Date:
June 20, 2010, Fourh Sunday after Pentecost
Author: The Rev Dr James D Kegel
GRACE TO YOU AND PEACE FROM GOD OUR FATHER AND THE LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST, AMEN.
The synod assembly meeting in Portland a few weeks ago was asked to respond to a question put by David Swartling the Secretary of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Question—what do we value most about the Lutheran Church? This was not so hard to answer and most of the answers were the same: emphasis on grace alone, faith alone, biblically grounded and centered, God comes through the means of word and sacrament. Swartling commended us because no one answered, at least out loud: potlucks with red jello or coffee hour as the most important part of Sunday morning. Being Lutheran is being part of a community—we like our coffee, we resonate with Lake Wobegon, we know how to pronounce lutefisk even if we don’t like to eat it. But more important, we are a confession with a system of beliefs grounded in God’s Word and open to the world around us. Grace, faith, Bible, real presence, two kingdoms, Law and Gospel—these are Lutherans things and we value them very much. I was troubled, though, by Swartling’s question because he did not say just “Lutheran” but ELCA. The man I was sitting next to at our round table had been part of a lively Missouri Synod congregation in the Bay Area. Saying ELCA brings in decisions at churchwide assemblies, rules and procedures and policies that may or may not belong to the center of Lutheranism. One of the things that I appreciate about Lutheran is that we want to focus on the really important things, not structures but the Gospel. We do not care so much about institutional goals as we do about the Jesus’ story. Congregations may feel disconnected to the synod office or the churchwide ELCA but we want to feel connected to the ministry and mission of Jesus Christ. We want to be grace people. What is important is to know Jesus and love Jesus, and go forth to tell others the wonderful story of God’s love for us in Jesus. We do not all think alike or worship alike; it is enough to find our unity in Christ.
Today’s Gospel shows Jesus going outside the confines of Israel. He and his disciples cross the Sea of Galilee and come to Gadara, or Gergesa or Gerasa. The texts can not seem to decide which Gentile community on the far side of the lake it is that Jesus visits. But when he gets out of the boat, he is met by a man possessed by demons. There is a mark of authenticity about this situation—the man is outside his community and lives among the tombs, he wears no clothing, he has immense strength to break shackles and run away from his guards. He is insensitive to pain. It is clear that this man is occupied by the enemy and we find that even the name of his demon—Legion—is a title from the Roman army for many. A Roman Legion had six thousand men; in Mark’s Gospel the number of demons is given at two thousand. The Gentile territory itself was unclean –the people herded swine but the man was unclean even according to his own community’s standards—he wore no clothing, he escaped his confines, and he lived among the tombs. Jesus does not avoid the man but goes to him. He confronts the demons and casts them out and restores the man to wholeness. This is a story about combating evil for the purpose of saving and restoring a troubled man.
One of the things I like about Lutheran theology is what is called the theology of the cross. In his Heidelberg Disputation of 1518, Martin Luther described what he meant: it is in suffering that the power of God is shown most clearly. It is Christ on the cross dying for our sin, that we see the power of God. It is not in glorious things that God is found but in insignificant things like words of a page, bread and wine and water that the Holy Spirit comes to bring faith and life. “A theology of glory is appealing,” Ted Schroeder, director of Christian Education in the ELCA writes, “Everyone wants to be part of something as worthwhile as establishing the kingdom of God on earth and as fulfilling as leading the successful life. But the theology of the cross reminds us that God meets us exactly where we fall, fail and come to the end of our rope. We depend on God’s constant grace and return to the cross daily to put to death the sins that continue to plague us, celebrating again the forgiveness that God won for us on the cross.” Part of the Lutheran theology of the cross is to speak the truth, to call things by their proper name and not pretend. Sin and suffering are real. There is evil in the world. There are forces of darkness which bind us, enslave us and fetter us. Not every way is God’s way or a helpful way. Jesus does not pretend but confronts the demonic. He does not allow the man possessed by demons in our story to stay that way—in fact the demon in the man accused Jesus of tormenting him. As Christians we proclaim that Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life. Jesus is the way to God. And it is at the cross where Jesus suffered and died that we see that he is Son of the Most High God. It is Jesus who was anointed to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, let the oppressed go free and proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord. He is the Messiah of Israel, fulfiller of the Law and prophets, but more than this. Jesus and his disciples set sail for the realm of the demons to release the man bound. He proclaimed God’s favor not just to those within the community of the faith, but to the whole world. He went on the attack, making spiritual warfare on the forces of evil. And he left a witness in the man who had been healed and bid him to preach and teach and make disciples in a far off nation. This unnamed man went about the city proclaiming how much Jesus had done for him. When Jesus is lifted up on the cross to suffer and die it is also to draw the whole world to himself.
I find it interesting that the unnamed man in our text is really the first foreign missionary in the Bible. I remember when we sent missionaries. My wife’s uncle, Arvild, was a missionary to Madagascar. Daniel Falk’s mother was a missionary to Cameroon. Elizabeth Uhlig from our congregation was a missionary to Papua New Guinea. I remember when the missionary would come home on furlough and talk to our Sunday School about adventures in foreign lands but especially about the power of Jesus to change lives. I saw Bjorn Pederson, the former director of Lutherwood Camp, at the synod assembly. I remember when he talked about being a young person sent to Nepal as a Christian missionary, how he was surrounded by armed Maoist rebels and thought his life would be taken. But he prayed and it was as if the Holy Spirit put a wall between him and the hostile guards. Some of them were even willing to hear about this Jesus who had sent Bjorn to their land. We may be uncomfortable with the idea of missionaries now. It is easier to put Coexist bumper stickers on our cars. But not all religions are the same. We proclaim Jesus who came to battle evil. He did this to help and heal and save. It cost him his life. Freeing the man possessed by demons was costly. The man was restored to fullness of life but the people of Gadar, Gergesa, Gerasa, lost their livelihood—the pigs ran down the steep hill and drowned themselves in the lake. No wonder the townspeople were afraid and asked Jesus to leave. Salvation comes at a cost. But freedom is wonderful. The Gospel is powerful. Jesus still changes lives, heals and saves.
What do we value most about the Lutheran Church? At its best it is not afraid to name the powers and principalities. At its best, it refuses to circle the wagons and reach out only to those of similar heritage and background. At its best, it is willing to be a missionary church, an evangelical church, one that cares about the bodies and minds and souls of troubled people. At its best, it does not worry so much about institutions and structures but about people. At its best, it is simply Christian—centered in Jesus Christ. Amen .
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