0202 SAVING SHORTY

SAVING SHORTY

And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit

~Mark 5:1-2

IT SEEMS THE SON OF GOD was exceptionally—well—average in most every way. Except for His exceptional grasp of the Scriptures, of course. That, and the game of chess, of all things. 

Chess is a game of strategy, in which a player must see several moves ahead, take calculated risks, and follow a flexible long-term strategy. It requires discipline, concentration and patience, and Jesus had those qualities in abundance. 

Jesus brought us all the way across Lake Gal’lee one day, in order to witness a rather odd confrontation in the spiritual realm—a game of chess with the devil himself.

Chess is a game for kings, not for fishermen. So I don’t know much about it. But this I learned from watching Jesus, and it is perhaps the most basic lesson in chess: you’ve got to know the difference between a pawn and a king. Always sacrifice the little old pawn to keep the big old king. As I see it, in chess, the taller the better. If it’s short, you can give it up.

We had set sail from Capernaum and Jesus pointed us southeast, toward the uninhabited region of The Bluff of Gadera. The bluff was like a wall of sandstone and shale rising up from the water, pockmarked with caves that were used as tombs. Clearly, we were not there to have a picnic. 

As we approach the shore, it seems the only sign of life here is a large herd of pigs on top of the bluff. You’ve heard of pigs. There’s a pig pig here and a pig pig there. Here a pig . . . You know. And not a single one is kosher.

As we anchor just off shore and begin to wade to the narrow rocky beach, we all hear an eery howl from up on that bluff somewhere. Whatever is making that sound sure doesn’t sound human, and definitely doesn’t sound safe. Jesus hears it, too, but He doesn’t even slow down. It’s almost like He is coming in answer to the call. 

Then we see the source of the sound. A creepy wild man comes screaming down the hill, running right at the Lord with a crazed look in his eyes. He lives there among the tombs, which of course makes him unclean from the start. 

So between the graves and the pigs and this man screaming toward us, we’re all getting a collective case of the Jewish heebie-jeebies here. But the Lord doesn’t even flinch, and walks toward the man, unafraid of getting spiritual cooties.

So the chess board seems to be set and the first moves made. Jesus and twelve followers on one side, and this man and a mess of pigs on the other. It seems the devil has made the first move, leading with this curious feller.

I look him over. Short guy. Definite Pawn material. Very poor personal hygiene, if I can say so. 

He howls at the moon and cuts himself with rocks. Eats by raiding the herd of pigs, killing and eating whatever parts of a hog seem edible. The man is practically naked, has iron shackles around his ankles and wrists, with broken chains jangling from them—remnants of the many attempts to control him. Clearly, the man does not keep his curfew, and not even a gang can take him on. 

The man’s charging toward Jesus with a human leg bone as a club in his hand. He has incredibly intense eyes that seem to show insanity, or worse.

Then I realize what the man is actually screaming about. He’s pleading for mercy! Somehow he had known, even from a distance, that Jesus had come to deal with the demons in him. He falls before the Master and screams, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to torture us before our appointed time?”

There are things a demon-filled man is not as aware of as an ordinary man might be. Time of day. Physical comfort. Kosher food products. To name a few. And yet, supernatural revelation isn’t something that only belongs to God. Demons know the end game. They know who is going to win, though they might not know quite when or how it will happen. 

When the man gets close to Jesus, he drops the shin bone and drops to his knees. Pleads for mercy, calling the Lord, “Jesus of Nazareth!” The demons know Him as “Jesus of Nazareth.” And they tremble. 

And so the game unfolds, one move at a time. Which strikes me as odd, because we have seen Jesus heal hundreds of people and cast out demons before. Quick and easy: Tell them to be gone, and off they go to—wherever demons run to. It don’t matter. He sets people free. End of game. Checkmate Jesus.

But this man is a special case—as they all are, it turns out. 

I’m confused by this game He’s playing. Jesus takes an hour or more identifying each of those demons by name, and somehow allowing them to negotiate terms for this man’s release. 

Boomer Jim and me are about to have a demonic attack of our own if Jesus don’t send down some fire and brimstone on this bad guy pretty quick. What is going on here? Is Jesus even having mercy on demons now? 

If this is a chess match, it seems like Jesus has already given up a lot of ground in order to save this one unkempt pawn here. I’m thinking the devil’s smiling just a might. This match is going his way. 

At last, the legion of demons looks around for some place local where they can all hide out for a while. They spy the herd of pigs on the ridge. "send us into the pigs,” they beg. 

Jesus agrees, and then He gives a one-word command: "Go!” They-all leave the man—they had no choice but to obey—and they enter the pigs. The man is free for the first time in whenever. We can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. There is peace and sanity at last. Jesus smiles. 

He’d done saved Shorty.