PROPER 7-C, June 24, 2007

Today’s Gospel reading is one of those curious, nay, mysterious passages in the Gospels, at least it is for me. It is one fraught with more questions than answers, questions that still haunt us, and answers that are not forthcoming. That does not mean that we have no clue what the passage is about. It simply means, at least for me and perhaps for you, that there are more questions than answers, certainly satisfactory answers.

As the story goes, Jesus arrives in the country of the Gerasenes and encounters a man who has been possessed with demons of some sort for many, many years. He is so out of it, so out of control, so dangerous to others and even to himself that he is forced to live by himself. Even chains and shackles could not restrain him whenever the demons that possessed him took over his body.

When the boat Jesus and his disciples is traveling in lands on the shore, Jesus steps out and is immediately confronted by this man. At once compassionate Jesus takes charge. He takes note of the man’s illness and asks him his name. He receives a rather curious response and then releases him from his illness by sending the demons into a herd of swine. They, in turn, immediately commit suicide by rushing headlong over the hill and into the sea where they drown en masse.

As we read this passage or as we hear it read, many questions immediately come to mind. Well, I don’t know about you but many questions come to my mind. Questions like, "What kind of demons possessed the man?" "Why did the demons, which obviously were Jesus’s enemy, beg for some kind of mercy?" "Why did Jesus permit them to enter the property of someone else and then destroy that property?" And those questions are just for starters.

Yes, had I been the man possessed, I would have been extremely grateful for Jesus’s miracle. But if I had owned those pigs, I would have been mightily upset with Jesus because my livelihood was down the drain, drowned in the sea. I probably would have been on the phone to my lawyer ASAP.

It is difficult to make complete sense out of this incident and I do not presume to. In many ways, I think, this is one of those scenes in the life of Jesus that keeps us at a distance, that prevents us from getting so close to him that we think we have a handle on him. We do not and we never will. There will always be that mysteriousness, that awe, that reverence, if you will, that surrounds Jesus. There must always be. As soon as we think we have a handle on Jesus, he says or does something that makes us think at least twice, if not more.

That does not always give us satisfaction when we are trying to understand Jesus’s words and deeds. What this incident is for us, I think, is only one more reminder that we must never cease trying to understand Jesus or our faith in him. Like the parables, like everything else about our faith, we never stop growing and never stop learning until we experience the fullness of that faith in death.

Take Jesus’ miracles, for instance, like the one in today’s Gospel. There are only two responses to a miracle such as this one: awe or fear. Perhaps there is a third, which is a combination of both awe and fear, such was the response both of the man whom Jesus healed and the people of the town who arrived shortly after the miracle took place, after the swineherds rushed into town to tell everyone what they had just seen.

When one is in the presence of a miracle, there is always a response. One is never non-committal. One is forced to respond somehow in some way. It is only natural. Yes, yes, the sun rising every day, the birth of a child, the birds singing, etc., etc., etc., those are indeed miracles we observe every day and yet take so much for granted. I know for certain that I do, much to my loss. But when encountering a miracle of the sort the people in this Gospel story did, a possessed man suddenly healed, one has to respond.

And the people did: in fear. They were terrified to be in the presence of one so powerful, one who could command demons to depart. Again, that is natural. I suspect if I had been among that crowd, I would have been frightened out of my wits too, given the time and the circumstances. Who knows? I might have been first in line to ask Jesus to just go away and leave my friends and me alone.

If Jesus could do what he just did, what more could he do? What more might he know? He might know something about me that is embarrassing. He might do, well, God only knows what someone like that might do! It would be so much easier on everyone if he simply left and left well enough alone. I know it would certainly be easier on me, at least certainly less worrisome. I suspect I would have felt that way were I one of those townspeople and I suspect that is exactly how they felt and what they thought. They wasted no time in ushering Jesus back to his boat.

What is interesting, of course, is that the recipient of the miraculous deed was not in the least bit frightened. In fact, he was just the opposite: in awe. He could not believe what had happened to him. He wanted more. He wanted to find out more about this miracle worker, not so Jesus would do more for him but how he could do something in return. He wanted to give thanks for what had happened to him, which, of course, is the proper response to any miracle, once we overcome the awe or get over the fear.

Miracles happen all the time, life itself being the greatest miracle of all. Life brings with it responsibilities, which can make us fearful. Life is also wonderful in that we stand in awe of it all, of all of God’s creation and thus, of God. But we must not just stand there. We must give thanks by living our life as fully and as faithfully as we can. The man in the Gospel stood in awe of Jesus, but he did not simply stand there. As today’s Gospel concludes, he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him. So must we.

Today’s Gospel and today’s bulletin cover remind us that as Christians we are to be reverent in the sense that we stand back in awe of God and all of God’s creation, even as we both do not understand it all on the one hand and are overwhelmed by it all on the other. But, as with the man in the Gospel, our response is not to simply stand there, shake our heads in awe and reverence and do nothing. Our response is to give thanks by proclaiming how much God has done and continues to do for us, proclaiming not simply in word but in the way we live out our lives.

Living out, fulfilling, Matthew 25 is one way in which we respond to this awe and reverence that comes upon us when we reflect upon what God has done for us, how blessed we are, you and I. We are to use whatever gifts with which we have been blessed to see and seek and serve Jesus in everyone we meet. The man in the Gospel was blessed when he was healed. We are blessed in other ways. Neither he nor we deserve those blessings. Both he and we stand in awe of God’s love for us, in awe that God has chosen to bless us in so many ways.

Reverence and awe are not so much a state of being as a call for living, living our lives as faithfully and as fully as possible today and everyday. May we do so today.