Jesus Christ Casts out Demons
Sermon for the 15th Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Ross M. Wright
Text: Mark 9:14-29
Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit and said to it, “You spirit that keeps this boy from speaking and hearing, I command you, come out of him, and never enter him again!”
(Mark 9:25)
There is a malignant force at work in the universe. It is intelligent, it powerful, and it is bent on destroying God’s work. Jesus Christ came to do battle with and to defeat the devil. The short story writer, Flannery O’Connor, once said, “All of my stories are about the action of grace in territory largely occupied by the devil.”1 Our gospel passage today witnesses to the action of grace in enemy occupied territory.
At the beginning of the narrative, the main actor is the evil spirit. It is intelligent, it makes plans, and it has a will – it seeks to destroy the young boy. When the boy’s father describes the spirit, he uses strong action verbs: the evil spirit seizes him, throws him on the ground; makes him gnash his teeth and foam at the mouth. It throws him into the fire and the water and tries to destroy him.
The symptoms which Mark describes sound very much like an epileptic seizure. There is a real danger at this point, however, of missing what Mark is saying. We may read the text with a somewhat superior attitude, thinking: Mark obviously didn’t know what we know about epilepsy. What he calls an evil spirit, we now know is a form of neurological disorder. True, Mark did not have our scientific knowledge. Jesus himself did not possess the medical, scientific explanations which we have. But if we leave it at that, we miss what Mark’s point: Jesus Christ casts out demons. Christ is the strongman who has come to bind up evil spirits and to set us free. Whenever Jesus Christ is present, there is a clash between the powers and principalities of darkness.
Notice that the spirit recognizes Jesus and goes into action as soon as he senses Jesus’ presence. When the risen Christ is present, the powers and principalities of evil come out in full force. When a person or community responds to the call of Christ and begins with walk with God, the assault of evil begins to be felt. It is when there is power for good that demonic spirits are most active. The attack of the evil one is not necessarily dramatic; often it comes the form of garden variety sins. Flannery O’Connor once wrote that she could not “claim any interesting or pleasurable sins . . . but I know all about the garden variety, pride, gluttony, envy and sloth, and what is more to the point, my virtues are as timid as my vices.”2
One of the themes of Mark’s gospel is the question of faith: Who has authentic faith? In this gospel, faith is often found where we least expect it. In this encounter with evil, Jesus’ disciples seem to lack faith. They are not able to cast out the demonic spirit, and Jesus is visibly irritated at their lack of faith. The boy’s father, on the other hand, has enough faith to bring his child to Jesus. And he has enough chutzpah to step up to Jesus in the sight of the crowd and explain the situation. He is bold enough to make a negative report on the disciples; “I brought you my son . . . . And I asked your disciples to cast it out but they could not do so.” The man is also persistent. He says to Jesus “But if you can do anything, have pity on us and help us.” Does that statement express faith or doubt? A mixture of both. Jesus recognizes both the faith and the doubt, and names it: “If you are able? All things are possible for the one who believes.” And then, we hear one of the most authentic prayers in the entire New Testament: “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!”
Authentic faith often occurs on the narrow ridge between faith and doubt, between hope and despair. Sometimes we believe; at other times, we are so disappointed that the whole business of the Christian life seems questionable. Imagine a person who is what we might call “a serious Christian.” She has a deep faith. She grew up in a Christian home. She is involved in the Christian community. But then she experiences a series of setbacks. Eventually, she comes to the place where she says: I don’t know if I really believe this anymore. But God, if you’re out there, if you hear this prayer, we need some help here. At what point did she have living faith? There is a depth to faith which exists on the knife edge between faith and despair.
For most of the beginning of this narrative, Jesus is in the background. But Mark makes it clear that Jesus is in complete control of the situation. This is evident, first, by his statement: “All things are possible to the one who believes.” And then, notice how he deals with the evil spirit. He calls it by name. When he commands it to leave, it leaves. He speaks with sovereign power: “You spirit that keeps this boy from speaking and hearing, I command you, come out of him, and never enter him again!” Finally, he demonstrates his power over death. After the evil spirit leaves, the boy appears dead. Jesus takes him by the hand and raises him up – a prefiguring of the resurrection. One day, Jesus Christ will return in power. “The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised.” (I Cor. 15: 52). Jesus Christ will call us by name and say: Arise and come forth!
That is why Jesus alone can say with authority: “All things are possible.” Who else can say that with authority? Deepak Chopra? Zig Ziegler and the speakers at his personal motivation seminars which come to town once a year? The message there, too, is “believe and all things are possible.” I don’t doubt that positive thinking can have an effect on performance. But it is still human performance. Sooner or later, there is a limit to all things human. No amount of positive thinking can stop the aging process. When you’re at the bedside of someone you love who is gravely ill, it is the voice of Jesus Christ that ultimately matters.
Mark’s narrative ends with the disciples looking slightly confused: “Why couldn’t we cast it out?” Jesus’ response doesn’t seem entirely consistent with his earlier rebuke for their lack of faith. “This kind can come out only through prayer.” Now the focus is not on faith, but prayer. Spiritual warfare requires spiritual weapons. “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness . . . Therefore put on the full armor of God . . . [and] Pray in the spirit at all times” (Eph. 6:12;18). Some evil can be driven out only by praying against it for years – resentment over past hurts, compulsive behavior. We are called to wrestle in prayer against “the powers and principalities of evil, against this present darkness.”
The Lord Jesus Christ invites us to his table this morning. Holy Eucharist is the victory feast of Christ, the Lamb of God who has taken away the sins of the world and won the victory over the powers of evil. He invites us to come and share in his victory feast, in repentance and faith.
1 This phrase and similar expressions of the same idea are found throughout here letters, The Habit of Being, ed., Sally Fitzgerald (New York: Vintage, 1980).
2 The Habit of Being, 92.