In my interview with David Swanson, he responded that that one of the ways that he has grown as he has approached the problem of racism was the recognition of racism as a profound spiritual struggle. Here’s what he shared: Watch the interview from 52:18-55:10 (https://www.trinitycovenant.org/what-jesus-does). David’s connection of racism to the realm of the demonic was an interesting and thoroughly Christian one and one that I would like to explore in greater depth over the next two Sundays. How might such a discussion help inform us Biblically about how to engage the problem of racism? And while he quotes one story about Jesus and a stubborn demon that only comes out through prayer and fasting, I would like to look at another exorcism story that holds great insight for us – the story of the Gerasene demoniac – as we seek to understand and tackle the problem of racism (Mark 5:1-20).
The first thing I want to tell you is that Jesus steps out of boats and into tombs. (vs. 1)
Now boats are very important to Jesus – he calls a number of fisherman who use them, they help transport him from place to place, they provide food for his group through fishing, and even serve as a floating platform from which to speak –boats are helpful, familiar and maybe even fun. I wonder if in their many cruises around the Sea of Galilee if conversations didn’t arise that went something like this. Peter says, “You know guys. We’re in this boat a lot. I wonder if we couldn’t make it a bit more comfortable. The Master was a carpenter – maybe we could put in some benches, or maybe even some bunks.” “Yea,” John, jumps in. “We could make it bigger so that it’s easier to sleep.” Andrew pipes up, “Hey, how about a kitchen with a coffee maker. I mean we could make sandwiches and try some wake boarding– that’d be cool.” And Jesus wept.
Okay – that didn’t happen. But hey I’m a preacher at heart and we always wonder about things like that! But we get the sentiment, right? One of the most destructive things to happen to any church is when we refuse to step out of them or imagine places or topics where Jesus supposedly would not go, like this difficult discussion about racism. But the Christian life is NOT a life at sea but on the land. And not a comfortable journey but which deliberately walks through tombs. Our church buildings are to be ferries not cruise ships - to be transports and platforms for ministry because Jesus will always step out of them – always! He’s interested in the cities, the wild places, the tombs. That’s what’s being stressed – as we will soon see - Jesus is going into the “unclean” place of paganism, militarism, and exploitation. Jesus did it then – what makes you think he won’t do that now?
When Jesus steps out of the boat and into the tombs– is when ministry begins. And immediately, he encounters a man out of the tombs with an unclean spirit.
But before Mark says what Jesus does he wants to recount how society dealt with him. How the man had been handled with chains and shackles used to restrain him “hand and foot . . . among the tombs.” But I think it’s important to acknowledge that Mark wants to highlight the inability for chains to work, to heal and to transform this wounded individual who howls at night and bruises himself with stones. One is supposed to get the idea that the chains are part of the problem.
Some chains don’t work on demons. (vss. 2-5)
What are examples of broken chains that have been used to stop the demon of racism that haven’t worked? Before, we move toward a context of healing – it’s important to recognize well-meaning strategies that have proven ineffective. I’ll talk about two.
One of the ineffective strategies or failed chains has to be white silence and ignoring the injuries and cries of people of color in pain. This strategy assumes that not talking about racism or denying its reality will make it go away. In our story, one gets the idea that, after so many failed attempts, the town folk have simply decided to ignore the hurting man and his endless crying “day and night.” On a recent Barna poll, Christians were asked, “Do you think our country has a race problem?” 81% of African American Christians said, “Definitely.” 55% of Hispanic Christians said, “Definitely.” Only 33% of White Christians said, “Definitely.” Friends, we can have a discussion about how to go about dealing with racial injustice. We can even disagree about the merit of different strategies. We cannot, however, dismiss, such overwhelming numbers of injured, Christian brother and sisters who “cry” in the tombs. To say that you don’t hear their cries, to say you don’t want to get involved because it’s too political, to pretend that it’s not your problem will not heal us or others of this demon. Denial is not an effective problem against demons. By the way, it’s not just racism that silence is ineffective for. Silence is always ineffective when dealing with sin and demons but this remains a chain that white churches still try. I once asked a pastor friend who pastors a multi-racial church how white Christians and Christians of color in his church responded differently in worship. He said, “My white folk are great at praising God but utterly silent about their own struggles in need of prayer. My black folk don’t have that problem.” So part of our rediscipling must be the refusal to be silent about the sin and demons that affect us. Friends, we all cry in the tombs, we are all beset by demons.
