Mark 1:21-28

Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught.

They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.

Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out: ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’

But Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him!. And the unclean spirit, throwing him into convulsions and crying with a loud voice, came out of him.

They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He* commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’

At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

Bob was fighting unclean spirits all the time: in himself, at the church, all around. The first time I met Bob I was leading service by myself for the first time at St. John’s in Phoenix. Bob walked onto campus wearing three coates, sports goggles, and had a large buck knife hanging from his belt. He mumbled his first words to me: who are you and who do you serve? What a greeting right?

I quickly, and as kindly as I could, introduced myself and asked him who he was. He said “they call me Bob. I’m a warrior of the Lord.” Okay… Church starts in like 5 minutes. By this time I am sweating bullets, which was normal in Arizona but this was way worse. So I ask Bob if he’s been here before and says, “are you getting cross with me…?” No, no, no Bob. (Please I think to myself, I just want to get through my first service!) Finally I told Bob he was welcome to join us, we’d be happy to have him, but the knife stays out here.

He said “oh I know that, maybe I will or I might be here”.

Bob didn’t join us that day, but he kept coming back. Each time he was a little less threatening and we got to know each other more. Bob felt he had demons, real unclean spirits, attacking him or surrounding him wherever he was. He would patrol the perimeter of the campus to ward them off. He would point at them and curse them; unafraid to walk right up to them. For Bob, expelling demons was a part of his everyday life.

I suspect many of us don’t know what to do with stories in the Bible about casting out uncleaning spirits or exorcizing demons. We think we are so different from Bob or the man in the story. Afterall, we don’t really believe in those types of things, do we? We have science, the scientific method. None of it has proven the existence of demons or unclean spirits, right? In our western minds, demons and unclean spirits exist only in indigenous cultures, or scary movies, or in folks who are seriously mentally ill.

But should we be so quick to dismiss this notion? Just because we don’t understand or haven't experienced them doesn’t mean they aren’t real, does it? I asked our faith formation students if they thought angels and demons existed, and their opinions were across the spectrum from “absolutely i've experienced them” to “absolutely not.”I like what Mary Oliver says in her poem, “the World I Live In”. She writes:

I have refused to live locked in the orderly house of reasons and proofs. The world I live in and believe in is wider than that. And anyway, what’s wrong with Maybe? You wouldn’t believe what once or twice I have seen. I’ll just tell you this: only if there are angels in your head will you ever, possibly, see one.

Can not the same be true of unclean spirits? I am not trying to suede you or convince you to believe demons or angels are real. However, we should not write off others’ experiences so quickly, like the man in our story or my friend Bob. If anything, perhaps our understanding of unclean spirits is too narrow, which means our view of Jesus' power and ministry is too narrow, too.

Jesus, along with his first four disciples, strolled into Capernaum. Then on the sabbath, Jesus walked right into the synagogue and began teaching. He must have been feeling rather confident, maybe from seeing the heavens rip open at his baptism or from defeating the devil's temptations in the wilderness. Regardless of why, he taught with authority, as one who is sure and passionate about what he’s saying. And in the midst of that, the man with the unclean spirit comes up to him.

That’s what we read, “a man with an unclean spirit”. Yet, what the Greek says is a little more terrifying… It reads, a man “in” an unclean spirit… as if the unclean spirit has swallowed up the man, so much so that he could no longer be identified apart from the spirit that’s overtaken him. He was known only by this thing that had taken control of him, running and ruining his life.

So when the man cries out “what have you to do with us Jesus?”, I don’t think he’s referring to all the people in the synagogue, but instead referring to himself and the demon he can’t shake. And asking if Jesus has come to destroy “them” makes it clear: the man is consumed, terrified, and unsure what Jesus will do…

We too know what it’s like to be swallowed up by unclean spirits, so much so that our identity is unknown apart from the demon we have. You don’t call it an unclean spirit, but when you get so angry you can’t see straight, what else is that? Or when you fixate your gaze on a person, or a screen, or on sex. When you obsess about always getting more: more money, more stuff. When you can’t see the good things in front of you and only wish for what others have. When someone knows you not for who you are but only for what and who you stand against. All of these spirits can swallow you up so that no one can see you apart from them. They can run and ruin your life. And maybe you too are consumed, terrified, and unsure what Jesus will do…

This story, the first public action of Jesus ministry, tells us that Jesus is more powerful than any unclean spirit we could face. With as much authority as he taught with, Jesus commands the unclean spirit to shut up and come out, setting the man free. And the spirit does just that, but not without a fight, shaking and screaming until the end.

We’ve all been possessed by unclean spirits: powers that hurt you and others, voices telling you that you aren’t loved, things that seek to divide, disparage, and denigrate. We all want to be set free.

Thankfully, that's what the mission and ministry of Jesus is all about. In baptism, God claims you as God’s own and covers you in the grace and forgiveness only Jesus offers. Rather than a life full of anger and greed, jealousy, and hatred, at the font and at this table we are invited and empowered to live a life of peace and generosity, discipline and love.

But how do we experience this liberation? For some of us, it was quick, like a grace-filled lightning strike and your life was forever changed. For others of us the path of healing and freedom is longer and requires more companions along the way: like the unending support of a Stephen minister, the persistent presence of Al-anon meetings and sponsors, a parent support group, a prayer partner, or a fantastic therapist. We can be confident that God works in all of these ways, and more that we may not even notice, to liberate us from unclean spirits.

What is the unclean spirit that swallows you up? What’s the thing trying to run and ruin your life?

Often we are too scared to name it, to examine it, in case it takes greater hold of us. How’s that going for you?

Instead, what if we take a cue from my friend Bob; rather than ignore or deny it; point at, curse it, be unafraid to ask God to free you from that which threatens you, trusting that Jesus is still more powerful than any spirit we face.

