“Power of Longing”

Luke 8: 26-39

June 20, 2004

I had the best of summer jobs while I was in high school and college.

I was a lifeguard. I got to walk around with badges of authority: a

special suit, a whistle and a blow horn and a special spot to sit.

(Great training for ministry, don't you think?) Lifeguarding had about

it a certain sort of glamour.

And, a lot of responsibility. Never did I forget while I was on duty

that I was responsible for lives. There were a number of times when I

had to rescue swimmers who got in over their heads.

One of the most important things they teach lifeguards during training

is to be aware of the power of fear. When you swim out to someone who

is struggling to stay above the water, they will climb on anything -

including you - to keep from going under. They mean no malice. But you

are not a person at the point when terror is so huge. You are a

presence to be used, and those struggling to stay afloat will pull you

under and take you down in order to survive.

So lifeguards in training are given thorough instruction about how to

approach the fear bound in defensive ways.

We were taught to approach and rescue in such a way that we were

careful, and, we were taught the importance of being a comforting and

non anxious presence: talking, reassuring, encouraging, and giving hope

to those who were terrified of going under.

If we could help people to get beyond their fear. If we could encourage

them to trust us and relax into our help, we could be life savers

instead of casualties.

The only way we could be effective is if we knew very well that fear can

sometimes grip people so strongly that they may fight against the very

thing that can save them.

So it is in today's gospel lesson. So it is in our own lives.

This morning's gospel lesson is found in a trio of teachings that seek

to demonstrate the amazing healing power of Jesus. Just before coming

to the land of the Geresenes, Jesus has calmed the chaos of a storm by

simply speaking. As he steps onto land, he is greeted with a man

possessed by demons.

This man was so profoundly unclean in his culture. He lived among the

tombs, the most foul place imaginable. That was unclean. He was naked,

a state unthinkable in his culture. This outcast knew with a wisdom

beyond the swirling of pain within him that Jesus represented a threat

to the chaos and pain within which he lived. So he called out with a

challenge when he saw Jesus.

Jesus asks him to name the things which are possessing him.

His response meant much to those who heard him. Because the name of the

power that possesses him is "Legion".

Israel was possessed in a similar way by legions of Roman soldiers who

held them captive in internal exile.

And every day, like the man possessed, the people of Israel have an

impossible choice to make: 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. (Christian

Century, June 15, 2004)

Jesus takes action. He frees the man from forces named "Legion" which

possess him.

The forces are cast into the herd of pigs - unclean animals in Jewish

culture, surely raised to feed the Roman troops possessing the city -

and they throw themselves to their death.

And the response of those watching? Did they cheer for the great gift

of this man's release from possession? Were they thrilled that finally,

in this man Jesus, there was a way to believe in the power and rightness

of liberation from forces that keep cultures and people bound?

Their response was fear. Total, utter fear. They are, the gospel tells

us, seized by great fear. Why? Because this freedom and liberation

business shakes every set of well worn assumptions these folks hold

dear.

For in imagining and claiming liberation, life changes. Even liberation

from oppressive powers that hold us captive.

And we don't much like change. Change - even if it is a change that

means healing and wellness and grace - change scares us sometimes so

much that we will swamp any force that will try to save us from the very

things that are killing us.

Jesus was asked by the townspeople who had seen the power of the

liberation he brought. He was asked to leave town.

Can you tell me of a liberation movement that has been met with open

arms?

We know that there are cultural demons that have forced so many into

internal exile. We know that the demons of sexism and racism and

cultural arrogance and heterosexism and ecological devastation and

classism are killing us -

We know that there are people wandering in our midst bound by poverty

and judgment and the wrench of the pain they are forced to live day

after day while our culture teaches us to look away.

We know that in our nation nearly 53 cents of every dollar of federal

discretionary spending goes to the military, at a total of approximately

$750,000 dollars per minute. And we know that in Minneapolis and other

school districts teachers and programs are being slashed by 30 million

dollars - a total representing forty minutes of Pentagon spending.

