The Demoniacs of Gadara
S. Mark v. 1–10
The night was closing in, when our Lord landed on the eastern shore of the lake. He had embarked with the disciples in the afternoon, when the sun began to decline at “the first 1 eventide,” but the journey across, usually occupying two or three hours, had been much prolonged by the storm which they encountered: and it must have been late when they came to land. It adds considerably to the weird character of the scene to realise this. The solitude of the coast, the bleak barren rocks, scarred and fissured with gloomy caverns, the wild shrieks of “the possessed,” were sufficient of themselves to inspire one with a sense of awe, but it would be greatly intensified by the gathering darkness, and all the more as the light of the moon shone out upon the landscape.
It lends a peculiar interest to the story that, after years of dispute, the locality has been incontestably identified by the discovery of the ruins of the town of Khersa, exactly opposite to Capernaum, and close to the shore. Two of the most accurate writers on the Holy Land have described “the steep bluff and perpendicular declivity” which overhangs the lake at this spot, and satisfies most closely the requirements of the miracle.
As our Lord stepped out of the boat He was met immediately by a demoniac 2 coming out of the tombs with which the mountain abounded, and of which so many traces still remain.
It would appear that it was a most aggravated case of “possession,” and as such was doubtless selected by three Evangelists for especial notice.
S. Mark, as usual, is very vivid in his description, but something is added to it by the other two. From a combination of all we gather the following results.
He wore no clothes; he filled the air with his ravings; he was driven by a suicidal mania to cut himself with stones; he was the terror of the neighbourhood; every effort to bind him had failed, for he was endowed with prodigious strength, and burst his chains; he made his dwelling-place in the tombs, and he was possessed by a legion of evil spirits. It is impossible to conceive of a worthier claimant for the Divine compassion.
1 This is probably the modern equivalent of the ancient Gergesa, which Origen says was the scene of the miracle. Gadara, the modern Umkeis, is distant one mile and a half from the lake, and separated from it by a river, which sets it aside as impossible.
2 S. Luke agrees with S. Mark in mentioning one demoniac. S. Matthew speaks of two. It is possible that one was much better known than the other, and the fame of his cure would be spread abroad and stress laid upon it. — S. Aug. de Consens. Evang. ii. 24. S. Matthew, having been an eye-witness, remembered the fact that he was accompanied by a second. There is no contradiction,” aui plura dicit pauciora complectitur; qui pauciora dicit, plura non negat.”
3 The case of “possession” has been rendered especially difficult from the modern way of speaking of “the possessed of devils,” unfortunately perpetuated in the Revised Version. There is only one “devil.” He is spoken of many times in the New Testament, but never in the plural. The demons by whom men were “possessed” were evil spirits, his emissaries or “angels.”
Edersheim, in an appendix on this subject, sums up thus:” Greater contrast could scarcely be conceived than between what we read in the New
No sooner did he see Jesus in the distance than he recognised Him, the spirit that possessed him at once acknowledging the dreaded Presence of Him Who came to trample upon the powers of evil. And he did homage to Him, and addressed Him by a title of exceeding dignity, used only once elsewhere, in the prediction of His birth by the angel.
It is said that the title “Most High God” was the one commonly adopted in the formula of exorcism, and possibly the demoniac was prompted to use it, as that with which he was most familiar, from its frequent invocation over himself. With an earnest adjuration he begged that he might not be tormented. This he did, seeing that Jesus was about to cast him out, not, as the Authorised Version renders it, “for He said to him” — but “for He was on the point of saying to him,” — “Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit.” Had the word of authority once been uttered, it would have been too late to interpose, for when Jesus spake, it was done.
