Casting Out Evil Spirits, Then and Now

The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

June 23, 2019

Year C, Proper 7: The Second Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 19:1-15a

Psalm 42

Galatians 3:23-29

Luke 8:26-39

Casting Out Evil Spirits, Then and Now

            Today’s gospel lesson, the story of Jesus casting out demons from a man in the land of the Gerasenes, has been troubling me all week.

            And, if you live here in our neighborhood and regularly walk Bergen Avenue, as I do, maybe this vivid and powerful story will trouble you, too.

            It’s a story that is found, with some differences, in Mark, Matthew, and here in Luke.

            In Luke, it is the one and only time that Jesus leaves Jewish territory and enters a non-Jewish, Gentile land. Just in case we weren’t sure about that, we’re told that there are swineherds tending their pigs, so we know that we’re not in Israel any more!

            The gospels don’t agree on the name of this place and scholars are not sure exactly where it was, aside from the vague description that it was “opposite Galilee.”

            And maybe that vagueness is part of the point.

            The country of the Gerasenes could be just about anywhere.

            We’re told that Jesus and his disciples arrive in this unfamiliar territory, where they are immediately met by a terrifying “welcoming committee” of one: the pathetic figure of a man possessed by demons.

            We’re not told how the disciples reacted to this scene, but knowing them I’m guessing that it was something like: “Uh, Jesus, what do you say we get back on the boat and go back home?”

Luke paints quite a terrifying picture of this poor man – living in the tombs, naked, probably carrying on all the time and scaring the wits out of everyone else in town.

We’re told that he is possessed by a “legion” of demons. In the Roman army, a legion was made up of anywhere from four to six thousand soldiers, so this man is possessed by many, many demons.

            Luke doesn’t say it, but this man is often described as an outcast, but that’s not quite true. In fact, we’re told that his neighbors had at least tried to do something - to protect themselves and to protect him from himself - keeping him under guard and in shackles, but it was no use – the demons were just too powerful for human efforts.

            And near the end of the story, we’re given the little detail that this wreck of a man had a home and it makes me wonder if he also had a family – people who loved him and missed the person he used to be - people who must have been horrified and heartbroken and even ashamed to see what had become of him.

Anyway, as usual, while Jesus’ closest friends are generally unable to figure out who Jesus is, the demons always recognize Jesus right away. They know exactly who Jesus is - and they respect his power.

            The poor possessed man shouts at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?”

            Interestingly, even the demons do not want to be sent into “the abyss,” so Jesus gives them permission to enter the herd of pigs, the pigs who then promptly throw themselves into the sea.

            But, the conclusion of the story is not as neat and clean as we might expect.

            The poor man now freed of his demons becomes a disciple and shares the good news of what Jesus has done for him.

            But, his neighbors in the land of the Gerasenes are not so enthusiastic about the miraculous work of Jesus of Nazareth.

            The swineherds must be understandably unhappy about suddenly losing their livelihood, but the other people in town are afraid and ask Jesus to leave them.

            Perhaps seeing the power of God at work right in front of them in their own town made them uncomfortable, raising difficult questions about how the world really works – raising difficult challenges about how they should live their lives.

            At the start of my sermon I mentioned how this gospel story as been troubling me all week.

            It’s been troubling me because the poor man possessed by the legion of demons reminds me of someone – someone I’ve seen many times and someone who, if you’ve spent any time on Bergen Avenue over the last couple of years, you’ve seen, too.

            He’s a man possessed by his own demons, the demons of mental illness and addiction. For a while now, he’s been on Bergen Avenue and around McGinley Square, wearing rags, compulsively drinking and smoking, bobbing and weaving in perpetual motion, ranting in a language that I think is probably English but the snippets I’ve heard are incomprehensible to me.

            Everyone, even the other alcoholics and drug addicts, give him a wide berth. I’ve never seen him interact with another human being.

            I’ve seen him early in the morning and late at night – and it’s always the same except when he’s overcome with exhaustion or intoxication (or, probably both) and passes out flat on his back, sometimes right in the middle of the sidewalk - his demons seemingly silent, at least for a time.

            I’ve seen him for years but just this past week I realized that I haven’t seen him lately and I’m afraid that his story didn’t end as happily as the story of a similar man possessed by demons long ago, a man healed by Jesus.

            Because the truth is, unlike the people in the land of the Gerasenes, I certainly didn’t make any attempt to try to help him, no attempt to protect him from himself, or to even offer him the small kindness of a dollar or a bite to eat.

            Instead, I tried to steer out of his way.

            Just like pretty much everybody else.

            But, there’s something else.

            Despite the strength of their chains, the Gerasenes were not able to help their poor neighbor on their own. Only God, working in and through Jesus, could unbind the man – only God, working in and through Jesus, could cast out the demons, freeing the man from the spiritual chains that bound him.

            And, so when I think about my neighbor – our neighbor – out there on Bergen Avenue, not only did I shy away from him, not only did I decline to offer him kindness or help, but I’m also pretty sure I never even prayed for him.

            It didn’t occur to me that God might just be powerful enough to free the poor wreck of a man so many of us passed by on the street.

            At least the Gerasenes had a good excuse – they didn’t know God, at least not yet.

            But, I spend my life in or next door to church so I have no good excuse.

            And, neither do you!

            Maybe praying for the man on Bergen Avenue didn’t occur to me because, just like for the Gerasenes, it raises some difficult questions about how the world really works – difficult challenges about how we should live our lives: questions and challenges so difficult that, like the Gerasenes, we may get so disturbed and frightened that we simply want Jesus to go away.

            In today’s second lesson from the Letter to the Galatians, St. Paul makes one of his key points: that there should be no divisions among us – that in Christ “there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female.”

We are all one in Christ Jesus.

            And we are the Body of Christ in the world.

            And that truth comes with many blessings, blessings we experience each time we gather together here.

But, if we really are the Body of Christ in the world, then we have more power and responsibility than we might like to think.

            So, as much as we might prefer to look away from and give up on the human wrecks like the man who cried out to Jesus long ago and the man ranting and raving on Bergen Avenue in our own time, we are called to offer healing – maybe through a small kindness but especially by remembering them in our prayers, trusting in the power of God who can cast out every evil spirit, then and now.

            Amen.