The Price Of Faith
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
The ongoing debate over how America ought to respond to what many consider a rising tide of illegal immigrants arouses passionate feelings on all sides -- most recently manifested in Congress's inability to agree on legislation reforming immigration laws. But as team member Steve McCutchan notes in this installment of The Immediate Word, whatever one's position is on immigration, economic issues are really what drives much of the debate. The lectionary Gospel reading for this Sunday, the story of Jesus healing of the Gerasene demoniac in Luke 8:26-39, provides some interesting perspectives for thinking about this topic. Like the immigration debate, this story also contains an economic issue embedded beneath its surface: the value of the herd of livestock Jesus runs off the cliff after freeing the man of his "legion" of demons. In addition, its setting in Gentile territory suggests that Jesus is reaching out to non-Jews as well as Jews. Who are those we treat as "Gentiles" in our midst? With summer now in full swing and many people looking forward to vacation time, team member Thom Shuman also offers some thoughts on slowing down the ever-increasing pace of modern life and finding opportunities to hear the "still, small voice" of God and his creation.
The Price of Faith
by Stephen McCutchan
THE WORLD
Have you noticed how pervasive the economic factor is in the current debate over immigration in this country? The immigrants themselves come to the United States seeking an opportunity to improve their economic lives. Many of them come from such desperate economic situations that they are willing to risk their lives and accept difficult work situations in order to send money back home to support their families. Some Central American countries have seen a major positive impact on their economy through this source of funds.
One of the strongly voiced objections to the presence of immigrants (especially in areas with large numbers of illegal immigrants) is the economic burden they place on local communities -- especially schools and health providers. Some suggest that these immigrants do not pay taxes, yet they take advantage of the community's social services and place a burden upon the local police forces. Others point out that our Social Security system has received an influx of millions of dollars that the employers of immigrants have had to pay on their behalf -- even though those immigrants will never be able to get any of that money back. Some even suggest that this has been a major factor in keeping Social Security stable.
Corporations have backed a proposed immigration bill because they say it is critical for their businesses to have a source of cheap, hard-working labor. Without them, it is suggested, the prices of many of our products would rise significantly. Unions counter that it is exactly this source of cheap labor that holds down the salaries of American workers.
Regardless of the position you take in this debate, an economic factor lies behind almost all of the arguments. There is a reason why, as many biblical commentators have pointed out, that Jesus talked about money and wealth more than any other subject. Jesus said in Luke 18:25: "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."
Rollo May has pointed out that the Greek word for "demon," daemon, describes urges that are natural to our human nature. It is only when that natural urge begins to take possession or dominates a person that we speak of it as demonic. As 1 Timothy 6:10 has pointed out, "For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains." While it is not money in and of itself that is evil, it is very easy to be possessed by it.
The Gospel lesson for June 24 integrates the subject of demonic possession with the economic fears of the community. It is a good lesson for Christians who are part of the immigration debate to use in guiding their reflections.
THE WORD
As we begin to examine Luke 8:26-39, the healing of the Gerasene demoniac, it is important to recognize the context of the story. First, note that the Gospel writers place the story right after Jesus had been on the lake with his disciples and a great storm had arisen. The Israelites were not a seafaring people. A large body of water seemed a foreign territory to them and often became a symbol of the abyss. The opening story of Genesis says, "The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters" (Genesis 1:2). Like God, who with a mere word curbed the wildness of chaos, so now Jesus merely speaks to the storm and stills it. But that story took place in the midst of the community of faith as symbolized by his disciples. What would happen when Jesus moved out into the larger world? What happens when faith confronts the larger world of mixed or even unbelief?
The Gospel writer moves to respond to that question by telling the story about what happened in the country of the Gerasenes. There are several clues to the fact that this was Gentile territory. The most obvious is that they raised a herd of pigs, which would never happen in Jewish territory. The obvious market for such meat would be the Roman occupying forces that had no compunction about eating pork.
As mentioned above, psychologist Rollo May provides a bridge between this colorful story and our world when he suggests that the difference between our daimons, or natural urges, and the demonic possession is the experience when one of these normal urges gets out of balance and begins to dominate and distort our personality. A simple experience for many of us is the experience of anger. Anger is a natural part of our personality, but occasionally it dominates and distorts who we are. We even say, "I was just so angry that I lost my head." Whatever the exact cause of the distortion of the man in the story, it had caused him to experience his personal chaos. The normal signs of civilization, wearing clothes and living in a home, were not part of his life.
That the gospel writer wants to speak of something larger than just a personal tragedy is made clear as the story progresses. When Jesus asks his name, the man's response is that his name is Legion. For Luke's readers, this would have been more than an unusual name. To hear it would remind them of the Roman army. A legion was a unit in that army of about 6,000 soldiers. In what way has this man's life been thrown into chaos by the Roman army of occupation? And equally important for the Gospel reader, does Jesus have power over the chaos that they have caused?
