1 February 2009
Carolyn L Roberts
Mark 1.21-28
I didn’t recognize it at the time. At the time, I was a senior in high school, and our beloved youth minister met individually with each of those who were graduating. I had been very active in our active youth group, serving as President–we elected officers way back when–and giving leadership and participating in everything from devotions and Bible study to work camps and Vacation Church School. When I met with the youth minister, he asked if I’d ever thought about serving the church as a Christian Education Director. By that point, I’d decided I was going to be a public school teacher. I told him that as much as I loved my CE Director, I had no desire to do what she did. End of discussion. The other graduates–at least those that had been leaders in the youth group–were also asked if they would consider serving the church as ordained ministers. And of course, they were all males.
What I didn’t recognize at the time was the innate sexism of the conversations, the unclean spirit that was the elephant in the sanctuary. It wasn’t until my second year of teaching that I could identify that mad elephant when it charged. At the time, I was ill-equipped to do more than run for cover, but in that experience I learned first-hand how personally diminishing and culturally acceptable sexism was.
In Mark’s telling of the story, Jesus’ confrontation with the unclean spirit is his initial first-hand experience with the personal and communal toll unclean spirits extract. This spirit recognizes that its destruction is a real possibility, as real a possibility in the world of Mark’s gospel as anything that takes place in the physical world. Just as pre-Enlightenment Christians believed in an earth-centered universe, Markan Christians believed in two equally real and equally interrelated worlds, the physical world and the spiritual world. What happens in one had a direct impact on the other. These interrelated worlds were arranged in a pyramid, a hierarchy with all creatures other than humans at the bottom. Next were human beings, and above humans were spirits–both good and evil. Children of the gods were higher still; God (or the gods) sat at the top of the pyramid.[1]
Within that Markan world, Jesus not only shares God’s power as God’s beloved one; as God’s son, Jesus has power over the power of the spirits. Taken together, the story is a clash of the Titans. This becomes a defining moment, when Jesus’ first confrontation with ‘unclean spirits’ takes place, and most importantly, it takes place within the context of the faith community. At the very least, this suggests that our own struggles against unclean spirits of every sort are spiritual in nature. We too may hear them cry, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?”
Tomorrow is Groundhog Day, when that poor creature is pulled out of bed so we can check for a shadow that belongs to him alone. Peter Pan reminds us of the joy and comfort that fickle playmate provides. But when our shadow side reflects a life out of balance and out of control, it torments us mentally and spiritually in ways that can cause harm to ourselves and those we love.[2] Which suggests that we should pay attention to the rest of the story.
This story takes place within a community at worship, where teaching and learning, praying and reflecting on the scriptures are part of the order of the day. When the man with an unclean spirit enters, Jesus is already grounded in his faith and surrounded by his community. Within that setting, his first command is silence. Silence. How can we remain grounded when evil shouts its distractions at us, unless we begin with silence? How can we enlist Jesus’ help to confront evil if we cannot hear his voice? How can we be open to God’s healing power without telling unclean voices around to be silent? Then Jesus casts them out. Do they go meekly off with their tails between their legs like a whipped puppies? Hardly! They cause convulsions within their host; they continue to cry out. They don’t go easily and they don’t go quietly. Which suggests that we shouldn’t expect the Mary Poppins approach that a spoonful of sugar will make everything easier to take. Convulsions are wrenching business that impact the entire body.
But when they are confronted, the unclean spirits do go. And at the other side of the struggle, God’s liberating, healing power shines through in Jesus. At the other side of the struggle, the individual is restored, and the community itself is renewed. We can’t escape the powers of unclean spirits. Even in the sanctuary, they enter and challenge us. My own high school experience reminds me of that. But our scriptures also remind each of us that confronting those unclean spirits begins in the faith community, in the place that recognizes and honors the world of the spirit. We don’t have to subscribe to the worldview of Mark’s Christian community to hear in our gospel story that there isn’t a human situation or condition that the power and authority of Christ can’t reach and heal.[2] That is good news. That is very good news.
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[1] Trainor, Michael, “The Spirit World of Mark’s Gospel,” Seasons of the Spirit Congregational Life Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, February 1-7, 2009, page 109.
[2] Lewis, Bev, 5EpiphanyB09Mark1.21-28