As one having authority

Mark 1: 21-28, NT page 35 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, convulsing him 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. Sermon There is a lot to love about Columbia, Tennessee – and while some of what is great about this place I’ve gotten used to, there are advantages to living in this community that I still can’t help but be thankful for. Let me give you two examples just from the past week. On Tuesday morning I walked to Muletown Coffee on the square to pick up three cups of coffee. Justin took my order, he prepared the coffee in cups with lids, I paid for the coffee, and then he apologized that there weren’t any carriers to put the coffee in to make it easier for me to transport all three cups back to the church. I told him not to worry about it, that I was excellent at balancing things; then I demonstrated by placing one cup on top of the other and walked out of the coffee shop to the sidewalk – two cups of coffee in one hand, one cup in the other. Apparently he wasn’t as impressed with my balancing skills as I was, because he followed me out the door, took two of the cups and walked with me all the way back to the church to make sure I didn’t end up with coffee spilled all over myself. Now that kind of thing doesn’t happen everywhere. Something else that doesn’t always happen, that not everyone is able to do and that I give thanks for almost daily is that on the days our daughter Cece goes to preschool she rides with me to the church. At 9:00 AM we run down the sidewalk together, then she pushes the button for the crosswalk and when traffic stops and it’s safe to go we hold hands to cross the street on our way to the First Methodist Church Preschool. Last week we were walking together and I told her that one of my favorite things in the world to do is to walk her to school. She looked up and told me, “Daddy, I love to walk you to school.” Now here’s the point – sometimes the lines that we draw between customer and coffee shop employee – between father and daughter – between gift giver and gift receiver – teacher and student – authority and subject – sometimes these lines blur and all of a sudden the one who thought he was walking his daughter to school becomes the one who is being walked to school by his daughter. That’s part of the danger with putting a title on a passage of Scripture. By putting on a title like the one give to our lesson: “The Man with an Unclean Spirit,” we run the risk of making an assumption about who is in charge here and what is about to happen. The title might set us up to hear about another instance of Jesus as is the great physician who heals a man in the synagogue, but is there not more going on in this passage than just that? “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.”” If their synagogue was anything like our church than the line between who was teacher and who was student should have been easy enough to determine. The one standing behind the pulpit was supposed to be the one with all the answers, and if it wasn’t enough that on this particular morning some man no one has ever seen before enters the synagogue, not to listen but to teach – there’s an even more dramatic interruption when the man with an unclean spirit cries out before everyone to unsettle even Christ himself by asking, “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.” Now who is the teacher and who is the student? Who is doing the walking and who is being walked? Who is the servant and who is being served? Is this man the recipient of Jesus’ favor, is he the one being healed, or is the more important aspect of this passage from the Gospel of Mark the way in which Jesus is identified as “the Holy One of God” by this unclean spirt who knows him better than the members of the synagogue, knows him better even than Christ knows himself. One morning I was sitting in front of my computer trying to write a sermon. It was a few years ago while I was serving Good Shepherd Presbyterian Church just outside Atlanta and the sermon was of particular importance. The church was closer than it should have been to closing her doors due to a severe budget deficit, and I was sitting there trying to figure out how to articulate what I felt – that the church couldn’t close, that it was too important, but I didn’t know how to say that because I’m not sure I really knew the answer myself. I was anxious, and time was running out, I needed the sermon to write itself but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to be interrupted but I was, because this was the year when the floods came to Middle Tennessee and there was a bridge out down the road from this church too; so two men came to the church, soaking wet. Their car was under water and they didn’t know what to do next. I stopped writing, and it just so happened that there were clothes that fit, there was even food to eat there at the church, so the men changed into dry clothes ate a little something, then they started making phone calls and soon we were putting the men in a taxi. They needed help, and they found that help at the church and when I realized that I finally had a sermon worth writing – but it was the interruption to my day, these two men who needed our help that defined our purpose and gave the church the clear reason why they couldn’t just close their doors. It’s strange that it took two men off the street to give that church meaning and purpose, but sometimes that’s how it goes for people, and even the one with authority gains a sense of his identity and purpose by listening to the people who interrupt him. First there was John the Baptist who called him the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit. Then there was the voice who spoke from heaven as he was baptized by John in the Jordan saying, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” From Scripture read and proclaimed he found his voice, but it is the voice of interruption, the unexpected voice of an evil spirit that tells him who he truly is. So it’s nice to hear what mama has to say about you. Yearbook day comes and you flip through the pages, read the notes that your friends have written about you. If it’s Christmas time you watch it’s a Wonderful Life and you imagine what the movie would be like if you were George Baily, when you go to funerals maybe you imagine what they’ll have to say about you when it’s your time. You can learn about yourself that way, but sometimes we do not know who we truly are until the daemon speaks. Evil is loose on the world, and hardship, trial, tragedy, and disappointment – it is our greatest challenges that teach us the most about who we are and what we’re capable of. It was after watching Pearl Harbor that my grandmother taught this lesson to my mother. We finished watching the movie, it wasn’t the good one, it was the one with Ben Affleck, but one of the scenes affected my mother. It was as the wounded sailors flooded the little clinic. One nurse was sent out there with a tube of lip stick. She was asked to mark those who had a chance of surviving with one sign, those who didn’t with another, so that the doctors would know who to spend their time on. My mother told us that she wouldn’t have been able to do it, that this nurse in the movie had some strength that she didn’t, but my grandmother looked at her and said, “Cathy, you’ve never been able to see how strong you really are. In a situation like that you would surprise yourself.” There are tests in life, and in the words of the great anthropologist Joseph Campbell, heroes and villains navigate the same deep water. What drowns one redeems the other. We all wander through life wondering if we’re strong enough, if we can do it, we wonder who we are and what we are here for. You may not find out how strong you truly are until you hear the voice of the one you don’t want to hear, but don’t forget that he teaches a lesson that you need to learn. That there is more strength in you than you realize. Listen to hardship and struggle. Listen to curses as well as blessings, and do not fail to hear the terror in his voice: “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.” Because of who Christ is and who he is to you, the war is over. The battle is won. Claim your strength and do not be afraid. Amen.