Who would they blame?

In this weekend's Gospel reading Jesus meets a man living among the tombs. We are told that he is possessed of so many demons that they call themselves Legion. Jesus sends the demons into a herd of pigs who promptly run into the sea. Luke tells us,

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.

The Preaching Helps page of the United Methodist Church's General Board of Discipleship offers that,

The healing of the Gerasene demoniac was a major event that frightened the local people. They were, in fact, so frightened that they asked Jesus to leave them. When the former demoniac, now in his right mind, begged to go with Jesus, Jesus commanded him to remain in that town as a witness. Mark's account confirms that the former demoniac did just as Jesus suggested. He proclaimed the great things that Jesus had done for him, and those who heard him were amazed (Mark 5:20). What profound lessons do we learn from this?

Can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em?—I once heard a preacher speak harshly about the pig farmers' request for Jesus to leave. He spoke of the issue in economic terms. It is quite true that they suffered economically, and maybe they did want the troublemaker to leave before they suffered any further losses. But what if there were something more familiar at play? What if Legion, the man in his demonized state, fulfilled a function in his local community? What would they do without their resident demon? Who would they blame for things that went awry; how would they justify their nighttime fears without Legion? Humans often find it more comfortable to live with their demons than to exorcise them and live in peace. I wonder if they invented, or created another Legion after this man was healed?

Often a problem someone in recovery faces is that their friends and family are accustomed to him or her as a drug addict or alcoholic and don't know how to deal with healing. I think that without meaning to, we can put a stumbling block in front of those trying to change their lives by not giving them room to be transformed. What do you think?

peace,
Frank+
The Rev. Frank Logue, Pastor

The Wounded Healer

There is a thought provoking post at The RiverStone Journal worth a read. The author is looking forward to praying for others during a healing service, knowing full well the absurdity of that act knowing that she too is in need of healing. She says in part

What will happen is that I will go in on Sunday morning in full touch with the absurdity of the situation, feeling like a faker and a hypocrite. Then, during Eucharist, I will lay hands on the first head that comes before me, and I will say the prayer for healing. And I will be completely present in the moment, which is transported outside of space and time while still being firmly rooted in the here and now, and God's grace will flow through me. I will do this again and again, for each person who comes to me. When it is over, I will realize once again why I continue in this ministry. I am not a faker and a hypocrite. I do not have healing power. All I can do is humble myself, put myself into the background, and let God work through me.

In his book The Wounded Healer Henri Nouwen writes

In short: "Who can take away suffering without entering it?"

The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there....

On the other hand, it would be very easy to misuse the concept of the wounded healer by defending a form of spiritual exhibitionism. A minister who talks in the pulpit about his own personal problems is of no help to the congregation...Making one's own wounds a source of healing, therefore, does not call for a sharing of superficial personal pains but for a constant willingness to see one's own pain and suffering as rising from the depth of the human condition which all men share.

You may be wounded and feel that you have nothing to offer God. Yet it is your wounds you have to offer. By getting in touch with your own emotional scars, you can find the empathy and compassion to reach out to others. You do this not by dumping all your hurts on someone, but by being fully present with him or her in the pain, loss, loneliness, despair, grief or whatever else they battle. You have some sense of what they need for The Holy Spirit can use your own woundedness to guide you.

peace,
Frank+
The Rev. Frank Logue, Pastor

Who Jesus Heals

In this weekend's Gospel reading Jesus encounters a man who has just missed healing for nearly four decades. John's Gospel tells us:

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids-- blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me." Jesus said to him, "Stand up, take your mat and walk." At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. Now that day was a sabbath.

The Rev. Dr. Homer Henderson has preached on this saying:

Who is he? He's a real bum, that's who he is! He had no gratitude, no faith, no humility, no guts. He didn't deserve to be healed. He didn't deserve anything. This is the one Jesus healed...Jesus healed this man not because of who the man was, not because of who the person was, but because of who Jesus was.

The Rev. John Jewell has noted of this passage:

In this miracle story, there is no rejoicing and no thanksgiving to God. The crowds are not amazed with the goodness of God, but instead, people commit themselves to eliminating Jesus from their midst.

There are however, some very important lessons to be learned from this strangest of miracle stories.

1. Unawareness of miracles—it got by the Jews—we miss miracle all the time because we, like them, are caught up in the present circumstances


2. Though we are too often unaware of God—God is very much aware of us.


3. The goodness of God is not dependent upon the reciprocal goodness of us! i.e. God is good whether we are good or not—God is not dependent or co-dependent!

When we love, we heal

If we haven't been healed of the wounds of our past life, there is a strong possibility that we'll pass those wounds on to others—our community, our family members, friends and so on...

An unwillingness to forgive others for the real or imaginary wrongs they have done us is a poison that can affect our health—physical, emotional and spiritual—sometimes very deeply...

Healing, praying and loving all go hand in hand. Healing is loving. When we heal, we love; when we love, we heal; when we love one another, we affirm, we nurture and we cherish that person. Sometimes in our lives we can try to solve a problem and there is time for that. But sometimes just letting ourselves love again and be loved can solve so many problems. When we let go and just soak up love from the Lord and others, we have a whole new power to go on again...

Healing does not usually take place instantly but is a process. Deep pain and resentment, which have developed over time, will usually take time and love and patient prayer to heal. Often there are layers of hurt, resentment and un-freedom that need to be uncovered in prayer. Once one layer of hurt, resentment and un-freedom has been healed, others may present themselves for healing. We know we are healed when we can recall the hurting experience without trauma.

—The Rev. Peter Hosking as quoted in Richard Carter's book In Search of the Lost.

Hosking made these remarks as he worked with the Melanesian Brotherhood in the aftermath of their peacemaking efforts putting them in situations no one should have to see or experience including the deaths of seven of their members. These remarks seem worth revisiting in this week of a nation coming to terms with a massacre. Hosking's words speak to all sorts of pain, and of a type of healing needed by many whose experiences in life have layered on hurt, resentment and un-freedom.