Image Source |
February 1, 2015
Mark 1:21-28
21Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he
entered the synagogue and taught. 22They were astounded at his
teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 23Just
then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, 24and
he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to
destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” 25But Jesus
rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” 26And the
unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. 27They
were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new
teaching — with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey
him.” 28At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding
region of Galilee.
Sermon: A New Teaching
As far as early days on the
job go, Jesus wasn’t doing too shabby.
He’d been baptized by John his cousin, overcome temptation in the
wilderness, and then he’d scooped up some fishermen named Andrew, Simon (that’s
Peter), James and John to join his posse.
They waltzed into Capernaum and did what good Jewish boys did on the
Sabbath – went to a synagogue.
We know that Jesus had taught
in a synagogue at the age of 12. We
don’t know if he’d done it in the intervening 18 years since, but you can be
sure there was a wee bit of pressure at this the official start of his
ministry. The congregation would have
been about the size of ours – synagogues in those days weren’t usually like
Lakewood or Willow Creek megachurches.
They were family operations: 10 families = a synagogue. And a lot of them didn’t have rabbis. So a traveling rabbi coming to speak was a
pretty big deal.
Jesus got up to preach, and
he did it with authority – everyone present saw this man was remarkable. He might have covered the 10 commandments,
and the shema to love God with all your heart, mind and strength, and shared
some wisdom from Isaiah or Jeremiah. He
was probably feeling pretty good about things as he prepared to wind up that
there sermon with a nice, powerful ending.
But nothing is predictable when
the Son of God’s in town. And so a
possessed man started shouting! The
polite churchgoers fixed their eyes on Jesus more intently, while the more
curious of them turned and stared. “Oh,
it’s just him,” they thought. Poor
possessed Bob (we don’t have a name for him, so I’m calling him Bob.) Bob always shouted at about this point in the
service, but Jesus and his cronies were just visiting town, so they didn’t know
this. Usually it was some sort of inane
babble. But today, Bob was making sense!
“What have you to do with us,
Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to
destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy
One of God.”
The people who usually
snoozed during sermons (it happened in Jesus’ time too) woke up at this
point. “What did Bob say? Holy One of WHO?!”
Jesus wasn’t really
interested in a big revelation about who he was at that point – he wanted to be
taken seriously for what he said and did initially, and not just an impressive
title. And he certainly didn’t want
demons to be the ones revealing his true self so early in the game. “Hush!” he told those demons. “Leave Bob alone! In fact, leave him entirely.” Bob started jumping around and screaming and
even the polite people were staring at him now.
Suddenly Bob stopped moving, and looked at them all with eyes clearer
than they’d ever been. He was free.
Of course, casting out demons
did a lot more to prove who Jesus really was than anything those demons
could’ve said. And then we have the most
hilarious reaction in all of scripture:
“What is this? A new
teaching? Now, he has authority!” those churchgoers
(or synagoers perhaps) said. It might
have been the understatement of the decade.
A new teaching? Really? It’s not like he decided to use powerpoint or
put them in small discussion groups.
Jesus had just cast out demons!! The word they used means “doctrine.” Goodness, the man didn’t just write some
powerful words down – he freed Bob from demons!
Our text makes it sound like those who were there didn’t really
understand the magnitude of what Jesus had just done. Or maybe they understood it all too well.
Maybe Bob wasn’t the only one
who was possessed. Maybe demons aren’t
supernatural, external forces but the very real, earthly things that possess
all of us at times.
Maybe there was a husband who
struggled with feelings for someone other than his wife. Maybe there was a wife who kept her health
problem secret from everyone, even her spouse, because she was the caregiver
and didn’t want anyone taking care of her.
Maybe there was a teenager dealing with bullying from other kids. Maybe there was a little girl who felt
ignored, like she didn’t even matter.
Maybe every single person in that room was held captive in one way or
the other.
Perhaps that healing hit a
little too close to home – if Jesus could cast out the obvious demons – like
Bob’s – could he also cast out those that were hidden so very well with excuses
and politeness? Only the Holy One of God
could cast out those sort of demons.
Afraid to let anyone else see
their demons, those polite pew dwellers settled for the understatement of “a
new teaching” because I think they didn’t want to admit they needed an exorcism
just as much as Bob did. They needed
their lives ridded of unclean spirits.
So do we.
We might call those unclean
spirits self doubt or decade-old bitterness.
We might name them depression or anxiety or guilt. But we all have our demons. And Jesus, he didn’t just come for Bob. He came for everyone in that synagogue in
Capernaum. He came for us.
He came for all, and demons
be damned, he doesn’t give demons the sort of power we do. He names them, refusing for them to be hidden
away and fester. And he sees the human
beings behind the demons – us fragile children of God, sometimes functioning
very well, and sometimes not quite as well.
I’m not sure Jesus always
casts out demons in as dramatic a fashion as he did in Capernaum that day. Perhaps he casts out our demons over years of
talking with someone we trust, or slowly changing our patterns of behavior or
finally having the courage to be honest about how we’re really doing, or ask
for help when we need it. But he still
does what he did on one of his first days on the job – brings wholeness, to
Bobs, and to the rest of us.
Jan Richardson captures this
well in her poem titled Blessing for a Whole Heart.
You
think
if
you could just
imagine
it,
that
would be a beginning;
that
if you could envision
what
it would look like,
that
would be a step
toward
a heart
made
whole.
This
blessing
is
for when
you
cannot imagine.
This
is for when
it
is difficult to dream
of
what could lie beyond
the
fracture, the rupture,
the
cleaving through which
has
come a life
you
do not recognize
as
your own.
When
all that inhabits you
feels
foreign,
your
heart made strange
and
beating a broken
and
unfamiliar cadence,
let
there come
a
word of solace,
a
voice that speaks
into
the shattering,
reminding
you
that
who you are
is
here,
every
shard
somehow
holding
the
whole of you
that
you cannot see
but
is taking shape
even
now,
piece
joining to piece
in
an ancient,
remembered
rhythm
that
bears you
not
toward restoration,
not
toward return—
as
if you could somehow
become
unchanged—
but
steadily deeper
into
the heart of the one
who
has already dreamed you
complete.
Whatever demons you might be struggling with, however silently,
imagine the Holy One of God, Jesus Christ, who has already dreamed you
complete. And bit by bit, day by day,
trust him (and perhaps those beside you) to set you free.
Because Jesus didn’t really teach with words, though he used
them a lot. He taught through seeing the
people behind the demons and seeing the demons behind the systems of
oppression. It was a new teaching,
indeed. The very best lesson this world
could ever learn.
No comments:
Post a Comment