Trinity Methodist Church

Sermon: That Time When the Town Asked Jesus to Leave

Trinity Methodist Church of Eugene

June 22, 2025

Scripture: Luke 8:26-39

Preacher: Rebecca Wetmore-Cook

In today’s scripture reading, Jesus is chased out of town after performing a miracle. It reminds us that the Jesus we hold so dear, who we welcome into our hearts and lives with open arms, was not, and is not, welcome everywhere he goes. Jesus was, and continues to be, despised and driven out of places where he is desperately needed.

He goes to the city of Gerasenes, which the scripture says is “opposite” of Galilee. On a map, Gerasenes is east of the Sea of Galilee. The two cities were also spiritual opposites. Jesus crossed the Lake from his hometown, a place where the Hebrew God was openly worshiped, a place where Jewish law, customs, and religious practices were central to life. Up until this point Jesus’ ministry had existed within this context.

But now, he was headed to a town of Gentiles, whose religious beliefs were mostly pagan. A town under the authority and law of the Roman Empire. It is in this place that Jesus chooses to perform a profound miracle, in dramatic fashion, and takes his stand against Satan’s legion, an army of darkness.

The second that Jesus steps off the boat he is confronted by these forces. The moment our Savior’s sandaled foot touches the beachy shore a naked and wild houseless man approaches him. I imagine the feeling would be similar to when someone from a quiet, midwestern town arrives in downtown Eugene for the first time. The culture shock would have been immediate.

The naked man says to Jesus, “What have you to do with me?”

My first thought reading this was… excuse me? You approached him? This isn’t how you start a fight. But these demons hadn’t come to start a fight. This was a battle that had already been raging since the early days of God’s kingdom. Jesus had already declared war on the forces of darkness. And now he had come to confront them directly.

The fact that this encounter was part of a spiritual war becomes more apparent when Jesus asks the demon for its name, and it replies, “Legion.” A military term, used to describe an army prepared for battle.

Jesus encountered and cast out demons on a regular basis, but this was no everyday encounter. Jesus dealt primarily with single demons, other than in the case of Mary Magdalene, where he is said to have cast out seven at once. But this was no lone demon, no straggler. This was an unknown number, perhaps several, perhaps a multitude, and they had come to fight.

Like every battle, Jesus won. But he casts the demons out in a different manner this time. An unusual manner.

Now, there are parts of today’s scripture that are uncomfortable- to read, to think about, to preach on. I read today’s verses to my friend Paula and her response? “That’s awful!” I said, what do you mean that’s awful. Jesus healed a man, and he caused some ruckus doing it. He got into the good kind of trouble. This is the type of stuff that I’m here for. 

But I knew what she was referring to before she even said it: “What about the pigs?” And, once she said it, I too couldn’t get past the fate of the pigs. Why would Jesus do that? Those poor pigs. Couldn’t Jesus have just cast the demons into, I don’t know, wherever he sent all the other ones? 

This wasn’t Jesus’ first exorcism, but it was the first one involving an animal sacrifice. I’m embarrassed to say this, but I found myself questioning the choices of the king of kings himself. 

Look, Pigs are one of my favorite animals. If I go to a petting zoo it’s the first animal I’m looking for. I once snuck into an enclosure to comfort a sad-looking sow, and even got in a few good minutes with her before being asked to leave.

I tried modifying the lectionary reading. It’s a great story if you cut out the part about the pigs, right? But the story didn’t make sense without it. We have a man with demons, then suddenly he is healed, and Jesus is being driven out of town once again. It took me a while to realize that the pigs are an integral part of the story. And to realize that Jesus is not to blame for the suffering of those pigs, but that the demons are responsible.

We often question God, even blame God, for acts that He does not commit. We see the destruction caused by the enemy and wrongly attribute it to God. The death of the pigs showed the destructive nature, not of Jesus, but of Satan’s demons. It demonstrates what the demons would have eventually done to the man had Jesus not intervened.

Jesus performed a miracle that day, but was still asked to leave, why? Why do our communities chase out Jesus, shoo away churches, turn away from God? Because all they see is the death and destruction of this world, and not the way that God intervenes. Yes, the world is a dark place, but Jesus was sent to make it better. To bring light into the darkness.

And yet, the reaction of the townspeople was less than positive. While the once-possessed man, now clothed and in his right mind, begged to follow Jesus, the crowd was filled with fear, not joy, and they begged Jesus to leave them. Think about that. They saw a man utterly transformed, reclaimed from the depths of despair and demonic torment, and their response was to dismiss the source of that healing. Their fear, perhaps of economic loss, or of a power too great to comprehend, overshadowed their capacity for wonder and gratitude.

The reaction of the man who had been possessed was exactly what we, as followers of Christ, might expect. He was overwhelmed with gratitude and love for his deliverer. We too, when truly touched by Jesus, desire to follow him, to be with him always. We beg to walk beside him, to learn at his feet, to remain in his comforting presence.

But notice Jesus’ response to the man: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”

This is not a “Not yet” in the sense of a denial, but a commission. It’s a powerful redirection. Jesus isn’t saying, “You can’t follow me.” He’s saying, “Your immediate calling is to be my witness right here, in the place where I have just been asked to leave. You are to be the living proof of my power and my compassion in a community that has just turned its back on me.”

And the man, in an act of beautiful obedience and burning testimony, went away, proclaiming throughout the city, in that very pagan and fearful place, how much Jesus had done for him. He became a living, breathing sermon in a land that wanted nothing to do with the Preacher. He became the light in the deepest part of the darkness, commissioned by Jesus Himself.

Friends, there are many people, many communities, many forces in our world who want to drive out Jesus. They may not say it explicitly, but their actions, their policies, their priorities, effectively tell God, “Depart from us.” They focus on the perceived “cost” or “disruption” of God’s presence – whether it’s the cost of loving the unlovable, the disruption of challenging comfortable norms, or the perceived loss of control when we truly surrender to divine will.

But we, the church, the followers of Jesus, are called to be like that man from the Gerasenes. We have experienced transformation. We have been touched by the liberating power of Christ. 

And instead of keeping that experience to ourselves, or retreating to our safe, comfortable spaces, we are commissioned. We are sent. We are called to return to our homes, to our workplaces, to our neighborhoods, to our communities – even those places that seem resistant or hostile to the message of Christ – and declare what God has done for us.

Our testimony, our changed lives, our acts of compassion and justice, become the very presence of Jesus in a world that might otherwise ignore or actively reject Him. We become the continuing proof that God intervenes, that God brings light into darkness, that God makes things better.

May we never be a church that simply waits for Jesus to arrive, but rather, a people who, having been touched by His grace, eagerly go forth to be His presence. May we be brave enough to share our stories, to live out our faith, and to proclaim the mighty works of God, even in the “opposite” places, even when it feels uncomfortable, even when the world around us would prefer that Jesus just leave.

Let us be the ones who ensure that Jesus, and His message of hope and healing, is never truly driven out.