Maybe we aren’t so different after all.

Amen

Luke 8:26-39

Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As 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. When 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”— for 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.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now 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. Then 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.

When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then 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. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then 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. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “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.

Everyone’s afraid today, it seems to me. The Gerasenes are afraid of the possessed man and everyone is afraid of Jesus – that man, his demons, the townspeople and, even though they don’t say so, those pigs must have been terrified.

So, this time around, this Gospel story had me thinking about the saying: “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” You’ve heard this before, right? I know another version of it thanks to an Indigo Girls’ song that sings: “The devil I know is starting to look awfully kind.” Emily Saliers, who wrote the song, sings about leaving a bad relationship, but being tempted to stay for fear or anxiety or uncertainty about the unknown.

Whatever the case, the implication is that sometimes we’re inclined, or tempted, or afraid – scared – into sticking with what we know and with what’s familiar – even if it’s bad – for fear the alternative may be even worse. We’re more afraid of what we don’t know that what we do – even if what we do know is pretty awful. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

It’s something like what I think is going on with the Gerasenes and this possessed man and Jesus today. I suspect you’ve heard something about this strange story before – this bizarre little ditty about a demon-possessed man, some pigs on the hillside, and one of Jesus’ more obscure miracles. As strange as it is, it’s very much like what Jesus did so often: He showed up in strange territory. He opened his heart to a stranger. He loved someone everyone else had rejected. He found what had be so very lost and he fixed what had been broken.

In this case, this naked, possessed – perhaps mentally ill – sick, scared, ostracized man who’s been pushed out of his community, forced to live among the untouchable tombs on the outskirts of town, is miraculously made well, set free, healed of his affliction at the expense of some pigs who can’t swim. And what is celebrated by the likes of you and me – and likely celebrated by Jesus’ disciples back in the day, too – as another great miracle … isn’t exactly received as good news with great joy by the people in the country of the Garasenes.

The same people who had banished this poor, possessed, pathetic man from their midst, to the other side of the tracks; who had bound him with shackles and chains at times, weren’t exactly happy about what Jesus had done. Apparently, they were even more afraid of the power of Jesus’ healing than they were of whatever had scared them so much about this guy in the first place.

Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, right?

Because what must this mean, that one who was sick was now well? What must it mean that one who had been worthless, banished, broken beyond repair was now none of those things – but was now the opposite of those things, in fact – loved (by Jesus), valued (by Jesus), restored, returned home, made whole?

And, even more, what must it mean that this guy, Jesus, this foreigner from Nazareth in Galilee, made it all happen? This Jesus who would cast the mighty down from their thrones and lift up the lowly; who would fill the hungry with good things and send the rich away empty; this Jesus who was touching lepers and healing the paralyzed; who hung out with fishermen and with women from the city; who broke the rules of the sabbath; this Jesus who proclaimed and promised a kingdom where humility, mercy, forgiveness, generosity, sacrifice and love of enemies were all evidence of victory and signs of strength.

Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

Because if Jesus could do what he did to that Legion of demons – and if all the stories of his healing and teaching were true – than maybe all the rest of his ideas and promises and proclamations were true, too. And that might mean change for the status quo. It might mean that some tables would be turning, sometime soon. It might mean that who and what were once banished would be welcomed home again. It might mean that who and what were once considered sick and sinful would be well and worthy, instead.

It might mean that the familiar devil of complacency and of the status quo were starting to look awfully kind and easy in the face of all the change and challenge that God’s kingdom proposed. That’s why I imagine the people were so afraid of what they had seen in the country of the Gerasenes that day.

The devil they knew in their demon-possessed neighbor – and their ability to banish, ostracize, and disdain him – was more appealing than the love of God, in Jesus, that called them to welcome him home, to show him mercy, to see him as redeemed … to love him as Jesus had done.

The devil they knew – the lifestyle and life they were used to – was starting to look awfully kind, apparently; and better – safer – more familiar – than the alternative.

And isn’t that the case a lot of the time, still today?

I think about how women can be tricked, scared and threatened into remaining in abusive relationships. Sadly, the devils they know trick them into fearing what they don’t.

I think about young people who struggle with coming out of the closet. They’ve been tricked or shamed or scared into thinking that hiding and keeping secrets is more comfortable or more safe than living into the truth of their identity.

But it doesn’t have be quite so dramatic.

I know a devil named “Lazy” who keeps me from exercising as much as I should. I know a devil named “Busy” who keeps me from meditating and praying more often than I do. I know devils called “Pride” and “Ego” and “Greed” – and more – besides who keep me stuck in ways I wish I wasn’t.

And I’m not alone, am I? We stick with the devils we know in all kinds of ways, don’t we? And they are legion. We stay at jobs that don’t fulfill us, but that pay the bills – because what would the new thing be? We avoid conflict and hard conversations, for fear of the alternative. We keep more for ourselves because it seems scary to give more of it away. We do what we’ve always done – even when it ceases to bear fruit – just because we haven’t found the will or the way to do otherwise.

But what we forget is the same thing the Gerasenes couldn’t see or believe, just yet: that the quote-unquote “devil” we don’t know – or forget we know – is Jesus, who is no “devil” at all … but Jesus, master of grace and mercy and second-chances. Jesus, healer of our every ill. Jesus, lover of losers, forgiver of sinners, and friend of the broken. Jesus, who stills storms and calms seas and invites his people to step out onto them – in faith – and in spite of their better judgment.

We forget we know this Jesus, who calls us always to new things… new ways of living and moving and breathing in this world. This Jesus calls us to new joy, new hope, new life in spite of our fears and precisely because he is Jesus, crucified, died and risen for the sake of the world.

Amen

Bob and I Aren't So Different

Better the Devil You Know