Review

In the concluding scene of the First Gospel, while issuing the famous “Great Commission” to His disciples, Jesus makes this bold and forthright assertion:  “All authority (exousia) has been given to Me in heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18). 

These words, though recorded by Matthew, contain the essence of the Gospel of Mark.  As we’ve been discovering, it would be fair to say that the unrivalled authority of Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Man, is the heart and soul of this powerful little book.  We might even go so far as to contend that Mark’s message reflects the message of the New Testament as a whole; for in an important sense, Jesus’ claim to absolute authority is the Word that brings the kingdom and turns the world upside down (Acts 17:6).  It’s the challenge that makes tyrants tremble and causes despots to turn sick with fear.   

This is the note on which we ended last week’s discussion:  our study of the healing of the woman with the hemorrhage.  Quoting commentator Eckhard Schnabel, we said that this woman’s great faith – the faith that saved her and made her well – can be defined precisely as her “personal conviction that Jesus has divine authority to heal her.”^[i]

With this miracle of mercy behind Him, Jesus presses on to the house of Jairus where the synagogue leader’s young daughter has been lying at the point of death.

“Keep on Believing”:  Verses 35 & 36

35 While He was still speaking, they came from the house of the synagogue official, saying, Your daughter has died; why trouble the Teacher any more?” 36 But Jesus, overhearing what was being spoken, said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid any longer, only believe.” [ii]

Just as the middle section of Mark’s narrative “sandwich” draws to a happy conclusion, our double episode takes another jag.  We now learn that, even as Jesus was pausing by the wayside to look after one suffering individual, another lost her life – a familiar scenario in the era of COVID-19.  Jairus’ little daughter is dead.  And the hopelessness of the situation is reflected in the words of the messengers:  “Don’t bother the Teacher any further.  His services are no longer required.”

Jesus, of course, pays them no heed.  “Not so fast,” He seems to say, speaking directly to the grieving father.  “Do you honestly think there is such a thing as a problem I can’t handle?  Is there any time, no matter what the circumstance, when My help isn’t required?  I’ve got more up my sleeve than you can imagine.  All authority is given to me in heaven and on earth.  Your role is simply to trust.”                           

“Only believe.”  Sounds simple, right?  We know it isn’t.  But the good news is that this isn’t a one-time-only, all-or-nothing proposition.  On the contrary, it’s an ongoing challenge – a marathon rather than a sprint.  The Greek verb Mark uses to translate Christ’s Aramaic is pisteue, a present-tense imperative.  It’s a command word that urges constant, persistent, ever-renewed, decisive action in the moment-by-moment here-and-now.  It means more than just “believe.”  It has the force of “Keep on believing.”  Believe, even when you think you can’t.  Believe and then believe again.  If you question your convictions, don’t stop there – counter your questions with different questions.  Push back and push ahead.  If you fall down, get up and go on.  Put your fears aside and keep on believing!                 

Playing It Cool:  Verses 37-40

37 And He allowed no one to follow with Him, except Peter and James and John the brother of James. 38 And they came to the house of the synagogue official; and He beheld a commotion, and people loudly weeping and wailing. 39 And entering in, He said to them, “Why make a commotion and weep?  The child has not died, but is asleep.” 40 And they were laughing at Him.  But putting them all out, He took along the child’s father and mother and His own companions, and entered the room where the child was.    

Apparently Jairus is convinced; sufficiently convinced, in any case, to put one foot in front of the other and move forward with Jesus at his side.  Jairus believes in the present tense, even though at this point he sees no reason to be hopeful.  His determined resignation in the face of despair illustrates the biblical principle that “faith is the assurance (substance) of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).  It reminds us that “Hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one also hope for what he sees?  But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it” (Romans 8:24, 25).

When they get to the house, everything is in an uproar.  The “commotion” Mark describes – the loud weeping and wailing, probably accompanied by the skirl of two or three bone or reed flutes – was all part of the service provided by paid professional mourners.[iii]  Their job was to kick up a huge fuss as a way of demonstrating the family’s grief and protesting the obscene horror of death.  But Jesus puts a lid on all this as soon as He steps through the door.

