MOST RECENT SERMON
"Going Home"
Second Sunday After Pentecost; based on Luke 8:26-39 (texts at end of post)
June 19, 2022
Jesus said, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”
Last weekend I went home. My husband Charlie and I left on Saturday to attend a memorial gathering for my niece Diana, who died a couple weeks ago. Diana is the oldest daughter of my older sister Dorothy.
Our gathering was at a funeral home in Hutchinson (or as us locals say, “Hutch”), which is 14 miles south of my hometown Dassel. It had been a long time since I had really gone home.
Along the way, we stopped to visit the graves of my parents at the Dassel cemetery. Which reminded me of their funerals and the many funerals I attended growing up. Most of them used the traditional Lutheran service, followed by the even more traditional funeral lunch (which was called “lunch” no matter what time it happened). With ham sandwiches on buttered buns, Jell-O salad, pickles, cake and lots of coffee.
But more important than the food—and maybe even the worship service, which as a pastor I hate to admit—were all the people you saw there. As a young person (and even more so today), it served as a mini family reunion. Where I’d see aunts and uncles, cousins and kinfolk I never saw anywhere else.
Diana’s family decided not to have a funeral service. So, it was just a gathering of relatives and friends, who came together to grieve, share memories of Diana, and reconnect with one another. Some of us talked about how Diana was the person in our family who stayed connected with everyone.
Most families have someone like that. Often a parent or grandparent who keeps track of the latest news about each of us. Like who’s got a new job, who’s moved to a new place, who’s going to school, who’s been sick lately, who’s dealing with changes in their relationships. My mother was that person for me until she died nearly 20 years ago. Since then, it’s been Diana.
Every couple months, Diana would call me. And I knew if I answered her phone call that it would be an hour-long conversation. (You probably know someone like that.) But it wasn’t just family gossip. For even though Diana had only a high school education, she had emotional intelligence. Sometimes we touched on difficult issues.
During one of the last conversations, Diana made a point of saying how much she loved me and Charlie. And she reflected on why anyone would have a problem accepting an LGBTQ family member—especially Christians and churches. And how proud she was of who I was as a gay man and a pastor here in Fargo.
The week after Diana died, I received a strange message through Facebook from a reporter with WCCO Radio. When I was young, WCCO was the radio station that almost everyone in my hometown and throughout Minnesota would listen to (and still do!) My parents had it playing every morning.
So, I was surprised when the reporter, named Jennie, sent me this message about my niece Diana:
“There is a [woman named] Diana [who used to call every Tuesday] for a WCCO segment called ‘Ask Adam Anything.’ [The program hosts] Adam, Chad and Dan loved her, but she [hadn’t] called in for a while…. Her interactions with [them] were so authentic.”
It seems that for them “Diana” was a bit of celebrity. Jennie told me she saw Diana’s obituary online and wondered if it was the same Diana. Jennie could see Diana’s personality shining through in her obituary photo—with her smiling face, a New Year’s hat perched on her head, and a Hawaiian lei around her neck.
In the miracle of the Internet, Jennie saw my Facebook post about Diana, which prompted her to reach out to me, with some hesitation. “Being you are a minister,’ she told me, “I thought… you would dismiss me… and pray for me being a nut of some kind. Thank you so much for answering.”
Eventually, we figured out it really was the same Diana. The Tuesday before her funeral, WCCO remembered Diana on radio shows. They talked about her and read her obituary. They even played one of her conversations. Listening to that recording, I immediately recognized Diana’s raspy voice and laugh.
The hosts shared what Diana meant to them and their shows—even though none of them had ever met her and didn’t even know her last name. It made me feel proud to be her uncle.
I know this is a long story. You’re probably thinking, “Pastor Joe, are you ever going to get to the real sermon for today?” Or maybe, if you know me well, you already know what I’m going to say next. For I believe that what Diana did for people through her conversations—which had a much wider impact than I ever knew—is the same kind of thing that Jesus did in his ministry.
Maybe that’s why—long before radios or TVs or social media—the crowds followed Jesus from town to town to hear what Jesus had to say and to talk with him. Maybe that’s why fathers and mothers brought their sick children and loved ones for Jesus to gently touch and heal. Maybe that’s why a few individuals even invited Jesus into their homes during funeral gatherings to bring back to life their dearly departed.
And maybe that’s why in today’s Gospel story, Jesus crosses the Sea of Galilee to the other side of the lake and sits down with a man who today we would say has a serious mental illness. A homeless man from a town inhabited mostly by Gentiles (non-Jews)—including Roman soldiers of an oppressive empire. A nameless man living in a cemetery next to a field of pigs—an animal not eaten for religious reasons by Jesus’ Jewish family and community.
