Thursday, June 23, 2016

Love Wins...

In each of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), there is a story of a demon-possessed Gerasene man and his encounter with Jesus.  Each time I engage with this text, it stirs up within me memories of my favorite place on earth.  Twice I have had the privilege of traveling to Israel, and both times, I have felt completely at peace and at home along the shores of the Sea of Galilee.  Many things in Holy Land have changed since the time of Jesus – paths have become roads, stone structures have been replaced by modern buildings, and churches have been built on top of ancient sites.  But the Sea of Galilee – I know that is the body of water that my Jesus walked on.  The first time I went to Israel, as I was standing on the northern-side near the place of the Sermon on the Mount, I looked out across the beautiful water and tried to recall all of the stories I possibly could that took place on that lake.  Our tour guide came up beside me and pointed off to our left.  “See that cliff,” he said, “where it looks like there are jagged edges that go down into the water?  That is where Jesus commanded that demons be sent into pigs and then they ran into the lake.”  That was one story I hadn’t recalled.  When we were back on the bus, I pulled out my Bible and found this very story in Mark, Chapter 5.  The geography of the land and stories of Scripture came together and made sense in an all new way.

What fascinates me about Scripture is how geography and historical and social context can often uncover an a motley collection of layers within the text.  I have heard the Scriptures compared to the many facets of a diamond.  With each turn, you get a new and different look.  You can be looking at the same text, and turn it just a bit and see a completely different side.  Our story today is like that.  On the surface, this story looks to be a miraculous healing story, but if we turn it and look at it in a different light, it can be seen as a text of resistance against a violent Empires.  Let me explain what I mean.
 

The story begins ... “One day he got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side of the lake.”  Along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, as I looked out across the water, I could see that other side of the lake was literally the other side of the lake.  You could see it in the distance from Capernaum – the other side was right there.  Yet, the other side was another country, ruled by Rome.  It was Gentile territory, called the Decapolis.  The other side was full of “others.”  They worshiped wrong gods and practiced the wrong religion.  Being a part of the wrong culture, they ate the wrong things.  Being of the wrong ethnicity, they spoke the wrong language.
     

As soon as Jesus gets out of the boat, he is met by this man possessed by demons.  The demon immediately speaks Jesus’ name: “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?”  And Jesus responds by asking for the name of the demon.    The demons answer that their name is Legion.  This back and forth naming of Jesus and of the Gerasene man is significant.  In the ancient world, Emperors were thought to be divine, or they wanted their subjects to think that they were given their power by the gods.  In many ancient writings, Emperor Caesar Augustus was referred by these names: divine, Son of God, Lord, Redeemer, Liberator, Savior of the World.  Sound familiar?  The demon calls Jesus by a name reserved for Caesar.  And Legion?  Legion was a Roman military term.  A Legion consisted of up to 5,000 men - the infantry, cavalries and squadrons.  A Legion was the leading source of Jewish social, political and economic oppression.  And the Gospel writers take these names, and turn the story into a text of resistance.  Who has the power – Jesus or Rome?  Who will win?
 

But this is also a healing story.  So we turn the text and we see that when Jesus begins his interactions with the Gerasene man by asking for his name, what seems to be a basic and simple question, has many implications.  The man had been living among the tombs, an outcast from society, and banished from human connection.  When shacked with chains, he broke them. He was scabbed and scarred, bruised and broken.  The demons within him were strong and erratic - they sought to separate him from his community, to restrict, confine and render him unworthy of human dignity.  The man’s demons forced him to the fringes of society and made him an “other” in the land of “others.”  “What is your name?” Jesus asks.  With this question, Jesus humanizes the “other,” gives him an identity, and gives him a voice.
    

A couple of years ago I met Mike Simons, a photojournalist for the Tulsa World.  Since our meeting, I have kept up with his work by following him on Facebook.  A couple weeks ago, he posted pictures that he took of a homeless man in Tulsa.  He told the story of seeing the man on the off ramp of 244 near Lewis and thinking, “This guy has the most amazing face.  I have to photograph him.”  Mike begins by asking his name.  His name is Greg.  And then Mike asks him, “Anybody ever told you that you have a wonderful face?” to which the man replies, “Most people tell me I’m ugly.”  He is an “other,” an outcast on the fringes of society, invisible, his humanity often ignored.  A couple weeks later, as I was walking out of Quik Trip, I see a homeless man walking up the sidewalk.  And I recognize him.  He does have a wonderful face.  The crevices of his face are deep and tell the story of a hard life.  His dark hair, sprinkled with salty strands, is long, unkempt and rather wild, but beneath it his dark eyes peer out.  His name is Greg.  On any other day, I most likely would have just passed right by this homeless man, this outcast and other, without a second thought, but that day, I paused.  His name was Greg and he was not invisible.  He was a human.  Names have a way of doing that.  Reminding us who we are and reminding us of the humanity of others.
    

