This sermon deals with a scripture that seems strange to us, unless you make a habit of casting out demons or unclean spirits. Exorcism aside, this passage gets to a challenging modern issue, labeling people as clean or unclean, inside or outside our circle of care. I did a deep dive on what made people clean or unclean in first century Judaism. The point is not to look back and shake our heads, but look at ourselves and how we label people.

Mark 1:21-28 (click to read the text)

Our story begins with Jesus as a guest preacher on the Sabbath in Capernaum. The congregation loves Jesus' teaching because he speaks as one with authority. Authority can come from the position you hold. If you chair a church committee or are the game warden, the authority to do certain things goes with the job, no matter who has it.

Authority can come from expertise. You have a Master's degree or a knowledge base or wisdom and experience that lend authority to your actions. Authority can also come from character. What you say and do are aligned, and people trust you. Deep authenticity, the sense that you are genuine, truly believe in something, and have respect for your audience, also lends authority. The scribes had a clear role, and they had a knowledge base. Unlike most people, they could read and write. Jesus does not have a position or degree, but people recognize an authority that comes from character, authenticity, respect, and compassion that goes beyond having a given role.

In the New Testament, the Greek word for authority, exousia, is most often used to describe authority rooted in God. It's not about a theological degree, more than an ordination, but beyond these qualities, a living relationship with God and the ability to connect with people. You can't measure this authority; some people have a certain "It," a charisma, a gift of the spirit. 

If you wonder if Jesus had this "It," read ahead. In the middle of Jesus' teaching, a man starts shouting. This happened to me several times while preaching because I served two communities where they closed large mental hospitals. In Northampton, we had dozens of people panhandling in the business district. People slept on our church front steps and doorways. My Sunday morning routine was to wake everyone up, see if they were OK, and move them off the steps. I would invite them to church. Most were quiet, and some snored. Occasionally, someone would be off their meds and shout during the joys and concerns about people who wronged them or the end of the world. 

To be a church of extravagant welcome meant ministering with dignity to everyone who shows up and deal with problematic behavior, or else, fewer people would show up for ministry.   I can treat the person with dignity, or de-escalate a tense situation, or get people food and warm clothes and counseling about their medications, but I could not cast out the demon that afflicted them. I am not an exorcist? Cross that off your pastoral care needs. So, what do we learn from this scripture?

A critical translation note: while some versions say the person had a demon, others say he was a man with an unclean spirit. How are those two things different? A demon is a malevolent supernatural being who possesses a human to bring about evil intentions. Most Christians believed in demons until recent times. Martin Luther threw his ink well at a demon he felt was afflicting him in the room. Administering communion was thought to protect people from demons. A priest's chief role and power was to protect their flock from demons that could cause them harm, make them sick, or do immoral things. People were afraid of demons. Now, we are more likely to consult the DSM 5, the mental health diagnostic manual, and turn to psychiatrists and pharmacologists for help. (I used to have all my client's mental health diagnoses. When I returned to being a pastor, I missed not knowing everyone's diagnosis. It would be so helpful.).

The more accurate translation in Mark is probably "unclean spirit." Unclean is not the same as evil. In first-century Judaism, everything was in a category of clean and unclean. Food could be clean or unclean. Beef and goat were fine, but not pork or shellfish (which eliminates most Cajun food and our beloved lobsters here in Maine). Many Jews keep kosher, and some of these laws may have been to protect public health. Keeping kosher, which means keeping clean or pure, is not just about food. Lots of things in Leviticus made you unclean, including a skin rash, menstruating, contact with a dead body, and contact with anything unclean. 

 Jeanne and I watched "Steisl" on Netflix, a window inside Orthodox Judaism in Jerusalem. I was surprised to see that certain cell phones were kosher. A flip phone for just phone calls was kosher; an iPhone that connected to the internet and a world of temptation and pornography was not kosher. I admit, they do have a point. Staying clean and pure is not just obedience to the law, eating healthy foods, or staying morally pure; it is also being ritually pure to participate in worship at the Temple. Remember the story of the Good Samaritan, when the Levite walks by the man lying beaten beside the road? He walks by because if the man was dead, he would become ritually unclean and could not go into the Temple until he went through ritual purification. The parable raises the issue of whether ritual purity is more important than helping someone in need. (I see nothing wrong with keeping kosher, dietary laws, wearing a headscarf or a wide variety of religious customs. Culture is important. The issue is when these things become more important than loving your neighbor.)

I came across an article in Biblical Archeology discussing why staying pure was essential in first-century Judaism. Israel was dominated by Roman colonial power, so the culture was constantly under threat from outside influences. Rome not only controlled their politics and taxed them, but they were seen as idol worshipers who believed in many gods instead of the one God; they were sexual libertines. People feared losing their country, culture, and religion to the colonial power. One way they could fight back was to stay pure and keep all the codes of the Old Testament. The Pharisees were obsessive about avoiding uncleanliness and impurity, almost like what we might call patriotism. Gentiles were not just different; they were dangerous and destroying their way of life. Staying pure was to save the soul of the nation and religion. 

We can see a similar cultural phenomenon in America where people create purity tests to decide who is clean and unclean, who is with us, and who is against. We are not far removed from having separate water fountains for white people. Some political issues are purity tests. Are you for or against abortion, homosexuality, or immigration? There is nothing wrong with having clear opinions on these issues. I often wish we could talk more deeply about these things from a spiritual and theological viewpoint. But the purity test gets in the way and prevents listening. When we create these litmus tests, we are operating with the Pharisee world view, dividing the world into clean and unclean, and focusing on staying pure over being in relationship.

So imagine the synagogue in Capernaum now that you know what unclean means. Everyone there could be contaminated by this man with an unclean spirit. We don't know how he was impure. It might have been a mental health condition or a skin disease. But he is in the Synagogue. Where were the ushers that day? 

I'm struck by what the man says to Jesus. "What do you have to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." The man sounds like he is in control of his wits. He knows he is seen as unclean, and his question is important. Are you going to destroy those of us who are unclean? The man also knows who Jesus is, the Holy One of God. He understands who Jesus is better than most and sees Jesus as pure and clean. Will Jesus start a crusade against the unclean? I don’t know what to make of the scene of a man convulsing as his unclean spirit seems to leave his body. But the outcome is clear. He is cleansed and restored to community.

The first act of Jesus’ ministry in Mark’s Gospel is to deal with the cleanliness codes right in the Synagogue. Staying pure to all the laws and codes will not save you if you keep labeling all your neighbors you disagree with as unclean. 

By the time Mark was written in 70 AD, the early church had already figured this out. They welcomed Gentiles and worked through the challenges of keeping kosher, circumcision, and other codes. Peter and Paul have pushed early Christians to adopt love as the central code, not keeping pure and avoiding people who aren't like you. Without breaking down the walls between clean and unclean, there would be no Christianity. 

Paul wrote, “In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free, but all are one in Christ.” How did this Pharisee so fixed on clean and unclean get to this conclusion? What strikes me about the book of Acts, the story of the early church, is that instead of getting all the Gentiles, the outsiders, to conform, early Christians removed the internal barriers and blinders from themselves so they could welcome others. They allowed the Holy Spirit to work in them, to be more open-hearted. 



The poet Rumi said, “Don’t seek love, rather seek to remove the barriers that keep you from loving.”