The Pigs and the Perishing: Fifth Sunday after Pentecost and Fifth Sunday of Matthew

Matthew 8:28-9:1

For twenty-first century Western hearers of the gospels, demons and demoniacs are troublesome. We do not live in a time or a place where this phenomenon is understood, or even frequently experienced. (Though some would say that this is a deficiency in our perception!) Other ages have known about demoniacs, and even missionaries today in the third world report demonic activity.  But our experience is rather limited.  It would be helpful, then, if we could go behind this well-known episode in Jesus’ ministry, appointed for the fifth Sunday of Pentecost, to the Old Testament, in order to find wisdom.

We search, however, virtually in vain. For the Old Testament has almost nothing to say of demons; even Satan, the captain of the demons, is only infrequently mentioned.  There are a few instances. The book of Tobit identifies a demon by name, telling us in its back-story about the evil demon Asmodeus, who lusted after the ordained bride of Tobias, destroying every one of her suitors—except for Tobias, who is given the means of protection by the angel Raphael, so that the demon is bound and banished to the remote places of Egypt. Then there are the vague references in Deuteronomy, Psalms and the book of Baruch to the human sacrifices made by the wayward Israelites: they are said to have offered up their sons and daughters to so-called “gods,” who are actually demons.  Finally, some traditions outside the Bible identify the mysterious Azazel, for whom the scapegoat was driven out into the wilderness (Leviticus 16), as one of those evil fallen angels or demons who mixed with human women in Genesis 6.

In these rare cases, however, we learn nothing about the demons except that they are malicious; they attack from the outside, killing and enslaving, but in the OT they do not take up residence within a person. The only exception to this might be in the case of Saul, who was tormented by an evil spirit (1 Samuel 16), and the story of King Ahab’s prophets, who all had a “lying spirit” in their mouths so that they prophesied falsehood (1 Kings 22; 2 Chronicles 18).  Whether these are actual cases of possession, however, is not clear: perhaps Saul was only greatly despondent, and influenced in this by an evil spirit; perhaps the language of the prophet Micaiah does not mean to imply that his fellow prophets were actually possessed, since the false prophets appear to be sane.

So where do demons come into the human story, and why are they so prevalent in the gospels? The social historian would answer that rumors of demons come late in the history of Judaism, as it encountered Persian influences. But to offer a historical influence is not to give a theological explanation.  We might respond that throughout the course of the OT, God prepared His people to understand what the unique thing that He was intending to do in the fullness of time—become incarnate among us, as the second Person of the Holy Trinity assumes human flesh, walking and living among humanity, as one of us. Information about demons and Satan are, evidently, not part of that preparation.  Instead, in the Old Testament, God shows Himself to be the friend of Moses, speaks with the prophets, loves David, and guides His own people.  Mostly, however, he speaks through his “angel,” remaining at arm’s length, revealing Himself through great signs and wonders, while emphasizing His sovereignty through these phenomena.  The people at Mt. Sinai, do not directly receive God’s word, but are instructed to put a boundary around the base of the mountain, so that only the elders approach God more closely, and only Moses himself speaks with God “mouth-to-mouth.”  Throughout the Old Testament, we hear of how God woos His wayward people, calling them to be separate from the rest of the nations, and to obey Him.  This He does through the lawgiver Moses, then through priests and prophets. (And He also concedes to act on their behalf through a human leader, a king.) But His Holy Spirit does not abide in each of His people, despite His love for them: this is part and parcel of the “new covenant” promised in Ezekiel and Jeremiah, when each member of God’s people would come to know God intimately.

With the New Testament, this time arrives. The Holy Spirit is poured without measure upon the entire Church, illumining those who believe from within: this can now happen because God has deeply visited humanity, taking on human flesh, and becoming one of us, and then raising up our humanity with him in the resurrection and ascension. God comes closer to us than our own breath, transforming us from within. We could say that God changes the terms of the battle between Himself and our accuser, Satan.  He is not content to remain an outside influence, but desires to have us wholly for Himself in unimaginable intimacy: speaking of the Hebrews, one NT writer says, “God had foreseen something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect” (Hebrews 11:40).  No longer is Torah, or even the God-given conscience, the means by which He draws us; instead, He becomes one of us, so that we can be joined to Him in unimaginable unity: “He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee” (2 Cor 5:5). Indeed, St. Paul likens the relationship between Christ and His Church to the married intimacy of a husband and wife (Ephesians 5)!

Of course, Satan cannot engage in this deep kind of visitation, for whatever he “visits” he consumes and destroys. But we should not be surprised to see this bent one trying to imitate the “inside” strategy of God, and coming as close as possible to us for our evil rather than our good.  Only the Highest and the Purest can engage in true Incarnation, transposing Himself (to use the language of C. S. Lewis) into the human mode, in order to save and perfect us.  In response, Satan attempts to get close to us, to undo that which God is building up—and so he sends emissaries, shattered fragments of his broken power, into the human sphere.  These confuse, damage, and cause disintegration, possessing human beings and destroying them in the process.  Evil little avatars of the dark one are the best that Satan can manage, over against the amazing story of One who was both God and Man, who lived our life perfectly, died deeply and humbly, trampling down death by death, rose again to renew us, and honored our flesh in His ascension. Where God acts decisively, Satan scrambles to recover his losses: and loses.

