FAME! I'm gonna live forever!
They went to Capernaum; and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazereth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” and the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching – with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” At once his fame began to spread through the surrounding region of Galilee.
Although there are a couple of spots where, in passing, Mark mentions Jesus’s power to cast out demons, Mark specifically records four particular exorcisms:
1:21-28 In the Synagogue in Capernaum
5:1-20 The Gerasene Demoniac
7:24-30 The Syrophonecian Woman’s Daughter
9:14-29 The Stubborn Demon v. Bumbling Disciples
Although all four stories can be grossly lumped together as offers of proof of Jesus’s authority, they each serve very different roles in the narrative flow of Mark’s gospel. I mean, you would think that an exorcism is an exorcism, right? Well, not exactly. Sometimes, the crowd stands in awe of the miraculous new teacher (1:27). Sometimes the crowds politely ask for Jesus to go exorcise some place else (5:17), while other times, Jesus can’t escape even for a quick meal (7:24). And sometimes, Jesus seems just flat-out tired, frustrated, and pissed off over the whole affair (9:19).
And all that is fitting. Throughout Mark, Jesus has an uneven relationship with the crowds. And I can imagine why. I witnessed an act of authority tonight. I was sitting in the cushy chair at Starbucks, facing out the huge glass walls in front, and watched a cop pull over a car full of teenagers in a battered old Oldsmobile. I couldn’t look away. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen a cop at work. It’s not like I’ve never seen teenagers treated with suspicion. No shocker there. But there is something morbidly attractive about it. We all hate being behind the rubber-neckers in traffic, but once we are up by the scene of the accident, we still can’t help but take a look. So, I kind of understand the reaction of the crowds. Sometimes we are simply attracted to the flashy lights, mesmerized, transfixed, numbed to where we don’t even notice that even the demons have figured out that Jesus’s presence is gonna mean some major changes in the order of things. I mean, a guy just fell screaming and writhing to the floor in a fit of liberation in the middle of the synagogue. The crowd’s reaction? “Wow, teaching with authority!”
REALLY?
I hope somebody was on the scene helping out the until-just-recently-possessed guy on the floor. I hope somebody was getting the guy a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. And I think I know why those guys aren’t in the story: this isn’t their story. This is the story of Jesus and his authority. And whether it is John crying out in the desert or a demon crying out in the synagogue, the secret is out. You can’t un-ring a bell.
OK, one more thing before we move on. Demons. There’s gonna be lots of them in Mark. I am not content to demythologize/modernize/sterilize Mark by saying that the folks possessed by “unclean spirits” were “merely” mentally disturbed or insane or something of that nature. Even if I was to do so, have I really changed the point of the story? Is it any less miraculous if Jesus is casting out “insanity” rather than demons? That’s still a handy skill if you ask me! What if there really were just that many demons? I mean, once you’ve accepted the idea that God cracked open a perfectly good sky to comment on Jesus’s baptism, is it really that far of a stretch to imagine that if demons exist at all, this might be the period of history where they’d be particularly interested in seeing what God was up to? Do I believe that actual, literal demons exist? Yep. Sure do. When a bus full of school children are ripped open by a terrorist’s bomb, I think a demon has been busy. When an affluent but neglected American teenager takes her life because she can’t imagine anything good ever happening again, a demon is there. When a child shows up on a milk carton. Fill in the blank. Pick a social evil. Even if a demon is really nothing more than the reification of a reality which is simply too traumatic for us to otherwise comprehend, I sure hope God has control over that, too. If so, I’m on board.
Finally, I would note one important thing: for Mark, demons are equal opportunity tormenters. Children, gentiles, Jews, whoever. Out with the pigs or in the middle of synagogue. Let us not imagine we are too good to be tormented, nor too tormented for God to find good in us.
Although there are a couple of spots where, in passing, Mark mentions Jesus’s power to cast out demons, Mark specifically records four particular exorcisms:
1:21-28 In the Synagogue in Capernaum
5:1-20 The Gerasene Demoniac
7:24-30 The Syrophonecian Woman’s Daughter
9:14-29 The Stubborn Demon v. Bumbling Disciples
Although all four stories can be grossly lumped together as offers of proof of Jesus’s authority, they each serve very different roles in the narrative flow of Mark’s gospel. I mean, you would think that an exorcism is an exorcism, right? Well, not exactly. Sometimes, the crowd stands in awe of the miraculous new teacher (1:27). Sometimes the crowds politely ask for Jesus to go exorcise some place else (5:17), while other times, Jesus can’t escape even for a quick meal (7:24). And sometimes, Jesus seems just flat-out tired, frustrated, and pissed off over the whole affair (9:19).
And all that is fitting. Throughout Mark, Jesus has an uneven relationship with the crowds. And I can imagine why. I witnessed an act of authority tonight. I was sitting in the cushy chair at Starbucks, facing out the huge glass walls in front, and watched a cop pull over a car full of teenagers in a battered old Oldsmobile. I couldn’t look away. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen a cop at work. It’s not like I’ve never seen teenagers treated with suspicion. No shocker there. But there is something morbidly attractive about it. We all hate being behind the rubber-neckers in traffic, but once we are up by the scene of the accident, we still can’t help but take a look. So, I kind of understand the reaction of the crowds. Sometimes we are simply attracted to the flashy lights, mesmerized, transfixed, numbed to where we don’t even notice that even the demons have figured out that Jesus’s presence is gonna mean some major changes in the order of things. I mean, a guy just fell screaming and writhing to the floor in a fit of liberation in the middle of the synagogue. The crowd’s reaction? “Wow, teaching with authority!”
REALLY?
I hope somebody was on the scene helping out the until-just-recently-possessed guy on the floor. I hope somebody was getting the guy a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. And I think I know why those guys aren’t in the story: this isn’t their story. This is the story of Jesus and his authority. And whether it is John crying out in the desert or a demon crying out in the synagogue, the secret is out. You can’t un-ring a bell.
OK, one more thing before we move on. Demons. There’s gonna be lots of them in Mark. I am not content to demythologize/modernize/sterilize Mark by saying that the folks possessed by “unclean spirits” were “merely” mentally disturbed or insane or something of that nature. Even if I was to do so, have I really changed the point of the story? Is it any less miraculous if Jesus is casting out “insanity” rather than demons? That’s still a handy skill if you ask me! What if there really were just that many demons? I mean, once you’ve accepted the idea that God cracked open a perfectly good sky to comment on Jesus’s baptism, is it really that far of a stretch to imagine that if demons exist at all, this might be the period of history where they’d be particularly interested in seeing what God was up to? Do I believe that actual, literal demons exist? Yep. Sure do. When a bus full of school children are ripped open by a terrorist’s bomb, I think a demon has been busy. When an affluent but neglected American teenager takes her life because she can’t imagine anything good ever happening again, a demon is there. When a child shows up on a milk carton. Fill in the blank. Pick a social evil. Even if a demon is really nothing more than the reification of a reality which is simply too traumatic for us to otherwise comprehend, I sure hope God has control over that, too. If so, I’m on board.
Finally, I would note one important thing: for Mark, demons are equal opportunity tormenters. Children, gentiles, Jews, whoever. Out with the pigs or in the middle of synagogue. Let us not imagine we are too good to be tormented, nor too tormented for God to find good in us.
posted by graysandpeas | 11:36 AM
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