, and he was also an exorcist, casting out the evil spirits that held people hostage, restoring them to health and wholeness.

In today’s lesson from the Gospel of Luke, we hear the particularly graphic story of Jesus casting out a legion of demons from this poor tormented man, sending the demons into a herd of swine who then plunge off the cliff to a watery demise.

(Yes, it’s OK to feel bad for the pigs.)

It’s always interesting to me that, unlike his own usually befuddled disciples, the demons always know who Jesus is. 

And sure enough, in this story the demon calls Jesus, “Son of the Most High God.”

And now, after he’s been liberated, the man seems to know who Jesus is, too. 

Jesus sends him back home to tell everyone what God has done for him. And he follows instructions, but adds his own twist, telling people what Jesus had done for him. 

        So, exorcisms.

I don’t often mention Jesus’ exorcisms because, well, for us “modern and enlightened” Christians, the whole idea of an exorcism is kind of embarrassing, it makes us uncomfortable, right?

I mean, we know a whole lot more about sickness than people did two thousand years ago. We know that illness is caused by a range of factors, not necessarily demons.

Plus, exorcisms have been so sensationalized by Hollywood that we can hardly talk about them without images from countless horror movies running through our head.

But exorcisms were an important part of Jesus’ ministry and the ministry of the first disciples, who were empowered by Jesus to cast out demons.

And the church has kept the renunciations of evil in the baptism service because, whatever we may think about Satan and demons, evil is powerful and destructive – evil is powerful and destructive – and, with God’s help, we need to resist evil, to cast away evil, and choose instead the way of love.

        Now, I’m not gonna go down to Wegmans and tell people this exactly, but we are exorcists.

        Through us, in our tumultuous times, Jesus can still cast out demons.

        Two examples:

Last Sunday, just before Brendan’s baptism, a few of us gathered at what we’re calling Gilead House 2, the new rehabilitated house that will soon be a home for an Afghan family that has traveled far and suffered much – they’ve experienced the power of evil.

It was impressive to see all the work that has been done on the house – it looks a whole lot different from the last time I was there!

And it was so beautiful to gather with Jews, Muslims, and other Christians as we blessed the house and asked God to watch over those who will soon live there.

And, of course we didn’t say this exactly, but through our actions and words, we were also exorcists - casting out the evil spirits of mistrust, fear, selfishness, and division, and choosing instead the way of love, widening God’s community of love to include this beautiful family that’s been through so much.

And now, here this morning we will have our second annual Service of Remembering, remembering the people buried in the North Cemetery, the African-American burial ground, just outside our churchyard wall.

As most of you know, over the last few years we have sought to rediscover and remember this important chapter of our church’s history, to remember the story of this piece of land, to remember the people buried there, the people whose names we know and the many more whose names are lost to us but never forgotten by God.

From the start, I think we recognized that our North Cemetery project is holy work.

But this year, this year, when the old demons of hatred, racism, and division are on the loose, this year our Service of Remembering feels a bit like an exorcism.

Through us, Jesus is casting out the demons that can degrade and destroy us just as the legion of demons were destroying that tormented man in today’s gospel lesson.

Through our work together, Jesus is casting out the demons of fear, hate, and division.

        Through our work together, Jesus is walking with us, restoring us to health and wholeness.

        And just like the man who was freed of his demons, Jesus calls us to share the Good News, to share the Good News down at Wegmans and everywhere, to tell them, that yes, we live in tumultuous times, but God will not let go of us, no matter what.

        To tell them, look at what God is doing for and among us here at St. Thomas’, to tell them about a boy who stood before us and made some big promises to God, to tell them that this is a place of remembering and welcome for all, to show them a different way, to invite them to a different way.

        In these tumultuous times,

        May Jesus use us to cast out the demons that torment us.

        May God give us the strength to keep building a community of love.

        Amen.