Some Thoughts on the First Sunday after the Gerasene Demoniac

Some Thoughts on the First Sunday after the Gerasene Demoniac

A couple of words of explanation are due anyone who chooses to read this reflection on the experiences of this day, 30 June 2019, The Third Sunday after Pentecost. The first is that last Sunday’s Gospel, Saint Luke 8::26-29, is the account of Jesus’ healing the so-called “Gerasene Demoniac” a man possessed by demons who is healed by Jesus. The second is that this morning at Saint Mark’s Church in Berkeley, the liturgy was interrupted in its entirety by a very troubled young woman. These thoughts are a way of my coming to grips with the experience she provided for us this morning and understanding it in the light of the Gospel reading for the Sunday prior. 

When I say the word “Gospel” in my preaching or in casual conversation, it strikes me as a gentle thing – the “good news”. And we and I tend to think on Jesus’ actions in the Gospels as being gentle, restrained, kind – except when they are not such as the cleansing of the Temple, or his words to the disciples when he was interrupted by his family. The Gospel, in truth, can be tough. Knowing its insights and living them can be almost disturbing.

The connections of the young woman this morning, and last Sunday’s Gospel are remarkable. Her first interruption came after the sermon as she stood resolutely at the baptismal font and made a demand for water. The reaction was quick – here is a bottle of water, here is a cup of water. But no, she wanted water. The priest understood, I think, she wanted baptism. Later she would demand bread and wine. The pulse and pace of the liturgy were too much for her as her needs were immediate. More about that later, however. Here was a troubled person. It would be unkind and unfair to call her “the demoniac” (we don’t think in those terms these days) but the behaviors and demands bore a resemblance. “Call me by my name,” she shouted several times. She doubted the authenticity of the priest, and the church itself. It was a stand-off. What would Jesus do?

This is where I felt as though I had stepped out of my body and was viewing the situation well apart from the action, and wondering what the Gospel, or the liturgy had to do with all that was going on. Some sat in their pews, waiting for normalcy to return. Others gathered with the young woman at the font, attempting to comfort her and to meet her needs. Others looked at the situation for what it was – a troubled person who certainly needed bread and wine and water and yet more than that. She needed help and healing. The question was one of how to intervene.

My focus kept being drawn in so many directions. The liturgy, especially the Eucharistic Prayer demanding my attention, the police at the door waiting to be of service, a visiting priest calming and praying with the young woman, the medical doctor observing the melt-down of a personality and wanting to get her aid, the visiting organist wondering what to do, the woman holding the hands of the young woman, those gathered with her at the font, and those sitting in the pews, the other priests in attendance standing by, just in case.

For me the question was one of meeting her needs both spiritual and physical/mental. She was wanting an immediacy that could not be afforded her. The quiet of Jesus’ healing seemed to be missing here. It wasn’t quiet. It was angry, demanding, soul-wrenching, and loud. It was a demand for attention, as she stood at the altar, now, banging her hands on the mensa. What would Jesus have done? Demanding and riveting her attention was not possible. Perhaps it was in the hands of the visiting priest, and the other woman at the font who comforted, allowing time to pass so that physical aid could be given. The spiritual aid seemed vapid and ineffectual, and yet I wonder. 

Perhaps this was a visit by an angel, or better yet the Holy Spirit, demanding that we understand ourselves and what we could offer and how we could aid. A mighty wind had blown into the nave and chancel of Saint Mark’s Church. Next Sunday I will gather with others from St. Mark’s to see what lessons were learned, how Christ may have been served, and what will again be demanded of us. The young woman was taken away and is now, I hope, receiving the help that she so desperately needs. The question, however, still remains, "Where will we go from here?" In the prior Sunday's Gospel Jesus asks the name of the man/demon, and he replies, "My name is legion." Legion indeed, so many people needing aid and healing in our society. We cannot sit idly by.

Homily on the Second Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 7, 23 June 2019

“Enemies”

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 7

23 June 2019

Trinity+St. Peter’s Episcopal Church

San Francisco, California

I Kings 19:1-15a

Psalm 42/43

Galatians 3:23-29

St. Luke 8:16-39

INI

It has been a while since I have stood in this place and expounded on the Scriptures to you – and you’ve grown and merged in the meanwhile, so to some of you I am a stranger. First of all, it is an honor to be here, especially since on this day I celebrate the 48^thanniversary of my ordination. It was here, amongst you, however, that I made life-changing decisions about moving from the Lutheran Church to the Episcopal Church. I have so many to thank, but in this regard hold David Forbes, Evan Ardley, Bishop Otis Charles, and James Tramel for their encouragement to me. It is a transition that I welcomed and am grateful for. 