Next we have this strange dialogue between Jesus and the demons. While there are many daimons that could be addressed by this story, let us focus on the natural urge to gain economic wealth by which we can make our lives better. There is nothing wrong with engaging in a profession by which you gain the means to support yourself and your family. In fact, it is clear that God intends that this take place in God's creation. The problem comes when the means becomes the end. Now, the fact that there was a herd of swine present becomes important. As becomes clear, this is the source of income for the whole community. The village is economically dependent on the Roman occupation forces that purchase the swine the community is raising. Like other demons, this urge to make a living has distorted their humanity. As the story makes clear, they would rather have someone stripped of his humanity and living among the tombs than to risk their economic security.
When Jesus chooses the man's well-being over against the economic cost of the herd of swine, it strikes fear within the hearts of the neighbors. They would rather have Jesus leave the scene and the man return to his state of chaos than to risk the economic structure of the community. As is clear in our lives as well, anything that threatens our economic stability easily engenders fear among people.
This is where the context becomes important in understanding the thrust of the story. Jesus, like God in the Genesis story, had just demonstrated his authority over chaos by stilling the storm. Now the question is raised, if the healing power of Christ, or the Body of Christ, threatens to create chaos in the economic structures of our society, who or what do we trust? Is our natural reaction to place economics first and, like the Gerasene community, urge Jesus (or ministry in his name) to leave our community? Jesus put the same question more directly in Matthew 6:24: "No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."
CRAFTING THE SERMON
One does not need to take a position on the best response to the challenge of immigration in order to raise the question of whether we allow economic factors to play too large a role in how we choose to respond.
Using the information discussed above to expose the economic theme of this story, you might invite your congregation to consider the question of immigration strictly from the viewpoint of how they believe Christ might want them to respond if there were absolutely no economic factors involved. That is, if they saw a group of people in need but responding to them did not affect their taxes, overburden the schools and hospitals of their community, or hold down the wages of other workers, how would Jesus want Christians to respond to these people? This allows people to reflect on the economic pressures that affect the practice of our Christian faith.
You might want to move from there to briefly explaining Rollo May's concept of a modern understanding of the demonic. The question can then be asked as to how much our economic insecurity becomes a dominant concern that begins to distort our natural Christian compassion? Are we being possessed by our economic fears? The story of the community's response to the healing of the Gerasene demoniac can help in exploring this connection.
Finally, you can connect this story with the previous story of Jesus stilling the storm. In Jesus we see a reflection of God who has authority over chaos, both natural and economic. The challenge of faith is to trust that if we act faithfully in response to our neighbor, Jesus can calm our fears about the future.
There is a price to our faith. It means that we have to bear the cost of trusting more in the way of Christ than we do in responding to our fears. The Good News is that Jesus can heal us of our demons and send us back out to spread the good news to our neighbors -- especially those that are in desperate need.
ANOTHER VIEW
by Thom M. Shuman
I used to look forward to summer. Summer was when work slowed down; people walked a little slower; the sun seemed a little brighter; the shimmer of the grass seemed to last a little longer; life could be walked at a more relaxed pace.
But around the time of Y2K (remember that?), summer changed. Work did not slow down, but continued on its fast pace; people added a few more steps to their journey through the day; the sun became an "enemy" to be avoided, or at least sun-screened; grass grew faster and had to be mowed more often; and people became more stressed than relaxed.
Or was it just us? Did we hit a point where we just had to keep our dizzying pace of life? Did we decide that we could be just as productive through summer as we were during the other months? Did we come to believe that we had to stay connected, wired, texted even when we were away at the beach, or the mountains, or wherever we went to get away?
Whatever it is, we have lost that ability, that gift, that wonder of being able to slow down, to live life differently, to put down stress and pick up a good book, to spend more time on the deck than working on it, to lie in the hammock with our kids or spouse, and that's all we would do -- just lie in the hammock.
And in that loss, we no longer hear that still, small voice, that "sheer silence" (1 Kings 19:12) through which God speaks to us. We no longer wrap ourselves in the good and wonderful creation God has gifted to us. We no longer find the time to let the great wind stir our creativity, or for the earthquake of God's laughter to lighten our lives.
But it doesn't have to be that way, does it?
This summer, let's listen for God -- in the crack of a ball off a bat, and in the laughter of the Little Leaguer who catches the foul ball in her glove. Let's look for God in the flickering brake lights of the fireflies. Let's relax with God, setting aside the mower and just lying down in the cool, green grass, gazing up at the trees stretching and yawning to the sky, until the stars come out and twinkle us off to sleep, so we can dream in the sheer silence God gives to us.
ILLUSTRATIONS
The primary article focuses on the economics of being a Christian. Too often, the money gets in the way of the life we are called to live. I remember hearing a story about a man who was committed to tithing during his younger years. As he grew older, that became increasingly more difficult because of his bills and the large salary he was making. Troubled by this, he asked his pastor out to lunch to discuss it. He was very upfront and honest with his pastor, saying that since he now made about $300,000 per year, $30,000 was a lot of money to give to the church. The pastor could understand the enormous burden this placed on the man. So he offered to lift this up in prayer: "Dear God, please reduce this man's salary until he can once again afford to tithe." The man cut him off mid-prayer in hopes of finding a different solution to his problem.
