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Creekside Church
Sermon of June 24,
2001
"High the
Cost of Healing"
Luke
8:26-39
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Rev. David
Bibbee
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I can
still picture him, though it has been at least 40 years
since I last saw him. His name was Chuck Clendennon, a short
man who walked with a spring in his step and who wore a
long-billed ball cap that made him look like Ernest T. Bass
on the Andy Griffith Show. Chuck never went anywhere without
his wheel. I didn't say wheels, as on a car. Chuck spent
hours each day on the sidewalks pushing his bicycle wheel
with a broom handle which my best friend's father had specially
designed for him. He got a kick out of chasing people with
it. It was all in fun. Chuck wouldn't hurt a fly. He just
loved the reactions he got from others. Back in the 1950's
people like Chuck were called insane or retarded. Chuck
was in his 40's and had the cognitive capacity of a five-year-old.
For
years my Grandma Bibbee cleaned Dr. Burton's office on Saturday
mornings, and occasionally we would take her home. The last
thing she did was sweep the office sidewalk. One Saturday
as we waited in the car and Grandma swept, my Dad said,
"Oh boy, here comes Chuck!" We were in for something
interesting. He didn't chase Grandma with the wheel. Instead
he tried to pinch her bottom. My very modest, proper grandma
was not amused
or at least not as amused as we were
watching from the car. Grandma went after him with the broom.
No harm was done. Later I learned that this run-in had happened
before. In fact it became choreographed into a ritual which
they played out several Saturdays each year.
I still
laugh at the memory, but looking back it is sad to think
about Chuck and those like him. He was kept on the fringe
so the rest of us, when we felt insecure or down on ourselves,
could look at him and think, "Thank God I'm not like
that!" or be assured that we were normal, rational
people who were in control of our faculties.
Today's
text finds Jesus getting off a boat at a place called Gerasenes.
This was not a hospitable place for a Jew. It was Gentile
territory. Everything about it was unclean; pig farms everywhere,
Bob Evans restaurants, the place from which a Jew would
shake the dust off their feet. No sooner had Jesus stepped
on dry land than he was confronted by a man in his "wrong
mind". He looked intimidating. There were shackles
around his wrists and ankles from previous attempts to subdue
him with chains. He was naked and totally deranged. He lived
in the graveyard and his neighbors resided in the tombs.
In a
matter-of-fact way, Luke says the man was possessed by demons.
Contemporary, enlightened folks like us get squeamish at
the thought of demon possession. It conjures up images from
The Exorcist. What they called demons we call schizophrenia,
post-traumatic stress syndrome or improper toilet training.
I don't want to get bogged down with demons, but let it
suffice to say that they represent dark, evil, oppressive
forces at work in people's lives which keep them from being
fully alive. Without belaboring the point I would simply
ask, "Is there anyone here who can point to something
inside which casts a shadow over your capacity to live what
Jesus called the abundant life? Is there anyone here who,
if they had the power, would not rid themselves of dark
thoughts, feelings, and behaviors?" I didn't think
so. There are times when the word "demon" strikes
us as the right word.
This
broken, possessed man fell at Jesus' feet and screamed,
"What do you want with me, Jesus?" Then Jesus
asked his name. He said his name was "Legion."
There was a Roman legion of demons in him begging Jesus,
"Leave us alone!" When confronted by the presence
of the living God, things change
something has to give.
In his spiritual classic, A Testament Of Devotion, the Quaker
Thomas Kelly said:
It is
an overwhelming experience to fall into the hands of the
living God
to be invaded to the depths of one's being
to
be blown away by a tempest of unbelievable power which leaves
one's proud self utterly, utterly defenseless.
The
demons knew they were utterly defenseless. Jesus is unrelenting
with forces which oppress. Knowing they would soon leave
their host, the demons begged Jesus to let them take up
residence in a herd of pigs foraging nearby. Jesus granted
their request. When they entered the swine, the herd stampeded
over a cliff and drowned at sea.
Those
who witnessed it rushed to tell others. When they returned
they were shocked to find the "formerly" possessed
man sitting at Jesus' feet
quiet, calm, clothed and
in his right mind. Were the people thrilled by the miracle
of a restored life? Hardly. They instead began assessing
the damage Jesus had done. The pork producers started calculating
their losses. Stock in Bob Evans plummeted. There was more
concern for lost revenue than joy over a restored life.