“What’s the big deal?” He asks, casting an eye around the room.  “Don’t you know she’s only sleeping?”  Their sudden laughter is an indication of the sincerity of their “grief”.  This is just another “gig” as far as most of these folks are concerned – a matter of indifference, whether laughing or crying.  But Jesus sees things differently. 

In fact, Jesus is the only one who really knows what’s happening here; the only person present who grasps the true significance of the case.  On the one hand, He’s fully acquainted with the tragedy of death.  He knows its pain from the inside out.  On the other hand, He realizes that death doesn’t get the final word.  He is supremely aware of Himself as King, and He knows that the King has all authority – even authority over death.  So His first act upon arrival is to scatter the confusion and put a damper on the drama.  His strategy is to play it cool.  “Let’s stop the circus,” He says, “and restore some perspective to this situation.”                                 

After downplaying the hype, His next move is to shrink the crowd.  Here again Jesus shows us that “small is beautiful,” that individual need takes precedence over public show, and that privacy is the proper context for an encounter with the divine (Matthew 6:6).  On the cusp of a miracle like the one Jesus is about to perform, most modern “faith leaders” wouldn’t miss the opportunity to issue a press release and get a contingent of cameramen on the scene.  But that’s not the Master’s way, nor is it the point of His kingdom.  He has no interest in stirring up publicity or staging a media event.  Instead, He quietly ushers everyone out of the house except for those few who are most personally and immediately concerned.  Then, in the company of the parents and His three closest disciples, He steps into the girl’s room.              

Staying Focused:  Verses 41-43

41 And taking the child by the hand, He said to her, “Talitha kum!” (which translated means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”) 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk; for she was twelve years old.  And immediately they were completely astounded. 43 And He gave them strict orders that no one should know about this; and He said that something should be given her to eat.    

Once within that silent, private sanctuary, out of the limelight and away from the hoopla, Jesus gets right down to work.  Instantly He takes stock of the situation, assesses the problem, and addresses the need.  He makes no use of spells or incantations, after the fashion of the healers and exorcists of His day, nor does He shout, strut, parade, or put on an impressive show of power.  Instead, He performs four very simple acts, each of which underscores the priority He places upon the needs of the individual as over against the demands of the crowd.

First, He walks up to the bed and takes the child by the hand.  As in the case of the woman with the hemorrhage and so many of the miracles narrated in the Gospels, the healing Jesus administers in this instance is associated with skin-on-skin touch.  It’s by way of this human contact that Christ applies the  supernatural remedy.  Through His touch He becomes the up-close, living, breathing incarnation of God’s love.  As His followers, we can do the same.      

Second, He supplements the touch with words; for as we know, it was not merely by an act of power, but by the Word of God that the worlds were made (Hebrews 11:3).  Jesus Himself is the creating, sustaining, healing, and resurrecting Word of God (John 1:1); and so, while touching her hand, He bends over the “slumbering” child and speaks to her.  “Talitha kum!” He says.  This is no magical formula, but a phrase drawn from the everyday life of an ordinary family.  These are the words with which any mother might rouse any child in the morning:  “Time to get up, little girl!”  Mark leaves the Aramaic untranslated because, to his way of thinking, it’s an indispensable detail of the scene as it actually unfolded.  Peter, Mark’s eyewitness source, remembers it just so.  

Third, when the girl gets out of bed and begins to walk around – an earth-shattering event which is nevertheless related in the most matter-of-fact language – Jesus tells the others to “Get her something to eat.”  According to the written accounts we possess, Jesus only raised three people from the dead during the course of His earthly ministry:  Lazarus; the widow of Nain’s son; and Jairus’ daughter.  This, then, is an extremely rare occurrence as well as an astounding miracle.  And yet instead of calling attention to His feat – instead of saying, “Look at what I just did!  Now are you convinced?” – Jesus stays focused on the needs of the individual.  After all, this girl is only twelve years old and she’s been through an ordeal few of us can even imagine.  She has died and come back to life again!  As far as He’s concerned, it’s obvious what needs to happen next:  Take care of her immediate needs.  “Get her something to eat.”  This is the thought that occupies Him in this moment of moments.

