When the Spirit Needs a Bath (Reflections on Epiphany 4, Year B 2024)

 

²¹ They went to Capernaum, and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. ²² They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes. ²³ Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, ²⁴ and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” ²⁵ But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be quiet and come out of him!” ²⁶ And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. ²⁷ They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He^[a] commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” ²⁸ At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee. (Mark 1:21-28)

Okay, so just how exactly did all of this go down? Whenever I’ve read the above passage (our gospel lesson for Epiphany 4, Year B in the Revised Common Lectionary), I imagine Jesus just blithely preaching his interesting little homily when suddenly—BANG!—the doors of the synagogue burst open and some drooling, demon-possessed maniac rushes in and starts ranting at the Lord. This time, however, I’m really paying attention to that bit about his teaching them “as one having authority and not as their scribes.”

So maybe it happened like this. The good folks of Capernaum were used to getting their Sabbath lessons from scribes—guys specially trained to copy sacred texts. The scribes weren’t theologians themselves. Instead, they parroted the interpretations they heard from other rabbis and gave the folks the party line. I’m thinking that line was probably full of a lot of “Thou shalt nots.” There were reminders that Gentiles and Samaritans were icky. Good Jews should steer clear of them. They probably went on about eating good kosher diets, making proper sacrifices, and avoiding anybody suspected of being a sinner or in some way impure. I bet it was some pretty boring stuff week after week, but it made some folks feel comfortable and smugly superior to sinners, the infirm, and foreigners.

But, just when going to synagogue was becoming a lazy, zombie-like routine, along comes this guy Jesus. Jesus isn’t quoting any long-dead sage. He’s interpreting the scriptures in a new way. He’s preaching a living message about love, forgiveness, inclusion, and compassion. He’s lifting up the poor. He’s telling them God desires mercy more than ritual sacrifice. He’s telling them God is not distant but near them and among them.

And it’s pissing some folks off.

Some old geezer is sitting in the synagogue just fuming because he’s not hearing what he expects to hear. He’s getting his Fruit of the Looms in a bunch because this Nazarene rabbi is assaulting the conventions he’s always held ever since he was taught them in Hebrew school. He hears in the teaching of Jesus an attack on his idea of what it means to be a Jew and a follower of the Scriptures, and he doesn’t like it one little bit. Finally, he’s heard enough, and that unclean spirit of self-righteousness within him explodes. He shouts out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth??!! You’re not even from around here, and you’re tearing down everything we hold sacred! Have you come to destroy us? Who do you think you are—the Holy One of God??!!”

Well. As a matter of fact, he is the Holy One of God. And, as the Holy One of God, he’s not about to let a heckler throw him off his game. He calls out the unclean spirit—not condemning the man himself—but calls the spirit of fear, self-righteousness, arrogance, and complacency for what it is. Such spirits aren’t anything we ever give up without a struggle because having our convictions challenged always means a loss of part of our identity. We fear we won’t know who we are anymore when we’re forced to see things in a new way. Any attempt to get us to change our minds can be met with a convulsion.

When Pope John XXIII told Catholics they should say the mass in their native language and not in Latin, some folks had a convulsion. For a lot of folks, this change was just too much, and they reacted with an unclean spirit of defiance.

When the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod’s Concordia Seminary started to suggest that not every single word in the Bible should be taken literally, an unclean spirit of denial and oppression arose among the denomination’s leadership which ripped that communion apart.

When the ELCA’s 2009 Churchwide Assembly declared LGBTQ+ people could be qualified for ordained ministry, an unclean spirit of rebellion broke out, and many congregations walked away from the national church body.

Whenever our long-held beliefs are challenged, whenever we sense an existential threat to our identity, we go into convulsions and our unclean spirits percolate to the surface. Asking some Americans to confront the injustices of the past or to embraces policies which aid those they feel are undeserving is causing a massive convulsion in our land. How do we address this?

We must always remember that Jesus rebukes the spirit, but never the person. It’s the spirit—the outmoded ideas, the stubbornness, the arrogance—which is unclean, but there are no unclean people. We must rely on the authority of Jesus. We must lean on Christ’s teaching of love of enemies, compassion for the poor, and repentance leading to absolution and healing. Technology, culture, and institutions change, but the authority of Christ remains constant.

And let’s try to be aware of our own spirits. Sometimes they could use a good bath in the words of Jesus.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.