I sat, sheepishly, with my head down, my eyes fixated on the floor and could not shake the feeling that everyone elses eyes held me in their grip within the small synagogue that I used to attend so long ago; my absence first began with weeks until it turned to months, the months to years and now years into decades. How could a man stray so very far? My emotions, those of embarrassment, shame, humiliation, guilt and hypocrisy washed over me with great volume. I could hear the demon within taunting me with his never-ending barrage of negativity. His voice, always there, cruel and constant with malicious intent unwittingly began the replay of my earlier morning…
It was very late, actually early morning, and the darkness, both in the atmosphere and my life, was all consuming. There were only a few hardened drinkers left, all so very inebriated as was I, in one of the worst establishments within our small village known for its extreme debauchery. Laying upon the dirt floor, awakening to only a small singular candle flickering in the corner, it too almost extinguished, revealed along with the concentrated smell of urine, the sad reality that I had wet myself completely. Desperate to stand, I carefully placed my hand upon the table near to me, attempting to lift myself yet once again, but the excruciating pain encompassing the entirety of my body refused my feeble effort. I lay, motionless, consumed in my blurred thoughts of utter ruin. I had tried, repeatedly, with as much alcohol as I could consume, to mask the pain, the disappointments and the failures that not only held me tightly in their grasp but more importantly he that possessed me refused his departure from within.
Lately the incidents with the demon, so very vile and disgusting, became more frequent and exceedingly more violent; the dark entity took great comfort in taking further control of my life even when I tried to resist. The physical thrashings became more frequent hence the greater levels of alcohol abuse and I was trapped in a cycle of repetition seemingly incapable of release.
Without warning, the demons voice simply stopped and to my surprise I could hear so clearly the voice of the one they called Jesus; looking up, his appearance almost seemingly disheveled, was markedly different than that of the priests, yet He spoke with such authority and power. I grew restless, knowing all too well, that the darkness that held me was stirring and I stood, not by my own power, but by his…
Father, we read within scripture, of a man, possessed by the devil, finding himself in a synagogue in Capernaum. Life, I am sure, was nothing like he had anticipated. How many of us too, found or find ourselves in this same place of bondage, no matter the addiction, that refuses to yield its hold? Is there demonic oppression and further still actual possession in our midst? Unaware that his life was about to change that day, he, at minimum, made the decision to seek you in that place that must have brought him a bit of relief and comfort. And yet, the demon within his being, with such arrogance addressed you and said, “let us alone, what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? Art though come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the Holy one of God”.
Lord, a pause is very much needed here for what follows should cause each of us to meditate greatly, to look inwardly and with honesty. In our midst, lurking at times, and at other times openly, in numerous places, are many men and women that also are being oppressed and possessed by darkness.
What do they see in us or more concisely do they see you, Jesus, in us? Let us linger here in thought and contemplation for as long as is needed…
Moving slowly now further into the story and considering your response; so very telling. It held no condemnation and or judgement upon the man but was directed solely to that of the enemy. “And Jesus rebuked him, saying, hold thy peace, and come out of him. And when the devil had thrown him in the midst, he came out of him, and hurt him not”.
I wonder Lord, if we are capable of looking, absent of self-superiority, malice, disdain, and contempt but rather with compassion, sympathy, kindness, and empathy. To be very sure, we do not know their individual back stories, what they have had to endure, how they have been mistreated, or the entirety of the pains that life has burdened and encumbered them with. Is it any wonder that when you looked out upon the masses you wept? You had an unfathomable desire to look upon them differently; seeing them not as the world sees them but rather as a redeemed son/daughter. You loved them amid their struggles, eagerly losing all sense of self, someone you were prepared to die for, willingly sacrificing your life for that of theirs.
Father, how easy it should be, to see differently, to offer a kind word, a tender touch, or a listening ear to those near to us and in our midst. Your love, without limits, should pour forth from us every moment of every day specific to each ordained encounter you orchestrate…
But does it?
I myself Lord, am found wanting this morning still in need of your intimacy, your fullness, that hastens the demise and complete death to self. Forgive me.
Daniel