A Calamitous Miracle
Yesterday I had the privilege of preaching at First Baptist Church of Asheville, my beloved community of faith. My text was Luke 8:26-39, the story of Jesus’ encounter with the man who was possessed by legion of demons. You can read the text of my sermon below or watch the recording from our worship service. The gospel reading begins at the 22:30 mark, followed by the sermon.
“Return to your home and declare how much God has done for you.”
Return to your home? Return to the place where you are feared? Return home to the people who have seen you at your worst? Return to the folks who have begged Jesus to leave their region because he healed you? That’s a tall order.
We can understand why this man wants to get into the boat and sail away with Jesus. He wants to express his gratitude to God through service to the miracle worker. Accompanying Jesus also probably seems like the safest next step, given his troubled history in his community.
Why wouldn’t Jesus want this man to join his entourage and return to Galilee with him? This guy’s got a powerful testimony. He would make a great opening act the next time Jesus is preparing to preach a counter-cultural sermon or host a healing clinic or feed the multitudes. He would clearly be an asset on this mission team. But Jesus has something else in mind for this man and for his community.
Legion – not his given name – has been ostracized by his neighbors for years. Over time, their whispers about his out-of-bounds behavior have escalated to shouts of protest. His descent into darkness has led to rising anxiety in his community.
Imagine the town hall meeting when the problem with Legion is on the agenda. Local residents put the mayor on the spot. “What are you going to do about this guy who is running around naked in the cemetery?” “We can’t have a decent funeral anymore because of him.” “Have you heard him howling?” “I heard he cuts himself with rocks!”
A posse armed with chains and shackles is dispatched to the tombs to restrain Legion. Citizens are relieved that a guard will keep an eye on the man after he is confined. But that plan fails spectacularly. Legion is far too strong. He breaks their bonds and slips away, only to return to the tombs when the coast is clear.
The townspeople fear this man, the one they have labeled “demon-possessed.” What exactly did that mean? Based on the descriptions in the gospels, this man’s affliction has impacted his body, his mind, and his spirit. He is unable to control his self-destructive thoughts and actions. Something has indeed taken possession of him, prompting him to do things he would not have done if he had been in his right mind.
We don’t have to fully understand the nature of his condition to recognize the depths of this man’s suffering, the pain of his alienation. Cut off from his community, he is profoundly alone. Living on the literal margins of society, he is tormented and traumatized.
I wonder about this man’s family. Undoubtedly, they have also endured much suffering. But was Legion a runaway or a castaway? Did he flee from his family for some reason? Or did they send him away? Had they finally given up trying to help him after exhausting all their resources? Did they need to set boundaries to protect themselves? Perhaps his parents had perished, and, amidst inexpressible grief, Legion has sought refuge among the tombs in order to be close to them.
I wonder if anyone in the community has attempted to be a good neighbor to Legion. This story takes place in the region of the Gerasenes. This is Gentile territory. Jesus has not preached here. Locals are not familiar with his sermon emphasizing the imperative of feeding the hungry, giving water to thirsty, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, and caring for the prisoners. But Jesus didn’t introduce the concept of compassion. Surely someone has been moved by a God-given desire to mitigate human suffering.
Perhaps someone left food and water for him on a rock at the edge of the cemetery each day. Maybe some other good-hearted soul made sure blankets and clothing were available if he wanted them. Possibly someone ventured out to the tombs regularly to make welfare checks, to see if he was still alive.
Arguably, this man is barely alive – a shell of his former self - when Jesus disembarks from the boat, fresh from calming an overnight storm. His disciples stagger off the wooden vessel, never more grateful to place their feet on dry land. They do not know what to think of their Teacher, the One who has the power to control the winds and the waves.
Why did Jesus deliberately choose to sail to Gentile territory, on the other side of the lake from Galilee? Might we compare this situation to the time when Jesus “had to go through Samaria” instead of taking the traditional route from Judea to Galilee? Do you recall the outcome of that trip? Jesus’ theological conversation at a well with a Samaritan woman led to spiritual transformation – for the woman and for her community.
While a crowd is not on hand to welcome Jesus to the Gerasenes, the man with a crowded spirit makes a beeline for him as soon as Jesus steps ashore. Falling at Jesus’ feet, Legion cries out for mercy. He is possessed by an undeniable desire to draw near to the Son of the Most High God, even as he fears what might happen next.
What does happen next? A strange negotiation takes place. An entire sector of the local economy is obliterated. A deeply troubled man is healed. Jesus’ disciples witness yet another astounding display of divine power and authority.