The forces of darkness were not confined to one man, but
pervaded the whole community.
In Acts
16, Paul and Barnabas cast a demon from a slave girl whose
owners made money off her as a carnival act. Her owners
had Paul and Barnabas beaten and thrown into prison for
ruining their economic livelihood. In Acts 19, the silversmith's
union that made shrines of the goddess Artemis wanted something
done about the Christians who said Artemis wasn't a god
and were causing sales to plummet. Healing is okay as long
as it doesn't cause a slump in business. Certain interests
would just as soon not want people to be better.
People
who often wrestle with addictions sometimes call them demons.
Addiction is a slave master that takes many forms
drugs,
alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, food, sex, work, and even
religion. Do companies that produce addictive substances
ever say, "We want you to quit using our product."?
Have you seen the commercial which shows big freight helicopters
unloading tons of food in Kosovo? The narrator says that
Phillip Morris is doing its part to alleviate the suffering
of people in that war ravaged land. The Phillip Morris Tobacco
Company also owns Kraft Foods, and as the freight door of
one helicopter opens, a pretty female company representative
says, "I've come with food from Phillip Morris."
In my version of the commercial she would say, "I've
come with food from Phillip Morris
the same company
that brings you lung cancer and emphazema."
When
Jesus healed people, not everyone was happy. Families and
communities had to change the ways they related to those
that Jesus and the disciples restored to health and sanity.
Saint
Francis of Assisi was born into a noble Italian family.
His father was a wealthy textile merchant who wanted his
son to follow in his footsteps, but instead Francis chose
to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. He took Jesus at his
word, gave his possessions to the poor and vowed to live
a life of poverty. His father was not pleased that Francis
was going into the ministry. He was so dospleased he disowned
Francis, and in turn, Francis gave his last possession to
his father
the clothes he wore. In the church at Assisi,
there is a fresco depicting the scene. Francis stands naked
with his eyes to heaven. On one side the angry father holds
Francis' clothes. The Archbishop stands on the other side,
hurriedly covering Francis' body with his cloak, and bearing
an expression that seems to say, "I know Jesus says
we must give to the poor, but you don't have to take him
so literally." The people of Assisi weren't prepared
for Francis' change of life, and the citizens of Gerasenes
weren't prepared for the possessed man to be restored to
sanity.
Had
you been there, where would your sympathies lie? With the
restored man, or those doing a cost-benefits analysis? Would
you beg Jesus to stay, saying, "Do for us what you
did for him. Restore our minds. Forgive our sins. Heal us
of our need to push those we fear and don't understand to
the fringes." Or would you join the meeting at the
Chamber of Commerce lending your voice to those saying,
"We're glad our friend is better, but we lost a lot
of hams as a result. If it costs this much to heal one person,
we'll go bankrupt if Jesus heals many more." They took
a vote. It was unanimous. Jesus had to leave. And Jesus
did as they asked. He will leave us if we want. He will
allow us to grope in the dark if we choose.
Someone
observed the significance of the demon's request to go into
the swine and then fall into the sea. The sea was an abyss.
It was a place that harbored dark, powerful, primordial
evil forces. It was the final hideout from Jesus' power.
But as the story previous to this one shows, Jesus had power
over storms at sea. Caught in the fury of a storm, Jesus
commanded the winds and the waves to subside. There are
echoes here from Psalm 139
"Oh where shall I flee
from your presence? If I dwell in the uttermost parts of
the sea, even there your hand shall hold me." There
is no final refuge from Jesus' power.
Jesus
honored the order to leave, but not before leaving a part
of himself. The man possessed by demons was now possessed
by love and gratitude for Jesus and the desire to be a disciple.
Luke says he begged to go with Jesus. It was a reasonable
request. After all, Jesus said to many people, "Follow
me." But Jesus wouldn't let him. Instead, he made him
the first missionary to the Gentiles. "Go home, not
to the tombs, but among the people who feared you and chained
you and saw you naked and out of your mind. Go back and
live among them and declare how much God has done for you."
The
man they had feared and hated was now their hope. We don't
know if they responded or not. What matters at the end of
the day is how we respond.
[This
is the end of the sermon transcript.]
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