Have you ever had one of those days when you didn’t feel like you belong?  Maybe you’re somewhere new…somewhere different…and you’re not confident you’re going to fit in?

When I was a college student, there was a woman I dated during my junior year. (This was, of course, before I’d been swept off my feet by Lori).  Early in the summer after the school year ended, this woman invited me to be her “plus-one” …her date at a wedding in her hometown.  

I had nothing else going on that weekend, so sure…why not! 

What I didn’t realize was that this woman had been asked to be one of the bridesmaids in the wedding.  You know how they say that hindsight is always 20/20?  Well, in hindsight…going to this wedding…was a bad idea.  I hadn’t really considered that being a bridesmaid, this woman would have…you know…responsibilities.

  • We drove there on a Friday afternoon so that we could go the rehearsal…where I knew no one and I sat by myself in a pew of the church about halfway back and watched.  It was…awkward. 
  • Then we went to the groom’s dinner…where I knew no one.  The wedding party was seated together at a head table, so I was separated from my date.  It was pretty…awkward.
  • The next day, I sat in a church full of strangers…by myself and watched two people I didn’t know get married.  It was…you know…awkward.  
  • Then there was the reception…where of course, the wedding party was again seated together at the head table.  And where I was seated at table #48 with the groom’s 2nd cousins, and nephews and nieces.  Which was…of course…awkward.

It wasn’t done with any kind of intent…but there was a definite line…with friends and family on one side…and me on the other!  Memo to self:  No more wedding dates…with bridesmaids.

There’s something unsettling about being outside your comfort zone, when you don’t have relationships, and you’re not fluent in the culture or the expectations. That is the context for today’s Gospel reading.  Here, Jesus goes way outside his cultural comfort zone. Not by mistake. But on purpose.

He steps off a boat into the land of the Gerasenes, right smack dab in the middle of Gentile territory. Simply by being there, Jesus was crossing religious boundaries, cultural boundaries, political boundaries, and even spiritual boundaries. And he does it all to meet one man. One man who has been cast out, chained up, forced to live out among the dead, out in the tombs, and written off as being beyond saving.

The scriptures tell us, that the man has been possessed by demons.  And he has been shunned…forced away from his community.

When Jesus finds the man.  He steps right up to him.  He speaks. He asks questions.  He hears the man’s story.  And then Jesus heals. He restores.

Because that’s who Jesus is.  Jesus is the Savior who crosses every boundary to bring people back to life.

We live in a world filled with boundaries, don’t we? Lines that divide, label, and sort. Some are visible in real life…or on maps…borders, fences, zip codes. Others are more subtle: assumptions, prejudices, unspoken rules.

And if we’re honest, we all participate in keeping certain boundaries in place. We decide who’s “in” and who’s “out.” Who fits, and who doesn’t. Who deserves help, and who does not.

It has been so disheartening to witness how the level of our national discourse has become more and more negative, hurtful and divisive in the past year.  The national politicians and pundits use language, assumptions, name calling and insulting to try to gain political power.  Even the political violence our state experienced 10 days ago has become politicized, and people are repeating things that we all know are false.  

This does nothing to heal.  It does nothing to bring people together.  It only continues to draw lines…to divide.  This is not the way of Jesus.

It is, however, exactly what the community around the Gerasene man had done. They’d judged…and they’d drawn a line.  They’d thrown him out. Chained him up. And left him in the graveyard…literally. And if he was out there, they could all pretend everything else was fine.  Out of sight…out of mind.

But then Jesus shows up. And Jesus sees the man.  And he sees him not as a problem, but as a person. Jesus sees the person. By the way, Jesus always sees the person.

Jesus doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t ask for credentials. He doesn’t enforce the boundary. No, in fact, he blows right through it.

And this is where Paul’s words from Galatians in our first reading today hits with even more force.  Paul writes: “In Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith… there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”  You are one…in Christ Jesus.

Paul is describing what Jesus is doing right there on the shoreline that day. Jesus was enacting a gospel of no boundaries. He’s wasn’t just healing the man, he was erasing the lines that declared who was holy and who wasn’t, who belonged and who didn’t.

Now here’s the moment that always gets me in this Gospel story: Jesus asks the man, “What is your name?”

And the man replies, “Legion.” Not because it’s his name, but because the demons have taken over his identity. Legion is a word that was used to describe a Roman military unit of 3,000 soldiers.  “Legion” isn’t a name; it’s a number. A label. A loss of self.

How often do we do that to ourselves? Let our worst moments become our identity? “Failure.” “Divorced.” “Addict.” “Angry.” “Not enough.”  How often do we label others?  “Homeless.”  “Lazy.”  “Felon.”  “Refugee.”  “Immigrant.”

But Jesus doesn’t leave this man there. Jesus drives out the demons. And suddenly, this man is clothed, in his right mind, sitting at Jesus’ feet. And he’s given a new purpose. A new name. A new place in the community.

That’s what it looks like to be clothed in Christ, like Paul says. That’s what it means to find your true self, not in your scars, not in your labels, not in your past, but in God’s mercy.

Jesus brings him back into his right mind and back into the community. That’s real healing. Not just inward peace, but restoration of belonging.

Now, you’d think the townspeople would be thrilled, right? The demons are gone. The man is healed. The pigs… well, not so much. But overall, you’d expect a celebration.

Instead? They’re afraid.  They’re afraid of what Jesus can do.  They are afraid of what it might mean for them.  They ask Jesus to leave.

And maybe that makes more sense than we want to admit. Because when Jesus starts tearing down boundaries, things get messy. 

  • People we thought were too far gone are suddenly sitting next to us in the pews. 
  • People we thought we understood, start telling stories that challenge our assumptions. 
  • Systems we built to protect ourselves start to crack open.

When God’s Spirit is on the move, comfort zones get uncomfortable.

But that’s also where the Spirit is most alive. That’s where true freedom begins. That’s what Paul is preaching to the Galatians. That in Christ, we don’t just receive grace, we receive each other.

We are no longer divided by old categories, because Jesus has stepped across every line to bring us together.

At the end of our Gospel story today, the healed man wants to go with Jesus. You can understand why. He wants to follow, to stay close. But Jesus says “no.”  

Jesus gives him a job to do.

“Return to your home,” Jesus says, “and declare how much God has done for you.”

And he does.

This healed man becomes a witness, not with theology degrees or training, but with one story: “This is what Jesus did for me.”  This is what Jesus did for me.

And that’s all Jesus asks of you. To tell your story. 

  • To be the person who says, “I once felt like I didn’t belong, but Christ came for me.” 
  • To be the person who says, “I once thought I had to earn my way in, but God’s grace found me.” Or,
  • To be the person who says, “I once let the world label me, but now I know who I am…I am a child of God, loved beyond measure.”

Friends, you worship a God who crosses every boundary to find you. 

  • Who doesn’t stay on one side of the lake but gets in the boat for you. 
  • Who knows you by name, not by your past. 
  • Who doesn’t just include you but makes you part of the community.  

And that means the healing, inclusive, boundary-breaking love of God is not just for others…it’s for you.

There are no more borders. No more walls. No more “us” and “them.”  As Paul says: You belong to Christ. You are inheritors of the promise.  

And, just like the man Jesus healed, you too have a job to do:  When the world feels broken…when the foundation cracks…you…the church…you are the way God brings healing.  You speak the truth.  You speak with kindness.  And you tell your story: “This is what Jesus did for me.”  That is your job.

And now…go…go and tell your story.  Tell what God has done for you.

Thanks be to God!

Amen.

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