The (Extra)Ordinary Gospel
Luke 8:26–39
Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 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. 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” — 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.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss.
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. 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.
When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. 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. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. 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. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “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.
I first met Katie (not her real name) on a dark and cold morning in the fall of 2015. Our Common Ground, the hospitality space and community we help facilitate in North Everett had been open only a few days, and at that time many people still did not know we were there. So we didn’t have many people coming in compared to the 50+ people we would end up welcoming just a few months later.
I heard Katie before I ever saw her. She was in the hallway, and she was loudly yelling as she unpacked her bags and made a mess everywhere. Her clothes were tattered and her hair was a mess. She was having what we would come to find out was an episode brought on my numerous mental illnesses. But this day we did not know this. This day we simply encountered an angry, scared woman who was obviously struggling with things we could not see or understand.
To some of the church people who were present for this incident — people who belonged to the church that had graciously agreed to host Our Common Ground — this was almost too much. They were worried, not only about this incident, but about whether we were equipped to handle the reality of mental illness in our community.
We eventually got Katie calmed down, and she sat down with a cup of coffee. And the reality of what we were getting ourselves into began to set in. We opened Our Common Ground because we wanted to created a welcoming space where people like Katie could be accepted for who they were. But this incident left us wondering: Was the desire to welcome and love people like Jesus asked us to really enough in the face of the reality of mental illness? Could we really make a difference?
Katie’s story is not unique. There are thousands of people like Katie on the streets of our country, struggling to cope with poverty and life while also dealing with debilitating mental illness.
According to some recent studies, some 20–25% of people experiencing homelessness are affected by mental illness, compared to around 6% for the general population. It’s not hard to look at the epidemic of addiction and homelessness in Seattle and see how woven into this reality mental illness is.
Every time I read this story about the man living in the tombs and not in his right mind, I think of my countless friends who live on the street and are affected by mental illness. I think of my own struggles with depression and anxiety and how, while they are not as debilitating as many illnesses, can hit me out of the blue and greatly affect my life and work.
And like we asked ourselves after meeting Katie, the church also must ask itself: What is our role in this reality that we live in? What does it look like to be people of good news in light of this reality?
As I mentioned earlier, one of my hopes this season is to use my sermon time to wrestle with the tension of how we live out this extraordinary call to live out the gospel of God’s love and justice in our ordinary, everyday lives. And at first glance of our story, this seems like an odd place to begin. Because our story from Luke today is anything but ordinary. Yet, if we wade into the numerous layers, we might catch a glimpse of how we can better understand what it means to be a people of God in our world today.
Let us begin with one layer of this story. This story is probably familiar to many of us. Jesus and his disciples arrive in the country of the Gerasenes, and are immediately confronted by a man who was living in the tombs, who was widely understood to be possessed by demons. He was unable to live amongst people, and would flee to the wild at any opportunity.
Yet when he sees Jesus, he is drawn to him. He falls down before Jesus, recognized Jesus as the son of God, and begs Jesus not to torment him. Then Jesus asks the man his name, and he replies, Legion, for we are many. It is here that what was shaping up to be a simple healing story takes a dramatic turn. Because in this time and place, the term Legion had but one meaning. Specifically, it meant a unit of around 6,000 Roman soldiers. But in our story today, it is not hard to see it as a symbolism for the oppression of the Roman Empire. And we can see this story take on another level of social and political significance, with Jesus standing against the power and oppression of Rome.
Judith Jones points out another layer in this story: “Furthermore, the region of Gerasene is the setting of a horrifying historical event. According to Josephus, during the late 60s CE, toward the end of the Jewish revolt, the Roman general Vespasian sent soldiers to retake Gerasa (Jewish War, IV,ix,1). The Romans killed a thousand young men, imprisoned their families, burned the city, and then attacked villages throughout the region. Many of those buried in Gerasene tombs had been slaughtered by Roman legions.”
Considering the book of Luke was almost certainly written after this event, this makes the setting of the story in a physical place that would be a symbol of the violence and brutality of Roman oppression. The Jesus we see here is confronting this oppression, and showing us that to live as the people of God, we also but be willing to stand against oppressive systems and powers that be if we are to take seriously this gospel work.
This story of Jesus confronting the powers of the oppressive Roman empire and liberating this man from its grasp might make a powerful story, but it does leave us asking, what do we do? How should we live differently today because of this? While it is clear that we as the church also must recognize and stand against unjust empires and political systems, what might this look like in everyday life?
Let us take another look at this story, and we may glimpse some wisdom for how we can do this well. Because often the best way to oppose oppressive and dehumanizing systems and powers is to stand in solidarity with those who who are oppressed.
While I try to read bible stories with a suspension of disbelief — really listening to the story without bringing all of my modern ideas to the text — it is pretty hard to do with this story. Because Jesus encounters a man who seems to clearly be struggling with mental illness. Jest hearing his description brings to mind numerous of my friends on the street who, should things go south in their life, end up like this man.
