Fighting words.
We’ve had to listen to them for
about two weeks now, and I don’t know about you, but I’m hoping they’ll come to
an end at about 6:30 this evening. I’ve heard enough about deflated footballs
to last me a lifetime. I realize it’s all part of the annual build-up to the
Super Bowl, and that it’s all intended to get us worked up about this
supposedly epic showdown, but all these press conferences and the silly back-and-forth
just seem like fighting words to me. I’m ready for some action.
Fighting words.
There were some on Capitol
Hill this week at a congressional hearing on global security. One Senator went
up against some protestors—called them low-life scum!—and had them and their
protest signs cast out of the room like a demon. The protesters, in turn,
responded with more fighting words in the newspapers. Come to think of it, there
are fighting words on Capitol Hill every week, which is a large part of the
problem up there. The spiteful rhetoric between our two political parties these
days makes every issue sound like it’s part of an endless confrontation between
good and evil, no matter whose side you stand on. Again, enough of the fighting
words. If it’s truly necessary, let’s see some action.
Fighting words are the first
thing Jesus hears as he tries to teach in the Capernaum synagogue. In fact,
fighting words are the first thing any human speaks to Jesus in the entire
gospel of Mark. “What have you to do with
us, Jesus of Nazareth?” asks the man who stumbles into the middle of Jesus’
lesson, interrupting it. In the original Greek, the man’s question sounds more
like, “What’s it to you and us?” which is exactly how many of us might pick a
fight with someone. “What’s it to you, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to
destroy us?”
We don’t have to wait long
for some action this time, however. Jesus immediately puts down what he’s
doing, addresses the confrontation, and throws the protesting scum out of the
man and out of the synagogue.
It is Jesus’ first day. He
has just called his first disciples. He is teaching his first lesson in his
first synagogue visit, and he is interrupted by these dark forces that were
possessing this man. It’s almost like they knew he was coming.
Truth be known, that is who
is doing all the talking here. This man is not in his right mind, and it is not
this man who is challenging Jesus. Something dark and disruptive has a hold on
him, and it is that dark and disruptive entity that Jesus casts out. If one of
the first things that Jesus hears is direct confrontation and challenge to his
power, one of the first things Jesus does is to free a soul from torment, to
separate the human from that which binds him.
Let’s be honest. Modern folk often don’t know what to do with
the demoniac. Cases like this seem like a relic from another time when science
and medicine were cruder. We’d certainly get out the clinical encyclopedia and diagnose
him with something else now. When director Franco Zeffirelli depicts this scene
in his 1977 epic Jesus of Nazareth, the
young man barges into the synagogue screaming, writhing around, and foaming at
the mouth as if he is having a grand mal seizure. That was his interpretation. Who
knows what kind of special effects we might add in nowadays, but it’s true that
we think demons and possessions are really something only for Hollywood to deal
with. In real life we often don’t know what to do with this “antiquated”
exorcism stuff, and we’re rightfully sheepish about labeling anyone or anything
anymore.
 |
| the entrance to Auschwitz concentration camp, which was liberated on January 27, 1945 |
However, if we are in doubt
that evil forces can grip the human psyche and cause terrible damage, if we
have a hard time believing that humankind is ever under siege by influences
that can only be described as demonic, we only need to be reminded of the
macabre, awful anniversary the world marked on Tuesday of this week and speak
with an Auschwitz survivor. Evil doesn’t always have to be spectacular in its
manifestation, writhing about on the temple floor, foaming at the mouth. Sometimes
it is remarkably mundane, made up of little dastardly acts that slowly build up
to something horrific.
No matter what it is or what
form it comes in, one thing is clear: these things do not get along with Jesus.
Ultimately they cannot exist in this world at the same time as him, and so just
as soon as he shows up they show up to protest.
