Grace to you and peace from God our Father, from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This text makes me want to ask questions I would rather not ask:

- What is this business of demon possession, especially a host of demons; and are we supposed to believe that such is possible in a day of science and reason?

- If we take the text at its word, knowing that first century thought considers the name of a thing part of having power over it, then what sort of stupid demon is this that reveals its name to Jesus, thereby granting him some new measure of power?

- And, how is it that a gracious God permits what is in effect the slaughter of thousands of God's creatures—even if they are pigs?

Now, I know that such questions are not mine alone, because I went to the "A Place at the Table" group on Wednesday for help with this text and ran into some of them there.

I teach regularly that there are only four questions that may properly be asked of scripture, which I believe is written in order to teach us about the God who is love:

- How am I to love God?

- How am I to love myself?

- How am I to love others?

- How am I to love all of creation?

The bottom line on those initial troubling questions, for me, is that they don't help us understand God's intentions for our lives, so the answers (and I do have a few) are irrelevant. For now, I'm going to leave further reflection on them to you, should you choose to move beyond the four I suggest about loving.

What appeals to me here is the restoration of this man, who was mentally ill or possessed by demons, to his community. It strikes me, primarily and most helpfully, as a story of liberation—along with some interesting insights into what liberation does to those who hang about where it happens.

A man suffers from what we might label mental illness. He is an outcast, living as if dead, separated from the living. Jesus, in his characteristic fashion, approaches the one society considers unapproachable and liberates him from the demons that possess him. But there is more to this liberation. In this story of exorcism, there is a name that implies more than its surface meaning.

Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" He said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. (v. 30)

In the parlance of the day, the word "Legion" did not merely refer to many; it had a specific referent—the Roman army. A Legion was a specifically-composed group of soldiers numbering between 4,500 and 6,000.

There may well be here a suggestion that the liberation that Jesus offers goes beyond a mere exorcism. There is also a recognition of the political bondage that afflicts the people of Israel. This is supported by the fact that the demons depart into swine. Admittedly, Jesus has moved to the gentile side of the Sea of Galilee; but the presence of pigs, an unclean animal to Jews, is evidence of the Roman army's—the Legion's—need for food.

Jesus comes as Liberator—freeing this man and seeking to free us from the obstacles that stand in the way of our living abundant, productive, fulfilling lives in community.

Those who witnessed what happened easily recognized the change:

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. (v. 35)

The one who for years had haunted the cemetery naked is now clothed and in his right mind. And the people were afraid.

So why were they afraid when they saw the change?

Perhaps it wasn't that they were afraid of the man, but of the change itself. "They seemed to be scared of Jesus simply because he put the man back in his right mind.

"Come to think of it, that is pretty scary. If Jesus put too many people back in our right minds, some frightening things could happen. Legislation might pass to give every worker a living wage in this country, and CEOs might lose some of their salary. Gay and lesbian people might be included in the full life of (every congregation)...Parents might take off work earlier to spend more time at home, and all Americans might have to rethink our work ethic."

Just imagine what might happen if Jesus went around putting people in their right minds. "Apparently, the crowd gathered that day didn't want any part of that. They'd rather have had a frightening naked man running around in chains shouting at the top of his lungs than a clothed, sane guy committed to going the way of Jesus Christ. So they ran Jesus off..." (Dawn Weaks, "This Weaks' Hermeneutic")

The freedom that comes from being healed by Jesus can be a scary thing to those who don't know it. Many "are willing to trade the freedom to grow and change for the security of knowing that things will be like they have always been." (Herbert Anderson, "The Family and Pastoral Care"). Beware if you meet Jesus; things just may begin to change when your heart, soul, and mind are freed.

Even the end of the story speaks of liberation:

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. (vv. 37-39)

The one who is freed is also restored to community. Despite his fear that those who have thought of him only as a man possessed will not accept him or his message, at Jesus' behest he goes home, perhaps even to his family, and proclaims the good news of his liberation.

And this liberation has an interesting burden attached. The man is ready to follow Jesus—to go with him into the boat and leave his home country. He even begs to go along. But in this case, following Jesus doesn't mean being at his side. Though on occasion we hear our Lord invite disciples with the words, "Come, follow me," here he invites apostleship. This healed man becomes not a disciple—a follower, but an apostle—one who is sent. And the place of his ministry is to be his home.

Here too is a word of caution, as well as a commission for us. When Jesus frees us, he also calls us. We are freed from the obstacles that keep us closed in on ourselves and we are also freed for our mission in the world—to proclaim to those we know just how much Jesus has done for us.

This one who was dead lives again, free and focused. He is liberated by Jesus from every obstacle—restored to his right mind, his friends, his home, and even provided a mission for this new life. So too are we.

There is one more point I'd like to make before I close. It is an intriguing idea that this story may be read as an allegory of Jesus' life—a life focused on liberation.

Jesus arrives at the "far country"—far from his heavenly home. As he begins his ministry ("steps out on land") he meets with conflict straightaway. Those who confront him are exiles from their true home. They find themselves unclean—defiled by [and captives of] death as Israel is defiled by [and is captive of] gentile rule. And daily they have an impossible choice: confront Rome, and find that their shackles are fastened more tightly or that they are "driven into the wilds"; or allow the Romans to possess them, and lose their identity. Jesus faces the question of identity head on: "What is your name?" The man has lost his identity; he says, "My name is Rome."

Drastic action is needed. Jesus delivers the people. The transformation is terrifying. Less fascinated by the sane and clothed state of the man, the people are horrified by the costs and consequences of the salvation Jesus brings...The last scene of the story anticipates the last scene of the Gospel; just as later the disciples are "continually in the Temple, blessing God," so here the former demoniac proclaims throughout the city how much Jesus has done for him...

On the other side of the lake a great drama is played out that mirrors, parodies and mimics the drama being played out in Israel...But there is one key difference. On the far side of the lake, in Gerasa, many die [the swine] so that one man can be saved. On this side of the lake, in Jerusalem, it is the other way round; one man is to die so that many can be saved. (Samuel Wells, Christian Century, 6/15/04, p. 18)

I thought that was kind of fun.

Jesus comes among us to save—to liberate. Are we ready for what that liberation brings?

Our Lord wants us to be healed of all that separates us from ourselves and from our community. Our Lord wants us to know our names! Our Lord wants us to know by what and by whom we are rightly possessed!

Our Lord offers to free us from all obstacles in order that we may be freed for mission in the world. I pray that I and we are able to see beyond the fear that this mission brings and be faithful.

I also hope that my reflections on this text may have helped a bit to liberate us from those troublesome questions with which I began.  —   Amen.