Matthew 8:28-34 - "And when he had come to the other side into the country of the Gadarenes..."

Matthew 8:28-34

After Jesus rebukes the storm and calms its violence, he sets foot in the country of the Gadarenes where rebukes two demon-possessed men and calms their violence. Now you might be wondering, why are there two men? Don't I recall hearing this story before, except it involved only one man? Yes, Mark tells that story in 5:1-20, where he also goes into greater depth about Jesus' interaction with the demon-possessed man than Matthew.

Here's where a lot of people start freaking out and accusing the Bible of "contradictions." But you don't have to go there, if you just understand that the Gospel writers are not making the same claim as CNN news reporters. They are not claiming to report "just the facts" and let the audience decide what's important. Each Gospel writer either includes or omits material depending on the point he is trying to make (and I would argue that CNN news reporters do the same thing, they just don't like to admit it). So Matthew tells a story of two demon-possessed men with considerably less detail about Jesus' personal interaction with the demons and more emphasis on the miracle itself. The account is fairly brief. Mark, on the other hand, focuses on Jesus' relationship with one of the demoniacs as if he were the only person in view. And so even though there may have been two men present, Mark's interest is in the journey of just this one man in particular: his personal transformation, his desire to follow Jesus, his commission from the Lord to testify of the mercy he received. It's obvious the story is told in great detail so that we could feel a sympathy and connection with this healed man.

So anyhow, that's my theory about the "contradiction" between Matthew and Mark, for what it's worth. I'm sure there are other plausible theories out there you might also want to consider.

Getting back to our passage, Jesus encounters two demoniacs on the road who immediately recognize him and start wigging out. Jesus never says a word about hell or everlasting torment; they bring it up themselves. "What do we have to do with you, Son of God? Have you come to torment us before the time?" Demons are a doomed race and they know it. Even while they are doing their mischief they understand that their days are numbered, and so when Jesus shows up earlier than their eschatological timetable predicted, they're like, "What? So soon? We thought we had more time! Give us more time!" Their cowering fear and subservient posture before the Lord tell us that we who have a personal relationship with Jesus have nothing to fear from demons. Before Jesus they are as overmatched as a colony of ants before a can of Raid. I'm not saying demons aren't to be respected. As creatures they are far superior to human beings in power, intelligence, mobility, longevity and perception. But Jesus is Lord over both humans and demons, and if you hide yourself in him you've got nothing to worry about.

These demons are terrified that Jesus is going to cast them out of the men and into the depths of hell, so they're begging him, "Send us into the swine! Send us into the swine!" and Jesus says, "Okay, fine." Apparently the swine could handle them no better than the men, for they immediately rush down the bank and drown themselves. I can't imagine that the demons are destroyed as a result; they probably just escape off somewhere, looking for someone else to possess. So what is going on here? When Jesus casts the demons into the swine I don't think he is trying to destroy them, but rather is acknowledging that the time to send them into the eternal fires of hell has not yet come. The demons, by asking to be sent into the pigs, are seeking an escape pod out of the presence of Jesus and back into the world. He willingly grants them that escape. It's kind of like those action hero movies where the hero shows his complete dominance over his opponent not by destroying him but having mercy on him for a time. Jesus has that kind of dominance over the demonic world.

The herdsmen witness the whole thing, they rush into the city to report everything that happened, and the whole city comes out to meet Jesus to thank him, praise him and fall down at his feet. Right? Wrong. "The whole city came out to meet Jesus, and when they saw him they entreated him to depart from their region." Apparently these folks subscribe to the "better the devil you know than the devil you don't" philosophy. They'd rather have a bunch of demoniacs running around than a stranger more powerful than demons on the loose. Like the demons, these townspeople feel overmatched by Jesus; and like the demons, they also plead to be released from his presence. Sadly, both the demon and human inhabitants of the Gadarenes have a great deal in common.

Matthew 8:23-27 - "And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him."

Matthew 8:23-27

The opening sentence of this passage says the disciples followed Jesus into a boat, which then headed right into a violent storm. Do you mean that if I follow Jesus he might lead me straight into danger and turmoil? The short answer: yep. The long answer: uhh . . . yep. So what else is new? Jesus plans to make good on his promise that if you follow him you'll have no place to lay your head. If it's a peaceful, restful, skipping-in-the-daisies kind of life you're after, you're looking in the wrong place.

