It's not just about cliques

Demons are everywhere, quite happily messing with people in every household on earth. Yet, no one likes to chat about demons, much less sit around and practice exorcising them. We don’t think to call an exorcist. Not ever. In Jesus’ time nobody called out first for an exorcist either. That wasn’t a first thought thing then anymore than it is now. They just tied a possessed guy or gal up to a post and tossed them food. They lived off by themselves in the woods, or on an island, or in a cave. 

Nobody had a slam-dunk solution for possessed people — until Jesus came along. Today we still don’t call for Jesus, though. We have valium, and opioids, and yoga. Nobody calls an exorcist. That makes this scripture important. Jesus trained all his disciples to do it. Yet, today, I have no idea how it works. I don't know anyone who does. I know priests who cringe at the notion. Really. So what's going on with this rogue exorcist and John's institutional worry?

Options for the Holy Spirit are many, often, and impeccably appropriate


http://usccb.org/bible/readings/093019.cfm
Zechariah 8:1-8
Luke 9:46-50


"Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name
and we tried to prevent him
because he does not follow in our company."

My first focus on this reading for today, the common place to begin, was that last phrase, “… because he does not follow in our company.” This unknown exorcist fellow initially piques our interest. He is mentioned first. The motivation heard in that last phrase, though, shifts our focus. We quickly center on a clique-type response of a disciple. The disciple, John, zeroes in on the institutional nature of Jesus’ disciples as a band of brothers. They are naturally wary of outsiders. 

I say “institutional” nature of this newly forming Church, because in Luke’s previous reported incident — Luke 9:46-48 — an institutional teaching is also addressed. So, it makes sense that our thoughts head in that direction with John’s “doesn’t follow in our company” briefing to Jesus here in Luke 9:49. “Which of us are the greatest?” the disciples had earlier argued. Jesus responded that in the hierarchy of his formed Church, his Mystical Body, the ones who serve others in Jesus’ name stand as the most significant and prominent. He used the protection of a child in his arms as an example of preeminent care-taking and service — serving the “least” identifies those who are “great.”

The frame of John’s statement regarding the rogue exorcist, by most homilists, is to tease him for saying it. John is the perpetrator of a boisterous report, bragging about a thuggish attack (he is one of the Sons of Thunder, by the way) upon a rogue, uncertified disciple. His reaction, in fact, is called childish. Well, this is Saint John we’re talking about. He’s the mystical apostle, not a childish thug. He wrote both the last Gospel and the Book of Revelation (serious texts), and he was the apostle that Jesus loved. John is the first theological giant of the Church. Granted he was just a kid at the time, probably still in his teens. But, he was voicing the feelings of several disciples. “We tried to stop him, because we didn’t know him.” Should we chastise him because he reports this infraction to Jesus? We infer his report was braggadocious. Is that true?

It’s not just the pre-teen clique-sounding thing said by John that gets to us to imagine bragging. We’re uncomfortable with the institutional nature of groups of people, because we worry about self-serving and comrade/militaristic qualities. Assemblies of people tend to ostracize others. We love friendship and brotherhood/sisterhood classifications, yet we despise our tendency to separate ourselves. We imagine that, don’t we? Especially when the traumas of our personal shunned and spurned experiences are triggered. 

We don’t hear John’s worry in his alarm at the unknown exorcist. “Hey, we’re the guys who cast out demons! Who said you could do that?” We hear the beginnings of bigotry, tightly held power, and identity politics. How far from the Pharisees is the attitude we hear in John’s reaction? “Hey, we’re the fellas with the titles and accreditation around here! Who said you could do that?” 

But what if that’s not all that happened here. What if the disciples were truly admonishing someone who shouldn’t be out there doing an exorcism? What if they were naturally and not just nominally correct in their assessment? Doesn’t it make sense they were shocked it was even possible this guy could exorcize?

