Too close for comfort

I grew up going to church. My mom took me to church when I was a kid, and somewhere late in my teenage years, I began to live a life that was not very interested in the things of God. There were a lot of actions that were ungodly in my life. Yet, I still, being a teenager in my mom's home, had to continue to go to church.

I didn't like going to church. One of the problems that I actually had with church is that it made me feel guilty, and I just didn't like it because I felt guilty. That really was something that just bugged me. I knew this voice in my life telling me that I was not living in line with the way that God wanted me to live, and I didn't want to hear that. I wanted to live my own life, my own way.

So I came up with this ploy. Because I was a lifeguard, I happened to work for a Methodist church that did a summer camp program, a little small church in my town. I'd been there a few times because they had functions where they'd invite the camp staff to come to a service where they'd present them and things like that. I made this ploy to my mom: "Hey, I want to stop going to church with you. I'm a teenager; I drive myself these days. I want to go to this other church. I mean, I work there, so it makes sense for me to be there."

The real reason that I wanted to go to that church was because it didn't make me uncomfortable. It was just an old traditional church. Nothing wrong with traditional churches, but the Spirit of God just wasn't there—at least, I didn't sense it. Everything just seemed rote and religious and dead, and it made me feel okay. I didn't feel convicted.

The whole ploy was that I wanted to leave the discomfort that I was feeling in my mother's church, and I wanted to find comfort with my own kind of life and my own kind of living, so it put some distance between me and God. I wanted to be comfortable living my life, even if it meant removing a God who was making me uncomfortable with my life and my choices.

A Search for Comfort

We all want comfort. We all want the good life. We want to live in such a way that we are happy, that we find contentment, that we find joy and peace and meaning, and we don't want uncomfortable things in our life. But sometimes the things in life that are the best for us can make us uncomfortable.

How do we find the good life? Often, as we're growing up, what we'll do is look at the world around us to find the good life—to find the comfort, the joy, and the meaning that we're looking for. As we look around the world, we find the things that other people look to for those answers. But the problem is that our world is rampant with depression and loneliness and anxiety and all sorts of other things. People are running from one thing to the next, trying to find that same meaning, contentment, and comfort in their life, and they're not finding it. If we're just following what everybody else around us is doing in the world, it's like the blind leading the blind.

So maybe we look within: "What do I need?" We try to listen to that voice deep within our heart. "Follow your heart." But the heart leads us astray; it's not bringing the answer or the contentment that we need. It's really only if we look outside of ourselves to God that we find those things, because some of the best things in this life—the things that are the very best for us—make us uncomfortable.

One of the best things for me in that moment as a teenager would have been to stay with the uncomfortable church and to allow God's voice to correct some things, to rebuke some things in my life. Oh man, I wish I had listened to that voice and allowed it to humble me, to correct me, to change me, to shape me. It would have been the best thing for me.

So it is for all of our lives: the best things sometimes are the things that make us uncomfortable, especially when they are the things of God, because it has a way, like a sponge, of scrubbing against the impurities and the brokenness in our life so that it might heal and clean and restore us.

Jesus is going to disrupt the comfort of a people here in this story in order to bring his liberation and life to the area, or his desire to do so. We're going to take a look at that. Today's scripture reading comes from Matthew chapter 8, verses 28 to 34:

And when he came to the other side, to the country of the Gadarenes, two demon-possessed men met him, coming out of the tombs, so fierce that no one could pass that way. And behold, they cried out, "What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?" Now a herd of many pigs was feeding at some distance from them. And the demons begged him, saying, "If you cast us out, send us into the herd of pigs." And he said to them, "Go." So they came out and went into the pigs, and behold, the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the waters. The herdsmen fled, and going into the city they told everything, especially what had happened to the two demon-possessed men. And behold, all the city came out to meet Jesus, and when they saw him, they begged him to leave their region.

This is God's word.

Today, we're going to be looking at what I call "Too Close for Comfort." Jesus is going to be coming close to the people in this land, and it's going to make pretty much everybody in this passage uncomfortable in some sort of way.