I love how one commentator pointed out that the Son of Man, who has nowhere to lay his head, is at the same time content to lay down his head anywhere, even at the stern of a boat in the middle of a storm. He has no home and so he can treat every place he happens to be like a home. But from a human perspective we see that Jesus is simply exhausted from dealing with the crowd all day. Although it is true he is God in the flesh, his experience in the flesh isn't somehow cushioned by his divine nature. He fully experiences the frailties and limitations of his human body. It's a seemingly strange contradiction that the ever-watchful one who "neither slumbers nor sleeps" (Psalm 121:4) is here asleep in the stern at a time when his help is most urgently needed.

Which brings me to the point I wrestle over in this passage: why does Jesus rebuke the disciples for their lack of faith? At first I thought it was because they awoke him in the first place. Surely they ought to know that Jesus is still in control of the winds and the sea even though he appears to have checked out. In other words, he is not asleep as the divine Son of God even while he is asleep in his human flesh. Perhaps he chides the disciples for thinking of him only as a mere man who happens to have extraordinary powers, instead of seeing that he is the Creator God perfectly clothed in a human body and soul. Yet I feel only half convinced of this explanation, because even if, theologically speaking, Jesus is still "in control" of his creation while asleep, nothing is actually going to be done about the wind and the sea unless Jesus awakes to calm the chaos. The passage even implies that this is so. So you can hardly blame the disciples for waking him, and I don't believe there is any passage in the Gospel accounts where Jesus rebukes someone for coming to him for help. The invitation is always, "Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden..."

So the other possible reason for Jesus' rebuke could have to do with the way the disciples implored him. "Save us, Lord, we are perishing!" Right now this is the explanation I'm leaning toward. I hate to be critical of the disciples' panicky plea because I sympathize with them, yet admittedly their words do reveal a lack of faith. Even the timid leper whom we met in a previous passage had more faith when he said to Jesus, "If you are willing, you can make me clean." The centurion of strong faith told Jesus, "Just say the word and my servant will be healed." But the disciples come to him saying, "Save us, we are perishing!" Already they are certain of their doom and of Jesus' lack of concern for their lives. (In a parallel passage in Mark 4:38 the disciples even say, "Do you not care that we are perishing?") They have completely lost sight of hope even with Jesus in their midst. I'm sure Jesus must find that very disappointing.

But notice that even when the disciples practically insult him with their hopeless attitude, he still acts immediately and decisively to save them. The invitation "Come unto me" stands no matter how sloppily we may respond, and no matter how little we might be enlightened after the fact. ("What kind of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?") The story is told to rebuke us for our faithlessness, but also to encourage us that what little faith we have in our faithlessness is still enough for Jesus to condescend to.

Matthew 8:18-22 - "Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him..."

Matthew 8:18-22

Jesus sees that his healings and miracles have attracted a crowd, so he makes preparations to ditch them to the other side of the sea. What? You'd think Jesus would be thrilled about all the people's he's attracting! Yet when it comes to choosing his disciples, Jesus has never taken a "the more the merrier" approach. He is much more interested in the motives of people's hearts. And so even as he's hastening to make his exit, he starts rebuffing people's attempts to cling to him. This is a far cry from the Jesus we often present in our evangelism: a needy guy desperate for friends who begs people to follow him, bribes them with promises of a better life, and floods the town with "Jesus loves you" billboards and bumper stickers.

A scribe comes right up to Jesus and says, "I will follow you wherever you go." Let me tell you, if anyone whom I've been trying to evangelize came up to me and said, "I'm ready to follow Jesus wherever he leads me," I'd be ecstatic. Not Jesus. His answer has an "oh, really?" tone to it. "The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." If you say you want to follow me, Jesus says, let me first give you a reason why you shouldn't. As a scribe, the man probably enjoys some respect in the community, but as a disciple of Jesus he would run the risk of being ostracized, even homeless. He would have to eat with tax collectors and sinners. He might have to enter the home of an unclean Gentile. As a result his fellow scribes might disdain him, his home town might not welcome him, even his own family might reject him. Like Jesus he would find himself without a place to lay his head.

Another of the disciples said, "Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father." He was probably among the general followers of Jesus and not one of the twelve, since it's obvious that Jesus viewed his commitment as less than satisfactory. "Follow me, and allow the dead to bury their own dead," Jesus replies. There's some debate over whether the man's father had already died and he was asking leave to take care of funeral preparations, or whether his father was still alive and he was asking if he could put off following Jesus until his father passed away. A lot of people favor the latter idea because then it makes Jesus seem less harsh. Then you don't have to explain why Jesus could be so unreasonable that he wouldn't even let a guy go bury his father and grieve with his family for a few days. But if the man was asking to delay following Jesus indefinitely until his father died, then Jesus' hard-line approach would seem more justified.