Whatever it may be, it is clear that this man is not in his right mind, and that something in his body is causing him to be mentally unwell, and unable to live amongst the rest of the community.
If you have spent any time walking the streets of downtown Seattle, or any major city, you have likely seen this man. Yelling to no one in particular. Talking to himself. Causing a scene that both fills us with compassion, but also compels us to get away as fast as possible. Or maybe this man was not as loud and distracting, but still clearly in distress. Publicly struggling with inner demons while those passing by have no idea what to do in the face of such a public display of pain and suffering.
We have all likely encountered this man, and if you are like me, you have wondered: What can I do? And while this story does not lend itself to a nice, bullet point list, I think we can see a few answers to this question.
First, Jesus sees him. Jesus does not run away, even though he might have wanted to. When confronted with this man, Jesus sees him and engages him. This might seem like a simple thing, but to those struggling, I can tell you it is not.
I cannot tell you how many conversations I have had with people on the street — many of whom struggle with mental illness — who tell about entire days they have spent where they had NO positive interactions with people. People either ignored them, or were telling them to leave. No one really saw them. They were either the dirty homeless person, or invisible.
If we want to be people that live out the gospel in our everyday lives, let us look for people — people that have been pushed to the margins by our oppressive systems — and ask how we might truly see them. I believe that a core part of living out the gospel in our world is to look for those our society has pushed away, and ask how we can see them, know them, and walk alongside them. The more we are willing to truly see them, know them, and learn from them, the better we will be at standing against injustice.
And Jesus doesn’t just see this man, Jesus enters into his world. Jesus is willing to engage his illness and have a conversation with him that acknowledges what he is going through. It is so easy for us to dismiss people who are struggling with mental illness because we just don’t understand them.
There is a man who comes regularly to OCG — let’s call him Fred — and at first I just avoided him. Because I didn’t know what to do. Fred was always talking to himself, and would talk about this grand conspiracy theories that seemed to always be inside of his head. I would try and say hi, and shift the conversation away from whatever theory he was obsessed with at that time, but he would just brush me off.
Then one day, I realized how much my actions were really a quiet judgment on Fred. I was assuming that in order for me to really connect with him, and had to bring him into my world of quote unquote “normal” conversation. So the next time we was going on about one of his theories, I just listened. I asked questions. I entered into this world he had created for himself — a world that was just as real for him as my world was for me — and let myself meet him there.
Now, nothing magical happened that day. But I did feel some of the wall between us break down. And the more I was willing to enter into his world, the more Fred was willing to engage me, and the more I found myself connecting with this person in front of me.
When we encounter someone who we don’t understand, sometimes the best thing we can do is enter into their world. We serve a God who was willing to lay down divine power in order to enter into our humanity in the person of Jesus. One way we can live out the good news in our everyday life is to practice this with those around us, by hearing them. Truly listening to them. Believing that they are the best experts on their own lives even when we might believe something else is going on.
This does not mean that we drop everything when we encounter a person who is struggling — this is not practical, or safe, many times. Or that we try to take on the role of mental health professionals. But it does mean that as people of God, we must always ask — when we encounter another person — how can we see and honor their world, and their experience? How can we honor them in a world that pushes them to the margins?
Lastly, Jesus becomes part of the circle of care and compassion for this man living among the tombs.
Let us go back to Katie, the woman whose story I told at the beginning. About 6 months after meeting Kate, she disappeared. We didn’t see her for about a year and a half. Then one day a women come into the hospitality space and started talking with me. She was cleaning dressed, had short, nice hair, and was carrying on a conversation well.
When I asked her what her name was, she said, “Luke, it’s me, Katie.” I hadn’t even recognized her. We were able to talk some more, and shared with me about getting help for her mental illness. How she was able to find support from some family, some friends, a doctor, and others in the community. She even mentioned us, as we had been a place where should found some love and support on her journey.
Because she was able to find different circles of support, she was able to get the help she needed.
The idea of circles of care and compassion was coined Craig Rennebohm, a longtime Seattle pastor and the author of one of the most powerful books I have ever read, Souls in the Hands of a Tender God. In this book he walks us through his life and ministry of caring for people experiencing mental illness.
He talks about how all of us have circles of care and compassion around us; people who are willing to walk alongside of us and help us and be there for us. Family. Friends. Community. Doctors. Therapists. Social Workers. The list could go on. When we are struggling, the stronger circle we have around us, the better chance we will have of overcoming that struggle.
We as the church are not going to be able to help everyone who is struggling. But what if we were willing to become a part of people’s circles of care and compassion? What if we were able to be one of the anchors of support for people that need it. What a beautiful picture of the good news of God’s love and justice in our world.
As we go from here today, let us begin to practice how we might see people, encounter people where they are at, and ask how we might be one part of their circles of care and compassion in our world. And may God give us wisdom on this journey.