How is Jesus making the people in this passage uncomfortable? Let's walk through what we see in this passage. 

Jesus disrupts people's comfort

The first thing is that Jesus gets out of that boat. He gets out of the boat, and who does he meet? Two demon-possessed men come and approach Jesus and say, "What are you doing here? Why are you here?" They're freaking out. They're filled with all sorts of terror because Jesus showing up on that shore, being the Son of God with all of his power and authority and radiance and might and goodness, spells disaster for demonic forces. They know it's bad fellowship. Light can have no fellowship with darkness, and this Son of Light who has set his feet on the shore terrifies the demons. They know this is not good. This could be the end for them. This is not a battle that they're going to win, and they should not find any sort of peace with an enemy of the satanic and demonic forces of the dark kingdom. Being present there is always going to find discomfort with Jesus.

The demoniac himself—who's not really playing a major role in Matthew's version versus Mark or Luke—comes down himself. We can presume that being possessed by demons, the life that he had lived had led to this spiritual, physical, and demonic bondage in his life. He would not be a person who wanted to hear the voice of God in his life. Maybe somewhat like my teenage self, who did not want to hear the voice of God, the demon-possessed man would be uncomfortable, just like the demons, with the presence of Jesus on that shore, because that spells some sort of change or rebuke or judgment coming into his life, and he's not comfortable with that. This doesn't look like good news.

It's just a reminder that you can live your life in such a way that things get distorted. You can look at evil and think it's okay, maybe even good, and you can look at what's good and begin to see it as evil. If you continue down that trajectory long enough, everything about truth—especially when you live false ways of living—becomes distorted. Your view of life becomes such that you will look at the things of God and say, "This is not good. This looks bad. This looks like evil. This looks like judgment. I have no interest in having God come and speak into my life. I'm uncomfortable with that." So you want to push him and keep him at bay in your life.

Maybe as a side note, this is a good reminder for all of us that in life, you need good voices—good voices speaking truth to you. Because if you're just going your own way, or if you're just looking within the crevices of your own heart to find truth, or if you're looking at the culture around you to find that truth, you're not going to find it. If you're just sitting with yourself, even with truth, you get in this echo chamber, and things can get off over time; your beliefs can get off. Because there are no other voices around you speaking truth, you can even begin to believe lies. You can begin to live lies. You can begin to not allow the Spirit of God to deal with the deep recesses of your heart, and life gets distorted. You need good voices.

Thankfully, God has given us good voices. Number one, he's given us his Word, and there's good life and truth in that. He's given us the body of Christ. You need other believers around you. You need to be in community so that you hear other people doing what the scriptures say: admonishing, bearing one another's burdens, speaking truth. We sing these songs and we're proclaiming truths about God to one another. I stand up here—Derek, Ronnie, we stand up here and proclaim things. We sit in small groups and talk about the truths of God. You need those voices; otherwise, things get off. You never know—over time, you can start to wander, and then that roaring lion known as Satan is just waiting to pounce. Maybe you find yourself, like the demoniac, seeing God not as your friend, not as good, but as an enemy.

The pig farmers certainly also would not have had a good feeling about Jesus being there. He was too close. Obviously, him being close meant that they lost their livelihood; the pigs all perish and die. Lots of ink has been spilled on what the meaning of all that could be. Maybe the big takeaway is just this: God knows what he's doing. He knows that story. Did they have some sort of covert, black-market bacon operation where they fed Jews? I don't know, but whatever it was, God knew, and he was at work, and we just have to trust that.

The townspeople also were not comfortable with this power. They weren't comfortable with Jesus on the shore. They had watched what happened to the pigs. They come out of town and see Jesus right there, and they think, "This is not good. This is not okay." Somehow, they had become so comfortable with the demoniac living out there on the outskirts of town. They'd worked out a comfortable arrangement; they were okay with it. "That's great that you healed him, but the pigs are dead! We don't know about all this power, but it looks suspect."