The standard wheat bread package for our edification in this scripture centers on cliques. Don’t dismiss people you don’t know. OK, that’s fine. But, how about considering our learned ability to allow differences in everything we do as the point of this scripture. Sure Jesus knows classifications of people is natural. In the formation of his Mystical Body, in fact, there are the same kinds of things. We must be educated about others having the same abilities, motivations, and even indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

Bread choices at a restaurant are sometimes not even on the menu. They are simply preferences you like. Wheat is almost always the first option we hear about, but it’s not the only one. “You want wheat or rye?” That’s common. Nobody asks, “You want rye, pumpernickel, or sourdough?” Wheat is seldom left off. It's the stalwart, the go-to.

The most obvious option, like wheat, supersedes the outliers. It’s the standard. In this scripture wheat is the natural institutional framework for the disciples. They’re now just hearing about other options — rye, pumpernickel and sourdough. After teaching that service and servant are the hallmarks of greatness, Jesus now teaches them that the Mystical Body has more examples of gathered grains. 

That rogue exorcist is actually the most revolutionary and startling institutional part of these verses. Somebody strange and unknown was out there performing exorcisms by invoking the name of Jesus, and the disciples saw it. They couldn’t believe it was happening. Exorcism, arguably, is the more difficult healing service to attend to. It’s the surprising part of the scripture, because a pumpernickel fella is performing an exorcism. 

This odd and complicated procedure — here incantated by a pumpernickel and not a wheat — is the source of the disciple’s consternation. Exorcism is the incredible ability to cast out a demon. Few people knew how to exorcise demons in Jesus’ time. It is perhaps the most difficult of all miracles performed by a follower of Jesus. Jesus had to show them how to do it.

In the Catholic Church there are less than 100 officially trained exorcists in the world. That’s the whole world. One hundred. That’s one exorcist for every 80 million people. 240,000 people are struck by lightening every year, and 6,000 die.  That’s rare. We have more than a million hospitals available for treatments of lightening strikes for good reason. There must a billion people battling with demons. Why are there are only 100 exorcists world-wide? How do you even find one when you need one? Dial 1-800-exorcist? Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? We don’t think of exorcising demons. How many times have you yelled from a hotel lobby or a movie theatre, “Is there an exorcist in the house?” 

About the same number of people will win big in the lottery every year than there are exorcists available. And yet, there are literally millions of financial advisors ready to help you if you win the lottery. Lottery winning syndrome is a thing, and millions of financial advisors are trained to handle a hundred people’s needs if they win the lottery. There are fewer sword swallowers than exorcists in the world. Yet, if you want a sword swallower to entertain your guests at a party, or a bar-mitzvah, you can locate three of them in about an hour.

Demons are everywhere, quite happily messing with people in just about every household on earth. Yet, no one likes to chat about demons, much less sit around and practice exorcising them. We don’t think to call an exorcist. Not ever. In Jesus’ time nobody really called for an exorcist either. That wasn’t a first thought thing then anymore than it is now. They just tied a possessed guy or gal up to a post and tossed them food. They lived off by themselves in the woods, or on an island, or in a cave. Nobody had a slam-dunk solution for possessed people — until Jesus came along. Today we still don’t call for Jesus, though. We have valium, and opioids, and yoga. Nobody calls an exorcist. That makes this scripture important. Jesus trained all his disciples to do it. Yet, today, I have no idea how it works. I don't know anyone who does. I know priests who cringe at the notion. Really. So what's going on with this rogue exorcist and John's institutional worry?

So, imagine you and your buddies are hanging around Palestine villages and towns, where people live in clusters of hundreds of people. How many possessed people are there in Jesus’ time? Let’s say it’s pretty high. Sun, locusts, lack of lithium, nasty lice gnawing on your head, and just plain ornery rules and gossip-laden chatter. That’s gonna get to people after awhile. Two hundred. Let’s say 200 people all together are taken over by Satan’s demonic crew within a day's walk of wherever Jesus sits. That's probably high.

