Demonic RCIA Candidates – Thinking Mark 1:21-28

I don’t know what possessed me. . .

. . . When I said that

. . . When I did that

. . . Or when I could not restrain my hand from doing harm; my mouth from uttering hurt.

What Jesus encounters in the Capernaum synagogue―a man possessed―stretches contemporary credibility, though anything demonic is fascinating. What most of us know about possession—the Capernaum sort—is what we’ve seen from Ghost Busters or The Exorcist or The Amityville Horror or some equally fanciful fiction.

We are a modern people, complete with all the latest medical gadgetry and psychological theories. Who believes in this stuff anymore? We just don’t scare that easily any more, unless it is for our entertainment.

Back to the synagogue in Capernaum: This poor guy needed some firm medication for his schizophrenia.

I have a schizophrenic acquaintance. We chat and we’ve had coffee. The Rx he takes “slows” him down too much, so he doses a little street meth to get him up, feeling normal. If the meth is too agitating, a little marijuana steps between the two drugs and blunts the worst of both, and he’s good to go.

Except when he isn’t, and the demons start talking to him, again. For a long time they give him bad instructions: on his self worth, on his value to anyone; he should off himself. But their tone over the last year has shifted from urging self-harm to one of Christian inquiry. They overhear his prayers, he thinks. In his mind they’re candidates for RCIA.

He relates basic stuff about Jesus, when they ask, and he tells them about the Mass. This Jesus stuff is new to them; perhaps the devil has not given full disclosure? They go away until they come back with more questions. “Can we be saved?” is the latest of their inquiries. Aquinas is a tad stern on the subject; their demonic nature is fixed and they will not be saved.

But the Blessed Thomas can’t always be right. Besides there’s St. Jerome with his commentary on the New Testament saying the opposite: “The apostate angels, and the prince of this world, though now ungovernable, plunging themselves into the depths of sin, shall, in the end, embrace the happy dominion of Christ and His saints.” If devils there be, I lean to St. Jerome. (Of course, Jerome may have made the argument to refute Tertullian; hard to keep up with those third and fourth century tweets.)

Does my friend hear demons? I don’t think so. I think his schizophrenic mind and could just as easily produce radio signals from aliens. I’ve told him that and he agrees, though he hopes its demons; he wants to be their evangelist. But I listen and I know he believes demons speak to him.

I am rather agnostic on the whole subject of the devil and his crew, despite reading on the subject and having met a couple exorcists. But it doesn’t matter what I think, and it certainly did not matter in Capernaum whatever modernists like us may think.

The man in Capernaum believed he was possessed by a demon. The people there believed he was possessed by a demon. Everyone believed it was possible to be possessed by a demon. Jesus did not dispute it. Jesus never quibbled about it as I might nor remark on it in any way, or shy away from it. He did take authority, and announced deliverance.

“What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God.”

And Jesus announced deliverance of the man with such force and will, and energy and vigor that everyone, even the demon, was amazed.

The word of Jesus Christ—read in scripture, given in sermon, sung in hymn, declared at the altar—is still capable of amazing authority—an authority born of sanctifying deliverance.

And at this point we must take the demon at its word. From the mouths’ of demons we hear: “Jesus is the holy one of God.”

And the demon’s question is still our question, too. “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?”

The answer is simple.

The holy one of God seeks to take possession of us; seeks you, seeks me for his possession. Seeks to make His will your will, seeks to make His life your life; seeks to make you His own.

I just don’t know what possessed me . . .

. . . When my hand caressed and did not hurt

. . . When my words soothed or summoned laughter, and did not sting

. . . When my greedy soul was moved to compassion and generosity

. . . When, within my palm, I enthroned the Host of Communion.

In whose possession was I then?

Russell E. Saltzman publishes every Tuesday and Thursday usually by noon Central Time. He can be reached on Twitter as @RESaltzman, on Facebook as Russ Saltzman, and by email: [email protected].