***
Another illustration based on personal economics comes from a newspaper article asking people how much more they would need to make to be satisfied. You might be surprised to hear that the average amount was 20%. People were not looking to double or triple their income -- they only wanted 20%. The problem is, a 20% increase is typically more than the average person will see in a given year -- and yet we can visualize 20%. I can't visualize what it would be like to earn a starting pitcher's salary, but I can visualize 20% more -- which means, according to the article, that most people are in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction with how much they make. Discontentment is virtually universal. Even Rockefeller himself, with all of his fortune, was asked once, "How much is enough?" His answer was, "When I get a little more." Based on this, you can see why the people asked Jesus to leave them -- even today. We are consumed with that 20%, and not with the kingdom of God.
***
For being quiet enough to hear that still, small voice, one of my favorite illustrations is about the truck driver hauling two tons of canaries. At every stoplight, the driver would get out of his truck, run around it, and hit the sides with a baseball bat. After seeing this for several miles, another driver following this trucker finally got out of his car at the next stop light to ask him what he was doing. Frantically, the trucker said that he had two tons of canaries in his semi. Unfortunately, the truck could only carry one ton of cargo. That meant he had to keep one ton of canaries in the air at all times. (It's similar to the old act of spinning plates.)
***
Frederick Speakman tells the story of an endearing and rather sad character in a small Pennsylvania mining town: the town drunk. Week in and week out, the drunk could be found on the sidewalk, sleeping off the last night's excess. His clothes were shabby, his behavior less than socially acceptable, but the people tolerated him.
Once a year, in the summer, things would change. Summer was when the tent-meeting revival came to town. In the front row, every year, sat the town drunk. And every year, on the last night of the revival, he would walk down the aisle and promise the whole community that he would change.
The man wasn't being false. For the next few weeks he wouldn't go near a bar. His threadbare clothes would look a little neater. He would enter into the life of the town, going to church, attending social functions. But every year a strange thing happened: no one would talk to him. He made them uncomfortable. The people found a reformed town drunk much harder to handle than an unreformed one. They needed a symbol of failure, living evidence that human beings cannot be reformed, that they themselves would not have to face the fearful prospect of new life. Every year, a few weeks after the revival had moved on, the drunk would be back in the bar, and sleeping on the streets again.
He is a tragic figure. Yet even more tragic are the good Christian citizens of that little town -- people who were so afraid of change that when they saw healing and wholeness incarnate before them, they could only fear it.
***
Sometimes there are more important things than economics.
Fred Craddock tells of visiting an old high-school buddy many years ago, who ran a small restaurant back in their hometown in Tennessee. The man's name was Buck. On one of Fred's visits back, Buck suggested they go out for coffee.
"What's the matter?" asked Fred. "Isn't this the restaurant?"
"I don't know," said Buck. "Sometimes I wonder."
So they went someplace else for coffee. After a while, Buck asked his preacher friend, "Did you see the curtain?"
"Buck, I saw the curtain. I always see the curtain."
What he meant by curtain is this: They have a number of buildings in that little town; they're called shotgun buildings. They're long buildings and have two entrances, front and back. One's off the street, and one's off the alley, with a curtain and the kitchen in the middle. His restaurant is in one of those. If you're white, you come off the street; if you're black, you come off the alley.
Buck said, "Did you see the curtain?"
Fred said, "I saw the curtain."
Buck said, "The curtain has to come down."
Fred said, "Good. Bring it down."
Buck said, "That's easy for you to say. Come in here from out of state and tell me how to run my business."
Fred said, "Okay, leave it up."
Buck said, "I can't leave it up."
Fred said, "Well, then take it down."
"I can't take it down." Buck was in terrible shape. After a while he said, "If I take that curtain down, I lose a lot of my customers. If I leave that curtain up, I lose my soul."
-- Fred Craddock, Craddock Stories (Chalice Press, 2001), p. 61
***
Anthony DeMello tells a parable of a man who is romantically interested in a woman. After months of his pursuing her, she finally agrees to a rendezvous. Here is what happens:
"At that time and place the lover finally found himself beside his beloved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of love letters that he had written to her over the past months. They were passionate letters, expressing the pain he felt and his burning desire to experience the delight of love and union. He began to read them to his beloved. The hours passed by and he read on and on.
"Finally the woman said, 'What kind of a fool are you? These letters are all about you and your longing for me. Well here I am sitting with you at last and you are lost in your stupid letters.'
" 'Here I am with you,' says God, 'and you keep reflecting about me in your head, talking about me with your tongue, and searching for me in your books. When will you shut up and see?' "
Sometimes we need to set aside our theology, and even our Bibles, and simply listen for the still, small voice.
