Go
Jesus and his followers went to the other side of the lake to the area
of the Gerasene people. When Jesus got out of the boat, instantly a man with an
evil spirit came to him from the burial caves. This man lived in the caves, and
no one could tie him up, not even with a chain. Many times people had used
chains to tie the man's hands and feet, but he always broke them off. No one
was strong enough to control him. Day and night he would wander around the
burial caves and on the hills, screaming and cutting himself with stones. While
Jesus was still far away, the man saw him, ran to him, and fell down before
him.
The man shouted in a loud voice, "What do you want with me, Jesus,
Son of the Most High God? I command you in God's name not to torture me!"
He said this because Jesus was saying to him, "You evil spirit, come out
of the man."
Then Jesus asked him, "What is your name?" He answered,
"My name is Legion, because we are many spirits." He begged Jesus
again and again not to send them out of that area. A large herd of pigs was
feeding on a hill near there. The demons begged Jesus, "Send us into the
pigs; let us go into them." So Jesus allowed them to do this. The evil
spirits left the man and went into the pigs. Then the herd of pigs – about two
thousand of them — rushed down the hill into the lake and were drowned.
The herdsmen ran away and went to the town and to the countryside, telling
everyone about this. So people went out to see what had happened. They came to
Jesus and saw the man who used to have the many evil spirits, sitting, clothed,
and in his right mind. And they were frightened. The people who saw this told
the others what had happened to the man who had the demons living in him, and
they told about the pigs. Then the people began to beg Jesus to leave their
area.
As Jesus was getting back into the boat, the man who was freed from the
demons begged to go with him. But Jesus would not let him. He said, "Go
home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and how he
has had mercy on you." So the man left and began to tell the people in the
Ten Towns about what Jesus had done for him and everyone was amazed. (Mark
5:1-20)
Here’s a trivia
question: Who was the first missionary Jesus ever sent? Someone well trained, perhaps?
You know . . . someone who had an intimate relationship with Christ; a devoted
follower; a close disciple; a thorough knowledge of Scripture and sacrifice.
Right? Wrong. Here’s a hint: to find this guy, you don't have to go to the
Great Commission. He’s not even on the short list of apostles, or one of the seventy-two
disciples sent out by Jesus. The epistles, then? No. Long before Paul picked up
a pen, this preacher was already at work. Okay, so where did Jesus go to find
his first missionary? A cemetery. And who was the first ambassador he
commissioned? A raging lunatic. The man Jesus sent out was a madman turned
missionary.
“When Jesus got
out of the boat, instantly a man with an evil spirit came to him from the
burial caves. This man lived in the caves, and no one could tie him up, not
even with a chain. Many times people had used chains to tie the man's hands and
feet, but he always broke them off. No one was strong enough to control him.
Day and night he would wander around the burial caves and on the hills,
screaming and cutting himself with stones.” (Mark 5:2-5)
He's the man
your mother told you to avoid. He's the guy police put away on a §5150, i.e., a section of the California
Welfare and Institutions Code that allows an officer or clinician to involuntarily
confine a person, for up to 14 days, suspected of having a mental disorder that
makes him or her a danger to themselves, or to others. He's the deranged lunatic
who stalks neighborhoods and murders families. His fearsome face and behavior fills
television screens nationwide during the nightly news. And this guy is the
first missionary of the church. Terrific. Palestine didn't know what to do with
him. They tried to restrain him, but he broke the chains. He ripped off his
clothes. He lived in caves. He cut himself with rocks. He was a rabid dog on
the loose, a menace to society. He was absolutely no good to anyone. No one had
a place for him. Well, no one except Jesus, that is.
By today’s
standards, the best that modern medicine could offer a guy like that would be a
ton of psychotropic meds and years of psychotherapy. And maybe, with time, thousands
of dollars and a legion of professionals, his destructive behaviors could be kept
in check. But that would take years, and there’d be no guarantee of success. With
Jesus, it took seconds and the man was permanently healed.
The encounter at
the lakeshore was probably pretty explosive. The disciples' boat had just beached
by a graveyard and a nearby herd of pigs. The disciples are exhausted from the
previous nights’ events – when they’d almost lost their lives until Jesus
calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee. Now they’re in Gentile country where
graveyards and pigs are ritually and culturally unclean for Jews. So you can
imagine their astonishment when they’re met by a crazy man sprinting toward
them from the graveyard. Wild hair; bloody wrists; arms flailing and voice
screaming; naked bedlam. The apostles gawk, then they gulp, and then they put one
foot back into the boat. They’re horrified. But Jesus isn't. And the next few verses
provide a glimpse into unseen warfare where, for just a moment, the invisible
conflict becomes visible, and we, along with the disciples, are offered a
position overlooking the battlefield.
Jesus speaks
first: "You evil spirit, come out of the man." (v. 8) The spirit
panics: "What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?"
(v. 7) Jesus wants the man back, of course. And the demons muster absolutely no
challenge whatsoever. They don’t even offer a threat. They've heard this voice
before, and when God demands, the demons have only one response: they plead. So,
they "begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of that area."
(v. 10)
Jesus' mere
appearance humbled the demons. Though they had dominated this man, they cower
before God. Though they had laced an entire region with fear, they now beg for
mercy. Jesus’ words reduce them to sniveling, groveling weaklings. So, feeling
safer in a herd of pigs than in the presence of God, the demons ask to be sent
into the swine. Jesus consents and two thousand demon-possessed pigs hurl
themselves into the sea and drown. All the while the disciples do absolutely nothing.
While Jesus fights, the followers stare because they don't know what else to
do.
