I find stories like this in the Biblical text a bit scratchy. I’m never quite sure how I feel about the prevalence of demon possession and exorcisms in the life and times of Jesus. The presence of demons has been spoken of in the world across times and cultures. In this day and age talk of demon possession happens, yet it isn’t something easy to wrap our heads around. We lean towards scientific and medical language to help explain the complexities of the patterns and behaviors of human beings in the world.

Which is another reason I find these texts scratchy – because my postmodern – or perhaps even post postmodern – or metamodern – brain has a hard time when the use of demon possession language in scripture passages seems to equate demons with what we might now identify as mental, socio-economic, or physical health conditions. How do we receive these texts without applying the definitions and assumptions of our times – understandings that might invite us down a harmful path of correlating complex mental health, addiction, differently-abled, neurodiverse, or socio-economic experiences with demonic possession? On the surface, we might be tempted to draw connections between those experiences and what the story is referring to, yet when we take in the story with the context and perspective of its time in mind, we begin to understand that these stories are not set on drawing those connections. I say this to invite us into mindfulness as we explore this story – and perhaps open ourselves up to the possibilities of metaphor it might offer. Mindfulness about the assumptions we are holding and mindfulness about the connections we might draw across time and culture so that we might refrain from connections that may cause harm while we lean towards connections that point us towards life.

It’s not just us, in this time, who hear different layers in the stories of scripture. This story is, on the surface, a story of a person possessed by demons who is released from that captivity while the captor demons are set upon a herd of pigs who run off a cliff and die. It is a story that showcases the power and identity of Jesus and of Jesus using that power to offer freedom and healing. Yet for those hearing this story when it would have been written down, in the time of the ancient Roman world, this story would be nearly impossible to hear without drawing a connection to the oppression of Roman occupation to the entire incident. For example:

The story is about a person living under the occupation of a powerful outside force that impacts what kind of life this person has access to. The life of the individual experiencing this occupation is restricted: they have been marginalized, forced away from their community to live in isolation among the tombs at the edge of town. When asked to identify itself, the occupying force calls itself: Legion – a term meaning a unit of about 6,000 Roman Soldiers. To the ears of those in that time, this demonic force isn’t simply a demon – it is the occupying oppressor of their own time. This is no longer a simple story about an individual – it is an expose on the social and political powers of their time. And it flows on from there – the original language the writer uses is language that evokes imagery of battlefields, as well as chains used to bind prisoners, and even the use of pigs as the channel through which the demons are defeated would have brought to mind a particular Legion – the 10th Legion – that had a boar – a pig image – as one of its symbols. This is very much complex political commentary, not a simple story of one person’s experience with demonic possession. Naming that helps put into perspective the fear of the pig keepers and the surrounding community upon having the herd being overtaken and destroyed. The very structures they live under are being challenged. The story spreads through the town and people come running to see the results for themselves and they find the person who had been naked and suffering sitting with Jesus – clothed and freely present in body and mind. They are overcome with fearful awe and panic.

The power on display through Jesus is one that disrupts the order of the day – it proclaims freedom from oppression through a peaceful force stronger than the power of empire. Not everyone is ready for the disruption of systems. For some, the power of a system fuels their own power. For others, the structure of a system offers a framework for safety, predictability, and stability. For others, fear of the unknown prevents curiosity about the possibilities that goodness and life thrive beyond the familiar structures of the system at hand. Those perspectives ask Jesus to leave the region – to not disrupt what they understand – even when the disruption that Jesus is displaying is a disruption that leads to freedom, healing, and new life.

And here, I think, we can pause in thinking through how those in the writer’s time would have heard these words in order to name how we, in our own time, recognize and resonate with the themes on display. We are certainly living in a time of empire disguised as freedom that thrives on systems of oppression, marginalization, and isolation. The forces of those systems are hard at work attempting to maintain the status quo – though the status quo that is being touted is an outdated structure that prioritizes and serves a select few. The impact of those forces swirls within and around us hoping we will settle in and accept their influence with ease.

Unfortunately for those forces, we are followers of Jesus. We learn from Jesus how to identify and disrupt death-dealing forces that thrive on oppression, marginalization, and isolation in order to make space for justice, radical love, and connection. What forces are at play within and around us in need of disruption? As the story reveals – the forces at play within and around us may be political, social, spiritual, physical, impacting us on communal or personal levels.