***
Sometimes we're like Elijah on Mt. Horeb. When things don't go the way we want them to, it's all too easy for us to pull back, to hide out, to go somewhere where we can feel sorry for ourselves, somewhere where we can lick our wounds and have us a "pity party" -- even where we can wish, like Elijah, that we could die -- forgetting that our Lord is still the Lord of all creation, that he has called us to be his people and to do the work of his kingdom with him, and that he is with us, leading us and strengthening us and guiding us. And forgetting that we are part of a community of faith, all down through the ages, that surrounds us like a great cloud of witnesses.
So what does the Lord do about the sulking, fearful Elijah? He sends an angel to tell him to quit feeling sorry for himself and to get up and get ready to take a journey, because the Lord has work for him to do -- and he'd better quit moping and start eating the food the angel has prepared for him or he won't have the strength to make the 40-day trip the Lord has planned for him.
***
Our Lord calls us, as he called Elijah and so many others, to move beyond our self-centeredness, to move beyond our concern mainly for ourselves. Theologian Hans Kung writes:
In everything that we think, say and feel, do and suffer, we tend quite naturally to protect, shield, advance ourselves, to cherish ourselves. And now we are expected to give exactly the same care and attention to our neighbor. With this all reserves are broken down. For us, who are egoists by nature, it means a radical conversion....
It certainly does mean the orientation of ourselves toward others: an alertness, an openness, a receptivity for our fellow [humans], a readiness to help without reserve. It means living not for ourselves, but for others: in this -- from the standpoint of the person who loves -- is rooted the indissoluble unity of undivided love of God and unlimited love of neighbor.
-- Hans Kung, On Being a Christian (Doubleday, 1976), p. 257
***
To give and not to take,
that is what makes us human.
To serve and not to rule,
that is what makes us human.
To help and not to crush,
that is what makes us human.
To nourish and not to devour,
that is what makes us human.
And, if need be, to die and not to live,
that is what makes us human.
Ideals and not deals,
that is what makes us human.
Creed and not greed,
that is what makes us human.
-- a paraphrase of Peter Maurin by Sabra McKenzie-Hamilton, The Catholic Worker (May 2007), p. 6
WORSHIP RESOURCES
by Thom M. Shuman
Call to Worship
Leader: When we long for the special effects we think life should offer:
People: it is enough, for us, that God comes in a soft, summer shower.
Leader: When we our hearts are cracked by the drought of doubt:
People: it is enough, for us, that God opens up the fountains of faith for us.
Leader: When our senses are deadened by the sales pitches of our culture:
People: it is enough, for us, that God wraps us in the silence of grace.
Prayer of the Day (and Our Lord's Prayer)
When we feel compelled to push everything to its limits, especially you, Holy One,
it is enough that your grace can slow us down.
When we stand naked and exposed to the buffeting winds of our doubts and questions,
it is enough, Healing Servant, that you clothe us in your peace and put our minds at ease.
When we are entangled in that legion of worries and fears which consume our lives,
it is enough, Spirit of Silence, that you untie the knots and set us free.
It is enough, God in Community, Holy in One,
that you are with us even as we pray as Jesus has taught us, saying,
Our Father . . .
Call to Reconciliation
We long to be set free from those "powers" which control our lives;
to let go of our fears of "them";
to stop trying to build fences between us and those who are not like us.
That is why our longing brings us to the living waters offered by our God,
who allows us to fill our parched souls with a refreshing drink of forgiveness.
Let us confess our sins, as we pray together, saying . . .
(Unison) Prayer of Confession
Like children, we fear that if we tell you what we have done, God of Justice,
you might not love us any more.
We can kill the dreams of those around us with a word, spoken or withheld.
We can make the lives of our friends miserable, instead of sharing a miracle.
We are filled with that legion of temptations which only leave us
empty and wanting more.
Forgive us, Gracious Father.
Remind us that we are no longer sinners, but your children.
Baptized, we are clothed in the graciousness and faithfulness of Jesus Christ,
our Lord and Savior,
who came that we might be set free of all that imprisons us.
(silent prayers may be offered)
Assurance of Pardon
Leader: God forgives us, so we might be new people.
God equips us, so we might serve others.
God sends us forth, so we might be a witness to everyone we meet.
People: No one is the same:
enemies are now our friends;
those we could not trust now become our confidants;
those we could not hear now speak to us of God's hope and joy.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
CHILDREN'S SERMON
Elijah and the Voice
1 Kings 19:11-12
Elijah was a messenger of God. One day the word of the Lord told him, "Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord." Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord.
(Pass a large sea shell or empty jar, inviting the children to take turns listening to the noise. Ask the others, while they are waiting, to put the palms of their hands on their ears and push, hearing the sound inside themselves. As they listen, continue telling the story.)
And after the wind came an earthquake. The ground shook and broke open, but the Lord was not in the wind nor the earthquake. And after the earthquake came a fire, but after the fire, a sound of sheer silence.
(Pour water into the jar so the children can hear the "sheer silence.")