Another ineffective strategy or failed chain is to hyper-individualize the problem. What’s also interesting is that the text repeatedly acknowledges that no individual could solve the problem (vss. 3-4): “no one could bind him anymore”; “no one was strong enough.” Another way in which White Christians have dealt with the problem of racism is to focus solely on their own personal thoughts or actions as the means for addressing racism. It’s common for people to say, “I’m color blind. I don’t recognize differences between people.” Or, “I’m not a racist. I don’t use racial slurs or burn crosses or say hateful things.” A 1995 survey asked, “Would you close your eyes for a second, envision a drug user, and describe that person to me?” The Journal of Alcohol and Drug Education published the results. Despite the fact that a strong majority of drug users are white, most respondents – 95 percent – pictured African Americans. Yet, only 15 percent of drug users at that time were black, which is roughly the case still today. Studies have shown that whites are more likely to use and deal drugs. White youth in particular are seven times more likely to use cocaine and heroin than black youth, and three times more likely to sell drugs. Despite these facts, the U.S. census shows that African Americans represent the vast majority of drug offenders sent to prison – for every 100,000 people in a group 2,306 Black people are incarcerated for drug offenses while only 450 White people are incarcerated for drug offenses. So, on the one hand, we see that apart from individual decisions to not be racist there is an implicit bias which impacts our reality. On the other hand, that individual bias can also have a profound social impact, as well. So individual intent is important but not enough to ensure that racial justice occurs.
We now should address the topic of demons. At this point, I wish to do something that doesn’t often happen in sermons. I would like to open a conversation with you about racism as something demonic. I would like us to read the scriptures together, listen attentively to them and one another prayerfully, and gently engage one another over the next two weeks. What are we to make of the legion of demons? How might it be helpful to consider racism as something more akin to the demonic rather than simply sin? To do that, we need to ask:
So, who or what is Jesus encountering in this passage? What’s affecting this man? We need to read closely.
Our text says twice that the man had an “impure spirit” (vss. 2 and 8) which later is revealed to be “impure spirits (vss. 12-13) a “legion, for we are many” (vs. 9). The man also lives in an unclean place, among the graves, often harms himself with stones, howling with pain, and is capable of impressive feats of strength (breaking shackles and chains, vss. 3-4). The demons (or is it the man) also recognize who Jesus is, are afraid of him, and beg him not to be sent “out of the country” but into a herd of pigs, which Jesus grants causing two thousand pigs to hurtle themselves off a cliff to drown in the lake. And if that sounds like a simple explanation for what you believe to be personal, spiritual agents who harm people and seek to thwart God’s kingdom, let’s look a bit deeper.
We should also remember that our exorcism has a social and political context. This is Jesus’ first entry into a Gentile region - the Decapolis, ten Greek cities, enlarged by Alexander the Great and settled by Macedonian military veterans. It boasted a temple to Zeus which, interestingly, used pigs for sacrifice, and also had a temple dedicated to the cult of Caesar. This region had been sacked and occupied by a variety of kingdoms (Ptolemies, Seleucids, even the Jews and Herod), and finally by the Romans, whose control they were under requiring tribute and forced military conscription. It was a history of forced, militarized violence and economic oppression. I find it interesting that the demons refer to themselves in Latin as a Roman military unit – a “legion” could be upwards to six thousand soldiers – one of the most disciplined military formations the world has ever known. It was a world, in other words, of oppressive religious, political and militarized forces. I also am intrigued by the notion that the demons don’t want to be forced “out of the country,” speaking like an occupying force.