It’s why we begin each
baptism with three clear renunciations. Before anyone is washed in the waters
and joined to Christ, we ask them questions like, “Do you renounce the devil
and all the forces that defy God?” “Do you renounce the powers of this world
that rebel against God?” It would
make for an interesting Sunday if someone suddenly answered “NO!” at that
point, but at least the truth would present itself. Joining to the side of
Jesus Christ, who rescues us from sin, who brings life and light to all the
world, whose Spirit empowers us to work for justice and peace would never be
appealing to a force that works to advance darkness and destruction.
Fighting words. It’s what
we’ll hear throughout the life of Jesus, but he will stay true to his mission, which
is to separate these forces from the people they enslave, to proclaim release
to those who can’t release themselves. He will never label anyone, but he will
be honest about that which corrupts us, addressing the demons head-on, and in
the most humble, self-giving way possible. This morning he rebukes gently, commanding
the unclean spirit to leave the young man. That will work for now, but
eventually he will let his own life be handed over to those forces of evil. On
the cross, fighting words turn to brutal action against Jesus. He will
demonstrate his authority over all that lays siege to humankind by letting all
our demons have their way with him. But he will rise. At length we begin to see
that no force will ever stand a chance against God’s unconditional love. No
words fight quite like words of mercy do.
Because the church speaks
with the authority of Jesus, it too can expect fighting words from time to
time. As people of faith attempt to embody his kind of love and forgiveness, they
will draw opposition. The life of faith is not a cake walk, and those who have
been claimed by these waters can expect hecklers. But like Jesus, we are driven
by the Spirit to respond with courageous action, to make the distinction
between the demon from the human, to cast out the former and love the latter. It
will be to remember the words of another in this country who confronted many
demons: As Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “Hate cannot drive out hate. Only
love can do that.”
All this talk of camp reminds
me of my first ever experience as a camp counselor at one of our other Lutheran
camps. It was 1993, and I was only 19. We had gone through 10 days of
orientation to learn the ropes before we were thrown into the Capernaum
synagogue to do some teaching to the kids. The only issue was that Sam barged
in to our area, a 4th grade boy who would do anything but listen and
follow rules. Day after day, he brought terror to our idyllic woodland
scenario. As the week wore on, it seemed to get worse: foul language, hitting,
biting…constant fighting words directed at us and at other young campers. He
was inconsolable.
 |
| Lutheridge, summer of 1993 |
It was hellish, and all of us
first-timers wondered if the whole summer would be like this. We wanted to send
him home, but when we looked at his paperwork, we made the discovery there was
no home to send him to. A child in foster care because of early childhood abuse
and neglect, he happened to be between homes that week. He made us counselors
so angry, but our director told us we
had to respond sternly, but gently. To be firm, but always loving, even when we
wanted to retaliate out of frustration. He was in the grip of dark forces we
could not understand.
It was an emotional week, but
by the time the case worker showed up on Saturday to pick him up—the last
camper to leave—he was hugging us and literally wouldn’t let go. Everyone was
weeping, because something had finally released the real Sam to us, who
eventually ended up being just as fun and silly as the other 4th
graders. A scholarship was found that enabled Sam come back for another week
later in the summer, and again the next year. Sam had experienced what we on
staff had taken for granted one too many time: that in our summer community
Jesus was at the center, and when that is the case, and forces of darkness and
evil and selfishness cannot abide there for long. They may come out of the
woodwork, spitting and foaming at the mouth, ready for a fight. But they find a
God who stands ready to love.
The same scenario plays
itself out, week after week, at our Lutheran outdoor ministries. Indeed, it is
a scene that is repeated each and every week in our congregations and in our
worship where Jesus word is proclaimed and the sacraments are celebrated. Love
driving out hate. Words that fight with mercy. One morsel of bread and splash
of water at a time, the Spirit helps us renounce the powers of this world that
rebel against God. And with an authority that reveals itself in weakness and
humility, God rebukes the demons in each of us to set us free.
When those forces approach,
asking in doubt and anger, drawing us in to combat with fighting words, “What’s it to you?” We can respond, with the
authority of God’s word: Life. Life
is what this is to us.
Thanks be to God!
The Reverend Phillip W. Martin, Jr.
No comments:
Post a Comment