Talk together: What did Elijah hear? Sometimes the voice of the Lord, the Spirit of God, speaks in silence. Have you ever heard a "silent" voice? Have you ever prayed with a silent voice? Pretend you are at the seashore and the bright sun is coming up over the water, or it's the end of the day and you watch the sunset, the sky painted pink. Have you ever said, "Thank you, God," silently?
Prayer: Let us pray now in sheer silence. (Pray silently.) Amen.
(From Story Time at the Altar, by Elaine M. Ward, CSS Publishing Co., 2003)
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, June 24, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
The Price of Faith
by Stephen McCutchan
THE WORLD
Have you noticed how pervasive the economic factor is in the current debate over immigration in this country? The immigrants themselves come to the United States seeking an opportunity to improve their economic lives. Many of them come from such desperate economic situations that they are willing to risk their lives and accept difficult work situations in order to send money back home to support their families. Some Central American countries have seen a major positive impact on their economy through this source of funds.
One of the strongly voiced objections to the presence of immigrants (especially in areas with large numbers of illegal immigrants) is the economic burden they place on local communities -- especially schools and health providers. Some suggest that these immigrants do not pay taxes, yet they take advantage of the community's social services and place a burden upon the local police forces. Others point out that our Social Security system has received an influx of millions of dollars that the employers of immigrants have had to pay on their behalf -- even though those immigrants will never be able to get any of that money back. Some even suggest that this has been a major factor in keeping Social Security stable.
Corporations have backed a proposed immigration bill because they say it is critical for their businesses to have a source of cheap, hard-working labor. Without them, it is suggested, the prices of many of our products would rise significantly. Unions counter that it is exactly this source of cheap labor that holds down the salaries of American workers.
Regardless of the position you take in this debate, an economic factor lies behind almost all of the arguments. There is a reason why, as many biblical commentators have pointed out, that Jesus talked about money and wealth more than any other subject. Jesus said in Luke 18:25: "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."
Rollo May has pointed out that the Greek word for "demon," daemon, describes urges that are natural to our human nature. It is only when that natural urge begins to take possession or dominates a person that we speak of it as demonic. As 1 Timothy 6:10 has pointed out, "For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains." While it is not money in and of itself that is evil, it is very easy to be possessed by it.
The Gospel lesson for June 24 integrates the subject of demonic possession with the economic fears of the community. It is a good lesson for Christians who are part of the immigration debate to use in guiding their reflections.
THE WORD
As we begin to examine Luke 8:26-39, the healing of the Gerasene demoniac, it is important to recognize the context of the story. First, note that the Gospel writers place the story right after Jesus had been on the lake with his disciples and a great storm had arisen. The Israelites were not a seafaring people. A large body of water seemed a foreign territory to them and often became a symbol of the abyss. The opening story of Genesis says, "The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters" (Genesis 1:2). Like God, who with a mere word curbed the wildness of chaos, so now Jesus merely speaks to the storm and stills it. But that story took place in the midst of the community of faith as symbolized by his disciples. What would happen when Jesus moved out into the larger world? What happens when faith confronts the larger world of mixed or even unbelief?
The Gospel writer moves to respond to that question by telling the story about what happened in the country of the Gerasenes. There are several clues to the fact that this was Gentile territory. The most obvious is that they raised a herd of pigs, which would never happen in Jewish territory. The obvious market for such meat would be the Roman occupying forces that had no compunction about eating pork.
As mentioned above, psychologist Rollo May provides a bridge between this colorful story and our world when he suggests that the difference between our daimons, or natural urges, and the demonic possession is the experience when one of these normal urges gets out of balance and begins to dominate and distort our personality. A simple experience for many of us is the experience of anger. Anger is a natural part of our personality, but occasionally it dominates and distorts who we are. We even say, "I was just so angry that I lost my head." Whatever the exact cause of the distortion of the man in the story, it had caused him to experience his personal chaos. The normal signs of civilization, wearing clothes and living in a home, were not part of his life.
That the gospel writer wants to speak of something larger than just a personal tragedy is made clear as the story progresses. When Jesus asks his name, the man's response is that his name is Legion. For Luke's readers, this would have been more than an unusual name. To hear it would remind them of the Roman army. A legion was a unit in that army of about 6,000 soldiers. In what way has this man's life been thrown into chaos by the Roman army of occupation? And equally important for the Gospel reader, does Jesus have power over the chaos that they have caused?
Next we have this strange dialogue between Jesus and the demons. While there are many daimons that could be addressed by this story, let us focus on the natural urge to gain economic wealth by which we can make our lives better. There is nothing wrong with engaging in a profession by which you gain the means to support yourself and your family. In fact, it is clear that God intends that this take place in God's creation. The problem comes when the means becomes the end. Now, the fact that there was a herd of swine present becomes important. As becomes clear, this is the source of income for the whole community. The village is economically dependent on the Roman occupation forces that purchase the swine the community is raising. Like other demons, this urge to make a living has distorted their humanity. As the story makes clear, they would rather have someone stripped of his humanity and living among the tombs than to risk their economic security.