Yet, despite all the levels of ritual uncleanness for someone living among swine and the dead, despite all the fear and misunderstanding and stigma that even back then were linked to mental illness, Jesus stops to talk with the man in this story. And even when the man shouts at Jesus—asking why Jesus would have anything to do with him—Jesus doesn’t walk away or call the police, as we might do when faced with someone like that. Instead, I imagine Jesus sitting down with him and quietly deescalating the situation.
And even though most Christians read this story as a miracle about freeing a man from demon possession, I like to think that the real miracle here is that Jesus meets this distressed and desperate individual in the midst of his painful reality and social isolation. And with the emotional intelligence of someone like my niece Diana, Jesus listens and accepts him as the person he is—long before there were any crisis lines or professional counselors for people living with mental illness.
Just like any of us today struggling with depression or anxiety or even thoughts of suicide sometimes simply want to be heard and understood. Sadly, even with our modern mental health care and the many medications that help us better treat mental illnesses today, it’s still a challenge (especially in this area) to find a therapist or pastor or even a church member who really listens and truly understands your situation. On a personal level, during this past year when I found the need to see a therapist, it took me nearly six months to finally connect with an openly gay counselor here in Fargo—which in many ways made me feel like I had finally come home.
And I believe that is exactly what Jesus does in this story. And once he gains the man’s trust, Jesus heals him. And even though the healed man begs to go with Jesus—the only one who has truly understood his ordeal—Jesus smiles and softly encourages him to stay, with these words: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”
Some people may think of this story as a kind of miracle found only in our Gospels. And maybe that’s true. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the kind of miracle that still happens in a community like St. Mark’s.
Where we strive to offer a safe place for those of us struggling with mental illness, grief, addiction, or issues related to gender identity and sexual orientation. Where Jesus is still present as we gather each week and welcome the newcomer among us. Where we hear the words of Jesus spoken once more across the abyss of the centuries.
Where we feel Jesus touch our hearts with healing as we share ordinary bread and wine—transformed miraculously into means of grace. Where for many of us it feels like coming home.
I believe that kind of homecoming happens today whenever we truly listen to one another. And in that holy listening, you might hear Jesus saying the same words he spoke so long ago: “Go back to your home, and tell everyone how much God has done for you.” Amen.
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Gospel Lesson: Luke 8:26-39
Then [Jesus and his disciples] arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time, he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”—for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So, he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So, he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So, he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.
Last weekend I went home. My husband Charlie and I left on Saturday to attend a memorial gathering for my niece Diana, who died a couple weeks ago. Diana is the oldest daughter of my older sister Dorothy.
Our gathering was at a funeral home in Hutchinson (or as us locals say, “Hutch”), which is 14 miles south of my hometown Dassel. It had been a long time since I had really gone home.
Along the way, we stopped to visit the graves of my parents at the Dassel cemetery. Which reminded me of their funerals and the many funerals I attended growing up. Most of them used the traditional Lutheran service, followed by the even more traditional funeral lunch (which was called “lunch” no matter what time it happened). With ham sandwiches on buttered buns, Jell-O salad, pickles, cake and lots of coffee.
But more important than the food—and maybe even the worship service, which as a pastor I hate to admit—were all the people you saw there. As a young person (and even more so today), it served as a mini family reunion. Where I’d see aunts and uncles, cousins and kinfolk I never saw anywhere else.
Diana’s family decided not to have a funeral service. So, it was just a gathering of relatives and friends, who came together to grieve, share memories of Diana, and reconnect with one another. Some of us talked about how Diana was the person in our family who stayed connected with everyone.
Most families have someone like that. Often a parent or grandparent who keeps track of the latest news about each of us. Like who’s got a new job, who’s moved to a new place, who’s going to school, who’s been sick lately, who’s dealing with changes in their relationships. My mother was that person for me until she died nearly 20 years ago. Since then, it’s been Diana.
Every couple months, Diana would call me. And I knew if I answered her phone call that it would be an hour-long conversation. (You probably know someone like that.) But it wasn’t just family gossip. For even though Diana had only a high school education, she had emotional intelligence. Sometimes we touched on difficult issues.
During one of the last conversations, Diana made a point of saying how much she loved me and Charlie. And she reflected on why anyone would have a problem accepting an LGBTQ family member—especially Christians and churches. And how proud she was of who I was as a gay man and a pastor here in Fargo.
The week after Diana died, I received a strange message through Facebook from a reporter with WCCO Radio. When I was young, WCCO was the radio station that almost everyone in my hometown and throughout Minnesota would listen to (and still do!) My parents had it playing every morning.