Furthermore, I want to notice the complicated way in which Mark writes about the demon possessed man – who is speaking?, for example. It is the man who howls at night and hurts himself and begs Jesus not to torment “me” (vs. 7). “He” addresses Jesus, speaks as demons who beg Jesus and refer to themselves as “us” and yet in vs. 10 it is the man who “begs” Jesus not to send “them” out of the country. So there is strange switching back and forth between different subjects (singular and plural), making it not always clear who is speaking, sometimes in the same sentence.
So what is going on here? Is this a story of sinister, spiritual agents possessing an individual, is this mental illness caused by a long history violence and oppression, or is there a middle ground of complex, distorted spiritualities that are greater than individual trauma or brain chemistry but not exactly personal beings. I’m not entirely sure. Regardless, these are forces that do not align with God’s intent for his creation. This man was broken in every way possible: from God, himself, others, and the rest of creation. He is dominated by forces that the New Testament clearly identify as spiritual, which cut off from the basic needs of community and creation – friends, clothes, food, etc. Regardless, of what we think they are – they are both spiritual and real! Even if we can’t exactly determine or agree upon what these forces are, why should we keep talking about them? And how will that help us?
Our strategy for working toward racial justice requires a gospel big enough to address people and demons, both our individual racial prejudice (which affects everyone) as well as the systemic abuse of powers and principalities (which often affects those with low social power). To see this reality, picture racism like an iceberg.
What this image shows is the truth that institutional racism is a multifaceted problem that is personal and corporate, visible and invisible, explicit and implicit, and represents real historical trauma. Paul wrote about invisible powers and principalities that are at work in our world (Eph. 6:12). Flesh and blood people, spiritual entities, as well as structural and collective systems form what the Bible calls “this present darkness.” Join us next week as we look at particular ways in which this story can help us think as Christians about racism.
----------------------------------------- End of Sermon
One / Beginning of Sermon Two
Last week we began exploring Jesus’ exorcism ministry as a deeply Christian perspective for helping us think about racism. I’ve suggested to you that racism is certainly sinful but also demonic – about distorted spiritual forces outside of ourselves which warp individuals and communities, preying upon people, harming them. And we saw last week that “this present darkness,” as Paul will it, which includes racism, is challenging and complicated. There are multiple victims and multiple agents – legions, we learn. Sometimes we’ve been the town folk who have tried to use ineffective chains to deal with these demons and the demon-harassed. Other times, we ourselves are the ones who the demons victimize. But, I have good news. The demons don’t win, Jesus does, and as followers of Jesus we are called to this same ministry of exorcism (Luke 9:1-6). Our series on racism, “To Do What Jesus Does,” is all about following Jesus, to become like Jesus, in order to do what Jesus does. And Jesus, it turns out is waging an all out war on demons. And that’s messy, public, scary, and uncomfortable, but a part of what we are called to do. Last week we talked about the story in depth. This week, I’d like for us to consider how it helps us follow Jesus and move toward being anti-racist.
How does this story help us think about racism and our role as agents of God’s kingdom for reconciliation?