Finally, Jesus concludes with a familiar refrain:  “Don’t let anyone know about this.”  Here again He presents Himself to us as the “Incognito Messiah,” the Savior who, as far as possible, tries to keep His mind-blowing, death-defying exploits under wraps for fear that they will be misinterpreted and the true nature of His kingdom misunderstood.  It’s a command that no one will be able to keep, of course:  the cat will be out of the bag just as soon as Jairus’ daughter is presented alive to family members, neighbors, and friends.  But Jesus issues it anyway, not because He desires to saddle Jairus and his clan with an impossible burden of secrecy, but because He wants us to know that publicity, hype, showmanship, and advertising are no part of His agenda.  What He cares about is the sacred and solemn task of linking the individual with God.          

Final Thoughts

In the last couple of chapters Mark has recorded four miracles illustrating four different aspects of Jesus’ authority:  authority over nature (4:35-41); authority over demons or arkys (5:1-20); authority over illness (5:21-34); and last of all, authority over death (5:35-43).  This, as we said at the beginning of this entry, is the message of Mark’s Gospel in a nutshell:  “All authority is given to Me in heaven and on earth.”  

We should add that, in a very real sense, these acts of power are nothing in and of themselves.  They are not “proofs” of anything, but rather “signs” (to use John’s term).  Their function is to direct our attention beyond the healing or deliverance of the moment to a larger truth:  the growing realization that this Man from Nazareth is something more than He seems to be.  Exactly what that “something” is has yet to be fully revealed.  But for the moment these miracles have the effect of raising disturbing questions in the minds of everyone who witnesses them – questions powerful enough to engage our curiosity and keep us wondering what’s going to happen next.   

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[i] Eckhard Schnabel, The Tyndale Commentary on Mark, p. 127.

[ii] This week’s Scripture quotations come from the New American Standard Bible. 

[iii] “Even the poorest in Israel do not hire less than two flute players and one wailing woman.” (m. Ketub 4:4; quoted in Schnabel, p. 128).

Review

Jesus has taken a first step in direction of expanding the kingdom of God beyond the boundaries of previous religious expectation.  He has crossed the Sea of Galilee, landed in Gentile territory, and demonstrated His absolute authority over the local spiritual potentates (arkys) by freeing a man from demonic possession.  In response to this dramatic display of divine power, the people of Gerasa, with an eye to protecting their economic interests and preserving the status quo, have politely (or perhaps not so politely) asked Him to leave.  And Jesus, because He never forces Himself on anyone (unlike some of His followers), has complied.  This next passage finds Him back on the “Jewish side” of the lake.                      

“Sandwiching”

Jesus continues in action mode in the verses that follow.  In fact, He leaps straight into the 21^st century by engaging in what our contemporaries like to call “multi-tasking”.  He takes on two stiff challenges and performs two astonishing miracles at almost one and the same time.  What we have here is a double episode:  Mark narrates two events within a single passage by “sandwiching” one within the other – a technique he employs several times during the course of his Gospel (see 3:20-35 and 11:12-25). 

This is superb story-telling.  Not only does it engage and hold our interest by maintaining a high level of tension, uncertainty, and expectation.  It also reflects our experience of real life – a life in which it’s always “just one thing after another.”  This leads one to suspect that Mark’s narrative technique is not “technique” at all, but simply faithfulness in recording these events as they actually unfolded in real time. 

But let’s get back to the text.            

President of The Synagogue:  Verses 21-24

21 When Jesus had crossed again in a boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered around Him, and He was by the sea. 22 Then one of the synagogue rulers, named Jairus, came up, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at His feet. 23 He asked Him urgently, “My little daughter is near death.  Come and lay Your hands on her so that she may be healed and live.” 24 Jesus went with him, and a large crowd followed and pressed around Him. [i]

A theme that emerges almost immediately in this section is that of Jesus’ laser-like concern for the individual. 

We’ve talked a great deal about arkys during the course of this study:  both the spiritual powers and principalities who rule over this present darkness and the human “authorities” who serve as their mortal, temporal representatives.  We’ve seen how Jesus clashes with these archai and exousiai almost as soon as He comes up out of the waters of baptism.  What we want to notice now is His remarkable ability to look past this conflict when circumstances require it:  to pierce the clouds of arkydom, ignore the claims of the Powers That Be, and fix His attentive gaze upon the person who happens to be wearing their badge and uniform at any given moment in time. 