Rather than investigating it, rather than probing it, they just want it gone. They let fear, or whatever comes over them, keep Jesus at bay in this case, which is the exact opposite of what so many people do. So many people rush out of town to come and investigate Jesus, and they see all this transformation happen. These people don't want that. They want Jesus to leave because he's making them and the situation around them uncomfortable in ways that they don't understand. So instead of inquiring, they just send him away.

Why is it uncomfortable?

The second thing that we want to look at here is: Why is it uncomfortable to them? Why are they really uncomfortable deep down about all this? I actually want to look at the demons. What is it? There seems to be an obviousness about it, but I just want to poke at this for a second: Why would the demoniac and the demons feel so uncomfortable?

The demons are the ones that do the speaking here. Ultimately, what makes them uncomfortable is that the kingdom has come, and it means the end of thrones and dominions. The kingdom of God has dawned in this time and in this place through the birth and now ministry of Jesus, and it will mean the end of thrones and dominions. The demons here recognize something is up. They turn and say, "What have you to do with us? What have you to do with us? Have you come here to torment us before the time?" They're starting to ask, "Why are you here? Are you here for us?"

One of the things is, Jesus isn't really here for them. Now, he deals with the enemy and with the darkness, but the big thing that he's after, the reason he came to that shore, is for the man. It's for the demoniac. It's for this person, because that is what God is ultimately about. He's in an operation of rescue. Yeah, it means defeating the enemy and the demonic forces, but God's love is driving him always to the people—to his people, to seeking and saving that which is lost. Across the shore of this lake in Israel is a man who has suffered and been in bondage a long time, and it is time for the light of God, the deliverance of God, the salvation of God to come. He's come for this man.

It's just a reminder in that same way: I hope you can see the heart of God in this—his desire to step even into uncomfortable places that maybe even we would be uncomfortable with, to bring light, to bring salvation. Maybe one of the calls as a side note for us would be the willingness to come into the dark and uncomfortable places of people's lives just with love, just with God's love, just with relationship, just with light, and to let the Spirit of God direct us gently and wisely, if we'll just be willing to be open that way.

Another thing they say is, "Why are you here before the time?" It's not that Jesus showed up on the shore and they're just confused, thinking, "I thought you were going to stay on that side of the lake." Bible commentators look at that and say no, there's a sense of: "The time is out there, and yet you are here." The demons understand that there is a day of the Lord, a coming day, and somehow they know it's before that appointed time. The Old Testament taught that there's a day when God will come with his salvation, but also his judgment, and it will mean the end of all things for demonic and satanic forces. But that's then; you are here now.

One of the great mysteries of God is at work right now in this place, because what they didn't see, and probably what they didn't seem to understand, is that if God just came once, we're all doomed. There will be no salvation, just judgment. So God came early. He showed up early. He came in the form of a baby. Why? For the plan of salvation to come, to create a pathway that by grace through faith, you could find redemption and forgiveness and deliverance. Through the ministry of Jesus coming early, the kingdom of God begins to dawn here on earth. He begins to heal; he begins to cast out demons. He's giving everyone a glimpse into what that day will look like. It's not here fully yet, but it is here in a small, now sense. It's "now and not yet."

Jesus's ministry is confounding in some ways to these demons. "What are you doing here now in this place? Have you come early or something? Did you not check the time?" This is the salvation of God coming to create a pathway that we could not see, that they couldn't see. It means the end has already come for them. It's not then that it's going to end; it's already coming now. Already, through the ministry of Jesus and through the ministry of the church, person by person, where the gospel is preached, where people are prayed for, where bondage is broken, where marriages are restored, where people with addictions like my own life are freed, the kingdom of God penetrates those places. Salvation takes its reign. God takes his reign in those places. Hearts turn to him, their thrones are laid down, and the enemy's grip on this world begins to loosen. That's what's happening now in this place.

Why are they completely afraid? Because it caught them by surprise. Jesus is here in a way: Has he come before the time to torment us, to end our reign of tyranny? Yes! And it should make them very, very uncomfortable.

