Pentecost 5 C: God in the Shadow Lands
Dear Partner in Preaching,
When I’ve written on this passage in years past, I’ve focused on the power of names. It regularly breaks my heart, for instance, to hear this young man respond to Jesus query, “What is your name?” by answering, “Legion.” He has defined himself, I’ve argued, by his deficits, by his ailment, by his pain, by his struggles and captivity. I’ve contrasted this shrunken, broken reality with the life-restoring gift of a new name and identity in Holy Baptism.
I am still struck by this reality and, indeed, think it still preaches. J But this year I was taken not so much by what Jesus said to this captive young man, but where Jesus went to find him. First, he leaves the comfortable, predominantly Jewish area of Galiee and crosses the sea to the land of the Gerasenes. This is Gentile territory, not a place a Jewish rabbi would normally venture.
Once on land, he is encountered – many would say “accosted” – by a man possessed by an unclean spirit. That’s an interesting designation, reminding us that there are a variety of spirits, some life giving, some not. This one is not. And, in Jewish custom, it is therefore he is not only perilous to himself and others, but religiously unclean.
Moreover, this young man no longer abides among the living in the local town but rather dwells among the dead in the tombs. Tombs, we should note, are another place considered ritually unclean. All of which means that Jesus, the Jewish itinerant rabbi proclaiming the coming kingdom of God, goes to an unclean land to meet a man possessed by an unclean spirit living in an unclean place.
This is, in short, the very last place Jesus should be.
Which, when you think about it, is where God usually shows up. At our moments of profound doubt, grief, loss, and defeat. And – and this is the one that often surprises us – among those who may to this point have little interest in, let alone relationship with, God.
Note that after this encounter, Jesus sails back home again. Which may mean that the whole trek across a stormy sea and turbulent run in with townspeople distraught by their loss of livestock and frightened by the power of this rabbi was all in order to meet this unclean man possessed by an unclean spirit living in an unclean and forsaken environment.
All of which suggests to me that there is absolutely nowhere God is not willing to go to reach and free and sustain and heal those who are broken and despairing.
Might we, Dear Partner, remind our folks this week that there is no place on earth that is God-forsaken. Moreover, and more importantly, there is no person that is God-forsaken. Unclean. Outcast. Abandoned. Unpopular. Incarcerated. Unbeliever. No one is left out. Consider, there is no indication that this Gentile man later became Jewish or, for that matter, Christian. He wants to follow Jesus, but Jesus sends him back home with the instructions, “Go and tell what God has done for you.”
To put all this another way: There are no conditions to be met to receive God’s love. You don’t have to be wealthy…or poor. You don’t have to be from one ethnic group…or another. You don’t have to have believed your whole life, or come to faith only recently, or have any faith at all. Jesus seeks out everyone, even this unclean man possessed by an unclean spirit living in an unclean place. And just so God loves all: male and female; young and old; gay or straight; white, black, Asian, Latino; believers and non-believers; Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, atheist; the list goes on.
Which might make us ask, where are we willing to go? Whom are we willing to love? In the wake of one more violent crime of hate and terror, we need, I think, first to be reminded that God is always among those in greatest pain and need and, second, that we are sent to go and do likewise. This week, that means God was particularly present in Orlando, and so should we, whether physically present, via vigil other means of support, or in our own corporate and personal prayer.
This is not often easy work, of course, but we take it up and go out knowing that God is with us, working through us to seek out those in need, to share a word of mercy and grace, and to witness to the hope we have in Jesus, the one who continues to seek us out when we feel down and out, caught in the shadow lands, eager for a new name, identity and future.
It’s an awesome task we have, Dear Partner, and I remain so grateful for the way you embrace it with courage and hope. Blessings on your preaching.
Yours in Christ,
David
Thank you again! It’s such a relief to find that your comment runs along my current line of preparation for preaching on this passage – identity. It’s Father’s Day in the UK which adds a nice nuance and there’s a football tournament going on in Europe which leads me to consider a rewrite of Galatians 3.28! I just love how you put things, and I really value and appreciate what you write – thank you. You really are a very great encouragement.
