It was a sunny Saturday afternoon in southern California when the phone rang. One of my colleagues, a woman close to my age, was on the other end and she was in a panic. Having gone to the church that morning to get some work done she was alone inside the building. And now a strange man was pacing the patio, peering into the windows of the church office.

Since we lived so close to the church at the time, I sent my husband up the street to have a look. When he arrived, the foreboding man made a bee-line for him. Without a moment.s hesitation, this stranger laid into Jeff with a series of questions: Who had given his orders? And why was he encroaching on the grounds?

The stranger felt certain that Jeff worked for Ho Chi Minh. The silhouette of a dog on Jeff's t-shirt provided sufficient proof, what with all the dogs that Ho Chi Minh had already tortured. The stranger became increasingly agitated, beligerant even — until Jeff reassured him that his real purpose was to secure the perimeter of the compound (aka the church parking lot). The man backed off a bit and the two discussed their mutual mission until the police showed up. Already familiar with the demons that were driving the man, the officers arrived knowing just what to do.

Our gospel reading for today describes an even more intense encounter between Jesus and another man who is tormented by demons. Jesus and the disciples have just docked their boat in the Gerasenes. After enduring a wild and stormy ride, they are all ready for a rest. But a local man — one who dwells in some sort of alternate reality — approaches them immediately. Falling at Jesus' feet, this one who wears no clothes and makes his bed in a cemetery is pleading with Jesus. He is begging Jesus not to torment him.

Jesus responds by addressing the man and his demons. Jesus asks his name. Jesus gives the demons permission to enter a herd of swine. And then, the demons that have thus far dominated this man.s life depart. A herd of swine stampedes down a hillside, drowning in the waters below and, the next thing we know, the previously demon-driven man is dwelling comfortably at the feet of Jesus. This man whose behavior could not be controlled by metal chains or armed guards is now reasonably clothed and calm. Jesus has stilled the storm that was raging within the man.

It seems like this sort of healing ought to be worthy of a collective, "Thanks be to God!" from the people who witness it first hand. But our gospel story doesn't end there with a simple "Amen". No sooner is the demon-driven man back in his right mind than everyone else is out of theirs. The people of the Gerasenes send Jesus away before he can unleash his power on anyone else, for they are afraid.

What is it behind the people's fear? Perhaps they are concerned about the cost of healing. Farmers are likely afraid that they will lose more herds — that their sources of livelihood will disappear. Some of the people may simply be wary of change. After all, the reality to which they had grown accustomed, however bizarre, had been turned upside down. Or, perhaps the people are worried that this Jesus will have his way with them as well. Perhaps, deep down, they realize that demons drive them, too.

Whatever happens to be fueling people's fears, clearly, the power of Jesus' presence is too much for them at this moment. And sometimes the power of Jesus' presence is too much for us.

I remember another afternoon, years ago, when a co-worker of mine came charging into my office, begging me to help chase down a parishioner who was on her way out the door. The parishioner was fuming about the planned renovation of the church sanctuary. The expected changes were months away. Still, the mere mention of a new carpet color had been enough to rouse this faithful, long-time church member. My co-worker was worried the woman would either have a heart attack or else cause a car wreck if she headed home before calming down.

And so, together, we invited the woman back inside and offered her a glass of water. As we sat and sipped, she talked and we listened. And, before long, it became clear: the demon driving the distaught parishioner was her unresolved grief. In her head, this woman knew that moving a couple of pews and laying new carpet would ultimately enhance the mission of the church. Yet, in her heart, she was afraid to allow such changes. Embracing those changes would mean that she was consenting to some other big changes that were taking place in her own life. In the end, the little changes this woman was so bent on fighting opened her heart and enabled her to begin to heal.

Sometimes you and I are seized with fear. We may be terrified of change. We may dread the unknown of tomorrow. We may even be afraid to part with the demons that drive us, demons like grief and insecurity, prejudice and pride. For as much as demons like these may disrupt our daily lives, the thought of life without them can seem even more disruptive.

Sometimes the power of Jesus' presence is too much for us. And yet, that doesn't keep Jesus from coming to us. Despite our fear, despite our free-floating anxiety, Jesus comes. Despite our being overwhelmed by the idea of change, Jesus comes. Despite our resisting, Jesus comes.

Jesus comes in an unexpected arm around the shoulder. Jesus comes in shared experiences that lead to shared tears. Jesus comes in bread and wine. Jesus comes in water and word. In ways we cannot understand, Jesus heals us. Using means that make no sense, Jesus makes us whole.

In the waters of baptism we were clothed in grace and embraced by love. At the font our Lord has already drowned the demons that would drive us to self-destruct. Those demons no longer get the privilege of having the final say in our lives. God has claimed that privilege. God's word is the final word in our lives. God's word is hope. God's word makes us whole just as God's word made the man in our gospel whole.

You'll notice that after this man in our gospel is healed, he begs Jesus to allow him to get into the boat. He wants to sail away from his past, start his life anew in another place. It turns out Jesus has other plans for the newly healed man. Instead of welcoming him into the boat, Jesus sends him back to the city. Jesus tells him to reach out to the people in that place. Jesus tells him to share his story with other Gentiles. Jesus wants this newly clothed man to return to his home, to live in that place as a sign of the healing and hope that God brings.

Today God's word sends us out to tell the world how we.ve been touched by the power of Jesus. As we share that good news, may our lives and the lives of many others be made whole in Jesus' name. Amen.