The gospel lesson for next Sunday is Luke’s telling of
Jesus’s encounter with the madman of Gerasa and his demons. We find this related in all three synoptic
gospels, with much variation. The story
clearly worried the early church – and it is a big problem for various
reasons. My first self-protective instinct
was to talk about something else this morning.
But this unpleasant narrative does have a weird challenge about it – how
can we talk intelligently and meaningfully in the 21st century, as
people of faith, about demons and madness…?
I think it is worth noting that Luke has sandwiched this
story between the dramatic account of Jesus stilling the storm on the lake, and
the incidents where Jesus instantly heals a woman with a chronic haemorrhage,
and then raises a dead child to life. So
Jesus is being depicted as having supernatural power, over the storm, over the
world of demons, and over sickness and even death. And we have to ask, all the more urgently…
How do we approach all this in our day, sensibly, sensitively, without
surrendering to naiveté and superstition, in order to hear what these things may
be saying to us about God and faith.
Of course the story comes to us in 1st century
terms. Madness was demon
possession. Jesus could speak to the
demons. The man lived chained up naked
in the graveyard. He had no name but
called himself Legion. And animal rights
people just have to endure the fact that Jesus orders the demons into a lot of
pigs, which are forthwith drowned in the lake.
Of course, strict Jews would have thought that was appropriate for pigs,
unclean animals – rather in the way the Nazis thought it appropriate to torment
Jews because they were only Untermenschen,
sub-human, anyway.
Now… The more I think about this, the more I realise that I
am not at all ready to wave any light dismissal to demons. There is a pitch of evil which is not
explained by all our science. We don’t
explain it by demons either. But when we
say, for instance, that someone has personal demons, it is a graphic way of
referring to a reality. I wonder, do we teach serious sustained history
in our schools anymore? My teachers were
people steeped in the ancient classics and onwards, and they understood in the
human record that, like eruptions on the skin, evil simply breaks through into
human activity and society, and even the most intelligent of us can default to
it and become captive to it. We have
seen this over and over in history, and we are most certainly seeing it in our
day. The evil which compelled a man to
murder 49 people and injure as many more, from motives of pure hatred, in a
Florida nightclub. The evil which is
compelling thousands of crazed men with guns, around Syria and Libya and other
parts, killing people and laying waste to the land. The evil which drives football fans to turn
into drunken mobs, mindlessly attacking others…
And I have no time even to get started on the evils of injustice and
inequality, much more complex, which see people left without the utter basics
of food, water, housing or safety, health care or education.
It seems to me, as a Christian believer, that evil stalks
abroad. It seems to me also that in this
story of the Gerasene demoniac we have, an ancient picture, of Jesus confronting
the evil, bringing light and health, delivering, and creating anew. It has been and remains true in the lives of
many believers. The deliverer, this
Jesus, is whom we encounter in our silence and submission.
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