Jairus is one of the “presidents of the synagogue” – an archisynagogos.  He is precisely the kind of person who might have had serious issues with Jesus at this stage in His ministry:  a prominent, powerful leader of the community with every reason to feel threatened by the subversive, revolutionary claims and pretensions of an upstart preacher and miracle worker.  Many commentators have noted how difficult it must have been for him to overcome his desire to maintain a respectable distance, to push past his prejudices, and to go bowing and scraping to a scruffy “popular” healer from Nazareth.  After all, what would his parishioners say?  But so dire is his daughter’s situation that he’s driven to set all this aside.  He “pockets his pride, forgets his fears,”[ii] and throws himself at Jesus feet.

All this is precisely accurate and true.  Jairus did have some formidable hurdles to get over before He could bring Himself to seek the Master’s aid.  But what about Jesus?  Were there any obstacles He needed to overcome in order to respond affirmatively to Jairus’ appeal?  I think so.

Remember, Jesus had already offended the archisynagogoi on several occasions.  More than once He had violated the Mosaic Law by healing on the sabbath right in the middle of a synagogue service.  He knew that these religious leaders were out to get Him – to kill Him, in fact.  When He saw Jairus approaching, it would have been easy for Him to say, “This man is my enemy.  This man is an agent of the spiritual archai and exousiai who oppose the advance of God’s kingdom.  He’s one of the pigs!”  But He didn’t.  Instead, He looked past all this and saw an individual in desperate need. 

We need to cultivate this same perspective.  As disciples of the greatest Revolutionary of all time, it’s easy for us to justify a dismissive attitude towards the proud and pompous magnates who occupy positions of influence within the power elite:  people who serve, whether wittingly or unwittingly, as the face, hands, and feet of oppressive “spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.”  It’s easy to look around and see nothing but “The Man” – “bosses,” “cops,” “executives,” “soldiers,” “presidents,” “organization men,” and “CEOs” – when in fact we are surrounded by flesh-and-blood human beings just like ourselves.  Jesus never made that mistake.  On the contrary, He accepted Joseph of Arimathea, “a prominent man of the Sanhedrin,” as one of His secret followers (Mark 15:43).  While vehemently denouncing Pharisaism as an institution (Matthew 23), He had no problem socializing with individual Pharisees like Simon (Luke 7:36) and Nicodemus (John 3:1,2).  And though He was obviously unimpressed with Pilate’s office (John 19:10, 11), He nevertheless spoke freely, openly, and candidly with Pilate as a man. 

In every respect Jesus exemplified and lived out a basic biblical principle:  while we owe nothing to the representatives of arkydom in the way of loyalty, duty, respect, or allegiance, we still have a very real obligation to love them as people (Romans 13:8).  And so when Jairus asks Him to come and lay hands on his daughter, He doesn’t hesitate for an instant.  Immediately He turns on His heel and heads off towards the synagogue ruler’s house.                                                       

“If Only …”:  Verses 25-29

25 Now a woman was there who had been suffering from a hemorrhage for twelve years. 26 She had endured a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all that she had.  Yet instead of getting better, she grew worse. 27 When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind Him in the crowd and touched His cloak, 28 for she kept saying, “If only I touch His clothes, I will be healed.” 29 At once the bleeding stopped, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 

At this point there’s an interruption.  Hardly is the story of Jairus and his daughter out of the gate before it’s cut short by an emergency.  The middle section of Mark’s “narrative sandwich” slips into place as an unknown woman suddenly arrives on the scene; a woman whose sense of desperation is every bit as urgent as Jairus’.  For twelve years she’s been suffering from a chronic disease – a recurring and unstoppable flow of blood – and up to this point no one has been able to cure her.  She’s heard about Jesus, and so deep is her confidence in His healing power that she’s willing to do almost anything to access it.  She isn’t asking much.  “If only I can touch His garments,” she says, “I will be healed.”  Forget the thrill and drama of meeting a famous wonder-worker.  That plays no part in her thinking.  All she wants is to be set free from her ailment, and she believes Jesus has the power to grant her wish.   

