THOUGHTS OF A MONK
“Presence”
July 2006
I don’t know how many of you may have had the opportunity to meet Metropolitan Anthony Bloom but back when I lived in London in the mid-1970s I used to attend Divine Liturgy at Ennismore Gardens. This was the location of the church where Metropolitan Anthony served. Being in that place and participating in the liturgy there was a special experience. When he entered the church, you knew he was there, you could feel his presence. But that was the case no matter where he was. When he entered a room, everything changed. Some of you may have had similar experiences with other individuals. You are in a room with a group of people, and you become aware that a special person has entered the room. They do not have to say a word, but you know they are there, by their very presence. This is not like the President of the United States entering Congress for a speech, with trumpets blaring and the Sergeant-at-Arms declaiming his arrival, twice, just so you don’t miss it. I’m talking about a situation without fanfare.
In this Gospel passage when Christ enters Gadara he doesn’t have to speak for his presence to be felt. Jesus doesn’t come to this place and call out the demons. His challenge to them isn’t verbal. He doesn’t assemble the townspeople and tell them what they should or should not do. He doesn’t tell any of the characters in this scene anything. The only word he speaks is in reply to the demons request to be sent into the pigs. And to this he simply says: “Go!” The demons know what they are facing. It is a power they prefer to reject, even though it leads to their own demise. The townspeople know what they are encountering and they want no part of it. They prefer to be cut off from God rather than to face the truth that will require them to really change.
The Evangelist Matthew is creating in this passage a scene that serves many purposes, but especially points to the power of God’s presence, here as manifested in Jesus Christ. The passage just before this one is the scene where Jesus is in the boat on the lake with his disciples and he calms the waters. So Matthew is showing us that the power of Christ extends even to affecting nature. In the encounter with the demoniacs, the same power is on display, but it comes in the presence of evil. And the evil St. Matthew depicts is drawn from symbols that were very owerful to his readers at that time. The Jews considered pigs unclean and those who tended pigs were seen as being engaged in an enterprise that promoted evil. The demons requesting to go into the pigs bring on their own doom, since the ultimate end of evil, which is breaking connection with God, is death. They choose death, and they choose an evil vehicle. Symbols of evil in today’s society can replace the symbols that Matthew depicted. Each one of us may choose a different collection of symbols to portray evil: The evil might be drugs and the dealers are like the herdsmen tending the pigs; it could be pornography and its purveyors; or the demons tormenting a person who engages in child abuse, or businesses that act in ways devoid of any social conscience. Whatever the image, St. Matthew’s point still applies.
Erasmos Leiva-Merikakis in a meditation on this passage puts it beautifully: “You have come here before the time to torment us.” How painful the approach of the physician and his science is to the disease! What were a balm and a consolation to the leper, the paralytic, the feverish, the storm-struck, is a torment to the demons. All hope is lost when we make our sin, our rejection of God, our despair itself, to be more truly our identity than our nature as good creatures and children of the Creator. Our perversity pushes us to substitute our inmost identity, to put in its place rebellion and bitterness, so that these become our very skin and the marrow of our bones. The envious are tormented by the sight of generosity. The violent are tormented by a face radiating peace. The desolate are enraged by fellowship, and the ignorant by the presence of wisdom. In the same way, the demons are tormented by Jesus’ approach. The centurion’s servant, too, was being tormented by his paralysis; but this was recognized as an evil to seek help against. His boy’s torment was the cause that made the centurion seek Jesus’ healing intervention. But these demons, having made evil the cause of their very being, find their torment in the Healer.”
So the demons know when they are in the presence of God, do we? Our prayer and meditation are efforts to help us learn what being in the presence of God feels like. To take the time to cultivate that awareness is at the heart of meditation. But we are given other aids as well. Entering this Temple also brings us into a place that is designed to create a space that manifests the presence of God. The icons on the upper walls are of individuals who show us that it is possible to live a life that has been touched by the presence of God and through them the presence of God is transmitted to others. The Altar is where a sacred act takes place and creates for us something tangible of the presence of God that we can actually bring into our very being. The beauty of this place is designed to give us a glimpse of what being in God’s presence is like. This human creation praises God’s larger creation, which is a manifestation of God’s presence all around us.
So we are challenged by this Gospel passage to try to live as if we really can feel the presence of God and embrace that feeling. Let us not flee God’s healing presence. Let us welcome it when we say: Christ is in our midst.
Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word, by Erasmos Leiva-Merikakis, p. 383
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