1. To talk about racism, and white supremacy as demonic frees us from the temptation to demonize. To demonize, of course, is essentially a reverse exorcism. It doesn’t free people from demons but turns them into demons. It’s when we don’t see people as being harassed and harmed but as those who should not be loved or helped. A couple of years ago, an editorial writer in Santa Barbara wrote an op-ed piece about homelessness in which he likened people on the streets to “filthy pigeons” and “zombies . . .lurching forward, arms outstretched, in our faces, asking for money.” It’s not hard to imagine the results of such language. Zombies, like demons, can’t and shouldn’t be helped – they are humans not victimized by demons so much as demons who seek to victimize us. So we should be careful when our focus on evil has us looking at people AS demons. When we do that we often no longer see them as ones whom God loves, whom he seeks to free, but evil itself. What if they are beset upon by demons? And demons distort people’s vision of what God wants to accomplish. The man runs up to Jesus and says an outlandish thing for anyone who knows who Jesus is. “Don’t torture me,” he begs. Jesus doesn’t torture people and neither should we. So we are to love everyone in this difficult discussion about racism. And while that love might not always be expressed in the same way, it must always be our motivation. How do we do that practically? What’s Jesus’ strategy? We refuse to demonize people by listening to them. After entering into the tombs, the first thing that Jesus does is to ask the person his name (vs. 9 – the “your” is singular). He wants to listen. We must affirm a deep commitment to listening to others even when it’s hard. To listen like Jesus demands that we: 1. Leave our world. Let go of the familiar, take the risk and step out of the boat. We must leave the “filter bubble,” that algorithm on Facebook that creates an echo chamber for people to see only the content they would most likely agree with. 2. Enter into someone else’s world. Practice active, humble, and curious listening. Too often we equate listening with agreement, we would rather be right than open our hearts to people in pain, and we reduce people to their worst belief. To enter into someone’s world is to listen first for people’s pain. David Swanson wrote: “Those who have suffered the worst of racism deserve our sustained attention.” It’s interesting that Jesus first doesn’t go to the town folk, the majority, but to the one who is hurting. When it comes to conversations on race, our level of offendability often reveals the level of our maturity. 3. Refuse to hate because people can be liberated and transformed. Hate simply makes demons. The Christian vision of people is that Jesus can transform anyone – even the most racist. And while that doesn’t mean that we have to be milk-toasty sweet and with huge grins and accepts racist behavior with a wink, it does mean that we acknowledge that racism, not people, is demonic.
2. To connect racism and the demonic helps us love others by challenging blame and hyper-individualism. Mark, we saw, is trying to document the complexity of relationship between the man and the demons. We already noticed that in vss. 7-9 we have this utterly bizarre movement between personal pronouns – “I” and “He” which are the demon(s) and another time which is the man. Truth is, we can’t actually always sort out who is speaking. We need to define the problem of racism of our world in ways that acknowledge that all people are both responsible agents and victims at the mercy of powers and principalities far larger than their own individual decisions. To talk about racism as demonic is to acknowledge that decision-making is difficult and prone to a variety of forces outside of our own control – whether that means implicit bias, cultural upbringing, or economic forces, that prey upon our lives. A quick example: Researchers showed groups of white people a video, asking them to evaluate the “quality of the neighborhood.” They were shown the same street but in one scene white people were walking down the sidewalk, in the other, black people were on the sidewalk. Guess which neighborhood was judged as the better place to live? As a white person, to speak of demons enables me to long for liberation by acknowledging that forces outside of my own choices, distort my vision and understanding. I’m not saying that people don’t have some personal responsibility for racist language or behavior – everyone does, even those beset upon by demons – but we need to enter into that complexity with humility and grace. We will never be able to be agents of good news if we always understand individual choices as the primary cause for the problems people face. Nor will we be good exemplars of the gospel if we are to imagine that systemic forces are the only problem. Jesus saves and transforms peoples and is Lord of the universe. He wants people made whole and demons kicked out. So we need to think critically and theologically about individual choice and the forces that impact people’s lives. And we need to recognize that we will never be the compassionate people we need to be if blaming others for their plight is our only or primary understanding of the human condition.