There are a couple of things we want to notice about this woman.  In the first place, there’s her obvious desire to keep a low profile.  In contrast to Jairus, who walks straight up to Jesus with his request, she advances cautiously from behind, taking good advantage of the crowd cover.  She wants to tap into Christ’s power without making a scene or drawing attention to herself.  This may be attributable to the fact that, according to Jewish law, the blood flow from which she was suffering rendered her ceremonially unclean.  It’s even possible that she was under some kind of quarantine and afraid of being discovered in a public place.  Whatever the reason, we can say with certainty that her faith, for which she will later receive the Teacher’s commendation, was tempered in this instance by a healthy degree of fear and trepidation (more on this to come).  Clearly, there was nothing bold, brash, presumptuous, or demanding about this woman! 

Second, there’s an important sense in which the woman’s faith, for all its saving efficacy, is something quite different from biblical faith as we usually understand it.  Indeed, her view can almost be described as “mechanical” or “magical” in character.  We often speak of saving faith in terms of a deep personal relationship with Jesus:  a relationship that involves prayer, study, diligent interaction with God, experiential learning, and a long process of growth and sanctification.  But for this woman, faith is summed up in a single thought:  “If only I can touch His garments, I’ll be healed.”  She expects to receive healing not as the result of a long-term relationship with Christ, but as an instantaneous transfer of power due to some kind of automatic physical transaction.  Some of us might have serious issues with this kind of “faith”, and not without good reason.  But in this case we’re going to have to reserve judgment until we see how Jesus responds.   
                            

In the Spotlight:  Verses 30-32

30 Jesus knew at once that power had gone out from Him.  He turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched My clothes?” 31 His disciples said to Him, “You see the crowd pressing against You and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’” 32 But He looked around to see who had done it.    

As it turns out, the woman is not mistaken in her assumptions.  Just as she had expected, healing power flows out of Jesus and cures her at once, without any conscious response on His part.  The amazing thing about this is that Jesus can sense it.  He knows what has happened, and so He asks a question that sounds utterly ridiculous in the ears of His disciples:  “Who touched my clothes?”  Given the press of the crowd, the answer is obvious, laughably obvious:  “Everyone has been touching Your clothes, Jesus!”  But the Master realizes that there’s more to it than this.  He knew He had felt something – something like a bolt of lightning.  Everyone may have been touching His clothes, but that touch was a touch like no other.  It was something altogether unique.     

As in the case of the woman, so with Jesus there are a couple of observations that beg to be made.  First, to His way of thinking, theological considerations and ritual requirements take a back seat to urgent human need.  Jesus doesn’t care that the woman’s understanding of faith may not be precisely correct.  Simple and primitive though it may be, that faith has succeeded in making the desired connection, and that’s all that counts.  Nor does it bother Him that, in the eyes of official religion, the touch of this woman has defiled Him ritually.  As He sees it, the Law of Moses must give way to the demands of the Law of Love.  All this leads us to an inevitable conclusion:  faith in Jesus – at least in its initial phase – is not a matter of dotting your “I’s” and crossing your “T’s”.  Come to Him on your own terms and He will meet you there.  This is what saving faith is all about.

Second, as the spotlight falls upon the woman and Jesus glances around to locate her in the crowd, Mark effectively reiterates and underscores our overarching theme:  Christ’s intense concern for the individual.  Though Jesus often addresses large gatherings and manages huge throngs, in the final analysis He has no interest in numbers.  What really grabs His attention is the desperation of that one man or woman who really needs His help and really believes He has the power to grant it.  Here again we are reminded of one of the founding principles of God’s kingdom:  “small is beautiful.”  Ultimately, everything can be boiled down to the one-on-one encounter between the believer and Jesus Christ.  As N. T. Wright expresses it, this woman’s experience exemplifies “the intimate nature of the contact between the individual and Jesus that Mark expects and hopes his readers to develop for themselves.”[iii]       

Fear and Trembling:  Verses 33-34

33 Then the woman, with fear and trembling, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell down before Him and told Him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.  Go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”    

The last point I want to make is this:  even in the moment of triumph – even when she knows beyond question that her prayer has been answered and her expectations fulfilled – this woman still approaches Jesus in an attitude of humility and self-abnegation.  Realizing that she has not escaped His notice, she falls down before Him in “fear and trembling.”  She places no confidence in her own merits or deserts.  She assumes nothing and presumes nothing.  She neither stands on her dignity nor demands her rights.  Instead, she pours out her heart, confessing the whole truth, telling her story in detail.  With great trepidation, she acknowledges that while her approach may not have been entirely orthodox, she has nevertheless been made the recipient of sheer unconditional grace.