I'm not sure it's all that critical to decide which scenario it is, because Jesus never says, "Following me means neglecting your family responsibilities." We just saw in a previous passage that Peter didn't neglect his responsibility toward his ailing mother-in-law even though he was a sold-out follower of Jesus. Jesus' point is that following him should take priority over everything else. Whether or not the man's father has already passed away, the man shouldn't be bargaining with Jesus over the terms of discipleship no matter what the situation. And in this particular case the responsibility of burying one's father, while important, doesn't even come close to being as important as following Jesus. A dead father is physically dead and unbelieving family members are spiritually dead. Let the spiritually dead bury the physically dead. Let them go about the business of death while you attend to matters of life, making it a priority to follow the One who is Life.

Thinking about this passage has made me wonder whether we aren't seriously distorting who Jesus is when we present him to our unbelieving friends and family members. Jesus never promises to make your life better or smoother; in fact, following him is almost guaranteed to have just the opposite result. And it only makes sense if Jesus is all that he claims to be. He seeks worthy disciples who are willing to sell all they have to obtain the pearl of great price. But if you present Jesus like a cheap sales pitch, people will naturally question the quality of your product; they will naturally assume it's a con. Jesus never allows himself to be cheapened like that. He knows his own infinite worth and never apologizes for making that truth known.

Matthew 8:16-17 - "And when evening had come, they brought to him many who were demon-possessed..."

Matthew 8:16-17

Word must have gotten out about the healing of Peter's mother-in-law because by evening Jesus was being flooded with cases of demon possession and illness. "He cast out the spirits with a word, and healed all who were ill"--implying that not all cases of sickness were believed to be caused by demons. The caricature of a person who believes in demons is that they automatically think all illness and misfortune can be blamed on them, but I don't think that wasn't even true of these first century folks. The Gospel writers link some sicknesses to demons but are silent about the cause of others. Whatever the case, we know from this Gospel account that demons do exist whether they choose to manifest their presence to us through illness or not. In our secular, materialist culture they probably prefer do their work more covertly, since people's unbelief allows them to get away with even greater evils than simply possessing individuals or inflicting them with illness.

Most Christians I know seem to fall into two extremes regarding demons. Either they are dismissive of the idea of demons, or they are overly obsessed with them. But here in this passage Jesus "cast out the spirits with a word," showing that he both acknowledges the reality of their evil work and is able to exercise his absolute power over them. By his continual confrontation with demons throughout his ministry, Jesus shows time and again that he views them as an enemy and a threat to the lost sheep he is seeking to gather to himself. Jesus does not ignore them or take them lightly. At the same time he is capable of utterly dominating them. There is no contest: a single word from his mouth sends them fleeing. He teaches us that we should acknowledge the presence of demons around us but there's no need to get fanatical about it. If we only hide ourselves in Jesus, we should be perfectly safe.

These stories of demon possessions and healings are designed to draw us into our own encounter with Jesus and see ourselves in the people he heals. At one time we were in bondage to Satan, but Jesus set us free with a command. At one time we were diseased with our sins and transgressions, but a healing touch from Jesus restored us to the health of new life. This is why Isaiah 53:4 is quoted here: "He himself took our infirmities and carried away our diseases." Because if you look at the original passage, the next verse (v. 5) goes on to say, "He was pierced through for our transgressions and he was crushed for our iniquities." The smooth transition Isaiah makes from infirmities and diseases to transgressions and iniquities shows that one is meant to symbolize the other. When Jesus heals a sick person in the Gospel accounts, the real malady is that they are sick with sin. Physical blindness is also spiritual blindness; physical deafness is also spiritual deafness; physical paralysis is also spiritual paralysis. In Isaiah's words Jesus carries those infirmities and diseases away, meaning he bears our sin all way to the cross where he is pierced through and crushed for them. It is a wonderful, seemingly impossible exchange. He takes our sickness, we take his health. He takes our sin, we take his righteousness. "[God] made him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in him" (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Matthew 8:14-15 - "And when Jesus had come to Peter's home..."

Matthew 8:14-15

It's incredible to think that Peter was not a single guy when he was following Jesus all over creation, but a married man with responsibilities at home. Sometimes we get the idea from Peter's example that the mark of true discipleship is the extent to which you can abandon and neglect your family responsibilities ("Behold, we have left everything and followed you"), and yet here we glimpse a different side of the story. Peter had evidently not neglected his family but had even taken his ailing mother-in-law into his home. What's more, Peter shows that being Jesus' disciple doesn't always mean taking your relationship with him away from the home to some exciting new place. Instead it means bringing Jesus into your own home where you introduce him to your family members, where he can touch them with his healing power and make disciples of them too.