3. To talk about demons and racism reveals the inner and outer realities of God’s salvation.
Our passage reminds us that spiritual warfare, racism and God’s salvation– engaging those struggling with demons – involves more than freeing people from inner spiritual torments but also outer spiritual ones, as well, like racial profiling, housing discrimination, even police brutality. When the man is freed from the demons he is found “clothed and in his right mind” (vs. 15). Now, it used to be that people taught that Jesus got rid of the demons but would leave them naked – evangelism without social justice. Others have said that Jesus wouldn’t worry about the demons but only the man’s nakedness – social justice without evangelism. But demonic evil in this story is not just personal inner oppression but also outer structural evil, which leaves this man, burdened by broken chains, naked and in the tombs, as well. Only by confronting both the inner and outer worlds of people’s lives will we inhabit the exorcism ministry of Jesus. If you’ve tended to think of anti-racism as only about how personal salvation, I challenge you to expand how you think about the gospel. But if you imagine that our battle is simply about addressing social injustices, I want you to expand your vision, too. Without Jesus’ death and resurrection, without personal conviction to follow Jesus, we will not be able to engage this battle. So we need to be careful of avoiding two extremes: on the one hand a spiritual dualism which separates the world into the spiritual and physical spheres with the former being the more real world and the latter something that will simply waste away. On the other hand, we need to avoid a materialism or politic that knows nothing of an inner dimension or spiritualness of human beings. Both are blind to evil’s full effect and to God’s full salvation. So for Christians the move that is faithful is not from the material to the spiritual but rather from materialism to incarnation. Incarnation is the Church’s way of speaking about Spirit dwelling in matter. Salvation, true liberation, is always incarnational not just about spirit but the spirit of our stuff, not just about our soul but the soul of our entire self which includes our bodies, not merely about individuals but, as we shall see, about whole communities.
But now a simple question, “how did the man get clothed?”
4. Being anti-racist is always about restoring people to a community that cares and collaborates.
Once Jesus cast out the demons I imagine a chaotic scenario much like this: He’s shivering, hurt, and naked. “Hey Peter, what size shirt do you wear?,” Jesus asks. “A large.” “All right, let’s have it.” “James, you have an extra set of pants pass them over. Who has shoes? What about something to eat?” I imagine that little bunch of disciples gathered around this man, forming a human dressing room, and clothing him. Real exorcism will always demand for a collaboration to care as a community. We need each other to solve this problem. We need partnership over partisanship.
And Jesus’ advice to the released man is a helpful ending – “Go home to your friends” (vs. 19). Friendship in Jesus’ name is the solution to the evangelical divide between evangelism and social justice. Because friends don’t let friends sleep outside, friends don’t let friends walk among tombs alone or place them in chains, friends value what you have to say and know your name, and see you as more than a rebellious sinner but also one enslaved by forces outside your control. Friends should challenge you – your thinking, your behavior, but not chain you. Befriending those who walk alone, cry at night, maybe even hurt themselves, and restoring them to community IS spiritual warfare. When we offer our lives to Jesus and seek to love our neighbor as ourselves, we are facing off with demons. When we befriend those struggling with demons, when we befriend one another in Jesus’ name, the demons tremble. Demons always want you alone.
5. To talk about demons and racism is to talk about the soul of a community. It demands that we ask, “what kind of community are we created to be?” (look at this image)
Our story ends with a spiritual battle between two communities. On the one hand, we have the community of disciples standing with Jesus who welcome, help and care for the newly released person. On the other hand, we have the people of the “city and in the country” who want Jesus to “leave their neighborhood” (vss. 14-17). This brings us back to the demons. Where did the demons go after the pigs go plop in the lake? I don’t know but Mark leaves us with an intriguing element that is worth pondering. Did you notice that the fearful demons who “beg” Jesus to go away resemble the people who chained the man and also “beg” Jesus to leave their neighborhood (vs. 17 – it’s the same word in Greek, parakaleo)! Is this group possessed by the legion or have they succumbed to a sinister demonic reality? Either way, I would suggest that their fear is demonic and pushes them to ask Jesus to leave. Healing people is fine but it cost them the pigs and when sin meets a dollar amount it always turns demonic and grows wings and claws. I just watched the film Dolores about Dolores Huerta who helped migrant farm workers push back against horrid and abusive work conditions promoted by big Agrobusiness. When her work had a financial ticket is when those broad forces turned violent to preserve their hold over people’s lives. Friends, there is a spiritual battle going on that harms brothers and sisters of color still, which has them crying “day and night” in the tombs. Will we live into Jesus ministry? Which community will we choose to be?