Wright concludes by suggesting that it is precisely this “odd mixture of fear and faith” that “characterizes so much Christian discipleship.”[iv]  In other words, he says that as followers of Jesus, we live out our lives in a kind of balancing act somewhere between uncertainty and conviction.  I think he’s right.  And I believe his observation is well worth remembering at a time when many self-professed believers seem to be arrogantly presuming that God is somehow obligated to protect them from a highly infectious disease simply because they say so.             

Final Thoughts

“Your faith has made you well [or saved you].”  This is Jesus’ final comment on the incident; and while it is the kind of statement that fills us with both encouragement and hope, it also raises several poignant questions.  Does this pronouncement mean that it was not Jesus Himself who made the woman well, but something that originated in her own heart?  That it was not His power – the power that flowed out of Him and into her – but rather her belief – her confidence, determination, and stubborn desire to touch Him and lay hold of His goodness – that effected the miracle?  And while we’re on the subject, what is “faith” (Greek pistis) after all?  How do we follow the woman’s example in this regard?  How can we know that we have such “faith” and that we’re exercising it correctly? 

Books could be written in response to these inquiries.  Perhaps we’ll gain some clearer insight into the answers as we move forward in our study of Mark.  But for now it might be just as well to conclude with Eckhard Schnabel’s simple assertion that, in this particular case, “faith” was the woman’s “personal conviction that Jesus has divine authority to heal her.”[v]                

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[i] This week’s Scripture quotations come from The Net Bible. 

[ii] N. T. Wright, Mark for Everyone, p. 59.

[iii] Ibid., p. 61.

[iv] Ibid. 

[v] Eckhard Schnabel, The Tyndale Commentary on Mark, p. 127.

Review

“The time has come,” the walrus said,

To speak of Bigger Gigs;

Of Kings and Lords and Presidents,

Of Potentates and Pigs.”

The walrus never said that, of course.  Nor did Lewis Carroll write it.  But as the second part of the story of the Gerasene Demoniac reveals, Pigs and Potentates do have something in common.  Both can play host to demons:  those supernatural Powers and Principalities we’ve been lumping together under the heading of arkys.  To that extent, at least, Potentates and Pigs belong to a single class and category; and this suggests that there may be other similarities between them.  Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that George Orwell chose pigs to represent the power elite.  

In the previous episode we saw Jesus make a dramatic symbolic statement about the boundless extent of God’s kingdom by landing on the Gentile side of the lake.  We saw the “Local Authorities,” in the form of a man possessed by a Legion of demons, come forward to confront His claim.  We watched as that man and those invisible arkys acknowledged the irrefutable authority of Jesus by bowing down before Him and pleading with Him not to oust them from their territorial domain. 

Let’s find out what happens next.                  

Porcine Possession:  Verses 11-13

11 There happened to be a large herd of pigs feeding on the hillside nearby. 12 “Send us into those pigs,” the spirits begged.  “Let us enter them.” 13 So Jesus gave them permission.  The evil spirits came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the entire herd of about 2,000 pigs plunged down the steep hillside into the lake and drowned in the water. [i]

“A large herd of pigs.”  Yet another indication that, from a strictly Jewish point of view, “we’re not in Kansas anymore.”  This really is “the other side of the lake;” for as we know, to the Law-abiding Israelite, pigs are every bit as “unclean” as the graveyard where the demon-possessed man had been living. 

This in itself constitutes an awkward, uncomfortable circumstance for Jesus and His disciples.  Clearly, they are now traveling through a very different kind of place:  a land of pigs.  It’s all rather messy and dirty.  But things often turn out that way when God’s kingdom begins to move out into the world at large.