The Gerasene man’s demons are named Legion.  And Legion begs Jesus not send them into the abyss.  Legion begs Jesus to send them instead into a herd of pigs.  And Jesus agrees, sending the demons into pigs that then rush into the water and drown.  Jesus asks the demons their name and then Jesus extends mercy.  He has mercy on even the demons. 
    

When the townspeople hear that all of their pigs have gone off into the sea, they come rushing out to see what has happened, and they find this man, whose relationship with his community had been broken, clothed and in his right mind.  He had been healed.  He had been freed from the oppression of the demons, just as Israel hoped to be freed from the oppression of Rome.  The man is grateful and wants to remain with Jesus.  Wouldn’t you?  His family, his friends, his community had banished him, treated him like an outcast, bound him in chains.  They sent him to live among the tombs.  And Jesus had set him free.  But Jesus insists that he return to his community.  Not only did Jesus bring healing and restoration to the man’s body, but Jesus wanted to restore community and reestablish human relationships.
    

The man is healed and made whole and then told to spread the good news of what God had done for him.  In the story, Jesus wins.  Not Legion – not demons, not Rome.  Jesus wins through his love and mercy.  Love wins.
    

Love wins.  I love that expression.  It’s an expression that I have incorporated into in my life, a ritual of sorts, reminding me of a foundational truth that I am deeply grounded in.  Love wins.  I type it into computers several times every day.  Love wins.  I believe it to be true.  I believe when the end draws near, God will win, which means love will win.  I believe that love is louder than hate and that love wins against hate.  Love wins, period.  I believe it deep in my bones.  So, when I saw a statement the other day the countered this belief, it caught me off guard.  Of this dictum, a friend wrote, “It’s a mistake to simply put a period at the end of the two words and walk away smiling.”  He insisted: Love wins is not a foregone conclusion, manifest destiny, or inevitable.  It doesn’t happen beyond any question of doubt; it is not absolute, inescapable or certain.  You see, Love wins ... (dot, dot, dot).  The ellipses are everything.  I had missed it before.  The ellipses are you and the ellipses are me.  The ellipses are the work of the church.
    

The man is sent back into his community and told to share with others the goodness of God.  He became and partner, an active participant, in the work of the Divine.  Love wins ... IF.  Love wins...if we choose share God’s goodness with the world.  Love wins...if we are willing to show grace to all people, not just the ones we like and with whom we agree.  Love wins...if we are willing to show mercy and love to our demons. 
    

Who are your demons?  Do you know their name?  Sometimes our demons are within and sometimes they are all around us.  Inner demons can be those painful parts of our past that we can’t let go of; they can be addictions, secrets, greed, bitterness.  Our demons cause us to judge ourselves so harshly that we often isolate ourselves from others - even God.  Other demons are all around us.  They are the people whose posts on Facebook make our blood boil.  They think differently, act differently, live differently, believe differently.  Our demons are often the “other.”  Republicans and Democrats.  Conservatives and Liberals.  Evangelicals and Progressives.  Whoever we have “othered” and consider to be wrong.  We humans are pretty good at dividing ourselves to separate ourselves from those we have demonized.  
    

Although demons may appear to be strong, they are actually quite weak.  Their strength only comes through separation and segregation.  Disconnection and division gives demons their power.  It was true for the Gerasene man and it is true for you and I every time we choose to let ourselves be divided and isolated.  Division leads to fear and fear leads to violence.   
    

Our world today is riddled with fear and violence.  Our world and the people who walk upon it are in desperate need of healing and peace.  Long before Greek word Ecclesia was used in the New Testament, the Hebrew word Edah was used to described the ancient Jewish understanding of church.  Far different from our definition of church today, Edah described the whole body of humanity acting as a living witness to the liberating work of the divine in the world.  Not divided, not isolated, but together in unity, humanity is called to bear witness to God’s work of liberation and healing.  Love wins... (dot, dot, dot).  Church, our name is Edah, we are the ellipses, and we are called to be active participants of Divine love.
    

May you hear God call you name and may this calling give you a sure and certain identity as a child of God.  May this calling give you a voice to speak on behalf of those without a voice.  And when you hear God call your name, may you be reminded that love wins…

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