Ending Isolation
There’s a passage in chapter 5 of Mark’s Gospel that stands out as a striking example of Christ’s power over the demonic. The scene is set quite vividly: Jesus and His companions are travelling across the sea, and arrive onshore amongst tombs in the land of the Gerasenes, where a particular Gerasene man--possessed by a demon--has roamed.
This man’s possession was a deep one: the Gospel says, “The man had been dwelling among the tombs, and no one could restrain him any longer, even with a chain. In fact, he had frequently been bound with shackles and chains, but the chains had been pulled apart by him and the shackles smashed, and no one was strong enough to subdue him” (Mark 5:3-4, NABRE). The problem had become so massive that everyone recognized him as beyond help, and sent him out among the tombs.
Alone.
When this man, this demoniac, this reject catches sight of Jesus, though, something immediately changes. Imagine it--Jesus’ foot literally hits the shore, and evil notices. Scripture says, “Catching sight of Jesus from a distance, he ran up and prostrated himself before him…” (Mark 5:6). Jesus sends the demon--who we discover was actually “demons,”--packing, casting them into a herd of swine nearby.
And then afterward, we hear about the Gerasene, “sitting there clothed and in his right mind” (Mark 5:15). While the exorcism grabs our immediate attention, what has always struck me deeply about this passage was the fact that while shackles and chains couldn’t keep this man bound, isolation could. He was cast out, driven away out of fear, and left to spend his days among those already dead. And, he wasn’t free until he approached Jesus, ending the isolation that had kept him bound to this evil spirit.
Evil thrives in isolation. It thrives when it keeps us among tombs and away from life, from relationship, from community. One of the things I see most in our small groups, hear from women who are struggling with addiction, or know from my own experience is how painfully, irrevocably isolating this battle is. The taboo nature of the topic, combined with the lack of resources, piled on top of an already existing and deep shame over our sin keeps us alone. How many different ways has the lie that “you are alone” been told to us? Women don’t struggle, not with that. There’s nothing that can help. This lie is exactly how the enemy keeps us trapped. We need others, and we need Jesus.
And when we try our own version of shackles and chains and nothing seems to keep this addiction down, we think we deserve to be among the tombs--that it must be the only place for us. Isolation feels like our fault, our destiny. But it is not good for man to be alone. Jesus shows us that in Mark’s Gospel. He approaches the reject, the demoniac who was driven away from the community, who probably thought the tombs were his destiny--where he cried out day and night in anguish and despair, Scripture tells us. Jesus sets foot on the shore of our isolated hearts and tells--no, commands--the evil that has kept us isolated to leave us at once.
But sister, you have to respond. You have to lay yourself prostrate at His feet. He’s set foot on the shore of you, so run to Him. He has the power to release the grip on you that’s been there for too long, to free you from this overwhelming enemy that seems undefeatable. It is defeatable, if you step out of the tombs and run to Him on that shore. Do it in prayer. Do it in the sacrament of Reconciliation. Do it by sending that text to your Magdala small group asking for help, even though isolation is telling you to stay among the tombs because it’s where you belong, right? Wrong.
When we step out to meet Him, throwing ourselves at His feet, evil knows it's lost. It flees. In the face of surrender to love, community, connection and even the tiniest “no” to isolation--despite all the lies we’ve heard--it doesn’t stand a chance.