T
here was enough of a breeze left to gently push us south eastward. It didn’t take long before the boats brushed their prows onto the muddy bottom near the small city of Gergasa. The moon had risen high casting pale light and laying her halo around the shadows. To the right of us could seen steep bluffs. In the shadows of the bluffs lay no less than two thousand pigs which could not be seen from our vantage point, but I was to learn of them. In the end, their stinking bodies would add to the already unforgettable memories of this day. But I overreach myself . . .
He lay naked upon the cold limestone floor of the cave. His companion, also naked, lay next to him. The sexual fire that sometimes inflamed them toward one another was now buried deep within the pain of the cold in their bones. Their flesh trembled, muscles cramped. They shifted, turning their bodies often, trying to find a position for a few minutes comfort. The trembling found its source in the cold for sure, but there was something else: cold fear. They were helpless before it, or more accurately, them. They had long since given up the fight. They had long since surrendered to the hideous, foul thing in their bodies that also had the power to captivate their minds at will. Their bodies were bruised with blue welts and open sores from cutting themselves and each other with shards of glass and clay. His companion screamed. It lasted several seconds, starting as a low growl and escalating into a high-pitched shriek. It didn’t wake him, but it disturbed him from his own foggy existence. He felt the pain in his stomach and then his chest; He opened his eyes to see his companion arched on the floor. Only the back of his head and his heels touched the floor. The rest of his body arched like a bow about to loose an arrow. His stomach protruded in the air. From his unmoving but open lips issued forth an evil howl and then guttural words . . . “He comes! He comes! He comes!”
“NO! No, it cannot be! It is not the appointed time.” The voice had leapt from his companion to his own mouth. He felt his body stiffen, muscles turning to iron. His lips and jaws immobile. He could not move them yet this horrible sound, these frightened words issued from them. Spittle drooled from his mouth; his bladder and bowels released themselves, filling the cave with noxious odors. He picked up his excrement and flung it at his companion. “Stop it!” he cried in his own voice. “It is them . . “ His voice changed in mid-sentence, “Hiaeeeee!” He stood, every muscle in his body rigid and quivering at the same time. He leapt and fell forward at the same time. As his head approached the ground he tucked it just enough so that his shoulders took the force of striking the ground. In a second, his companion was on top of him, pummeling him about the body and face. Blood spurted from his nose. He caught his tormentor’s head and bit, hard. The man’s ear came off in his mouth. Screaming, his companion reached for his head. This gave the other the opportunity to place his hands on his companion’s chest and shove. The man literally flew through the air slamming into the ceiling of the cave and falling to the floor, almost unconscious. The voice within the man continued to scream expletive after expletive. The other man stood and walked out of the cave. When he saw the moon, he wailed.
I heard the scream come from the shadows of the bluff. Jesus lifted his head and looked in the direction of the mournful sound. The expression on his face became fierce. “Come!” he commanded. We all followed, even the ones who were in the other boats. There were more than seventy of us. He walked directly toward the sound. The dog whined.
“Master, wait,” said one of the men from the other boats. “I know what that sound is.”
“So do I.”
“Master,” the man insisting, “there are two men who live in the tombs up there. They are monsters. Filthy monsters. They cannot be bound . . . much too strong. They will kill . . ."
”Stay if you are afraid,” responded Jesus. “They are men in great pain. I intend to help them.” I don’t know what made us follow. I suppose it was the storm, or what he did in the midst of the storm. We were all afraid. All had heard of these two desperate demoniacs. None ventured too close to them. They were insane. They were more than insane. They were maniacal, homicidal, fierce and dangerous.
It was only a short walk to the south of Gergesa where a steep bluff descended abruptly to a narrow ledge of shore. The whole surrounding country is burrowed with caverns and rock chambers for the dead. After a few minutes of walking in the direction of the howling, two men stumbled out of the shadows to meet us. They looked like beasts. In these unclean places of the dead, these unclean incorrigibles found congenial homes. There was a Jewish superstition that demons dwelt in deserted, lonely places and would come out at night to haunt. These two were no superstition.
Jesus remembered the wilderness. There, the person of evil had appeared suave, sophisticated, academic. Here, foul and repulsive. Night and day among the tombs and in the hills these men uttered cries and cut themselves with shards. When at last, they saw Jesus, it appeared as though they would run away. Jesus stopped, his jaw set, his countenance determined. They stopped retreating, hesitated for a moment, and then incredibly, came toward him! They fell at his feet, not in adoration, but in total submission. It was a despicable thing to watch. Two grown men, naked, dirty, bleeding, one of them his mouth bloody, the other with half an ear, the stench of human excrement. A foul, foul, thing. A foul thing! One of them opened his mouth. It formed a misshapen hole in his head. His chest and stomach muscles heaved as if he were about to vomit. Instead, he screamed. Again the lips, the tongue did not move, except to undulate uncontrollably, yet clear, guttural words issued forth at what seemed to be the top of his voice, “Jesus! Son of the Most High God! What do you want with me?” He paused, bony ribs and chest heaving, “Why have you come to torment me before the time? Swear to God that you won’t torture me!”