Secondly, one of the things that helps a preacher preach is that intimate knowledge that he or she has of those who will be listening to his wrestling with the word. Too much time has passed for me to know what your issues are, how you are thinking now, and what future visions you might have. So I will leap into the readings seeing what I find. It will be your judgment as to whether or not my gleanings are helpful to your journey. I think that it is time for a prayer to the Holy Spirit that she guide both preacher and congregation in this endeavor.

The title for this sermon is “Enemies”. Let me say at the outset that I have chosen this title because that is what we have all become at this period of time in our country. As I reencounter old classmates from boarding school, college, and seminary, I discover that we are set against each other on so many issues. Some of that is the work of elements in our society who profit from our quarrels. Some of it is the economics of our time, and a great deal of it is an attitude of blame toward others that seems to infect all of us. The readings have a sense of enemy as well – Ahab and Jezebel against Elijah, Jesus against the demons, the possessed man against the demons, and the people who find Jesus’ healing of the man fearsome and difficult. So then the question becomes, “Who are our, yours, mine, enemies?

I could not escape this particular take on these readings because as I read them, I realized that I have often taken the stance of the righteous man against the others. It’s not a healthy position. I can remember in the early struggles in the Church regarding women, and then regarding LGBTQ people, that I saw myself on the right side. And I was. Unfortunately, that realization is accompanied by a characterization of all others as being wrong. The difficulty with that is that conversation, words, communication all stop in the face of such an attitude.

Prior to the first reading Elijah sets up a contest between the Ba’alim – the gods of Canaan and Phoenicia (the gods of Jezebel) and YHWH. When YHWH wins the contest, Elijah then goes on to slaughter the priests of the Ba’alim. So much for ecumenism. We might give Elijah an out for serving the “true God”, however the conversation between the religions of the Levant and Yahwism, and Persia and Yahwism would go on, each influencing the other. The growth was in the conversation.

Luke relates the story of the man possessed by demons for a variety of reasons. He wants us to see Jesus operating in the territory of the enemy. The Gerasenes are not Jews and do not honor the traditions of the Jews. Witness the herd of pigs that are present in the story – First clue that this is not a Jewish story. Luke wants us to see Jesus’ appeal even in a foreign situation, with a foreign people. And what does Jesus come to do with them – healing.

We might be put off a bit when Jesus refuses the man’s request to follow him. Jesus sends him back to his own community not because he is not welcome in the Jesus Community, but because that community including him is welcomed into the larger community that wants to follow Jesus. 

Luke would be alarmed at how we treat the stranger and the foreigner. He would be railing at the atrocities at our southern border. We need to have our minds challenged about who our fellow travelers are. Here, in this story, it is the foreigner, the mentally ill, the dispossessed. Yesterday I had lunch with cousins, newly met. We are second cousins, related through my Großmama Hiller’s family. As we got to know one another we shared what we do in life. Kokyo said to me, “You come from a long line of Lutheran clergy, don’t you?” That is indeed true, and I related how my husband Arthur always talks about this as the “family racket.” My sister Bonnie corrected the situation. “It’s the family business!” She replied. There was a silence and then Kokyo said, “I’m a Buddhist priest.” Another silence and then all of us muttered, “The family business.”

The questions that Christians and other religious people need to ask is, “What are our connections?” The question that Americans of all political stripes need to ask is “What are our connections?” The question that Christians of the various denominations need to ask is “What are our connections?” What is our common vision of God?

In the first reading Elijah, running away from the wrath of his enemies Ahab and Jezebel, goes up to the mountain, Sinai. Surely God would be there. And he waits. There is a great wind, but no God. There is an earthquake, but no God. There was a fire (are you recognizing Pentecost in this) but no God. Finally, there was the sound of sheer silence.

We complain in our time that God is silent. God seems to be silent in the face of evil and difficult times. Perhaps we are being called to profoundly listen to the silence, for I believe in the silence there is an answer that comes to us as we listen deeply and boldly. Perhaps we need to have the words of Paul break into our meditative silence and remind us that there is no longer Jew, or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female. What might we add to that list of potential enemies? He says that we are, all of us, heirs according to the promise – the promise given Abraham. 

Let me tell you a story. When I was in Seminary there was a fight between the right and left in the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod. The majority of the faculty at the seminary was against a few conservatives who were making life quite difficult for all of us. One day at the community mass, I was sitting next to my Hebrew professor, and in this liturgy, prior to the passing of the peace the celebrant would quote Jesus. “If when you are offering your gift, you suddenly remember that you have a grievance with your brother, leave your gift where it is, make peace with your brother, and then offer your gift.” We all passed the peace, and my professor, after offering the peace, left the chapel. Later I sought him out. “Why did you leave?” I asked. He said, “I had to go make peace with another professor. I could not receive the Eucharist until I did.” It is a lesson that I have never forgotten. I bequeath it to you as well.

SDG