Was this an exorcism or a healing? Does the distinction really matter? The man formerly known as Legion now sits at Jesus’ feet, clothed and in his right mind. He has experienced a stunning transformation of body, mind, and spirit. Jesus has healed him. Jesus has saved him.
So the entire community throws a party to celebrate this miracle, to welcome him home. Let’s have a feast! Let’s dance! The one who was lost has now been found. Glory to God!
No. That’s not at all what happened. This miracle is viewed as a calamity by the entire community - an event to be feared, not cheered. Healing is met with hostility, just like in the story of Paul and Silas. Remember when Mack preached about the fortune-telling slave girl who followed Paul and Silas around shouting, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation!”
After Paul cast the spirit of divination out of the slave girl, her owners were livid. That miracle also had an economic impact. Paul and Silas were subsequently dragged before the authorities, beaten by the crowd, and thrown into prison. Healing can be a dangerous endeavor.
When I worked at an addiction treatment center for women in Nashville, this story was in our regular rotation for Wednesday night Spiritual Wellness Group. Usually, clients volunteered to read verses from the passage aloud, and then we pondered the questions that naturally arose from the text. One night, though, we took a decidedly different approach.
Engaging our divine imagination, we wondered what it would have been like if a TV reporter had arrived on the scene in the Gerasenes, eager to interview eye-witnesses, as well as folks who could provide background information about the man who had been healed by Jesus.
For this exercise, the women were divided into four groups. The first group pretended to be the man’s family. They recounted the anguish of watching his life spiral out of control. They recalled their amazement when they heard the news that a mysterious man had healed him. They were delighted to find him sitting, fully clothed, at Jesus’ feet . . . but they wondered if this would last.
The second group imagined themselves to be pig farmers. As you might expect, this was a more hostile interview. The swineherds were the eyewitnesses. They were the ones who had spread the news about the calamitous miracle that had changed the life of the one who had been possessed while simultaneously decimating their livelihood. Why did their pigs have to die? And who was this man who had the power to heal and destroy?
The third group represented neighbors who heard the news and hurried to town to see the formerly demon-possessed man for themselves. They had watched this local boy grow up to become a menace to society, an object of scorn, a source of communal consternation. Yet now he appeared to be in his right mind - but could they really risk trusting him?
The final group wrote the script for the man of the hour, the one formerly known as Legion. His memories beyond childhood were sketchy. He couldn’t recall exactly how he ended up living among the tombs or how even long he had been there. But he could describe the joyful experience of liberation. He could describe his overwhelming desire to follow Jesus. He wanted to spend more time with the One who had transformed his life. But Jesus told him to go home and tell his story, so that’s exactly what he intended to do.
That Wednesday evening exercise prompted me to think more deeply about this story as I pondered new questions. A few weeks ago, I had the chance to discuss this story with the residents of the Recovery Living Ministry at Costello House during our Wednesday morning Spirituality in Recovery group. My conversation with the men that day raised even more questions for me – particularly about what might have happened next after Jesus sailed away and the man began to share the story of what God had done for him.
If the man’s neighbors fail to welcome him home, if they refuse to listen to his sacred story, what will the lasting impact be – for him and for them? What if support and encouragement are nowhere to be found? What if fear never gives way to love?
If this man never again feels that he truly belongs in his community, can he stay there? Perhaps he can summon the fortitude to remain in the Gerasenes by focusing on how Jesus has restored his identity. He now knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a beloved child of God – despite what those inner voices once told him he was, despite what the voices of judgment in his community claimed he was.
But what if social rejection prompts him to make the difficult decision to leave, to go to a place where no one knows him. Can he start over? Yes, he probably can, but his departure will be a loss for him and a loss for his neighbors.
And then there’s the worst-case scenario. If this man continues to feel disconnected – a perpetual outcast – he might even be tempted to return to the tombs. What a tragedy that would be - for everyone.
Jesus commissions the man formerly known as Legion to be the first missionary to the Gentiles. His story is good news, not only for him but also for them. His neighbors have so much to learn - if they will listen to his story, if they will drop the labels they have affixed to him, if they will take a risk and trust him, if they will take a risk and trust the One who healed him.
Jesus healed the demon-possessed man and restored him to his community. His story can become their communal story. A miracle happened right here! The Son of the Most High God showed up in our community, healed our neighbor, and we have all been transformed.
“Return to your home and declare how much God has done for you.”
Will they welcome him home and listen to his story? Will we?