It was bitterly cold last week in Kentucky, as it was over much of the US. Over coffee after mass, a friend talked about how he didn’t get out of the house on one of the coldest days—until he heard a plea on TV from the local Catholic Action Center.
The folks there work daily with Lexington’s homeless population. On Wednesday they put out pleas for sleeping bags, blankets, and other warm, soft things to help with the extra homeless they expected to go out and round up from parking garages, abandoned buildings, and other places around town to bring them to the Center, at least for a day or two, while temperatures were subzero.
Roger had been a Boy Scout leader for many years and still had some winter sleeping bags in his house. He knew he wasn’t going camping in winter again, so he took them to where others could have them.
Jesus and the Wild Man
That scene comes to mind as I read today’s Gospel. It is the story of the wild man of the land of the Gerasenes. Scripture says he “had an unclean spirit.” His behavior represented the behavior of someone whom today we would name as “severely mentally ill.” He could be so strong, chains couldn’t bind him. He lived among the tombs, crying out and running about, often without any clothes on.
When he saw Jesus, he cried out to him,
Catching sight of
Jesus from a distance,
he ran up and prostrated himself before him,
crying out in a loud voice,
“What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?
I adjure you by God, do not torment me!”
(He had been saying to him, “Unclean spirit, come out of the man!”)
Jesus had to name the unclean spirit in order to cast him out. “What is your name?” Jesus asked. The voice of the man replied, “Legion is my name. There are many of us.”
Jesus cast out the spirits—who entered some nearby swine, who jumped off the cliff into the lake and drowned.
What Does That Mean to Us?
There are many ways we could explore this Scripture through prayer. There are many questions the text does not answer: Were these wild hogs or someone’s herd? Was this mental illness or demonic oppression or possession? Why did Jesus’ healing the man frighten the local people?
Because of Roger and his conversation about sleeping bags, prayer takes me to consider how I might respond to this man. Research shows that in the US, about 1/3 of those who are chronically homeless are mentally ill, about 1/3 are of low functioning intelligence, and about 1/3 are chemically dependent. Some fit two of those characteristics. Some fit all three. In the mix of homeless in our communities, there are also some who have hit a temporary rough place in life—with work, bills, or, most often, paramour or family. There are a few who simply prefer to live a vagabond life. But many are similar to the man Jesus healed today.
They have behavior which is troublesome to live with, so people send them on their way. They learn to survive in the parking garages, shelters, and under the bridges of our communities. Sadly, many would be fine if they would take medication, stay sober, or if family had the resources to care for them.
Years ago, they were held in long-term hospitals or institutes. Today, in the US, resources are often available to them, but their mental state and subsequent behavior make them outcasts.
Every community has them.
How do you respond? How do I?
There is something I especially noticed in this reading today: Jesus had to try TWICE to help the man. The unclean spirit didn’t come out of him just because Jesus told it to.
The Catholic Action Center in Lexington and various other resources provide for the homeless—but the homeless are not always able to follow through to use them. I have run a shelter, many years ago, and I know this to be true. Shelters and programs have to have rules for all the common good reasons. People like the demoniac have trouble living by those rules—often because of their illness. So out on the street they go.
But, just as the folks at the Catholic Action Center went to places where homeless are known to spend the night outside the community eye, Jesus made the second effort: he called the demons inside the man by name and sent them elsewhere.
The place reflection and prayer lead me today is: how do I respond to the need? Do I believe that I can do something for a person who is seriously mentally ill—or oppressed by evil—or just ordinary homeless on the street? Do I believe I have any responsibility for him? Do I make a second effort? Roger didn’t make any major sacrifices—but two people slept warmer because of what he did. Join his offering with the Catholic Action folks out combing the streets…and the police on the lookout…and nobody may have done a lot, but some people might be alive today because of the small second efforts of several people.
Ah, that piece of prayer reminds me: My work now is with the Carebound. Well, how much attention do I give to someone who tells me the same story EVERY week? Do I try every way I can to engage those I visit in sensory, practical ways that work for them? How much effort do I make? How can I make a second effort with those who don’t respond much to my first effort?
Questions to ponder and talk to Jesus about.
Prayer:
Lord, help me today and this week to be fully attentive to those I dismiss at times: my Carebound who make minimal conversation. Help me to make a second effort to engage them. Help me to take to heart what I heard on Saturday: when Jesus washed the feet of the disciples—in the middle of the first Eucharist—he made a commitment without compromise to do what it takes to bring each and every one of us into salvation. Lord, I don’t know how you might be depending on me to do that work for you, so keep me open to make second efforts within my little corner of the world with any and all who are the least, the lost, or the last.
