(Mark 1.21-28} 31 January 2021
Neil Millar
Last week, we took our first deeper dive into the text of Mark’s gospel, and immediately (to use a common Markan word) we plunged into the action of the call and following of Jesus’ first disciples. This week, as you’ve just heard, the drama continues, as Jesus and these new followers visit Capernaum a busy town (a Roman outpost) on the edge of lake Galilee. It’s the sabbath, the day the Jewish community gathers for worship, and Jesus: ‘entered the synagogue and taught’.
There’s no detail given about the content of Jesus’ teaching at this point though the impact is acknowledged. According to Mark, ‘they were astounded at his teaching, for he taught as one having authority, and not as the scribes’. Now, there’s no question that the scribes, and scribal teaching, had measure of authority; the appeal to tradition, for a start – much as a lawyer appeals to precedent. But with Jesus, it’s different. With Jesus, the teaching and the teacher are as one. The Greek word for authority used here is exousia; it’s a compound of ex, ‘out of’ and ousia, ‘being’. Jesus’ authority bears the mark of absolute integrity and divinity, and it is compelling, convicting, confronting. This is what Mark is trying to convey here, the impact of his authority. I venture to say that no one fell asleep in this sermon!!
Quite the opposite, in fact, ‘they were astounded’. This word astounded is meant to convey more than just being surprised or impressed; there’s also a sense here of people being stirred, startled, stretched. It’s what happens when we encounter the active presence and claim of God. All of which helps to explain what happens next.
In the stirring intensity of Jesus’ presence and teaching, some cracks appear in the veneer of order in the synagogue. ‘Just then’, we’re told, a man with an unclean spirit cried out. An unclean spirit, what’s that? Some versions have ‘evil spirit’ or ‘demon’, but literally, in Greek, it’s an ‘unclean spirit’. It’s hard to be sure exactly what this is, no other explanation is given. What is clear, however, is the impact of this ‘spirit’ on this man’s life and community, which is to defile and disrupt – to dominate, alienate and interfere. The man is disturbed by this spirit, and the spirit is disturbed by Jesus. Up until this point, perhaps, he’s held it together; looked and acted more or less like everyone else, but now it unravels; the spirit reacts… yells out. ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’
There is something about Jesus that is deeply threatening to this spirit, and its anxious cry is ‘laden with the language of defence and resistance’, William Lane writes in his commentary on Mark (1974.73). Lane goes on to say that its claim, ‘I know who you are, the Holy One of God’ is not a confession of dignity but is rather an attempt to disarm Jesus, to secure power over him by displaying its supposedly superior, ‘insider’ knowledge. In that regard Jesus’s response is telling. Notice that before he releases or delivers the man, he rebukes the spirit saying, ‘Be silent’ (literally, ‘be muzzled’). Why did he do this?
Well, I wonder if it has to do with Jesus first restoring his own place and authority. The spirit sought to gain mastery over him, to control him, by naming him; and Jesus frees himself, seizes back the initiative by silencing the spirit. At this point he commands it to release the man: ‘Come out of him’. ‘And’, says Mark, ‘the unclean spirit convulsing him and crying with a loud shriek, came out of him’. Talk about drama. Once again, Mark notes that the crowd was astounded, and the word goes out: ‘he commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’
Now, what to make of all of this? Does it all seem a bit overheated and removed from our situation? Is it all a bit primitive?
These days, with our psychological understanding of human motivation and behaviour, we might question if this man was in fact possessed by an alien spiritual being. Talk of devils and demons sounds unscientific and detached from the experience of most of us. Yet, he’s clearly in the grip of some alienating force. Something is corrupting his way of seeing and being in the world. And, to a greater or lesser extent, most of us know about that. It might be anxiety that robs you of peace – a ‘spirit’ of worry, or even dread, that keeps you awake at night and on edge by day. It might be a struggle with addiction – the ‘demon’ drink, the ‘one armed bandit’, the ‘dark’ web. Or maybe it’s the spirit of resentment that eats away at you, or anger, or envy, or inferiority; some irrational compulsion; a debilitating disorder. Mostly, we don’t identify these explicitly with demonic activity. Often, they seem connected with some earlier emotional wounding or past trauma. Even so, they diminish our lives, and often have an impact on others as well.
In the passage, because of his outburst, this man is singled out. But note also where it all takes place – this story; in the synagogue. This man wasn’t some weird pariah eking out his existence in a seedy Capernaum ghetto. On the contrary, he was there at worship; along with everyone else. Was he really that different from the others; or us? And if, like him, we know something of the experience of oppression by ‘spirits’ that diminish our living, what in this story might support our greater freedom?
At this point, I want to return to that move of Jesus to silence the interjecting, unclean spirit. As I’ve pondered the story this week, I’ve had the wistful thought a number of times (and not for the first time): If only it was as easy as telling whatever it is that’s oppressing us to ‘go and it did’; a quick prayer, and bingo – freedom! But mostly it’s not that easy. The process of release from self-destructive patterns (in our personal lives and at the level of society) takes time; it may involve many convulsions and loud cries, for these oppressive dynamics tend to be entrenched and obstinate. And, in practice, before the voices that mislead and agitate us are silenced, we may need to listen to the need or hurt or wound that has given rise to them and to which they’ve become attached.
But in the end, we must be willing to call them out, to give them up, to stop dignifying them with our attention – refusing to let them dictate the terms. As Jesus does in this story. As the spirit is silenced, so its undermining power, its hold, weakens. ‘Be silent and come out of him’ Jesus says. He starts by taking authority and silencing the intrusive voice, and that’s something we can learn and, in his strength, practice. Notice, this isn’t about silencing those whose voices too often go unheard, silencing the cries of the oppressed (including what’s oppressed in us). Rather, it’s about releasing us from the thrall of those pernicious voices (within and without) that alienate us from ourselves and from the good; springing the trap on those habits of mind that compulse and debilitate us, that resist fullness of life.
Meditation is a practice that strengthens our muscle for letting unwanted thoughts go. In meditation we practice silence outwardly and inwardly, let go of distractions (including these diminishing thoughts and voices). We do this in order to open up to the Spirit and Word of God. There are other practices that can help with this, and maybe if things have really taken hold, we need the support and prayer of others as well. This is where counsellors, spiritual directors and support groups can really help. What doesn’t help, certainly in my experience, is simply capitulating to the undermining voice, letting it go unrebuked, unchecked, as if it alone calls the shots.
The people in the synagogue at Capernaum are astounded by Jesus’ authority and the way he exercises it in word and deed. We may not yet have that kind of power, but we can call on his help and stand in our own God-given authority. In Mark’s gospel there are a number of stories of people doing this – the Syrophoenician woman, Jairus the synagogue ruler, blind Bartimaeus to name three. They refuse to be dismissed, they take a stand for their liberation, and on each occasion, Jesus stands with and helps them; affirms them for exercising real faith. It’s as if that’s what he wants us to do – to call on him as we take a stand for our lives and loved ones. This is the kingdom that is at hand…the good news we turn to, and believe.