Unfolding Joy: The Joy of Being Heard

Mark 1:21-28

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 the 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 Nazareth? 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, throwing him into convulsions 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 throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

Ugh. This is such a good story. No seriously, it is. I mean, it’s weird and inaccessible but it’s so good.

Sure, it’s wanting for a little character development as most of Mark’s gospel is. The details are sparse. Jesus is in the synagogue, teaching, as Jesus does. He’s impressing people. People are like, who’s this guy? He’s astounding.

Then, suddenly, a new character bursts on the scene and he runs up to Jesus and has this exorcist kind of moment.

“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.”

Fabulous line. So good.

This again is a consistent theme throughout Mark’s gospel. The people who are supposed to know and understand who Jesus is, don’t get it. And the ones who do, demons for example, aren’t super trustworthy. 

“I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”

Is it a taunt? A threat? Is this unclean spirit trying to exert influence over Jesus? 

After all, to name someone is to exert some measure of control or influence. It’s why God refuses to be pinned down by Moses. God says, I will be who I will be. Or I am who I am.

Here you have something demonic, or at the very least something that is opposed to God’s purposes, trying to name Jesus.

“I know who you are…”

This past week I was exercising in the basement. #COVID. Yeah, I know, good for me. Little self back-pat. 

Anyway, I was finessing along with an uber fit, super energetic instructor who was yelling at me through my screen to do things I really didn’t want to do. At one point, while listening to “Sabotage” by the Beastie Boys, she yelled out, “The only thing that can sabotage your progress is this [pointing to her head]. Don’t let this [again with the heading pointing] get in the way of what this [not pointing to her heart] really wants.”

Admittedly, I’m not one who is easily motivated by these kinds of things. Typically, if it can fit on an inspiration poster, I’m not real interested in spending any time thinking about it. I find demotivational posters far more fun. As a 5 on the Enneagram, my favorite is, “Meetings: None of us is as dumb as all of us!” 

But this one has kind of stuck with me. For whatever reason Kendall’s, she’s totally a Kendall, challenge hit me differently. My brain sabotages me all the time. Because when I think about it, the first thing that gets in the way of change is this (points to my head). I’m my own walking, talking demotivational poster. 

I know who you are… I know what little you’re capable of. I know why you can’t succeed, won’t accomplish anything, will never finish this. 

“Have you come to destroy us?”

Fear. Isn’t that what is beneath it all? Fear? Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear of change or inadequacy or loss or isolation or…

Man, and when we’re afraid don’t we hold on tighter, like with an iron-fist grip? When we don’t understand or feel like what we’ve known and is safe and is familiar, is under assault, isn’t that when we fight the hardest to cling to what we perceive to be ours?

Because it’s a threat. We’re afraid that we know, who we are, what we’ve built will be destroyed. Even if we don’t like any of it very much, even if we complain and lament its shortcomings, at least it’s our mess; and we don’t like anymore coming in to tell us all that is wrong with it.

And Jesus is a threat to our mess.

Jesus is an existential threat to our world and its systems and structures. He’s a threat to our worldview. Jesus is a threat to you and to me. Jesus promises death to the old and that new life will emerge.

But I’m afraid. And when I’m afraid I fight like hell to hold onto what is.

“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.”

As we make our way through this story in the weeks to come, we’ll see that the demons are right. Jesus is intent on destroying them. He’s committed to this conflict, this battle. Jesus will use the power and presence of God to cast out, to expel, and to silence the forces in this world that work against God’s purposes. Jesus is fully intent on changing this world.

He’s just not going to play by the rules of this world. Jesus’ power is going to manifest itself differently. It’s no less frightening, but it is life-giving. So where we and the powers of this world cling desperately and violently to what we believe to be ours, Jesus gives it away. All of it. Jesus gives his life, so that you and I and all of creation will be set free from all that we cling to. Jesus gives it all for you. 

Now it’s not easy. Letting go is never easy. We still will try and convince ourselves that what we have and what we know is better than the life that Jesus offers and calls us to live.

In full disclosure, I never finished the workout. My brain won. It told me I couldn’t keep up and I turned it off. There will be those days. But those days are fleeting. Those days are finite. Those days will come to an end.

To those voices within us and around us and in our world, Jesus says, “Be silent, and come out.” You have no power here.

Jesus hears our protests. Jesus hears our fear. Jesus knows us and calls to us anyway. Be still and come out.

It’s a call that comes to us each and every day. It’s a call that is given to us, like Clark Francis [baptized today] in the waters of baptism, and it goes with us throughout our lives. It’s a call that cuts through our fears and says to us your way forward is in me. Now and forevermore. Amen.