Afraid

We're giving credit where credit is due - to the demoniac who was living with both the stigma of his condition and (as it turns out, "many") demons who literally drove pigs off a cliff. And, of course, to you. And to everyone else who is living with demons they can't seem to overcome. 

That's where we start, but we can't end there. Because the story isn't over yet. 

And the story...doesn't end the way that you think it would. 

Because what we think would happen - what we would want to happen - is that the guy gets healed from his demons, he gets better, the townsfolk welcome him back with open arms, and he spends the rest of his life as living proof of what happens when you overcome your demons. 

But that's not what happens. 

Jesus comes along, speaks directly to the demons, casts them out into a herd of pigs, who then go careening off a cliff, and the man is suddenly left standing there, "clothed and in his right mind." 

And the people are terrified.  

In fact, the people are so afraid, they tell Jesus He has to leave. Now. 

And, well, what's up with that?

I think the same thing is up with that that's up with our culture today. I think everyone is intimidated by someone who knows how to handle demons. 

We celebrate the wins when we see them. Of course, we do. But there's something in us that sees the win and can't help but think of our own losses. We see the demons come out of the man, and we think of the ones we're still wrestling with. 

We see the addict get clean, but we can't shake the chains that still hold us back. 

We see the anxious person find peace, but something in us remains unsettled. 

We see the depressed person find purpose, but we aren't sure what we're supposed to do next with our own life. 

Seeing demons cast out reminds us of the things we haven't been able to rid our own lives of  yet, so there's something unsettling about being in the presence of someone who knows how to handle their demons. 

If they can do it, so can I, right? But I haven't been able to. So what's wrong with me? 

It's not really fear. It's shame. It's this sense that after being so strong for so long, after putting up such a good fight, after creating a reasonable facade that makes me look more functional than I am, all of a sudden, I'm standing in the presence of someone fully clothed and in their right mind, and I feel naked. 

So go on. Get. Get out of here. Get away from me. Because I haven't figured out what to do with my demons yet. I haven't been able to handle them the way you have. I'm still feeling the weight of these chains on my wrists. And I don't know what to do now except to ask you...

Please go away. 

Because those demons just killed an entire herd of pigs. Just like that. 

And I'm still afraid of what mine might do.