The Rev. Jimmy Abbott
Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany
January 28, 2024
Mark 1:21-28

This past week, I went through the polar vortex of meetings. So, last Sunday morning, we held our Annual Parish Meeting. We needed an agenda, a budget, minutes, committee reports, and all the formality of an orderly church meeting. Sunday afternoon, I drove to Camp Allen, the Episcopal church’s camp and conference center outside Houston, because I’m on the board there. There was an agenda, a budget, minutes, committee reports, and all the formality of an order church meeting. Tuesday afternoon – Trinity School Board. You’re starting to get the drift of it. Agenda, budget, minutes, committee reports. Tuesday evening – Vestry. Say it with me. Agenda, budget, minutes, committee reports. Thursday afternoon. I’m on the board of St. Vincent’s House here in Galveston. Agenda, budget, minutes, committee reports. If I have to hear another motion and second, I’m going to crawl out of my skin.

Now it’s this orderliness that I want you to be thinking about in the passage from the Gospel of Mark. Jesus and his four disciples go to Capernaum, and on the sabbath day, Jesus went to the synagogue and began to teach (Mark 1:21). Not unlike a well-run board meeting in the Episcopal Church, meetings of the synagogue in the ancient world would have been orderly. Readings from scripture. A time for teaching. Announcements for the gathered community. Agenda, budget, minutes, committee reports. Jesus teaching in the synagogue itself would not have been surprising. He teaches as one with authority, and obviously has gained the respect of the people at the synagogue. The meeting is well ordered. 

Until this other man barges in. This man with an unclean spirit throws the whole meeting into chaos. He crashes right into the middle of the agenda, he disrupts Jesus’ committee report, and starts screaming. Things are getting ugly.

Now, with all my time at board meetings, I have had the unfortunate experience of similar things happening. A decision was made, a conversation went one way instead of the other way, and in came the boundary crasher. I’ve seen pounding on the table. Yelling. Pointing fingers. Accusations. Name calling. Interrupting. For a group of self-respecting Episcopalians, adult Episcopalians mind you, it was quite the show. 

One of the things I learned in that experience, from the others in the room, is that there is no use in trying to match venom for venom. That person who was pounding on the table was not going to stop pounding on the table if I started pounding on the table. That would only ratchet up the emotion in the room. Like an emotional arms race, if everyone starts amping up the drama, the only way it ends is when someone launches the missiles and the whole thing goes up in smoke.

No, the only way to confront such unruly behavior in that setting, is with quiet dignity. That’s what we pick up from Jesus. The man possessed by a demon comes in to the synagogue ranting and raving and screaming and accusing. And Jesus simply responds, “Be silent, and come out of him” (Mark 1:25). Jesus does not scream back. Jesus does not have to bully him into submission. He doesn’t have to revert to Robert’s Rules of Order to regain control of the meeting. It’s like how I knew when my father was really, really mad at me. It wasn’t when yelled at me, “James Michael Abbott!” It was when he spoke to me in that calm, chilling voice, “James Michael Abbott.” That was when I knew I was really in trouble.

The same in this story in the Bible. One of the outcomes is that Jesus gains even more authority and respect. He didn’t do that by yelling, or accusing, or pointing fingers. Jesus did it with a simple command. And Jesus did it through love.

That’s the other thing going on. We are meant to have sympathy for this poor man possessed by a demon. Think of how miserable his life must have been. By virtue of his behavior, I am sure that he had alienated his family and friends. People probably couldn’t stand him, and were just as glad when he didn’t show up to the synagogue. Poor man that he was. So what Jesus does is not only regain the authority of the synagogue, but he heals this man. The unclean spirit, whatever that was, comes out of him. And we can imagine some sort of reconciliation within the community. Jesus doesn’t gain respect and authority by drowning out this man; no, Jesus gains respect and authority by loving this man. 

This, this is one of the great lessons we learn from Jesus. We cannot make this world a more loving place by resorting to anger. No, if we want the world to be a more loving place, we start by loving our neighbors as ourselves. We start by having some empathy for those people who are so angry that they would disrupt even our nice, well-mannered, board meetings in the Episcopal Church.

As I would go on to learn. Those interrupters, those boundary crashers that I experienced; usually they were acting out because of their own stuff. People who are hurt, hurt other people. Their bodies might hurt, they might have addictions. And I know, I know that when I have spoken out of turn, when I’ve spoken with venom, when I’ve lashed out, it’s been because I was dealing with my own mental, emotional, or physical pain. These are explanations, not excuses. Not that this man with the unclean spirit in the synagogue had the right to interrupt Jesus; but it helps us understand, and to understand to empathize, and to empathize to love. By loving, we help ease the pain, not only to heal the individual, but to heal the community. 

Notice that the man with the unclean spirit, after he is restored, is not kicked out of the synagogue. The unclean spirit is kicked out, but not the man. No, the man is brought closer in to Jesus. Closer to love, closer to grace. The true authority of Jesus, rests not on his power to expel, but on his power to include.

This, this is the lesson for the day. True power, true authority, is not shown by throwing people out; but by drawing people in. And as people are drawn in, their hearts are transformed. Some old priest once told me – “Jesus loves you so much, that he will meet you wherever you are. But Jesus loves you so much, he won’t let you stay there.”

So when people come crashing into your life, when they are angry, and disruptive, and chaotic; choose empathy and love. When a bully comes around wagging his finger, trying to intimidate you; remember that the bully is probably awfully miserable with themselves, and lonely, and sad. When someone tries to shout you down, you don’t have to shout back; because that person is probably just desperate for love and attention and that’s the only way they know how to cry out in their pain. 

Don’t hear what I’m not saying, I’m not saying that you should be a doormat. But what I am saying is that the first step to love and transformation, is understanding. Just as Jesus opened wide his arms upon the hard wood of the cross, we too will wide our arms in a loving embrace. Because we will not win anything by kicking people out; no, our victory is through welcoming everybody in to the love of Jesus.