Healing The Great Divides

A sermon preached by the Rev. Roger Scott Powers at Light Street Presbyterian Church in Baltimore, on Sunday, June 24, 2007

Galatians 3:23-29; Luke 8:26-39

This morning's reading from the gospel of Luke tells the story of Jesus healing a man possessed by demons. The story may be a little hard for us to relate to today, since we don't put much stock in the existence of demons anymore. We've relegated demons to the fictional work of horror films -- "The Exorcist," for example. But if you or someone you love has had to struggle with an addiction or with mental illness, you may be able to appreciate how such maladies could be attributed to demons back in the first century. Long before the existence of medicine or psychology, demons offered a way of describing invisible, destructive forces that seemed to have the power to take control of peoples' lives.

The man in today's story had apparently been seized by demons many times. And during these episodes, the man's behavior had been such that his community must have felt pretty threatened, because they felt it necessary to banish him from the city. He was forced to the outskirts of the city, to a graveyard, the tombs, to live among the dead. And the community did its best to keep him isolated there. They bund him with chains and shackles and kept him under guard.

Upon meeting the man, Jesus commanded the demons, who called themselves "Legion," to come out of him. But the demons begged Jesus not to order them to go back into the abyss, but instead to enter a herd of pigs that were feeding nearby. No sooner had Jesus given them permission than the demons left the man, entered the pigs, and the pigs rushed into the lake and drowned.

The man was healed. He was back in his right mind. He was given some clothes to wear. And he sat at Jesus' feet, ready to follow him wherever Jesus might lead. But Jesus told him to return to his home in the city and to tell people how much God had done for him. Jesus not only healed him but also sought to restore the man's place in the community.

Now, you might expect the people in the community to have been happy for the man who was healed and to have thanked Jesus for freeing him from his affliction. But instead, the community was filled with fear. Jesus had disrupted the local order of things. He had upset the status quo. How was it that this man Jesus had the power to command demons, they wondered? What else was he capable of? How were the pig farmers to make a living after suffering such a catastrophic financial loss with the destruction of their herd? And how would the city go about reintegrating the healed man back into their society after treating him for so long as an outcast? This Jesus was too much for them. They asked Jesus to leave.

What about us? Do we welcome Jesus' ministry of healing and reconciliation? Or is Jesus too much for us as well? Does he challenge us too much? Does he disrupt our lives too much? Would we rather Jesus went away and left us alone, too?

Jesus' ministry was about healing -- the healing of individuals and the healing of communities. Sounds good on the face of it. But if that healing ultimately means changing the way we relate to one another, some of us might prefer to stick with the status quo.

I've been struck in recent weeks by how much our society remains divided by race and ethnicity. A Presbyterian church here in Baltimore with a predominantly African-American congregation recently performed an original play written by some of its members. It was advertised across the Presbytery of Baltimore. But when Susan and I attended a performance, we appeared to be the only white people there -- in an audience of one hundred.

A couple of weeks ago, Nancy Fayer and I attended a meeting of Christian pastors and lay leaders to discuss the growing homicide rate in Baltimore and what the religious community might do to address it. Again, we were part of a very small handful of white people at a meeting that was overwhelmingly African-American.

Our city is on track to exceed 300 homicides this year -- 25 more than last year. That's more homicides than some entire countries have in a year. And yet I've heard white people downplay it as "black-on-black" violence, as if that made the issue less of a concern. It's easier for the white community to deal with urban violence if it can be isolated to the black community. It's the equivalent of putting the man with demons in chains and shackles and leaving him a safe distance away.

Urban violence is a demon in our city as is the racism that hampers whites and blacks from working together to address the violence. But Jesus comes to our city offering healing. Jesus comes to our city offering hope. Jesus comes to our city offering peace and reconciliation.

As Paul reminds us "in Christ Jesus [we] are all children of God through faith ... There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of [us] are one in Jesus Christ." For Paul, Jesus is the great leveler. Jesus bridges the great divides of race, class, and gender. Jesus can heal us of the demons of racism, classism, and sexism. In Jesus Christ, there is no longer black or white, there is no longer rich or poor, there is no longer men and women. We are all one in Christ. We are all children of God.

Jesus invites us to live into that truth, to treat one another simply as human beings, to treat one another with fairness and equity, to see ourselves as sisters and brothers, members of one human family. Yes, of course, we have differences. But Jesus challenges us not to allow our differences to divide us. Rather, Jesus calls us to embrace our differences, to celebrate our diversity. Through Jesus, we see that we have far more in common with other people than we have in conflict. So, let us love one another as Christ has loved us.

Amen.