When Jesus chooses the man's well-being over against the economic cost of the herd of swine, it strikes fear within the hearts of the neighbors. They would rather have Jesus leave the scene and the man return to his state of chaos than to risk the economic structure of the community. As is clear in our lives as well, anything that threatens our economic stability easily engenders fear among people.
This is where the context becomes important in understanding the thrust of the story. Jesus, like God in the Genesis story, had just demonstrated his authority over chaos by stilling the storm. Now the question is raised, if the healing power of Christ, or the Body of Christ, threatens to create chaos in the economic structures of our society, who or what do we trust? Is our natural reaction to place economics first and, like the Gerasene community, urge Jesus (or ministry in his name) to leave our community? Jesus put the same question more directly in Matthew 6:24: "No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."
CRAFTING THE SERMON
One does not need to take a position on the best response to the challenge of immigration in order to raise the question of whether we allow economic factors to play too large a role in how we choose to respond.
Using the information discussed above to expose the economic theme of this story, you might invite your congregation to consider the question of immigration strictly from the viewpoint of how they believe Christ might want them to respond if there were absolutely no economic factors involved. That is, if they saw a group of people in need but responding to them did not affect their taxes, overburden the schools and hospitals of their community, or hold down the wages of other workers, how would Jesus want Christians to respond to these people? This allows people to reflect on the economic pressures that affect the practice of our Christian faith.
You might want to move from there to briefly explaining Rollo May's concept of a modern understanding of the demonic. The question can then be asked as to how much our economic insecurity becomes a dominant concern that begins to distort our natural Christian compassion? Are we being possessed by our economic fears? The story of the community's response to the healing of the Gerasene demoniac can help in exploring this connection.
Finally, you can connect this story with the previous story of Jesus stilling the storm. In Jesus we see a reflection of God who has authority over chaos, both natural and economic. The challenge of faith is to trust that if we act faithfully in response to our neighbor, Jesus can calm our fears about the future.
There is a price to our faith. It means that we have to bear the cost of trusting more in the way of Christ than we do in responding to our fears. The Good News is that Jesus can heal us of our demons and send us back out to spread the good news to our neighbors -- especially those that are in desperate need.
ANOTHER VIEW
by Thom M. Shuman
I used to look forward to summer. Summer was when work slowed down; people walked a little slower; the sun seemed a little brighter; the shimmer of the grass seemed to last a little longer; life could be walked at a more relaxed pace.
But around the time of Y2K (remember that?), summer changed. Work did not slow down, but continued on its fast pace; people added a few more steps to their journey through the day; the sun became an "enemy" to be avoided, or at least sun-screened; grass grew faster and had to be mowed more often; and people became more stressed than relaxed.
Or was it just us? Did we hit a point where we just had to keep our dizzying pace of life? Did we decide that we could be just as productive through summer as we were during the other months? Did we come to believe that we had to stay connected, wired, texted even when we were away at the beach, or the mountains, or wherever we went to get away?
Whatever it is, we have lost that ability, that gift, that wonder of being able to slow down, to live life differently, to put down stress and pick up a good book, to spend more time on the deck than working on it, to lie in the hammock with our kids or spouse, and that's all we would do -- just lie in the hammock.
And in that loss, we no longer hear that still, small voice, that "sheer silence" (1 Kings 19:12) through which God speaks to us. We no longer wrap ourselves in the good and wonderful creation God has gifted to us. We no longer find the time to let the great wind stir our creativity, or for the earthquake of God's laughter to lighten our lives.
But it doesn't have to be that way, does it?
This summer, let's listen for God -- in the crack of a ball off a bat, and in the laughter of the Little Leaguer who catches the foul ball in her glove. Let's look for God in the flickering brake lights of the fireflies. Let's relax with God, setting aside the mower and just lying down in the cool, green grass, gazing up at the trees stretching and yawning to the sky, until the stars come out and twinkle us off to sleep, so we can dream in the sheer silence God gives to us.
ILLUSTRATIONS
The primary article focuses on the economics of being a Christian. Too often, the money gets in the way of the life we are called to live. I remember hearing a story about a man who was committed to tithing during his younger years. As he grew older, that became increasingly more difficult because of his bills and the large salary he was making. Troubled by this, he asked his pastor out to lunch to discuss it. He was very upfront and honest with his pastor, saying that since he now made about $300,000 per year, $30,000 was a lot of money to give to the church. The pastor could understand the enormous burden this placed on the man. So he offered to lift this up in prayer: "Dear God, please reduce this man's salary until he can once again afford to tithe." The man cut him off mid-prayer in hopes of finding a different solution to his problem.