Do you see the gospel here? Do you see the good news—that judgment awaited the world, but God came early, and he's loosening the grip of the kingdom of darkness, destroying the work of sin and the devil here now? We're getting a peak into it—a peak throughout the ministry of Jesus of that coming day. We can't even imagine the fullness of when it comes in its perfect and full form, but it is good. We should want the nearness of Jesus in our lives, not be uncomfortable when he steps near.

The town also sees Jesus as a threat. They don't want him there. Why would they not want Jesus here? I mean, he did this great, amazing miracle. He showed his power over something that they could not restrain. They could not restrain the man; Jesus did more than restrain the man—he completely changed him. He set him free. Man, isn't that the beauty of the gospel, where it can reach into somebody's life—we've all seen it, maybe you've even experienced it in your life: "I'm not interested in God," until you are! The power of God to change hearts like that, the power here in this place... why would that make them uncomfortable?

I think it spells that for their own lives. Maybe something about how they are so comfortable in their own life and with the way that things are working, that whatever Jesus is doing, it is disrupting the flow and the norm of whatever they have become comfortable with, and that messes with them. That may mean even for them, like the demonic forces, the end of the throne of comfort in their own lives, their own way of living, whatever they are comfortable with—because they know whatever this means, it means, "I'm going to have to listen to it and bow to it. It may change me. It may shape me." Whatever it is, "I'm uncomfortable with it."

So it is. If you think about this, we do this in our own life. We can be so comfortable. The money's good, the kids are fine, marriage is okay, everything's all right, we're happy, we're comfortable... "And I don't need God. I don't need him. I'm fine." Then what happens? Marriage gets rocky, you lose that job, there's maybe some depression going on in life, whatever it is. What do we do? We start looking for answers. People look around, and some people look for God. They look for spiritual answers to these things, and they come to God: "I need a fix. I need some help, right? I'm going to start going to church, and I'm going to start praying. Come on, God!" They find that deliverance in their life. God begins to change and heal and restore.

But God's never a "one and done." He moves closer, because the cancer of sin in our life is deep down and integrated into our core. As he moves closer and asks us to lay the idols down, to give things up, to surrender, at some point we go, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're getting too close! I liked the healing, I appreciate that, but I don't need all this, though. This is messing with my throne, my comfort, my way of living. I just want the healing, but don't get too close. Don't get too personal."

So what we do is wind up retaining our own throne—our own sort of little mini-throne. "Yeah, I'm giving God his thing, and he's got his throne and I bow to it, but I still have a little bit of a throne in my own life that I don't want to submit." That's the thing that we can often do: we can become so comfortable with God and his power, we just don't want him too close, and we will begin to reject that, because the power of the kingdom rearranges your life.

What is lost?

So what do these people lose? What do they lose in turning Jesus away? I thought about that this week, and one of the big things that we can just gloss over so quickly: the demons get it. They understand the Son of God of the universe, salvation, the Author of life, the Great I Am has set his feet on our shore. That's why the demons are terrified! It's unfortunate that the townspeople cannot recognize who he is. This is one who has power over demonic forces. This is the one who is good. If you could drive out demonic forces, you're the Author of life and light. There's something good, not something evil, about this guy.

They don't even investigate. They don't come to ask or to hear his words. They're just fearful. They've already presumed things: "Maybe judgment's coming. Maybe change is coming. Whatever it is, I don't know, I'm afraid of it, and I don't want to even investigate it. I just want it gone." And they miss out. They miss out!

How often in our life can we fail to recognize Jesus, the Author of life, as he comes close in? We can sort of distort that view as he comes and begins to ask us to lay things down, and go, "Wait a minute..." We forget who he is. He's good. He knows what's best. And we go, "You don't know what's best. I know what's best. I don't want to give that up. I'm comfortable with this. It's hard. It's too hard. You're asking for too much of me." You've forgotten who he is. He deserves everything being handed over to him.