Well, Jesus had already cured maybe four or five of them. The disciples exorcised another 10, maybe 20, right? There’s no internet, no “Here’s How Jesus Did IT!” exorcist manuals, and no punch list of steps that have outlined the incantations of Jesus’ procedures. Most people spent every day working their butts off to eat and keep a roof over their heads. Nobody’s thinking about packaging exorcism in Jesus’ day. It’s a brand new reality. Yet, this unknown guy is exorsizing like a Jesus-trained pro.

Our rogue exorcists is on fire. People bring bedraggled fellows to this unknown healer. “In the name of Christ, Jesus, the Son of God, I command you to leave this tortured man!” At the same time, there’s John and a couple of the disciples watching what’s going on. “Uh oh,” he says. What is going on here? This could get out of hand. “Hang on there buddy!” John yells at him. “We’re not so sure you should be trying this out, especially without a net.” (In those days they would have said, without a pile of hay.)

Remember, the disciples having been trained and sent out and organized by Jesus into a group of 70, and 12, and the three of Peter, James and John. Jesus organized them into a hierarchy. They’ve already exorcised demons. They follow Jesus. Jesus teaches them. They’ve begun systematizing all kinds of their work. The institution is being actively implemented. Procedures are already in place. And now they are confronted by an unknown preacher and healer. When they report this to Jesus, he simply says, "Do not prevent him, for whoever is not against you is for you." 

Wow. Apparently, Jesus is already familiar with this possibility. He's aware of the breadth of the Holy Spirit's reach. The heads of the disciples have only recently spun with the idea that service and care of the least is the sign of greatness. Now this? Their institutional framework has now expanded into the world of multi-grain management. What's next. We can eat pork?

The human systems of scriptural stewardship, liturgy, preaching, hearing confessions, and everything else we Christians take seriously makes sense. Systems are important. They confine us into logical processes, both for efficiency and for authenticity. They don’t confine God, though. Oh. That's right. This isn't your typical human system here. It's a "Mystical" body with mind-blowing tentacles and reach.

The Holy Spirit gathers us by taking us from places that are not within this company of wheat. We aren’t born into this community or company of believers, but gathered into it by God. Jesus’ lesson is that he’s working with everybody and forming other graineries — pumpernickels, sourdoughs, and ryes, along with the main group of wheat. It’s not just us wheat folks. "Do not prevent him.”

God is working everywhere. Probably most visible are the followers in the wheat, like us. We’re part of a system of sacraments, prayers, parishes, and retreats. But there’s lots of people being turned over by God. Wheat seems most likely because that's where we're grazing. Obviously they’re are others in the rye, the sourdough, and the pumpernickel arenas, just to name a few. They're being gathered differently, and even with a foreign face. We know this intellectually, and even viscerally. To us other Christians look odd, distasteful, and even silly. Yet, for many of us, that’s exactly where we originated. We left the others whom we didn't understand.

A number of us believers were not even grown in a wheat or rye field breathed upon by the Holy Spirit. We were unhappy in place that felt foreign to us.  Another large batch of us left our home-grown company of believers due to institutional argument or some other more grave choice. God got to us somehow, turned our heads, and then introduced us to ones already gathered. It’s not that far-fetched to imagine. Others are being awakened and trained by God in different places. “Don’t prevent them.” 

Expect that the Holy Spirit will gather everyone in. Even those who don't ever join up will still experience all the graces of God. His blessings fall upon everyone. Yup, the classic story about cliques is really what’s going on here. It’s just bigger than we thought. Even the really hard stuff, like exorcisms, are happening completely outside of our gathered faith communities. The grain-gathered Churches that take the casting of demons out in the name of Jesus, and implement them with serious thought, are, in fact, legitimate. "Don't prevent them." 

Gathering believers is not a competition, but a glorious administration generated by the Holy Spirit. It’s more than just fine. It's praise-worthy. Expect the options for the Holy Spirit to be many, often, and impeccably appropriate. 

Using Format