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Monday, January 31, 2011

Homily for Mark 5:1-20: The Gerasene Demoniac

The story of the Gerasene demoniac is certainly colorful and legendary. It is the first time in Mark's short Gospel that he took some time to tell a story. The story shifts from its focus on a possessed man, to the sacrificial herd of swine, to the people of the area, and back to the liberated man. Raw human emotions are swirling throughout each verse as sheer terror grips the onlooker. It comes after a series of parables describing the kingdom of God and it is the middle of three miracle stories in which Jesus shows his power over Satan - this time in a case of demonic possession. The tale is set within the tombs as the people connected 'death' with 'demonic possession.' Death touches each human heart uniquely.

We are to examine our responses to death. Perhaps we recall the experience of a deceased loved one or we have dealt with aging or illness that puts us one day closer to our own death. The thought of death unsettles us and we want to find meaning in it, and sometimes it is difficult to do, especially when it involves an innocent person. It is a mystery to behold and too often, we don't want to do it. We find clever ways to resist and even deny death. We anaesthetize ourselves to its presence and we don't want it to cheat us or take us too soon. Death shows we are powerless.

I call to mind a current film, The Rabbit Hole, that will not will any Academy Awards, but I honor it for its realistic portrayal of a couple's coping with the death of their four-year old son to a tragic accident. Their happy suburban world is turned upside down. Becca, the wife, and Howie, her husband are caught in a maze of memory, longing, guilt, recrimination, sarcasm and tightly controlled rage from which they cannot escape. Their ways of coping are diametrically opposed to one another. Becca finds pain in the familiar, Howie finds comfort in the familiar. Becca mocks the "grieving parents" support group while Howie finds solace, but both come in contact with a whole network of friends who are beset by loss. No one grieves the same way. No plan or timeframe exists for healing; memories will never fade; the search for meaning remains elusive. Death is final.

Shifts comes in abrupt, unforeseen moments. Becca hesitantly opens up to her opinionated, loving mother who is still dealing with her son's death to a drug overdose, and Becca secretly reaches out to the teenager involved in the accident that claimed her son's life. Howie lashes out and daydreams about the solace he will find with another woman, a kindred spirit who lost her daughter 8 years ago. Everyone's life is shattered. Yet, as divergent their paths are, the couple keeps trying to find their way back to a life that still holds the potential for beauty, meaning, laughter and happiness. They needed to take their own pathways, because not one way is clearly demarked. The same goes for us.

Becca and Howie must have felt like the Gerasene demoniac. No one could help them as no one could help the possessed man. These demons and our disordered attachments possess us. They define us and we cannot imagine life without them. They are our identity. Once these demons within us have life, they multiply and rule over us. Many times, we did not invite them in but they are part of the cycle of shame we inherited from our parents, our upbringing, and the events that happened to us. These are things beyond our control, and they may result from boundaries that were transgressed against us. It is unfortunate. I'm deeply sorry for what has happened to you.

Look at the chaos it creates within us: debilitating, paralyzing shame, sadness and loneliness, stifled anger, repressed memories, a life that is damaged. We are cut off from our true selves. We have fallen far from our dreams of the way our life ought to be. We don't want these demons to have power over us anymore. They kill our spirit and we desire to be liberated and happy. We want our life to have meaning. There is no sense of hiding these demons. We all have them and they will do their best to hook us. We present our best face instead of our reality for some reason. We are broken and we come to realize we need a savior, and only this savior's deeper affection, only his love can subdue our demons. After a struggle to keep control, we realize we have no control and we admit our powerlessness. We are not God. The possessed man did not save himself. We can't save ourselves.

The good news is these demons do not stand a chance in front of Jesus. When the possessed man catches sight of Jesus, he runs towards him crying at the top of his lungs. I know I have spent many prayer periods crying out to Jesus. What does he do? Jesus enters into my chaos. He doesn't move me. He stays with me in the stillness. He stands there among the tombs with me with all the shackles and chains binding me up, and looks at me with love.

He desires my liberation, and he asks me to name my demons, to which I reply, "there are so many of them. They are Legion. I want to be free of them." He wants me to cry out to him, but to notice that he is looking upon me with love. I, too, have to clearly name these demons and acknowledge their power over me, the power I gave them whether consciously or unconsciously, and I have to let Christ free me - even if the man is hanging on the cross near death, or already dead and buried in the tomb. The demons recognize Jesus as the Son of the Most High, God. Why can't I?

I have to let him free me. I have to let him take all my chains and shackles, anything that weighs me down, and give it to him on the cross or lay it inside his tomb. I have to do it even though it is going to weigh him down and cause him even more pain or break his back or even takes the dying breath from the man. We may further hurt from our doing this, but it is the reason he came to us. And if I cannot give it to him, he will understand. My prayer for you is that you will at least consent to let him take it from you so he can achieve the purpose for which he came. Give his death the meaning he desires.

Like Becca and Howie, you have to find your own way of doing that. It will be a way that you uniquely can do it, and it may take you great courage and energy. This man who hangs on the cross or lays in the tomb is the same man you held in your arms when he was an infant, the same boy who was swept away into Egypt, the teen you met in his hidden years, the man who cured and taught and revealed something precious about God to you. This is the guy who became your good friend. He remains steadfast to you, even though you deserted him or denied him or fell asleep on him in his time of need. He is still in front of you reaching out and saying, "I want to share my heart with you. Will you open yours to receive mine. It breaks my heart that these demons separate us." Christ took on our powerlessness because of our powerlessness.

Find Christ in this intimate moment of death. He wants to liberate you so your heart can be brought into his own and to his Father's.

Others may be seized with fear and astonishment when they see us like the man who was once possessed. When we allow Christ to liberate us, we too will go off and proclaim to others what Jesus has done for us. Our hearts will be amazed. Our hearts will remember the tender moment of salvation when Christ called our true selves forth and showed us the true power of God.

"What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High?" asks the possessed man. "Everything," he replies. "I want your liberty, your memory, your will, your understanding, all that you have and possess. You are mine."

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