Recognizing that the mere presence of Jesus has already sealed their doom, and being territorial and local in orientation, the demons suddenly realize that they’re in imminent need of a new domicile.  As we learn elsewhere (Luke 11:24-26), a disembodied existence is not an option for them:  their Chief expects them to dominate someone or something, and they can’t bear the thought of existence in any other mode.  So they beg permission to take possession of the pigs.  And oddly enough, Jesus agrees. 

The sequel is as disturbing as it is bizarre.  No sooner have the evil spirits made their move than the entire herd of porkers precipitates itself over the edge of a cliff and into the waters of the lake.  Biblically speaking, the monsters go back to their place of origin in the dark and murky depths of the sea. 

This is yet another detail that is almost certain to prove problematic for modern readers.  Much as we prize violence, mayhem, death, and destruction in our entertainment, most of us nowadays still want to be assured that “no animals were harmed during the making of this film.”  Sadly, that isn’t the case here.  Why?  Because Arky conflict is serious business.  Once the battle is joined, there will be casualties.  And in the eyes of God, 2,000 pigs, valuable as they may be, can’t compare in worth with a single human life.  

What’s the point of this strange scene?  Most of the details are left maddeningly unexplained, but I think there are at least three conclusions we can draw from the text. 

First, there’s our recurring theme:  all authority in heaven and earth is given to Jesus (Matthew 28:18).  All other Powers and Principalities must ultimately bow to Him (Philippians 2:10, 11).  This is the earliest of all Christian confessions of faith:  Iesous Kyrios – “Jesus [is] LORD.”  And it teaches us that the Christian’s fealty, subjection, and obedience are due to Christ alone; that there are no graduated levels of fidelity and duty, no room for multiple allegiances in the life of a believer. 

Second, submission to other arkys quickly becomes possession by other arkys.  And possession by other arkys is always a bad thing.  It was bad for the man among the tombs.  It was even worse for the pigs.  Those who render allegiance to authorities other than Jesus may be able “get by” under that arrangement for a while, but in the end it will destroy them.                            

Finally, the “spiritual forces of wickedness in heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12) aren’t picky.  They’re open to utilizing a wide variety of methods, strategies, vehicles, and venues in order to accomplish their mission.  They can go with Potentates or Pigs.  To a certain extent it’s a matter of indifference to them (and their Leader) where they set up shop, whether it be with a political party, at a corporate headquarters, within the workings of a marketing or management scheme, or in a herd of swine.  They can make equally effective use of regional loyalties, neighborhood rivalries, racial prejudices, political commitments, Congress, the White House, or the Executive Committee of the World Council of Churches.  What matters is finding a “hook” to hang their hat on, someone to boss, and an excuse to subvert the goodness of God’s creation.  From that point forward it’s all smooth sailing for them – until Jesus shows up.                                           

“No Thanks!:”  Verses 14-17

14 The herdsmen fled to the nearby town and the surrounding countryside, spreading the news as they ran.  People rushed out to see what had happened. 15 A crowd soon gathered around Jesus, and they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons.  He was sitting there fully clothed and perfectly sane, and they were all afraid. 16 Then those who had seen what happened told the others about the demon-possessed man and the pigs. 17 And the crowd began pleading with Jesus to go away and leave them alone.

Now for another bit of irony.  For all their diabolical wickedness, the demons we’ve encountered in Mark’s Gospel thus far have always been quick to acknowledge and submit to the authority of Jesus.  Humans, not so much.  That’s how it happens in Gerasa.  When the local farmers, stockmen, and townsfolk get wind of what’s going on, their response is unanimous:  “Get the heck out of here, Jesus!  We don’t cotton to this kind of thing in our neck of the woods!” 

Try to feel the impact of this.  A miracle has taken place!  A lost and broken Son of Adam has been healed, set free, restored to his right mind, and given a chance to re-establish himself in the life of the community.  A divine act of supernatural deliverance has exploded in the faces of the local inhabitants.  Yet their reaction is, “Go away and leave us alone!” 

