I was bolting down a panini at my desk
last Sunday afternoon, trying to get some nourishment in between Sunday mass and
an afternoon funeral for a 34-year-old neighborhood guy who’d died of a drug
overdose. The phone on my desk rang, and a lady on the other end asked, “Do you
do memorial services?” I thought she wanted to know about the service I was
about to do, but she explained she was calling for her daughter who had been
found dead of an overdose that morning.
Overdoses. I don’t even count them
anymore. I’ve buried so many young people from this neighborhood that I can’t
keep track of them. Opioid addiction—the modern form of demonic possession—has touched
my congregation, and I feel like the whole neighborhood needs an exorcism.
The Gospel lesson assigned for Pentecost
2, Year C in the RCL (Luke 8: 26-39) is the familiar story of Jesus travelling
across the Sea of Galilee to a foreign land where he encounters a man possessed
by evil spirits. These spirits cause the man to do some pretty crazy things. He
can’t live among civilized folks anymore. He’s an outcast, openly courting
death. Nobody can control this guy because the devils in him give him power to break
the fetters that well-meaning people have chained him with in order to keep him
safe from himself. Whether this demon is a supernatural force or a shot of
smack, the behavior is the same.
There are some powerful things in this
story. The first that strikes me is the fact that Jesus and the disciples have
gone out of their way into unfamiliar territory. The country of the Gerasenes
is Gentile country. The people keep pigs—an unclean animal to a pious Jew. It’s
a pretty daring thing to go and offer ministry and healing in a weird and
dangerous place where your society says the folks don’t deserve your help. But
that’s what Jesus does.
The second powerful thing is that—even though
this demoniac angrily rejects Jesus’ help (v. 28)—the power of God is still
stronger than the power of the demon. This poor guy seems to be so used to
being screwed-up that he’s uncomfortable with being whole. Nevertheless,
healing is possible through Jesus. The desire for life is greater than the self-destructive
demon. There is always forgiveness, love, and purpose that can bring us to
sanity.
Unfortunately, doing the right thing has
its cost. The Gerasenes aren’t easy with change. They’d gotten used to pitying
and reviling their deranged neighbor, and they don’t like the fact that Jesus
has altered him. That’s just a little too bizarre for their taste. They’re
also, I’m sure, not crazy about the demons causing the swine to drown
themselves (vv. 31-33). It cost too much to get this man well, and they don’t
want to pay for it.
Maybe we don’t want to pay for wholeness,
either. No Philadelphia neighborhood is going out of its way to welcome a safe
injection site, even though such a site may save lives and help addicts
recover. We’re much more comfortable with shackles and chains—lock up the
junkies, don’t try to heal them.
As Christ’s church, I think it’s time we
do something to try to cast this
demon of addiction out of our midst. Over a year ago Dr. Umar Farooq of the
Muslim Youth Center of Philadelphia suggested a neighborhood-wide effort to
educate people on the opioid crisis. I’m hoping that Faith Lutheran and the
MYCP can pool resources to promote such an educational event. Like Jesus, we
are willing to reach out to those who are not of our faith in order to bring
peace and healing. Yes, I anticipate it will cost money and there will be push-back
from some. If we are successful, however, we might save a life and show the
neighborhood that people of good will can work together for the common good.
We are just now beginning discussions with
our Muslim neighbors to see what kind of a program we can provide. I’ll let you
know more as things progress. In the meantime, thanks for reading and may God
keep you and all your loved ones safe from the demons.
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