How came this vile creature, how came either of them to know Jesus? They had never laid eyes on him before this moment. And why would they address him as ‘Son of the Most High God?’ How could they know? And what is this ‘time’ of which they speak? And how does this pathetic man speak from his throat without moving his lips?
“You will leave these men.” Jesus spoke quietly in great contrast to the screaming going on before him. The man’s eyes opened wide, staring at Jesus in what seemed to be morbid fear. Jesus spoke again, this time I could hear a note of compassion in his voice. “What is your name?” he asked. It seemed to me that the question was directed at the man, not the howling thing within him.
The man’s eyes rolled up into his head so that only their whites showed. He was locked in this terrible creature’s grip, “My name is . . “ It wouldn’t come. He tried again, “My name is
“Legion?” Jesus appeared almost amused. How could be so calm, so self-assured in the presence of something so evil? I could not understand it. “That seems ambitious,” he said. Are you over six thousand strong?”
“We are many!” the thing replied.
“Yes,” said Jesus as though he were bored with this whole scene, “Legion. Well, Legion, what shall I do with you? As you have said, your time has not come. Not yet. Where do you wish to go, back to your abyss?”
“NO!” they screamed. “No! Please!” They were begging. These horrible things in these men were begging. The overwhelming power of our friend Jesus over their evil power . . . I cannot speak it! It is beyond my imagination! “Send us instead into the pigs.”
The pigs were feeding on the nearby hillside. Jesus considered the sorry spectacle for a moment and then uttered, “Leave these men.” And then louder, “Leave these men at once!” The two men collapsed on the ground as if they were rags. The pigs however, began to squeal and mill about. Their agitation became severe and they began to pile on one another. Their tenders panicked. Suddenly the herd surged down the bluff toward the sea. The water churned with onrushing bodies of helpless animals falling over the precipice. A terrible spectacle. The force and momentum of the stampeding herd pushed those in front of them in by the hundreds. They were drowning. I am a Jew. I do not like swine but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse at the waste of life. Their carcasses floated on the surface, owing no doubt to the immense fat they carried. Those tending the pigs ran off and reported all of this in the town.
When things quieted, Jesus bent over the fallen men. They were unconscious. He touched the side of the head of the man whose ear had been bitten away, ripped from its mooring. When he took his hand away, a new ear had formed. “Help me, John,” who stood nearby. He lifted one of them by the armpits and leaned him against a rock. “Someone get water. Tunics. Clean them up and dress them.” We passed the remainder of the night around a campfire, tending to the two men.
The effect of the swine herders’ news was no surprise. Almost everyone in Gergasa came out to see what had happened. Days later, floating bodies of pigs were found around the shores of Galilee. But in Gergasa, they saw the men who had been possessed sitting there leaning against the rock, dressed and in their right minds. This frightened them as much as seeing them demonized. They knew these men. They had heard their howls in the distant night. Now they could see the pigs floating in the water. Then incredibly, they began to plead with Jesus to leave their region. It was, I suppose too much for them. I wondered why no one sought to blame Jesus for the destruction of held property. Then I heard a rumor that Jews owned the pigs, illegally. Jews! I couldn’t believe what lengths some of us would go to for profit.
Jesus turned to leave. As he was stepping into the boat, the two men came to him and begged, “Lord,” they said. How easy this word came to them now whereas before they could utter only unintelligible grunts and moans. “Lord . . . take us with you. We owe you our very lives.”
Jesus said to them, “You will serve me better here in Gergasa. Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord God has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” Oddly, they did not argue and seemed to sense no feelings of rejection. They were comforted with the thought that they would actually be messengers of the mercy of God. Perhaps they, who had been such a terror to their fellow human beings, could now bring them benefit.
Word had it that they became quite the evangelists. They preached throughout the Ten Cities (the Decapolis) all that Jesus had done for him. People were amazed. How many believed because of the energy these two expended? Only God knows. Even today, decades later, I hear of their preaching. I wonder at the memory.
There is not so much demon activity these days. It seemed that from the baptism of Jesus to the day he was taken from us, demon possession was something to be dealt with. Since the Holy Spirit has come, it seems held in check. I do not understand the purpose the evil one has in making men and women foam at the mouth and cut themselves. It is all so disgusting and unappealing. I only know the power the name of Jesus has over them. It is total.