Jesus sees Peter's mother-in-law lying sick in bed with a fever. Some commentators think she may have had malaria, which would explain Jesus' concern for her. No special request for her healing is made. In fact, you get the impression that Jesus heals her simply because she belongs to Peter's household, that his relationship with Peter naturally overflows into blessing everyone dear to Peter. It goes to show that if you're a Christian, there's a sense in which everyone you care about is automatically on Jesus' radar screen too, since Jesus' love is so intertwined with your own.

Jesus touches her hand and the fever leaves her. Immediately she rises and begins to serve him. If she wasn't a disciple before, she is now. Serving Jesus is the fundamental mark of discipleship, and Peter's mother-in-law's response of service immediately after her healing nicely sums up the Christian life. Once you were in bondage to sin and death, but the moment you were reborn through Jesus' healing touch you became his bondservant. No service you give can repay him for his gift of life, rather you render it out of love and gratitude. It is because you can't repay Jesus that you serve him so diligently.

There's a part of us that may be tempted to overlook this detail of Peter's mother-in-law's service. Culturally speaking, a senior female member of the household might be expected to wait upon a guest in her home, especially a guest who had just done her a great service. There may even be a sexist part of us that figures it is simply her job as a woman to serve a male guest, especially someone like Jesus who carries the status of a rabbi. But even if her response can be partly explained as "cultural" or as "a woman's job," it's interesting to see that the Gospel writer still takes note of her service through the Holy Spirit's inspiration. No doubt Jesus recognizes the love and gratitude that motivates her response, and he would not discount her service simply because she is also under a cultural and social obligation to render it.

In our modern feminist culture I think a lot of us women are made to feel that there are only two ways to live: either give in to patriarchal expectations about women's roles and be enslaved to the male authorities in your life; or be free of such expectations, take charge of your own life and live as you please. Yet it is an inescapable fact that the most obvious and practical way for a Christian woman to serve Jesus is through serving other people--and quite often those people will be overbearing male authorities. But just because you might take on the appearance of being a woman who is still "backward" and "traditional" ("She probably has low self-esteem, the poor, uneducated thing"), if your real motivation is serving Jesus, you can be sure that he will not misread your actions. He won't despise you as unenlightened and unliberated because you quietly serve a selfish and demanding husband, father or boss, but will recognize your service as being done solely out of devotion to him.

Matthew 8:5-13 - "And when he had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him..."

Matthew 8:5-13

Jesus moves from healing a leper with weak faith to granting the request of a centurion Gentile whose faith surpasses anyone's that he has seen in Israel. In the eyes of Jesus this Gentile man's faith is a foreshadowing of the great gathering of the Gentile nations into the kingdom from the far corners of the world. They will eat at the table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob while those in the Jewish nation who did not believe will become outcasts. This man who comes to Jesus is probably a Roman, and as a centurion he is in charge of many troops. There's a debate about whether the boy who suffers paralysis is his son or a servant of the house, but whatever the case the centurion is distressed over his condition and seeks out Jesus' help.

Jesus is willing to come to the centurion's house ("I will come and heal him"), yet the centurion prevents him saying, "Lord, I am not worthy for you to come under my roof." Jews don't normally enter the homes of unclean Gentiles and the centurion wants to respect that custom even though Jesus is quite willing to break it. What impresses Jesus about this man is that he not only humbles himself in acknowledgement of his lowly status as a Gentile, but he recognizes that Jesus' offer to visit isn't necessary to the actual healing. He knows Jesus is only condescending to make this gesture to aid his own belief, and out of respect for propriety he is willing to decline because he believes a mere word from Jesus is all that's needed.

"For I, too, am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. And I say to this one, 'Go!' and he goes, and to another, 'Come!' and he comes . . ." The centurion understands perfectly the nature of Jesus' power. He says, "I, too, am a man under authority," meaning that his own power to command his soldiers comes from the top brass. Likewise, Jesus is under the authority of his Father who gives him the power to command the evil spirits that were bringing this paralysis on his servant. So the centurion says, "Just say the word and my servant will be healed."