Let’s take a moment to hold some space together around this question – what forces are at play within and around us in need of disruption?

I will name a couple that come to my mind: fear-mongering, a court system that refuses to even consider the value of sacred space yet acts to support the dehumanization of transgender people, military actions that drop bombs, misogyny, ongoing raids to capture, detain, and deport, and temptation within my own spirit in moments to let go of hope.

I invite you to name additional forces in need of disruption – speak them aloud from where you are, mumble them under your breath, or hold them in your heart.

Once we identify them, how might we lean towards life-giving disruption? Once again we can look to Jesus, who models that identifying and naming these forces is the first step towards their disruption. In the Luke passage, Jesus was just stepping from the boat when he encountered the person possessed by demons. And it is the person – or perhaps the forces inside them who speaks first – asking:

“What do you want from me, Jesus, Only Begotten of the Most High God? I beg you, don’t torture me!” —for Jesus was ordering the unclean spirit to come out of the person.

Before even speaking with the person, Jesus had already spotted a force in need of disruption present within them and was ordering it to leave. And when the Spirit fought the request to leave, Jesus goes one step further to identify it by asking it to self-identify:

“What is your name?”

This is Jesus bearing witness as an act of disruption. Jesus spots an oppressive force at work and pays attention to it. The act of even noticing it is disruptive to that force – because it calls it out – puts it on display and Jesus goes another step further to seek accountability by asking it to identify itself. This is the life-giving, disruptive power of bearing witness.

Bearing witness draws attention to the impact of forces at play. It doesn’t allow them to be about their work unquestioned. And it makes space for alternative possibilities by seeking accountability.

How are we about the disruptive work of bearing witness? Let’s take a moment to hold some space together around this question – How are we about the work of bearing witness?

I will name a couple of ways that come to my mind: we bear witness to injustice by showing up in protest and by singing in solidarity. We show up with presence to seek accountability. We extend hospitality – offering spaces of refuge, rest, and supplies. We make art. We celebrate Pride. We gather together in community, strengthening connections, extending care and love. We hold onto hope.

I invite you to name additional actions and spaces of bearing witness – speak them aloud from where you are, mumble them under your breath, or hold them in your heart.

Bearing witness isn’t solely about the work of disrupting oppressive forces. It is also an invitation for us to identify and name the spaces we encounter God’s presence swirling in and around us. Identifying the presence and impact of Love is a disruptive force to those things that would impede its flow, and it is also a freeing and healing force that makes space for life to thrive.

When those who were there witnessed the exorcism of the demonic forces and saw the herd of pigs destroyed, they ran away to tell the story to others – they testified to what they witnessed and invited others to hold the space of that experience with them. Bearing witness is only part of the equation – the act of testifying – of sharing the stories of what we witness is an act of invitation and connection with others. Testifying to what we are witnessing, disrupting that which is death dealing, and naming where and how we are witnessing and experiencing healing and loving presence is part of how we participate in being God’s restorative, just, freeing, and healing love in the world. For many in the Gerasene community, still caught up in the forces of their perceived expectations, the encounter induced fear and they didn’t know what to do with it and were unwilling, or not ready, to make space for what they didn’t understand – so they asked Jesus to leave.

For the individual who was set free from the occupation of their body, mind, and spirit, it was an encounter of restoration and healing. Sometimes we bear witness on behalf of others in community – and other times – we are witness to the transformative movement of God’s presence within our own selves. Having experienced the impact and possibilities of God’s love at work – they asked Jesus if they could accompany him and the disciples as they left the region – they were ready and willing to join in the movement of God’s love in the world. But instead of inviting the person to join them, Jesus instead invites them to go home – to go to their own community – the one that they had been isolated from for so long and to bear witness and testify to what they had happened by experiencing the continuing healing of God’s love in and through connection with others and by being the presence of God’s love for others in that space.

There are oppressive forces around us that thrive on disconnection, violence, marginalization, despair, and isolation. And there are creative forces around us making space for life, connection, justice, healing, and love. May we be people who bear witness and testify to all the forces swirling around us – disrupting where needed and joining in the healing and goodness of God’s love where we are able.