In Search of Healing, In Search of Peace
In Search of Healing, In Search of Peace
A Sermon for Pleasant Street Church, UCC
Rev. Reebee Girash
June 20, 2010
Text: Luke 8: 26-39
Luke 8:26-39
26 Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite
Galilee. 27 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. 28 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”— 29 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.) 30 Jesus then asked him, “What is
your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. 31
They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. 32 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. 33
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. 34
When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it
in the city and in the country. 35 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. 36 Those who had seen it told them how the
one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. 37 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. 38 The man from whom the demons had gone begged that
he might be with him; but Jesus h sent him away, saying, 39 “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.
Prayer
Sermon
Mary Anderson points out that this man with demons was literally buried alive. He was outside of the community (by his own choice? Or was he sent away?). Living in a graveyard. Filled with demons. Isolated. On the edge of abyss. Buried alive.
Commentators vary on this, but most say that this man’s “demons” were the 1st century description of what our 21st century language would call mental illness.
I have to say at the outset: my words are going to be awkward. I am working hard to use the right language, but I’m going to get it wrong.
The very first place that the words get me into trouble is the term “demons.” This passage is known by the phrase, “The Garesene Demoniac.” There are two problems with that phrase, aside from its unpronouncability. The first is this: we no longer believe that supernatural forces send demons into people. The second is: it defines this man solely based on his disorder, not recognizing his wholeness and value beyond a mental disorder.
But Jesus asks the right question. He sees the man, and asks: What is your name? I’m reading against the text a little here, I think Jesus is asking the whole man this question, but at that moment his demons are so strong that they answer for him, Legion. Many. A destructive army of disorders. Jesus is going to give this man a chance to reveal his true name, his real self, by sending the demons out from him. We may not know his true name, but we can call him something other than a “demoniac” – I will call him today, brother.
Jesus saw him as a whole person.
And Jesus sent the demons out from him, so that his wholeness, his beauty, his belovedness, could be seen once more by everyone around him.
But Jesus did not stop there. It would have been enough, to see this beloved child brother with eyes of compassion. It would have been enough to set him free of the pain of mental illness. But Jesus took a third step. He called this beloved child of God into ministry. The man wanted to stay by Jesus’s side (it would be so safe there) but Jesus sent him, into his community, as a disciple of Jesus, to proclaim good news. To tell what God had done for him. He was not the only one in this community to struggle. He was not the only one to be excluded. Having been healed, he had a ministry. Now his eyes could see with compassion. Now his voice could speak of wholeness and holiness. “After all, who can understand the coming power of resurrection better than someone who has lived as a dead man, but is now alive in Christ?” (Mary Anderson, Christian Century)
Nancy Lee Head, a contributor to the FaithNet project of the National Alliance for Mental Illness, speaks of what faith has meant to her, dealing with schizophrenia. Prayer and scripture and community have, in her words, helped her “to learn to live with schizophrenia and its effects… At the same time, I need to say that I am not sure that I know how to stay in the better place in which I find myself right now. That is one concern that keeps us humble. We never know what we are going to be like tomorrow or if that insidious unreality and confusion will again creep into our brains and confound our lives once more. I do not ever dwell on that concern, but I do affirm within myself often that the Creator, Sustainer God of Love who has brought me safe thus far and who is within me and around me today is already there in our tomorrows, whatever they hold, and that is enough to know!”
http://www.nami.org/PrinterTemplate.cfm?Section=My_Life_as_Ministry&Template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=32374&MicrositeID=176&site=FaithNet_NAMI
This is our opportunity as a spiritual community: To see every person as God’s beloved child, worthy, gifted, whole. To offer messages of love, of grace, of hope. This is an opportunity that I am glad to say we have and do take up at PSCC. We don’t do it perfectly, but work at it.
We are not Jesus. For those of you who may have been wondering, let me just make that clear: we are not Jesus. Jesus brought this man, this brother, buried alive, bound by a legion of demons, ostracized by his community, Jesus brought him all the way back: to wholeness, to new life, to wellness, and then sent him out, into his community to minister. Jesus called him from the worst possible extreme of despair, all the way into ministry. He did it, this redeemer of ours, with divine power, and divine words.
I could not call someone from hurt to healing on my own. I am not Jesus.
I could not move someone from being buried alive by the demons of severe mental illness, into ministry. I am not Jesus.
But I can be part of a community, that with many hearts and hands, offers welcome, support, grace, companionship on a journey of healing.
Teresa of Avila said 500 years ago:
Teresa of Avila (1515–1582)
Christ Has No Body
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
We are the hands of Christ… we as a faith community are part of the body of Christ. I hope you’ll excuse me stretching a metaphor almost too far – maybe I am the cartilage in the middle knuckle of the left thumb of Christ, and you are the left thumbnail, and you the pointer fingerprint.
Together we are Christ’s hands in this world,
When we see each person as beloved.
When we say, welcome brother, welcome sister.
When we work for inclusion and hospitality.
When we research treatments.
When we seek to educate ourselves
When we offer words of support.
When we believe in someone.
When we see a whole person, not just a legion of problems.
When we create a community of hope (phrase of Brandon Fitch, NAMI)
When we seek to build up, renew, offer strength to all who enter here.
When our communion table is truly open to all
When we stand beside someone, and say, take my hand
When we are sent forth slightly different…a little more loving…with more compassion for our neighbors
When we advocate for mental health care funding and programming.
When we proclaim and work for liberation
When we carry each other (to quote U2)
When we experience healing and don’t keep it to ourselves, but offer it to others.
All together, it adds up. It might not push a legion of demons out of someone. But it might help them move forward, one step at a time, on a path of healing.
There’s a folk band who sings this theme so well:
Oh, my brother
won’t you stand here beside me
we shall carry each other home
and should your soul grow weary
or the strength leave your bones
oh my brother
I will carry you home
(Eddie from Ohio, Oh My Brother)
Amen.