I am particularly appreciative of focus on Jesus love of outcasts as found in Luke’s gospel. It seems to me the core of who Jesus was and is and what our hurting world needs most these days. People around the world pray for the victims of gun violence in America and it grieves us all.
Is there not also a profound example of mercy here. Jesus has no reason to grant the demons’ request to avoid the abyss… and by any notion of justice they should be sent to their torment just as they tormented this man. Yet, God’s mercy in Jesus even allows these demons a chance with the swine. (Maybe that offers a strange thoughts for those that might consume the swine at some point.) Yet, the demons are given that mercy and promptly show their destructive nature is also self-destructive. Mercy doesn’t mean we do not continue in behaviors that can be destructive. The hope is… as with this man… there is a voice we share that reflects God’s life giving in Jesus.
I’m reflecting on all this, after learning about the shootings in Orlando shortly after morning services ended last Sunday. My church is nearing the end of a week-long day camp for children in the community, with counselors from Lutheran Outdoor Ministries. The theme is “love one another as Christ loved us.” Perhaps these children will hear something this week that will prevent them from becoming haters of themselves and others. Many of them are unchurched, and they leave with an invitation to return. I thought the same thing after teaching a few years in a maximum security prison. We are stewards of a story meant to be lived more so than told, yet our world seems greatly in need of storytellers despite mass media. I find that we often stand in the place of God as told in the Isaiah lesson today, wondering why folks don’t see what’s standing in front of them, waiting for recognition and the acceptance of the invitation to come and find mercy and relationships that change lives. But for now, we mourn, because without that, we ignore the pain of remembrance that just might keep us from not becoming the victim, but from enabling the oppressor.
This is a wonderful way to preach it in the Omaha Correctional Center this Sunday. Thanks for the hints!
Your thoughts are always so helpful. Such a great reminder of how profoundly God’s mercy reaches.
One question, if I may:
You said…. this young man respond to Jesus query, “What is your name?” by answering, “Legion.”
I’m confused. I thought that it was the ‘demon’ responding to the question Jesus asks? Have I had that wrong?
That’s a great point, Maria. I mulled that over, but I think that he has so lost himself to those possessing him that it is difficult to distinguish who is the man and who are those who have taken him captive. The answer, “Legion,” captures for me that loss of identity, whoever said it, and heightens the gift of identity, integrity, and wholeness Jesus offers him. Thanks for the question!
Thank you, as always, for your reflections. This is the direction my sermon is taking, and it is good to know I am not alone. Your reply to Maria is well taken, and reflects what I was planning to preach about prior to last weekend’s atrocities: the no-longer-quite-so-hidden epidemic of opioid and heroin addiction, and addiction in general. This illness is clearly a demon that steals identity–I see it firsthand in my own family. But can’t tackle everything in one sermon on one Sunday…
David,
Once again you give us inspiration and a new angle.
Here is a parallel angle to reflect on:
Crossings
L ake Galilee
E vil’s impurity
G erasene Garrison
I ron fetters
O utcast isolation
Crossings
L ake Galilee
E vil’s impurity
G erasene Garrison
I ron fetters
O utcast isolation
N aked and afraid
‘A Poem a Sunday”
kennsstudy.blogspot.com
Copyright kennstorck@gmail.com
May be used with permission
Legion is a pretty specific term – military in connotation and Latin in derivation. ISTM that there’s at least a subtle suggestion of a people taken by force – synarpazo – in the text.
Hi David,
I really liked this and stole some of it for my sermon this Sunday. I want to send it to you and I also want to send you a copy of my thesis. You don’t have to read the whole thing–just the acknowledgements page where I tell people that you inspired me to enter the program. Does your Luther email still work. Mine does. Thanks for all your work to help preachers. It makes a huge difference!