The thing is, if we will trust him, if we will see him for who he really is, then maybe we would just have enough trust in our own hearts and lives when he convicts to let go of those things, instead of rationalizing it, or filling our life with so much busyness, or distracting ourselves with different things so that we don't hear his voice. Maybe we just need to create pockets—there's no "maybe," we need to create space in our life to allow the Spirit of God to probe, to speak to us, to deal with us. Because somewhere deep in there, there are things that he wants to deal with.

If we don't, we don't know who we've rejected. He has good plans for you. He wants to work good. He's not for your demise or your destruction, but for your deliverance. Will you trust Jesus in this?

The sad thing here is, what do we see? They turn Jesus away. What do they miss? What happens when Jesus shows up in regions and places in different places in his ministry? Think about it: the forgiveness of sin. "Son, your sins are forgiven." The eyes of the blind opened. The lame get up and walk. Think about the tears of joy that took place on the shores of different places where Jesus showed up and began to minister. Think about the people who were delivered from sin and bondage and demonic oppression like these two men, and the joy that they felt!

This town doesn't experience any of that. They miss it. It's one of the most anticlimactic stories ever. Here's Jesus with all of his power, great salvation—here it's come, it dawns upon the kingdom and it dawns upon this land, and we just tell him to go away. "We're not comfortable with him here." These people miss Jesus. They want to be left alone, so God leaves them alone, because he doesn't force his way into our life. He asks, he steps in, he moves our heart, he convicts, and then we need to decide: Am I going to keep letting him in, or am I going to keep him at bay?

The people thought in this passage that by sending Jesus away, they were protecting their lives, preserving something—their own comfort. But they really actually wound up sending him away to their own detriment. What a loss.

Conclusion

So where does that leave us? Where does that leave us as we consider this passage and the people that were uncomfortable with Jesus, and so they didn't let him get close?

If Jesus shows up on the shore of your life and he begins to probe, will you allow him? Like I said, there are so many places in our heart—these crevices and areas. If you ever think you've arrived, you've handed over enough to God, you'll let him deal with enough, you're good enough, you're sanctified enough, you're holy enough, you've got it down—you believe a lie. Your heart is always prone to idols. There are pockets of pride or greed or lust or all sorts of ways of false thinking that are wired deep within our nature.

So Jesus will come into those crevices and cracks in your life and he'll say, "Will you let me be Lord here? Will you surrender that here? I have the right."

Now, we all know this: "I don't want to lay that down. You don't know what they did to me. I don't want to give that up. They deserve this! You don't know how much I've already done, Jesus, come on!" So often we begin to put Jesus at bay. But for our good and our healing, he wants to step in closer because he's a personal God, because he loves you. He loves us.

If you can really see Jesus for who he is—your healer, your deliverer, the Author of life—if you can really trust that and allow, "Okay, I'm going to give it up," it's actually going to birth the most good. Hasn't it already? Every time you've laid down some facade or some sin or some rebellion in your heart, hasn't it always led to more life, more experience of his presence? Because that's the goal: to experience the fullness of joy in him, to glorify him, to live our lives in alignment with him. You can't do that if you keep setting up thrones that blockade him from coming close into your life.

So when he shows up on the shore, when he starts to come inland into your heart, will you allow him to come in? Or will that uncomfortableness—that meaning that you have to lay your own throne down—make you reject him?

God is working to make you into a masterpiece—his masterpiece. He wants you to experience all of the good things that he has for you, all the plans. He's got to remodel us, and we don't always like the change, the correction, the adjustments, the reforming and renewing of our life, but he's sculpting something. The question is: Will we turn him away, or will we let him in?

The people in this story didn't reject Jesus because he lacked power—they recognized that. They rejected him because his power was getting too close to the things that they did not want to change. So they sent away more than what they knew, and it's a shame. Will the same be true of you and I?

Maybe just a second as we pray here at the end, as we close—I talked about space. I talked about creating space. It can't happen just here on a Sunday morning; you've got to create that space. But maybe just for a moment, let me pray together. I'm going to give you just a second. Just take inventory. Just allow the Spirit of God to probe your heart. Just ask him, "Lord, is there something?" and allow the Spirit to talk. Let me just take a second and go before the Lord.