It isn’t difficult to discern their line of reasoning:  “It’s the economy, stupid!”  Yes, the kingdom of heaven may have arrived on our doorstep.  Signs and wonders may be unfolding before our very eyes.  The earth may be shifting beneath our feet.  God-in-the-flesh may be walking among us.  But what of it?  There are more important things to think about!  The local pork industry just took a big hit!  Stocks are down and jobs are on the line!  So let’s get real, Jesus.  Whatever Your game is, You can take it somewhere else!  We’ve got our priorities!

Demons may be bad news, but there’s one thing you can say in their favor:  they recognize Reality when they see it.  People, on the other hand, tend to live in a delusional world of their own invention.  These Gerasenes are no exception.  They are exactly like Demetrius the silversmith and his fellow craftsmen who, rather than taking an honest look at what was actually happening in Ephesus, chose to oppose the Gospel in order to protect their business interests (Acts 19:23-28).  They also bear a strong resemblance to the scribes and Pharisees who couldn’t see past the rules and regulations to the wonder of a soul redeemed and a withered hand restored (Mark 3:1-6).  This is Arky conflict of yet another variety.  And it’s all the more subtle in that it presents itself to us under the guise of everyday wisdom and common sense. 

Full Circle:  Verses 18-20

18 As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon possessed begged to go with Him. 19 But Jesus said, “No, go home to your family, and tell them everything the Lord has done for you and how merciful He has been. 20 So the man started off to visit the Ten Towns of that region and began to proclaim the great things Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed at what he told them. 

Before leaving this side of the lake we should mention that the story doesn’t end here.  Jesus will come back to the Decapolis in Mark 7:31-37.  When He does, He will be playing to a very different crowd.  By that time people will have heard of His reputation as a Healer.  The “multitude” (7:33) will be expecting signs and wonders from Him.  Why the change?  The answer can be found in these last few verses.

For obvious reasons, the healed and restored demoniac wants to be with Jesus.  It’s a phrase that was used in Mark 3:14 with reference to Christ’s calling of the Twelve:  they were selected to be with Him and proclaim the kingdom in His name.  The implication is plain:  this man wants to become an apostle.  He wants to join this band of itinerant preachers.  He longs to be ordained and go into the Gospel ministry.  But Jesus has other plans for him.

“Go home,” He instructs him, “and tell your own people what God has done for you.”  In saying this, Christ returns to the subject of the family, which He had addressed in such shocking terms back in 3:31-35, and redeems it.  In effect, He says, “Once you’ve got your loyalties and affections straight – that is, once you’ve realized that your allegiance is due first and foremost to Me – it’s time to go full circle.  Return to the place of your origins.  Go back to the people who meant the most you in the first place.  If you really want to announce the arrival of My kingdom, start there.  Begin small, as in the Parable of the Growing Seed, and branch out.  That’s where your love and commitment will be most severely tested.  That’s where you can initiate the process of turning the world upside down – one life and one relationship at a time.”

The man did as Jesus told him, and if the events narrated in Chapter 7 are any indication, his witness bore fruit.  As we’ve already hinted, when Jesus returns to the Decapolis, the people’s new-found openness will enable Him to heal a deaf and dumb man.  And that’s not all.  It will be in this same region – “on the other side of the lake,” in the town of Caesarea Philippi – that Peter will make his earth-shaking confession regarding Jesus’ true identity (Mark 8:29), and where Paul will encounter the Living Lord in a blinding light on the Damascus Road (Acts 9:1-9).  Apparently there’s a very real sense in which the liberated demoniac became “the first apostle to the Gentiles.”[ii]                     

Final Thoughts

What’s the upshot of Christ’s encounter with the Powers and Principalities who rule beyond the narrow confines of Jewish religion?  Answer:  it’s nothing we haven’t underscored at least a dozen times before.  Jesus is Lord of all.  His power and authority are absolute and universal.  There is no Word of Command superior to that which we receive from Him; if there is any bowing, serving, and pledging of fidelity to be done, it is to Christ and Christ alone.  As for the rest of them – Potentates and Pigs alike – we owe them nothing but our most careful observance of the Royal Law (James 2:8): the Law of Love (Romans 12:8).                     

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[i] This week’s Scripture quotations come from The New Living Translation. 

[ii] N. T. Wright, Mark for Everyone, p. 57