A New Home: Luke 8:26-39

Jesus and the disciples are rowing their boat toward the shore—toward a region called the Gerasenes.

It’s Gentile territory—so it’s a place they’ve likely never been before and one they may already feel uneasy about.

To the Jews, Gentile lands were unclean and unholy—filled with pagan practices they found abhorrent—places best avoided.

As they near the shore, before they can even secure the boat, catch their breath, prepare a meal, or speak, their uneasiness is immediately confirmed:

Standing before them is a wild, deranged-looking man possessed by demons, glaring directly at them.

As the wild, deranged-looking man stared down Jesus and His disciples, I imagine the disciples glanced nervously at Jesus—the One who had led them there—and also thought to themselves, “We told You so. What else could You expect in a place populated with Gentiles and steeped in pagan rituals? It’s an unholy and profane place! Of course, something like this would happen—of course, there would be demons as soon as we get off the boat…”

Some of the disciples must’ve been thinking, “What a terrible place this is… why did we come here, again???”

But Jesus, undeterred, commands the demons to leave the man and enter a herd of pigs on the hillside.

Immediately healed and coming into his right mind, the man sits at the feet of Jesus, filled with gratitude and sighing in relief. There’s no telling for sure how long this man was afflicted by these demons—how long he endured this gruesome torment.

He’s filled with gratitude and sighs in relief… thanking Jesus…

But sadly, when the townspeople—his very neighbors—arrive to see what has happened, they demand that Jesus leave. And perhaps even more heartbreaking is this: they do not rejoice at the man’s liberation. They offer no thanks alongside his gratitude. They show no interest in sharing his joy.

How deeply disappointing and heartbreaking that must have been for this newly freed man. After all he had endured, not one person thought or cared to rejoice with him?

Imagine someone happily sharing that they’re in remission, only to be met with awkward silence.

Or someone cheerfully announcing they’ve been sober for six months—only to face lukewarm acknowledgment from neighbors and friends.

Imagine someone gladly sharing that their anxiety hasn’t flared up in weeks—only to be met with a blank gaze and a quick change of subject.

It’s disappointing and heartbreaking to celebrate alone—

especially after recovering from an illness, making progress in your life, or receiving good news about your health or a difficult situation. We want others to join us in our joy and celebration… not be cold-hearted, indifferent, or uncaring...

The man who was healed there on the shore must have, no doubt, felt upset—and discouraged—and maybe a bit heartbroken—

to have none of his neighbors even hint at sharing his joy,

not even take a moment to smile and show they cared about his new freedom—his liberation from his harrowing ordeal.

So, the man who had been healed seems to have only one option:

Go with Jesus.

Why should he stay when the very people who witnessed his liberation are now afraid of his Liberator—

and seem heartless toward his new freedom?

And besides all of that—perhaps the most painful reason to go with Jesus and leave this place is because he will now always be known and remembered by everyone in that region as the guy who had demons. Will they ever be able to move on?

Many of us know firsthand how hard it can be to escape our past—even those closest to us can have trouble forgetting the mistakes we've made or the things we failed to do.

Even the silly nicknames we earned as youth or children by our mischievous behaviors can cling to us, like name-brand labels that never go out of style.

Our blunders, we know, have a way of resurfacing—again and again—in the stories our friends tell—as we wonder if we’ll ever live them down…

Will they ever be able to move on? Will the family, friends, or neighbors of this man ever move on? The things they’ve seen are not easily dismissed from memory—it’s seared in their minds—

The entire city had seen this man’s demons—

seen him lurking among the tombs,

tearing off his clothing,

breaking shackles with shocking, unnatural strength,

and running wildly through the desert.

His condition was, no doubt, deeply disturbing and unsettling to watch.

His reputation, because of all this, had surely been ruined.

It wouldn’t be surprising if word had spread throughout the region about him:

“Don’t go near him.”

“He’s dangerous.”

“Stay away!”

“Let him dwell in the tombs.”

It would hardly be unexpected if the people had also devised cruel nicknames for him—and harshly embellished his condition just to incite ridicule and fuel gossip.

Would he not have been an easy target for mockery and demeaning chatter?