So, I was surprised when the reporter, named Jennie, sent me this message about my niece Diana:
“There is a [woman named] Diana [who used to call every Tuesday] for a WCCO segment called ‘Ask Adam Anything.’ [The program hosts] Adam, Chad and Dan loved her, but she [hadn’t] called in for a while…. Her interactions with [them] were so authentic.”
It seems that for them “Diana” was a bit of celebrity. Jennie told me she saw Diana’s obituary online and wondered if it was the same Diana. Jennie could see Diana’s personality shining through in her obituary photo—with her smiling face, a New Year’s hat perched on her head, and a Hawaiian lei around her neck.
In the miracle of the Internet, Jennie saw my Facebook post about Diana, which prompted her to reach out to me, with some hesitation. “Being you are a minister,’ she told me, “I thought… you would dismiss me… and pray for me being a nut of some kind. Thank you so much for answering.”
Eventually, we figured out it really was the same Diana. The Tuesday before her funeral, WCCO remembered Diana on radio shows. They talked about her and read her obituary. They even played one of her conversations. Listening to that recording, I immediately recognized Diana’s raspy voice and laugh.
The hosts shared what Diana meant to them and their shows—even though none of them had ever met her and didn’t even know her last name. It made me feel proud to be her uncle.
I know this is a long story. You’re probably thinking, “Pastor Joe, are you ever going to get to the real sermon for today?” Or maybe, if you know me well, you already know what I’m going to say next. For I believe that what Diana did for people through her conversations—which had a much wider impact than I ever knew—is the same kind of thing that Jesus did in his ministry.
Maybe that’s why—long before radios or TVs or social media—the crowds followed Jesus from town to town to hear what Jesus had to say and to talk with him. Maybe that’s why fathers and mothers brought their sick children and loved ones for Jesus to gently touch and heal. Maybe that’s why a few individuals even invited Jesus into their homes during funeral gatherings to bring back to life their dearly departed.
And maybe that’s why in today’s Gospel story, Jesus crosses the Sea of Galilee to the other side of the lake and sits down with a man who today we would say has a serious mental illness. A homeless man from a town inhabited mostly by Gentiles (non-Jews)—including Roman soldiers of an oppressive empire. A nameless man living in a cemetery next to a field of pigs—an animal not eaten for religious reasons by Jesus’ Jewish family and community.
Yet, despite all the levels of ritual uncleanness for someone living among swine and the dead, despite all the fear and misunderstanding and stigma that even back then were linked to mental illness, Jesus stops to talk with the man in this story. And even when the man shouts at Jesus—asking why Jesus would have anything to do with him—Jesus doesn’t walk away or call the police, as we might do when faced with someone like that. Instead, I imagine Jesus sitting down with him and quietly deescalating the situation.
And even though most Christians read this story as a miracle about freeing a man from demon possession, I like to think that the real miracle here is that Jesus meets this distressed and desperate individual in the midst of his painful reality and social isolation. And with the emotional intelligence of someone like my niece Diana, Jesus listens and accepts him as the person he is—long before there were any crisis lines or professional counselors for people living with mental illness.
Just like any of us today struggling with depression or anxiety or even thoughts of suicide sometimes simply want to be heard and understood. Sadly, even with our modern mental health care and the many medications that help us better treat mental illnesses today, it’s still a challenge (especially in this area) to find a therapist or pastor or even a church member who really listens and truly understands your situation. On a personal level, during this past year when I found the need to see a therapist, it took me nearly six months to finally connect with an openly gay counselor here in Fargo—which in many ways made me feel like I had finally come home.
And I believe that is exactly what Jesus does in this story. And once he gains the man’s trust, Jesus heals him. And even though the healed man begs to go with Jesus—the only one who has truly understood his ordeal—Jesus smiles and softly encourages him to stay, with these words: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”
Some people may think of this story as a kind of miracle found only in our Gospels. And maybe that’s true. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the kind of miracle that still happens in a community like St. Mark’s.
Where we strive to offer a safe place for those of us struggling with mental illness, grief, addiction, or issues related to gender identity and sexual orientation. Where Jesus is still present as we gather each week and welcome the newcomer among us. Where we hear the words of Jesus spoken once more across the abyss of the centuries.
Where we feel Jesus touch our hearts with healing as we share ordinary bread and wine—transformed miraculously into means of grace. Where for many of us it feels like coming home.
I believe that kind of homecoming happens today whenever we truly listen to one another. And in that holy listening, you might hear Jesus saying the same words he spoke so long ago: “Go back to your home, and tell everyone how much God has done for you.” Amen.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
Gospel Lesson: Luke 8:26-39
Then [Jesus and his disciples] arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time, he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”—for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So, he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So, he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So, he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.