In our earlier passage we learned that Jesus condescended to the weak faith of the leper by touching him and affirming his willingness to heal him. Yet in this passage Jesus praises the great faith of the centurion because he asked for no promise, no gesture, no physical touch--just the bare command from Jesus' lips was enough for him. We may start out following Jesus with the faltering, fearful faith of the leper, needing all kinds of extra reassurances to prop us up, but it is the centurion's humble faith in Jesus' bare word that we ought to be aspiring to. Our tendency is to be like Thomas who refuses to believe unless he touches the nail prints in Jesus' hands and feet and the puncture wound in his side. Jesus does condescend to grant Thomas's wish but he also delivers this rebuke: "Because you have seen me, have you believed? Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed" (John 20:29).

I had a difficult time thinking of how to apply this passage because it seems that everything in our modern Christian way of thinking encourages us more toward the leper's faith than the centurion's. In fact, it seems like having the leper's faith is considered spiritual and having the centurion's faith is considered cold and unfeeling. Our most loved worship songs are all about begging Jesus to come to us and touch us and reveal himself to us and let us hear his voice. We are encouraged to feel more and do more and ask for more tangible works of God in our lives. Sometimes our prayers tend toward bargaining. "Lord, I'll commit myself to you if you do this and that for me." "Lord, I need to feel your presence and then I can be at peace."

I don't think I've ever heard anyone echo the centurion's words and say, "Lord, really, don't bother to go through the trouble. I don't need to you show me a sign, or give me special comfort, or make your presence known to me. I already know you're real. I believe you, and your word is enough for me."

Matthew 8:1-4 - "And when he had come down from the mountain..."

Matthew 8:1-4

As soon as Jesus descends from the mountain after his sermon, a leper comes to him and asks to be healed. A leper is someone whose diseased skin makes him unclean, who is banished from Israelite society for the duration of his uncleanness. In the Old Testament the clean vs. unclean distinction is meant to instruct the Israelites about God's holiness. What is clean may come into his presence and what is unclean may not. So when we see this leper, we are supposed to see ourselves. Our sin makes us spiritual lepers. As long as we remain unclean we are banished from the presence of God. And so like this man in our passage, we come to Jesus with hesitation. "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean."

A lot of us share this leper's mixture of faith and doubt. We don't doubt Jesus' power to make us clean. We're certain about his capabilities, his ability to do wondrous works. He created the world. He is all-powerful and all-knowing. We know he has come to be the Savior of the world. We just aren't sure if he has come to save us in particular. "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." I know you can make me clean, but do you want to?

But Jesus responds even to this very weak attempt at faith. It's a faith that says, "Yes, Lord, I do have faith in a theoretical Jesus that is perhaps only a product of my wishful thinking, who would cleanse me if he were the type of person who cared enough to have compassion on me." It is not even full faith, really. It's just a sorry scrap of faith that this broken and discouraged man tosses out, half expecting to be turned away.

That's why Jesus knows he has to do more than just zap the leprosy away. He reaches out and touches the man, an act that would have defiled anyone else, and says, "I am willing. Be cleansed." He knows full well that this is someone who has been starved of the comfort of human touch. It is just as important to Jesus to assure him of his love as it is to grant him healing. And instead of being defiled by the man's uncleanness, Jesus "defiles" the man with his own cleanness. He is not the kind of holy man who shrinks to one side of the road so as not to be dirtied by the Samaritan lying half dead on the other side. He rather invades our space with his cleansing touch, if only we'd stand there and let him. And as he told the leper, he is more than willing to infect us with his wholeness and health.

Why does he instruct the healed leper to be silent about his miraculous healing and instead see a priest? In some cases Jesus asks people to keep quiet about a healing because he doesn't want to be mobbed by a bunch of thrill seekers. But Jesus has been fairly public about his healings (4:24-25) in this particular region, so I think the purpose of ordering the man to see a priest is to have the truth of his healing confirmed through more official channels, rather than trying to make a bald claim. The priest would have to go through the process laid out by the law of Moses: checking the man's skin, pronouncing him clean, making an offering of two birds, isolating the man for seven days, and finally having the man come forward to present a guilt offering, a sin offering, a burnt offering and a grain offering for atonement (Leviticus 14:1-32).

The Pharisees and religious leaders are sure to try to discredit Jesus' healing by challenging this man's right to be accepted back into Israelite society. "He's not really clean! This Jesus sent a leper back in our midst to defile us all!" So when Jesus tells the man, "Go, show yourself to the priest and present the offering that Moses commanded, for a testimony to them," he may be trying to protect this guy. He's asking him to jump through all the hoops so that he can be officially pronounced as cleansed, to testify to the truth of Jesus' healing power and of the man's right to be accepted back into his community.