***
Another illustration based on personal economics comes from a newspaper article asking people how much more they would need to make to be satisfied. You might be surprised to hear that the average amount was 20%. People were not looking to double or triple their income -- they only wanted 20%. The problem is, a 20% increase is typically more than the average person will see in a given year -- and yet we can visualize 20%. I can't visualize what it would be like to earn a starting pitcher's salary, but I can visualize 20% more -- which means, according to the article, that most people are in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction with how much they make. Discontentment is virtually universal. Even Rockefeller himself, with all of his fortune, was asked once, "How much is enough?" His answer was, "When I get a little more." Based on this, you can see why the people asked Jesus to leave them -- even today. We are consumed with that 20%, and not with the kingdom of God.
***
For being quiet enough to hear that still, small voice, one of my favorite illustrations is about the truck driver hauling two tons of canaries. At every stoplight, the driver would get out of his truck, run around it, and hit the sides with a baseball bat. After seeing this for several miles, another driver following this trucker finally got out of his car at the next stop light to ask him what he was doing. Frantically, the trucker said that he had two tons of canaries in his semi. Unfortunately, the truck could only carry one ton of cargo. That meant he had to keep one ton of canaries in the air at all times. (It's similar to the old act of spinning plates.)
***
Frederick Speakman tells the story of an endearing and rather sad character in a small Pennsylvania mining town: the town drunk. Week in and week out, the drunk could be found on the sidewalk, sleeping off the last night's excess. His clothes were shabby, his behavior less than socially acceptable, but the people tolerated him.
Once a year, in the summer, things would change. Summer was when the tent-meeting revival came to town. In the front row, every year, sat the town drunk. And every year, on the last night of the revival, he would walk down the aisle and promise the whole community that he would change.
The man wasn't being false. For the next few weeks he wouldn't go near a bar. His threadbare clothes would look a little neater. He would enter into the life of the town, going to church, attending social functions. But every year a strange thing happened: no one would talk to him. He made them uncomfortable. The people found a reformed town drunk much harder to handle than an unreformed one. They needed a symbol of failure, living evidence that human beings cannot be reformed, that they themselves would not have to face the fearful prospect of new life. Every year, a few weeks after the revival had moved on, the drunk would be back in the bar, and sleeping on the streets again.
He is a tragic figure. Yet even more tragic are the good Christian citizens of that little town -- people who were so afraid of change that when they saw healing and wholeness incarnate before them, they could only fear it.
***
Sometimes there are more important things than economics.
Fred Craddock tells of visiting an old high-school buddy many years ago, who ran a small restaurant back in their hometown in Tennessee. The man's name was Buck. On one of Fred's visits back, Buck suggested they go out for coffee.
"What's the matter?" asked Fred. "Isn't this the restaurant?"
"I don't know," said Buck. "Sometimes I wonder."
So they went someplace else for coffee. After a while, Buck asked his preacher friend, "Did you see the curtain?"
"Buck, I saw the curtain. I always see the curtain."
What he meant by curtain is this: They have a number of buildings in that little town; they're called shotgun buildings. They're long buildings and have two entrances, front and back. One's off the street, and one's off the alley, with a curtain and the kitchen in the middle. His restaurant is in one of those. If you're white, you come off the street; if you're black, you come off the alley.
Buck said, "Did you see the curtain?"
Fred said, "I saw the curtain."
Buck said, "The curtain has to come down."
Fred said, "Good. Bring it down."
Buck said, "That's easy for you to say. Come in here from out of state and tell me how to run my business."
Fred said, "Okay, leave it up."
Buck said, "I can't leave it up."
Fred said, "Well, then take it down."
"I can't take it down." Buck was in terrible shape. After a while he said, "If I take that curtain down, I lose a lot of my customers. If I leave that curtain up, I lose my soul."
-- Fred Craddock, Craddock Stories (Chalice Press, 2001), p. 61
***
Anthony DeMello tells a parable of a man who is romantically interested in a woman. After months of his pursuing her, she finally agrees to a rendezvous. Here is what happens:
"At that time and place the lover finally found himself beside his beloved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of love letters that he had written to her over the past months. They were passionate letters, expressing the pain he felt and his burning desire to experience the delight of love and union. He began to read them to his beloved. The hours passed by and he read on and on.
"Finally the woman said, 'What kind of a fool are you? These letters are all about you and your longing for me. Well here I am sitting with you at last and you are lost in your stupid letters.'
" 'Here I am with you,' says God, 'and you keep reflecting about me in your head, talking about me with your tongue, and searching for me in your books. When will you shut up and see?' "
Sometimes we need to set aside our theology, and even our Bibles, and simply listen for the still, small voice.
***
Sometimes we're like Elijah on Mt. Horeb. When things don't go the way we want them to, it's all too easy for us to pull back, to hide out, to go somewhere where we can feel sorry for ourselves, somewhere where we can lick our wounds and have us a "pity party" -- even where we can wish, like Elijah, that we could die -- forgetting that our Lord is still the Lord of all creation, that he has called us to be his people and to do the work of his kingdom with him, and that he is with us, leading us and strengthening us and guiding us. And forgetting that we are part of a community of faith, all down through the ages, that surrounds us like a great cloud of witnesses.
