Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Demons and Authority, Epiphany 4 Year B January 29, 2012


+I think I know why people got so angry with that cruise ship captain who abandoned ship after it ran aground. It was a terrible accident—many people died--- while the Captain jumped (or fell) into a lifeboat rowing away from the disaster and toward safety. But the real disappointment in the whole thing, I think, is that the Captain, by virtue of his title and by virtue of the assumptions we associate with that title, is expected to wield a certain amount of authority. We grant him that authority. He was the captain and captains are expected to go down with the ship, and he didn’t.
Using the same logic, had a meek kitchen worker on the boat led the rescue efforts, speaking with calm yet firm authority, he would have been viewed as a hero-- as one behaving above and beyond the scope of his job and of society’s expectations. We don’t expect a meek kitchen worker to do the rescuing, we expect the captain to. The captain’s authority? Expected. The meek kitchen worker? Surprising.
That’s the authority that catches our attention—the surprising kind.
I remember many years ago when I had an odd bug bite on my leg. My doctor said, “hmm, that looks funny.” He then brought out a textbook, looking it over until he found a bite mark that matched. Good for him that he looked up something he wasn’t sure about but… his “hmmm” and checking out the textbook didn’t engender confidence in his authority.
We want our doctors, our lawyers, our teachers, our Bishops, our cruise ship captains, to exude authority, to teach with conviction, to lead without blemish.
When someone, in a time of crisis, calmly takes charge and leads people into safety, we are comforted. Comforted by their  authoritative  teaching, speaking and leading.
By the same token, it’s terrible when someone who is expected to wield authority , doesn’t… like the ship’s captain…. or when someone acts as if they ‘re in control but they really have no idea what to do or how to do it. A weak leader is a dangerous leader. So maybe, in the long run, it was better that the cruise ship captain abandoned ship. If he couldn’t lead he shouldn’t have attempted too.
Jesus was clearly an unexpected leader, a surprising voice of authority. Today we meet Jesus just after he’s called his first disciples, people who willingly left their families, their livelihood. Why? Well, there was something about this guy—Nathanael says it’s because Jesus knew all about him. The others are quieter on the why, they just felt something, were drawn by his authority, compelled by his leadership.
It’s about a 10-minute walk from the shore of the Sea of Galilee up to Capernaum. The synagogue sits on the edge of town, overlooking the sea…. I can picture it: Jesus, walking into the synagogue and without paying any heed to the other people gathered, speaking and teaching with an authority unlike anything those in attendance had heard or seen.
Even though his authority was surprising, it was easily recognized. Folks took notice right away...because people notice genuine authentic authority. It is clear, it is compelling and people respond to it.
So do demons.
The demon in today’s Gospel recognized Jesus right away—it notices how Jesus exhibits a genuine, authentic authority and it immediately begins to try and challenge him—for although the demon recognizes Jesus’ true identity, the demon doesn’t know if Jesus realizes it yet.
Which is precisely why we read this story in Epiphany—the season when we, along with Jesus, learn the full scope of Jesus’ nature.
The demon’s clever: because if Jesus hadn’t realized his divine authority yet, the demon may be able to gain the upper hand, but Jesus didn’t flinch, speaking “harshly to the demon, commanding it to come out of the afflicted man.” The demon, no fool, realizes he has met his match, and departs. The demon recognizes the authority and responds to it by departing, just as the one who was speaking with authority, commanded.
Jesus, with the authority granted to him by God, with the authority exuding in the confidence and firmness of his harsh voice, leads the action, avoiding the attempted hijacking by the demon. Jesus takes charge and with God given authority and his own divine willingness to exercise that authority—he kicked the demon to the curb, making room for the manifestation of his mission—to bring the presence of God into every nook and cranny of the human experience.
 For just as Jesus figuring out his identity and his mission was his Epiphany task, our Epiphany task is to continue that mission, being Jesus’ hands and feet, eyes and ears, here on earth. Our task is to speak the Good News with authority. Our task is to challenge the demons of our own lives with that voice of authority, breaking open space in our lives for the Kingdom of God to flourish. Right here and Right now.
To do this, we need to accept the authority granted to us at our baptism.(“you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own, forever.” BCP 308).
To do this we must recognize the demons in our lives and speak harshly to them, kicking them to the curb, making room for the Holy Spirit.
What are your demons, where do they hide? Do they recognize your willingness to grasp the mantle of authority or do they recognize your hesitancy to stand up for the mission outlined by Christ and given over to us?
In some ways it would be nice if our demons were as overt and obvious as the one in today’s Gospel. Truth is, most of our demons are quieter, subtler, and more insidious.
They can be difficult to identify and they can be even more difficult to release, to throw out. You see, our demons have a certain pay off for each of us, there are things about our demons which entice and seduce us, making it easier, in the short run, to stick with them instead of kicking them to the curb, allowing space for the Holy Spirit to move in and do her work. For as much as our demons keep us in the old familiar places, the Holy Spirit almost always takes us to places unfamiliar and uncomfortable to us; risky, scary and  strange places.
For it is only in the risky, the scary and the strange that true growth happens.
Look around. Each and everyone of us here this evening has risked a lot to be here---folks from Ascension and Good Shepherd have seen your share of demons: of losses, of changes, of challenges. Trust has been violated, promises broken and hopes dashed. Yet here we all are,  willing to try something all together new, willing to kick those demons to the curb, opening up space for the Holy Spirit to lead us into the risky, scary and strange places of growth and renewal. +

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