Then followed the question of his name, and that mysterious answer — “Legion, for we are many.” The man had seen, perhaps, the resistless might of the Imperial forces of Rome as they swept down all opposition, and it seemed to him the fittest symbol of the power which had taken him captive ;. or it may be from the double consciousness, which is so marked through-Testament and the views and practices mentioned in Rabbinic writings.” It is often said that our Lord adopted the Jewish way of speaking, and treated mental and physical diseases as though they were demoniacal possessions, and the modern usage of the term “lunatic” is quoted as a parallel. But there is the widest difference between them. Cf. Trench, Miracles, 153. “Possession,” it is true, was often accompanied by disease or infirmity, but often also distinguished from them. — S. Mark i. 33, xvii. 17, 18; S. Luke vi. 17, 18. The demons speak with more than human knowledge. — S. Mark i. 24; S. Matt viii. 29. There is, moreover, a double consciousness in the possessed which is inexplicable save by an objective possession. Is it possible that our Lord could have so far yielded to popular prejudice as to embrace it in His commission to the Apostles (S. Matt. x. 8), and to make it a matter of thanksgiving to God when they reported their success? Cf. Edersheim, i. 480. Archdeacon Farrar’s theory that “any mental aberration, sudden sickness, melancholy tendencies,” and the like, were regarded as due to the direct influence of “demons” (Life of Christ, i. 236), can hardly be accepted, if the above writer has correctly interpreted the opinions of his nation. He concludes that there is no midway between rejecting the accounts of dispossession as purely mythical, or believing that there was a demonised state different from disease or madness. out, that it was the spirit within him that answered, and that he hoped by such an exaggerated estimate of his force, to overawe and terrify his Adversary.
“And he besought Him that He would not send them away out of the country.” S. Luke has preserved a more definite expression, which is full of suggestiveness — “that He would not command them to go out into the deep.” It was not the Galilean lake which lay before them, but “the abyss,” “the bottomless pit,” as S. John calls it, into which the devil and his angels will be consigned l when their present liberty “to go to and fro on the earth” is taken away, and the final sentence passed upon them.
The sequel must remain for future consideration. We notice now some thoughts arising out of the narrative as far as it has proceeded.
The first touches the mode of treatment which the demoniac received at the hands of his fellow-creatures. Here is a man afflicted with the most terrible evil one can possibly imagine, abandoned to his cruel fate, with nothing done, no step taken in any direction, to mitigate his condition, but everything almost purposely contrived to aggravate its misery. He is driven from the haunts of men into a bleak barren region, to seek shelter from wind and rain and cold, in caverns where the dead lie buried; he is chained from time to time to the rocks, but only with the supernatural strength that belongs to frenzy and madness, to regain his freedom. Forsaken by every human being, he roams about by night and by day, not only to the terror of others, but cutting and maiming himself among the rocks and stones.
We have but to dwell upon such a picture of inhuman neglect as this, and then contrast it with the treatment such a deplorable case would have received in our own generation; and in realising this, we may well be thankful for the change which Christianity has effected alike in the estimate and the alleviation of suffering.
But not only do we note the neglect of the demoniac; we go further, and say that it was a case which of all others deserved the greatest sympathy and consideration. He was not, as far as we are able to judge, one who had brought that terrible evil upon himself. A distinguished writer says, “We should find ourselves altogether upon a wrong track did we conceive of the demoniacs as the worst of men, and their possession as the plague and penalty of a wickedness in which they had greatly exceeded others. Rather we must esteem the demoniac as the unhappiest, but not of necessity one of the guiltiest of our race.” There is indeed the widest gulf between the condition of the traitor Judas whom Satan entered when he committed an act of unparalleled baseness, and that of the demoniac boy at the foot of the Transfiguration Mount, who had not only been afflicted with epilepsy from childhood, but, according to Christ’s own words, was possessed by “an unclean spirit.”
But the question has often been asked, If demoniacal possession was something distinct from disease, mental or corporal, how are we to explain the fact that it is no longer existent? We do not stay to dispute the supposition that the phenomenon has disappeared, further than to observe that in the East, especially in India, the advent of the Gospel is said to be not infrequently signalised by manifestations of Satanic agency not far removed in character from that under consideration.
It has, however, been proved that epidemics, both moral and physical, have appeared “at certain epochs, specially fitted for their generation, have gradually declined, and totally disappeared in others less congenial to them.” Now the days of the Messiah were pre-eminently exceptional. To the powers of evil it was a most momentous crisis, and it was to be expected that they would be strained to the utmost to counteract opposing influences from which they had so much to fear.
Demoniacal possession was, so to speak, their death-struggle, the last convulsive spasm of an expiring force in the conflict with Him Who came into the world for the avowed purpose of planting His heel upon their prince’s neck, and treading the powers of evil under His feet.
Note: The first evening was when the sun began to set, about three p.m.; the second when it actually went down, about six p.m. The Paschal lamb was slain “between the evenings.”
Note: Possibly it signified also that the evil spirits were banded together under officers in regular organisations, like the forces of an army.
Note: Milton helped very largely to propagate the erroneous belief that the devil and the evil spirits are already in hell, in the place of torments. Cf. Paradise Lost, ii. 115-120; iii. 200-210.