This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on June 23, 2019. It’s based on Luke 8:26-39. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson.
Luke 8:26-39
26Then [Jesus and his disciples] arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 27As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. 28When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”—29for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) 30Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. 31They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss.
32Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. 33Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
34When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. 35Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. 36Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. 37Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. 38The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, 39“Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.
Today’s gospel reading is like an epic cliffhanger left unresolved not just for the space between seasons when we have to be content with re-runs of old episodes, but left unresolved forever. Luke never takes us back to the country of the Gerasenes; he never returns to pick up the story where it left off; he never answers this question: were the people there freed from fear?
The man seized by demons experiences healing and release in the presence of Jesus. He’s no longer bound by the chains and shackles of a community that doesn’t know what to do with him, a community that sees him as threat to their way of life.
He’s no longer bound by the demons that isolate him and drive him deeper and deeper into the wilds, a Legion of demons that strip him of his humanity and force him to make his home in the tombs, where death is far more comfortable than life.
The man seized by demons is freed to live, to sit at the feet of Jesus, to proclaim what God has done for him.
But his neighbors, his former friends, his estranged family, the ones who know him only as a danger, something to be feared, not even human…what of them? Now they’re the ones seized by an unclean spirit and that unclean spirit is fear. The Greek word Luke uses here for seized can also mean held together. How often does fear hold us together with like-minded ones who share our fear of a common enemy? Is fear the great uniter? ALL the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear.
Of what are the people afraid? How does one man’s healing incite fear in all the rest? Are there times when the work of Jesus actually creates fear rather than extinguishing it?
Maybe, as fearful as the man was to them, the people have grown comfortable with his condition. They no longer need to think about him. They know who he is; they know what to expect of him; they’ve diagnosed him, defined him, put him in a narrow box of their own making. They don’t have to deal with him anymore.
And as long as he has the problem—as long as he is the problem—they’re off the hook. Maybe he has been the perfect scapegoat for their questionable behavior. Maybe they’ve been quick to blame all that’s wrong in their world on him.
And now he’s clothed and in his right mind. Whom can they blame now? Might they have to actually look at themselves? Might Jesus dare suggest that they are in need of healing? That’s frightening.
Or maybe they’re fearful of taking on the empire. The name Legion calls to mind the Roman army. Casting the demons to their deaths, is Jesus threatening to bring down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly?
Legion has already named Jesus as Son of the Most High God. The demons recognize Jesus for who he is. The empire recognizes the threat Jesus is to their systems of oppression. Can we have such a troublemaker in our midst? By association, might we be deemed troublesome, unpatriotic, unwilling to maintain the status quo that insists on de-humanizing a great many for the sake of elevating a few?
Of what are the people afraid when it comes to Jesus in their midst? Of what are we afraid? Do we, too, ask Jesus to leave?
Of course not, we might respond. We love Jesus. We want him here in our midst. We want him leading and guiding our lives; we want to be his body in the world; we want to know him and to be known by him; we want to be freed from the fear that seizes us.
And yet…we continue to support the harnessing of fear as a means of holding divided people together.
We continue to dehumanize others, preferring to keep them in a tidy box where they can be dealt with swiftly, at no expense to us, with no expectation that we be transformed by truly listening to another’s story.
We continue to live chained by the legion of not enough names we give ourselves instead of claiming with confidence the name given to us by Jesus himself—beloved child of God.
Of what are we afraid?
That’s we’ll somehow lose our status and standing if we make room for others at the table?
That we’ll be forced to change, called upon to make sacrifices we don’t want to make, for the sake of others?
That we’ll dare to try and then fail yet again?
Jesus honors the request of the people to leave them, but he does not leave them alone with their fear. When the man who has been healed begs to go with Jesus, Jesus instead sends him home. Declare how much God has done for you, he tells the man. And so he goes, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus has done for him. The one who knew death becomes the first to proclaim resurrection life.
Will Jesus work through this man’s testimony to free the people from their fear? Will Jesus work through our testimony to free others? Will Jesus work through unexpected people in our lives to free us?
There are days when this feels like the cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers. There is so much fear seizing us, so much fear preventing us from loving one another as God intends, so much fear uniting us around all the wrong things. How will the story end? Will our world ever be fully free?
And then there are the days that surprise us with joy, the days when God is so clearly visible and moving in our lives and in the life of the world, the days when we realize God refuses (and we refuse!) to be content with re-runs of old episodes.
And so we wait and we watch and we work—expectantly—trusting that each scene leads us closer to an end that is already here in some mysterious way, an end written on the cross and in the empty tomb, an end in which all are free and all are one in Christ Jesus.
Amen.