Can you relate? Do
you watch a world out of control and don't know what to do? If so, do what the
disciples did: when the fighting gets fierce, stand back and let the Father
fight. Here’s what I mean.
In 1963, my
father and I were in the back of an ambulance racing the two of us, including
my unconscious mother, to the hospital. We’d just been involved in a head-on
collision with a VW Bug driven by a woman who’d crossed over a double-yellow
line as she turned to hand her kids some McDonald’s hamburgers over the back
seat. We were driving in my parents brand new car: a sea-foam green, Ford
Falcon. One minute I was coloring Lassie with a silver crayon; the next I was
slammed into the back of the front seat so hard that it broke my arm. Mom and
Dad weren’t quite as lucky. Mom was unconscious with a broken jaw, and Dad, among
other injuries, had a huge gash in his shin.
Aside from a 5
year-old’s excitement riding in the back of an ambulance racing through red
lights, I kept asking my Dad if Mom was alright. But as the seconds passed into
minutes, the excitement of going through red lights with sirens blaring was
wearing off. It was beginning to dawn on me that Mom was more than just asleep,
and that Dad was struggling to remain calm while wrestling with his pain and
the safety of his wife and kindergartner. I was beginning to wonder if we were
going to make it.
So there’s my
Dad – one hand on his wife and the other clutching his leg which had blown up
to gargantuan proportions. I was in front looking back. Toward him. Tears are
starting to fall. The race against time seems to worsen as the sirens scream.
I’m headed to a location I’ve never been, experiencing a degree of pain I’d
never felt, talking with my Dad whose voice doesn’t sound the same, and a
mother who’s not talking at all. I grab both sides of the railing and hang on.
For dear life.
Where’s
that hospital? It's buried by a blur of traffic. So, I look for my coloring
book . . . . Oh, it’s still in the smoldering Falcon. I look for something
familiar and all I see is paramedic stuff. Everything I see frightens me. There’s
only one reassuring sight – the face of my father. Pain-wrecked and grimacing,
he looks ahead with a steely stare. His shirt is stuck to his skin, and his
hands are stuck to his wife. And right then I made a decision. I quit looking
at the stop lights, the traffic, the medical supplies, my mother’s unconscious
face, and just watched my father. It just made sense. Watching everything
around me brought fear; watching my father brought calm. So I focused on Dad. So
intent was my gaze that five decades later I can still see him and hear him
say, “It’ll be alright, Tiger; Mom’s going to be okay.”
God wants us to
do the same. He wants us to focus our eyes on him. What good does it do to
focus on the storm? Why study the enemy? We won't defeat him. Only God will.
The disciples can't destroy Satan; only God can. And that's what Jesus did. As
the stunned disciples look on, Jesus goes into action and God delivers a
lunatic. Pigs are embodied by demons. And a disciple is made in a cemetery.
Outlandish
story? Hardly. You haven’t heard the half of it yet. Because if you think the reaction
of the demons is bizarre, just look at the response of the people who’d come to
see the train wreck in the graveyard: “The herdsmen ran away and went to the
town and to the countryside, telling everyone about this. So people went out to
see what had happened. They came to Jesus and saw the man who used to have the
many evil spirits, sitting, clothed, and in his right mind. And they were
frightened. The people who saw this told the others what had happened to the
man who had the demons living in him, and they told about the pigs. Then the
people began to beg Jesus to leave their area.” (Mark 5:15-17)
They did what? “The
people began to beg Jesus to leave the area.” You mean the people asked Jesus
to leave? Correct. Rather than thank him, they dismissed him? Yep. What would
cause the people to do that? Good question. What would cause people to prefer
pigs and lunatics over the presence of God? Better yet, what would cause an
addict to prefer stupor over sobriety? What would cause a church to prefer
slumber over revival? What would cause a nation to prefer slavery over freedom?
What would cause people to prefer yesterday's traditions over today's living
God? The answer? Fear. Fear of change.
Change is hard
work. It's easier to follow the same old path than to move out into uncharted
territory. And here it appears that the herdsmen didn’t know what had happened
to the lunatic; they only knew that their pigs tried to sprout wings and fly into
a lake. All 2,000 of them. Frightened, they go into town and tell others who
then, in turn, rush to the scene and see the crazy man they’d heard about now
seated, clothed and perfectly sane. They’re confused. So, they share their
story with the shepherds and, collectively, the townspeople conclude that
what’s just happened is sheer madness. As a result, the people beg Jesus to
leave because, apparently, he’s the crazy one. And since Jesus never goes where
he isn't invited, he steps back into the boat. But then watch what happens.
“As Jesus was
getting back into the boat, the man who was freed from the demons begged to go
with him. But Jesus would not let him.” (Mark 5:18) Kind of a strange way to
treat a new believer, don't you think? Why wouldn't Jesus take him along?
Simple. He had greater plans for him. "Go home to your family and tell
them how much the Lord has done for you and how he has had mercy on you."
(v. 19)
There it is. The
commissioning of the first missionary. One minute insane, the next in Christ.
No training. No teaching. No nothing. All he knew was that Jesus could scare
the hell out of hell and apparently that was enough. But even more surprising
than the man who was sent is the fact that anyone was sent at all. I mean, I
wouldn't have sent a missionary to a bunch of people who’d just given me the bum’s
rush. Would you? A plague maybe, but not a missionary. But Jesus did, and the
instructions to that first missionary were pretty simple: “Go home to your
family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and how he has had mercy
on you.”
Today, Jesus still
sends the message to the unworthy. And he still uses the unworthy as
messengers. After all, look who's reading this? Better yet, look who wrote it.
So, be a missionary.
Go. Tell your
story to people you know. It’s not that complicated.
Grace,
Randy
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