Long before al-Qu’ida, the PLO, or the IRA, a single man terrorized a small town on the eastern Galilean shore. Naked, this man roamed freely among the tombs and burial plots of the local cemetery. His screams chilled the day and his howls sliced through the night. A man of Herculean strength, the townspeople were unable to restrict him. Chains placed on his wrists were snapped like kindling. Shackles were smashed like fruit in a press. Fear and intimidation oppressed the people. They were in need of rescue.
Jesus hit the shore of this Galilean town focused on His usual routine of preaching, teaching and healing. As He climbed from His boat, the wild man emerged from the cemetery. He recognized Jesus and ran to meet Him.
Jesus knew the man was not of a right mind, that evil held him captive. Jesus immediately commanded the evil spirit to leave the man. But it was a hardened spirit. Bowing low before Jesus, it caused the man to shriek, “Why are you interfering with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In the name of God, I beg you, don’t torture me!” (Mark 5: 7).
Jesus provoked terror in the terrorist.
And with good reason. The spirit was in fact many spirits—at least two thousand. Yet despite their number, they feared the one man before them. Calling Him by name and title, they recognized His power and authority. Only Jesus, Son of God, could end their occupation of this pitiful man.
Jesus did call the spirits out and allowed them to enter a herd of pigs. Two thousand pigs, mad with possession, raced down a steep embankment and into the lake where they drowned. Their confused caretakers fled to town.
As word of the mass swine suicide spread, the townspeople rushed to the shore. There they witnessed their tormentor sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully clothed and rational. And this terrified them more than his screams and howls once had. He was now like one of them. It was more than they could accept. They begged Jesus to move on and leave their town alone.
How can that be? Jesus had removed their greatest fear, and the people of the Geresenes were afraid, not grateful. The mad man faced them, restored and fully functional. And that was more terrifying than a naked man in the cemetery.
Isn’t that our way too? There’s a problem, a danger, a wound that we long to have fixed. Jesus, the healer and restorer, comes to make the situation right again. But sometimes what we want from Him is a bandage, not a cure. A band-aid will cover and protect the injury, but a cure involves time and treatment…sometimes treatment that means additional pain.
We all have fears and anxieties that hold us captive from time to time. Perhaps it’s the terror of a secret from the past that threatens to reveal itself. Maybe it’s the possibility of failure that immobilizes when it’s time for action. Or it could be that you spend valuable time and energy trying to keep up a pretense because of the paralyzing fear of being exposed as the phony you really are.
Isaiah 61:1 – 2 says Jesus comes to “bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives And freedom to prisoners…To comfort all who mourn." His job is to heal and release us from the terrors that hold us hostage. And because He knows all about our life—all the pain and mistakes—He is able to walk us through the healing process. But it is a rebuilding process. It may require working through painful memories or facing difficult truths about yourself or people in your life. It will ultimately require forgiveness. And letting go.
This is where Jesus is often told to move on. Have you been to this point? Jesus can remove your greatest terror, but are you willing to let it go? Letting go of past hurts and secrets, fears, and phony masks may seem to be too much. You may prefer to let go of Jesus. But don’t. Let Him push you on.
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