Reflection - Pigs

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/020419.cfm
Hebrews 11:32-40
Mark 5:1-20

It was not a good day for pigs.

Nope! Not a good day at all.

I suppose we could excuse Jesus’ action in the incident since, for the Jews, pork was an unclean meat. I suppose, too, that we could offer a further excuse by noting that this happened in a region which was of basically Greco-Roman culture. Neither excuse, however, deals with the problem of the pigs. You might say they were just innocent by-standers. But let’s leave the pigs for the moment and take a look at the larger picture.

There are several players in this event; three are groups rather than individuals. We can easily identify each of the following: Jesus, the possessed man, the group of demons known collectively as ‘legion’, the people of the town and the near-by countryside, and then, of course, the pigs.

~Jesus: No explanation needed.

~The possessed man: I cannot personally imagine what possession must be like. Still, the Biblical description suggests something of what the tormented man was experiencing: confusion, disorientation, mental anguish and who knows what else. There was clearly something horrible, even depraved in the man’s behavior.

~Legion: Who knows how long the demons had been enjoying their possession party, or even how it all began. It may have started with just one or a few who then invited other demons to join them. In any case the man’s state was not new.

~The towns-people and rural people: We also know that, before Jesus came, the possessed man was known by the community; in fact, he had a family. The description of his behavior would indicate that much even without Jesus’ comment at the end. Moreover, the community tolerated him in his possessed state as is indicated by their response when Jesus frees him from the infestation.

~The pigs: Minding their own business on a hillside close by.

Now what is remarkable about the incident is what we learn about the people of the community and surrounding countryside; though, admittedly, what we learn should not come as a surprise. Clearly there was something wrong about this man who lived among the tombs and who could not be restrained even by chains. Whatever it was that made him so was clearly evil. The people, in response, had left him to his own devices — or rather to his tormentors devices. We might assume that they were not especially pleased with the situation; but, since there seemed to be nothing they could do, they were content to let him be, so long as it was among the tombs.So, when Jesus frees the man of his possession and they find him clothed and in his right mind, they are joyous . . . . No! They are happy . . . . No! They are afraid. They probably assumed that there must have been some sort of combat between two opposing supernatural powers. It was more than they found sufferable or even tolerable in their, quiet day-to-day existence. Demons were known, were unpleasant, were uncontrollable; and the first principle of dealing with them was: Don’t deal with them. Keep your distance. Don’t rock the boat.

However, their request that Jesus leave suggests that they were equally uncomfortable with the supernatural that had brought a great blessing into the tormented man’s life. It would seem that neither Good nor Evil were particularly welcome if they were going to engage in battle in the town’s backyard. This leaves us in the uncomfortable spot of needing to reflect on our own attitude toward good and evil.

It has often been noted that holiness attracts. While that may well be true, it is also true that holiness may instill disquiet or apprehension about our own state. Even those of evident, yet marginal holiness make us more aware of our own deficiency in holiness. When the various prophets encounter the Lord, they hide their faces from the overwhelming intensity of holiness. When the Father speaks at Jesus’ Transfiguration, the Apostles fall to the ground and hide their faces. The countenance of pure love is troubling for us to the degree we live outside of it. There is a profound dissonance between holiness and our human condition. The depth of that incongruence becomes more challenging when it is confronted by the power of evil. Do we throw our lot in with that which is hideous to behold or with that which we know to be so radically other? The preferred choice seems to be that of the towns-people — we will sit on the sidelines and be spectators of the battle.

The difficulty lies in the venue set for the contest, which happens to be within us. Evil, too, is content to appear a spectator, knowing that it is only with our engagement in the struggle that he is potentially the loser. For evil to win it is sufficient that ‘good men’ do nothing.

So, back to the pigs.

They started as innocent by-standers who became collateral damage. So it would seem that it would be better to actively engage in the conflict rather than to content ourselves with being collateral damage. But then, they didn’t have a choice. We do.