June 19, 1994

Proper 7 - Year B

St Paul’s Episcopal Church

Smithfield, NC 

Lessons:  Job 38: 1-11, 16-18

Psalm 107: 1-32

2 Corinthians: 5: 14-21

Mark 4: 35-41 5:1-20

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love.  Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created and you shall renew the face of the earth.   O God who by the light of the Holy Spirit did in trust the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolation; through Christ Our Lord.  Amen.

The last part of our Gospel lesson today is the subject of the sermon.  It is that part which is in parentheses, the part, which doesn’t have to be read.  After reading this story, you should understand why those who organized the lectionary gave us some choice concerning this rather odd lesson.  We have in a few short verses, a madman living in a grave yard, a legion of demons, pigs committing suicide, and Jesus seemingly negotiating with these same demons.  Let’s take a look at the story anyway, if for no other reason than that it is a difficult one.

Jesus and the confused, recently terrified, and chastised disciples have just come through a violent nighttime storm in a small boat.  They put ashore in gentile territory near an area of then predominately gentile towns called the Decapolis.  Immediately a complete madman, who was known to howl all night and mutilate himself, ran up to Jesus.  The demoniac has great strength but Jesus calmly talks to him and his demons, finally sending the demons where they asked to go, into a herd of pigs.  And as if to make a pointed statement about the unsuitability of pork even for gentiles, the pigs commit suicide.

There are some commentators who have suggested that possibly this demoniac was someone who had experienced some great loss in life, a wife, a parent, a child, perhaps and was living in the area of their grave in a complete state of madness.  Conjecture of this sort of course can never be proved but let’s presume for a few moments that the demoniac was driven mad by grief. 

Grief is one of the many wounds of the heart.  We are often told that it is important and even healthy for all of us to grieve when loss occurs in our life.  And I think most clinical evidence would support such a position.  It is possible to view grief and our grieving as a journey where we slowly pass through a valley of fear, anger and sorrow until we emerge from the valley into a new place of hope, peace, and joy.  Occasionally some of us get stuck in the valley, unable to emerge on the other side.  I am suggesting that it is just possible that the demoniac in today’s lesson may have been stuck in that valley of grief, possessed by demons, and unable to move beyond a loss in his life.

Since we have no evidence at all as to what demons really possessed this man, we can only ask of ourselves the question, “What demons possess us at a time of loss and cause us to get stuck in the graveyard?”  Let me suggest that honest, healthy grief is different than the howling, mutilating grief brought on by the demons associated with our inappropriate images of death and life.

John Claypool, an Episcopal Priest from Birmingham, Alabama, tells us that our images of death as the great annihilator and death as the great thief are two powerful negative views which often possess us in a way that keeps us in the graveyard.  He goes on to argue that if we can begin to see death as only one more transition from one phase of our journey with God, then death ceases to be the great annihilator and becomes a door, a transition.  When we were born, and experienced birth, into life, as we know it now, we at the time of birth also experienced death in terms of our life for 9 months in the womb.

Each major change in our life is an exit, a leaving behind of the old, and an entrance, and embracing of the new.  Changing our view of death from the demonic image of annihilator to the hopeful image of transition is one way to step away from the graveyard with its howling and mutilation.  The other image change for us involves both our image of death and life.  Instead of viewing death as a thief and life as our possession, John Claypool asks us to view life as God’s gift, not ours, and then death can no longer be a thief.  There is nothing to steal.  It’s not ours anyway.

If we really believe what we are about to say at the end of the Nicene Creed (We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.) then death is not the great annihilator and death is not the great thief.  Death becomes another exit with an entrance on the other side, a transition to a new phase of God’s journey with us into the great mystery.

The prayer that Father Rightmyer said at the beginning of the Eucharist:  “Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid:  Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit …” is a prayer for God to remove the false images of life and death which afflict us, the false images which allow the demons of fear and anger to possess us and cause us to live constantly in graveyards, howling and mutilating ourselves.  It is a prayer for God to do for us what Jesus did for the demoniac, to drive out the demons so that we might get ourselves properly dressed and into our full senses.

Let us pray:

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid:  Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy Name; through Christ our Lord.  Amen.