And we know that to speak out against the demons: the war against women

or gays or the poor or Iraq is to take the risk of being asked to leave

polite company, much as Jesus was.

Because liberation from the things that bind us is dangerous and

frightening business. As we raise our voices for liberation from the

demons of war and fear and fracture, we risk, oh yes we do.

But not speaking out puts us at greater risk. Because in our silence we

don't share our hearts or learn about the hearts of others. In our

silence we give the demons the power to continue their possession - of

our hearts, our dreams, our Christ based vision.

We held a gathering here last Saturday. It was a long anticipated

thing. I want to tell you what I learned about fear and speaking out

through the process of preparing for the veteran's breakfast.

Before I came to this church, I was told about the flag controversy. I

was told that it was a heated and painful discussion among you. In the

aftermath of 9/11, I am given to understand that the question of where

the flag belongs was brought to public conversation that was not always

easy. The decision was difficult, and remains difficult for many. This

I was briefed on even before I hit the doors.

I was very active in Duluth around issues of peace. It made sense to

me, that since I am a minister of the gospel and since Jesus preaches a

gospel of peace, speaking for peace was a natural thing for a minister

to do. I was little prepared for the response I got. Because I spoke

out for peace, I was perceived as anti government, anti military, anti

America. I was strongly criticized by some, and judged by others and it

confounded me and, it made me wary.

So, I came to be your Pastor. Aware of the flag controversy. Bearing

the lessons I had learned through my peace work.

When I was approached and asked if I would take time during worship on

Veteran's Day to honor those who have served our country, I said "of

course". My father served in World War II and in the National Guard. I

grew up to the rhythm of his shoe polishing before Guard Duty weekends

and his whistling of service tunes. I am well aware that so many men

and women have been asked to give up so much for their country.

As Wally and I talked, it was clear that there was a lot of energy and

interest in gathering the veterans for a time of honoring. I am moved

by the work that went into the event, and by the spirit that was alive

in the room. Watching pictures of the men and women of this church in

their youth, right before they left for duty is holy, truly it is. So

much life and attitude in those faces.

But I will tell you that as the veteran's event unfolded, I was a bit

wary. I wasn't sure how my sense of the gospel vision of peace would be

received if I spoke it. Having been told to be silent, in so many

words, by some in my past work in Duluth, I knew that I had an

inevitable bit of stress waiting for me.

So I thought.

Wally was great about including me in every part of the decision making

process. He showed me the booklet and respected my suggestions and then

I asked him if it was ok to put in a line or two of Scripture, since

this was a church event. The passage I had in mind was from the prophet

Micah,=20

"They shall beat their swords into plowshares,

and their spears into pruning hooks;

nation shall not lift up sword against nation,

neither shall they learn war any more."

I asked Wally if it would be ok to use those lines. And this was his

response:

"Of course. That's what this is all about. We don't want to have to

keep on fighting. We want to find an end to war."

We can cast out the demons. Together, we can name the things that keep

creation and each one of us bound. We can work together for solutions

but we cannot do that work unless we are willing to listen to each

other.

Wally and I, we were each a bit wary of each other. But we found common

ground.

He didn't treat me like some liberal feminist anti American peacenik and

I didn't treat him like some nationalistic conservative war monger.

We found common ground in our belief in the vision of liberation.

Neither one of us had to leave town. We both want to banish the demon

of war.

Fear keeps us bound. Fear of differences and conflict keeps us bound. Fear of change keeps us bound. The gospel teaches us to name our bondage and believe in the power of liberation. Knowing full well that change, even change that leads to liberation, has the power to fill us so full of fear that we are willing to climb on top of anything to drown it.

In our personal, our church, our community and our national lives, we

sometimes let fear swamp us and we forget that there is a force more

powerful than fear.

The liberation power of Jesus.

May we have the courage to name the demons which bind us.

And hear each other into freedom.

Amen