The Man in the Cemetery [Proper 7C - Luke 8:26-39]
The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
Luke 8:26-39
The Man in the Cemetery
Church of the Redeemer, Rensselaer
No one visited the cemetery anymore. It was occupied by a man who was himself
occupied. And so everyone else in the
country of the Gerasenes avoided the old tombs, the graves of their ancestors
and friends, because they were afraid.
The man in the cemetery wasn’t always like this. There was a time, before the occupation, that
he was more, I guess you might say, normal.
When it first happened, his loved ones tried to help. They wrapped him up in chains to try to
subdue his chaos and frenzy. But it
never worked. And so now, he was alone,
with the dead.
Alone, except for his demons.
Unlike the humans, his demons refused to leave. And they refused to let him leave, refused to
return him to the people he once knew and loved. The town was terrorized by the man’s wild
presence. But also he was terrorized by
the army that ruled his existence.
It is no accident that the company of demons, in our Gospel
story, is named “Legion.” There are many
words that suggest a large number of something, but “legion” was chosen,
because it was a familiar, and evocative, term in Jesus’ context.
You might remember that that entire region was occupied by
the powerful Roman Empire. The Empire
ruled by brutal power; it thrived on fear.
The military companies of the Empire, those of approximately 5000 Roman
soldiers, the companies that controlled the occupied cities, were called legions. And they dominated the communities in which
Jesus and his contemporaries lived; they were a constant oppressive presence. The very sight of the entering army broke the
spirit of the community: the people understood immediately that they were no longer
free. Their hope was shattered and their
will was broken. The man’s soul was an
occupied domain – there was no room for hope, no will to walk into a better
future; he was dominated by his enemy intruders – until Jesus showed up.
Before exiting the boat, into this opposite place, Jesus’
ministry had taken place exclusively in his own Jewish world. Amongst his own people, he was met with
crowds, surrounded by crowds, occasionally even threatened by crowds, great
crowds, throngs, a lot of people. His
entry into the land of the Gentiles was subdued in comparison. He was greeted by…one man. And the one man was naked and possessed.
And dramatic. As Jesus
reaches the shore, this man falls down before Jesus and begins shouting at the
top of his voice, as loudly as he possibly can.
Jesus, of course, handles it well.
I do wonder what the disciples were thinking.
In the chaos, Jesus stops and talks to the man. And that might seem like a small detail, but
it is a big deal. Because nobody talked
to this man anymore. He lived alone,
with his demons, in the cemetery. He was
the village pariah. He was the homeless
man whom folks avoided with their eyes and their feet. He was a prisoner of the margins of his own
society. The community only remembered
to fear him. But Jesus stopped and saw
him and talked with him and stayed with him.
And Jesus set him free.
Jesus drove out that occupying army.
And he did so, in rather dramatic fashion. The pigs are, quite literally, the splashiest
detail of the story.
But not the most important.
The pigs pique the people’s interest, but the miracle is sitting at the
feet of Jesus. They find the man whom
not even chains could subdue at peace in the presence of this mysterious
stranger. The man who once was naked is
clothed. The man was no longer
terrorized. He was well. He was healed.
And the crowds noticed him, noticed the difference. But they didn’t rejoice; they didn’t
celebrate. Once again, like they had
been before the transformation, they were afraid.
But now for a different reason. Now, they were afraid because Jesus had the
power to set people free. They were
afraid of that and afraid of Jesus because he could drive away the demons that
haunted their lives. It seems like they should
and would be happy about that. But you
know what they say, “better the devil you know…” And Jesus drove out the devil they knew.
Which tells us that the man in the cemetery wasn’t the only
person in that town who knew too well the weight of bondage – his demons were
just harder to hide. The entire town
counted on demons and their host in the cemetery; that tortured man and his
legion were a helpful diversion; nothing, and no one, looked that bad in
comparison to the naked man raving down by the tombs. But because of Jesus, he was well and that
was scary. For a long time, they all hid
behind their own demons in plain sight.
And now there was nowhere to hide.
But even scarier yet: what if Jesus made their precious demons leave
too? The man lost his identity when he
lost his demons. Who would they be if
they were healed?
As the story ends, the man Jesus healed appears to be the
healthiest person in town. It’s a
shocking twist. And it is
understandable, given the past and present, that the man decides to leave, to follow
Jesus right out of that inhospitable town.
But Jesus doesn’t let him.
So many times in the Gospel Jesus asks people to follow him – often he asks
people who have little or no interest to follow him. And now this man wants to follow Jesus,
actually begs to follow Jesus, and Jesus turns him down.
Because Jesus needs him to stay. The same town that didn’t want the man, now needs
him desperately. Because he knows the
way to freedom. Jesus makes him stay
because Jesus recognizes that the town is still occupied. The town still has its demons. The people are still dominated and ruled by pathologies
and fear. And God wants to see them be
free. God knows they need to hear the
Good News of a love that can and will transform their lives. And who better to tell that story than the
very man whose life was changed by Jesus?
The man in the cemetery lost a legion and gained a
testimony.
In this anxious age, amidst a world of fearful people, Jesus is
still in the miracle business. Jesus is
willing to cross any sea, enter every cemetery, search out and find every hopeless
soul. Jesus sets the captive free, not
always by removing you from the place of struggle, but by transforming you
within it. Like the man, you too have a testimony to share, a story of
liberation to live, a tale of the transformative strength of God’s miraculous
love. Go then, and, like the man, declare what God has done for you.
Excellent Homily
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