So what does the Lord do about the sulking, fearful Elijah? He sends an angel to tell him to quit feeling sorry for himself and to get up and get ready to take a journey, because the Lord has work for him to do -- and he'd better quit moping and start eating the food the angel has prepared for him or he won't have the strength to make the 40-day trip the Lord has planned for him.
***
Our Lord calls us, as he called Elijah and so many others, to move beyond our self-centeredness, to move beyond our concern mainly for ourselves. Theologian Hans Kung writes:
In everything that we think, say and feel, do and suffer, we tend quite naturally to protect, shield, advance ourselves, to cherish ourselves. And now we are expected to give exactly the same care and attention to our neighbor. With this all reserves are broken down. For us, who are egoists by nature, it means a radical conversion....
It certainly does mean the orientation of ourselves toward others: an alertness, an openness, a receptivity for our fellow [humans], a readiness to help without reserve. It means living not for ourselves, but for others: in this -- from the standpoint of the person who loves -- is rooted the indissoluble unity of undivided love of God and unlimited love of neighbor.
-- Hans Kung, On Being a Christian (Doubleday, 1976), p. 257
***
To give and not to take,
that is what makes us human.
To serve and not to rule,
that is what makes us human.
To help and not to crush,
that is what makes us human.
To nourish and not to devour,
that is what makes us human.
And, if need be, to die and not to live,
that is what makes us human.
Ideals and not deals,
that is what makes us human.
Creed and not greed,
that is what makes us human.
-- a paraphrase of Peter Maurin by Sabra McKenzie-Hamilton, The Catholic Worker (May 2007), p. 6
WORSHIP RESOURCES
by Thom M. Shuman
Call to Worship
Leader: When we long for the special effects we think life should offer:
People: it is enough, for us, that God comes in a soft, summer shower.
Leader: When we our hearts are cracked by the drought of doubt:
People: it is enough, for us, that God opens up the fountains of faith for us.
Leader: When our senses are deadened by the sales pitches of our culture:
People: it is enough, for us, that God wraps us in the silence of grace.
Prayer of the Day (and Our Lord's Prayer)
When we feel compelled to push everything to its limits, especially you, Holy One,
it is enough that your grace can slow us down.
When we stand naked and exposed to the buffeting winds of our doubts and questions,
it is enough, Healing Servant, that you clothe us in your peace and put our minds at ease.
When we are entangled in that legion of worries and fears which consume our lives,
it is enough, Spirit of Silence, that you untie the knots and set us free.
It is enough, God in Community, Holy in One,
that you are with us even as we pray as Jesus has taught us, saying,
Our Father . . .
Call to Reconciliation
We long to be set free from those "powers" which control our lives;
to let go of our fears of "them";
to stop trying to build fences between us and those who are not like us.
That is why our longing brings us to the living waters offered by our God,
who allows us to fill our parched souls with a refreshing drink of forgiveness.
Let us confess our sins, as we pray together, saying . . .
(Unison) Prayer of Confession
Like children, we fear that if we tell you what we have done, God of Justice,
you might not love us any more.
We can kill the dreams of those around us with a word, spoken or withheld.
We can make the lives of our friends miserable, instead of sharing a miracle.
We are filled with that legion of temptations which only leave us
empty and wanting more.
Forgive us, Gracious Father.
Remind us that we are no longer sinners, but your children.
Baptized, we are clothed in the graciousness and faithfulness of Jesus Christ,
our Lord and Savior,
who came that we might be set free of all that imprisons us.
(silent prayers may be offered)
Assurance of Pardon
Leader: God forgives us, so we might be new people.
God equips us, so we might serve others.
God sends us forth, so we might be a witness to everyone we meet.
People: No one is the same:
enemies are now our friends;
those we could not trust now become our confidants;
those we could not hear now speak to us of God's hope and joy.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
CHILDREN'S SERMON
Elijah and the Voice
1 Kings 19:11-12
Elijah was a messenger of God. One day the word of the Lord told him, "Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord." Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord.
(Pass a large sea shell or empty jar, inviting the children to take turns listening to the noise. Ask the others, while they are waiting, to put the palms of their hands on their ears and push, hearing the sound inside themselves. As they listen, continue telling the story.)
And after the wind came an earthquake. The ground shook and broke open, but the Lord was not in the wind nor the earthquake. And after the earthquake came a fire, but after the fire, a sound of sheer silence.
(Pour water into the jar so the children can hear the "sheer silence.")
Talk together: What did Elijah hear? Sometimes the voice of the Lord, the Spirit of God, speaks in silence. Have you ever heard a "silent" voice? Have you ever prayed with a silent voice? Pretend you are at the seashore and the bright sun is coming up over the water, or it's the end of the day and you watch the sunset, the sky painted pink. Have you ever said, "Thank you, God," silently?
Prayer: Let us pray now in sheer silence. (Pray silently.) Amen.
(From Story Time at the Altar, by Elaine M. Ward, CSS Publishing Co., 2003)
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The Immediate Word, June 24, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