With this in mind, we can understand better what is happening in this fascinating story from Matthew. Luke and Mark also tell this story of the demons who are sent into the pigs, but with different details.  In Luke and Mark, the demon tells Jesus that his name is “legion” (a multitude) for “we are many.” There is no integrity in this evil spirit, no unity, but a multiplicity of filth and disintegrating impulses.  Luke and Mark focus on only one demoniac—the one who, we are told, wanted afterwards to follow Jesus on his mission.  Matthew emphasizes the plurality of evil, or perhaps the fact that Jesus came for both the bound Jew AND the lawless Gentile, by telling us that there were two demoniacs:

And when he came to the other side, to the country of the Gadarenes, two demoniacs met him, coming out of the tombs, so fierce that no one could pass that way. And behold, they cried out, “What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?”  Now a herd of many swine was feeding at some distance from them. And the demons begged him, “If you cast us out, send us away into the herd of swine.”And he said to them, “Go.” So they came out and went into the swine; and behold, the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and perished in the waters. The herdsmen fled, and going into the city they told everything, and what had happened to the demoniacs. And behold, all the city came out to meet Jesus; and when they saw him, they begged him to leave their neighborhood. And getting into a boat he crossed over and came to his own city. (Mat 8:28-9:1 RSV)

Consider their “fierce” aspect—we are dealing with brutes more than men, so marred have these two become by that indwelling them. Consider where they dwell—in the tombs, in the places of the dead, and in a predominantly pagan area. (We know this because no faithful Jews kept swine, unclean animals). Consider their actions—impeding the progress of others, coming out beyond the boundaries of the graves to meet the living, so that they cannot pass. And, consider what they say: like the other demons, they recognize Jesus.  But they go beyond mere recognition that he is “Messiah,” or “Son of God.”  They argue with Him that the “time” has not yet come for His full victory over them.  Evidently they knew that God had something in the works. Of course, we cannot know what the demons understood about God’s plan.  Certainly, they did not know the full extent of it, as St. Paul reminds us:

But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glorification. None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him…’ (1 Cor 2:7-9 RSV)

The point is, however, that God had a “time-table” for His incursion into the world, of which the demons were, seemingly, partially knowledgeable. Jesus’ Incarnation takes them by surprise, however, and comes to them as a “torment,” before their final downfall, which we may take as accomplished in his death and resurrection.  Yet even Jesus’ action—and indeed the action of his apostles and the seventy—was beginning this sweep-up operation.  As Jesus says to the triumphant seventy who return, flabbergasted that the demons have obeyed them:

I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you; but rejoice that your names are written in heaven. (Luke 10:18-20, RSV).

So, then, the Messiah, who is also very God, has authority over the spirits of darkness, even before that final battle on the cross, when he tramples down death by death. Hidden within the fragile flesh of a human being is the Master of all hosts, over whom the demons have no power as they try to impede his mission. What looks like a granting of their request—their being cast into pigs—ends in a clear demonstration of their evil intent, and their own destruction.

Curiously, the swine-keepers and the towns-people are not impressed. The demoniacs have been freed from their bondage, but what evidently upsets these pagans is the loss of their livelihood, or perhaps just the fearful phenomenon of self-destructing pigs in their vicinity.  Jesus is for them not a victory-fighter, but an awkward presence, hampering their Gentile lifestyle, upsetting their customs, and heralding—can we say, “weirdness”? Not knowing the treasure in their midst, they beg him to go: not just a few of them, but the whole town. Like Jerusalem, over which Jesus mourned, they “did not recognize the time of their visitation.”  Like Jesus’ encounter with the Roman centurion, who had great faith, or the Samaritan woman, who become “equal to the apostles,” this episode, this town, could have become a sign of the Gentile mission to come, a glimmering of the day when light would shine on the Gentiles.  But this community finds Jesus’ presence and actions awkward.  They will not see what was among them, and Jesus, in all meekness, goes to his own place, and bides his time for the bringing-in of those outside the Jewish family.  He cares for the perishing prodigals among humanity, and will not leave them eating with the pigs forever—but he will not reconcile anyone to God against his or her will. Like the prodigal, who “came to himself,” those who are perishing must recognize their dire position, and be turned—and so He shall heal them!

As those made in the image of God, we are the special focus of God’s attention. The demons, we assume, have rejected the light and will not turn (though we know very little of their story).  But God made us after His own image, and has come to indwell us deeply, in such a way that we become MORE what we are meant to be, not overpowered, but enhanced in human character by His Holy Spirit. The demons asked if Christ had come to “torment”—that is, if anything, a matter of their own projection. For it is the strategy of the evil one to torment, to possess, and to destroy.  God the Son, rather, comes to raise up the broken tent of David, and to make the Gentiles His true people, though originally they were “not a people.”  He specializes in creation from nothing, and in resurrection from the dead.  The pig, and all that was once unclean, He will bless, and the perishing He will perfect.  From us, He asks only the same word that the Theotokos gave: “Be it unto me.”  With the Spirit and the Church, then, let us not find Him an embarrassment or ask Him to leave, but every day say to Him, “Come!” With our consent, He will do more than we can ask or even imagine.