St. Mark tells us that when Jesus crossed the Sea of Galilee and entered the country of the Gerasenes, a man possessed by unclean spirits came running toward him. The man lived in misery, divided against himself and deprived of the freedom proper to a human person. No one had been able to restrain him, but before Christ the demons recognized a power greater than their own. Speaking through the man, they cried out, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” They knew that the arrival of the Messiah meant the destruction of their dominion.
The Gospels repeatedly show Our Lord entering people’s lives in order to free them from whatever enslaves and degrades them. St. Peter would later summarize the public ministry of Jesus by saying that he “went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil.” Christ does not come to diminish human life but to restore it. He releases people from sin, heals their wounds and gives them back the interior unity that evil has destroyed. His redemptive power is revealed with particular force in the liberation of this unfortunate man.
When Jesus commanded the unclean spirits to depart, they begged to be allowed to enter a large herd of swine feeding nearby. He permitted them to do so, and the animals rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned. St. Mark tells us that the herd numbered about two thousand. The loss must have been considerable, but the contrast at the heart of the scene is unmistakable: a large amount of property had been lost, while a human being had been restored to freedom.
The man who had been violent, tormented and divided now sat beside Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. To Christ, one human person was worth far more than the entire herd. Indeed, every person is worth more than all the wealth and wonders of the material world, because each has been created in the image of God and called to eternal life. The destruction of the swine may help us understand, however faintly, that the redemption of a person can demand a real sacrifice. The liberation of those around us may require our time, comfort, money, prayer and willingness to live with greater simplicity. Such a price is worth paying when it contributes to the salvation of a soul.
The owners of the herd did not see matters in this way. They were confronted with a man restored to sanity and freedom, but their attention remained fixed upon their material loss. Instead of rejoicing at what Christ had done, the people of the region begged him to leave their country. They preferred to preserve their possessions rather than welcome the One whose presence might disturb their established way of living. Jesus respected their decision and departed.
Their response presents us with a serious question. Christ’s presence in our life may also have material consequences. Fidelity to him may oblige us to refuse a profitable opportunity because it is not entirely honest, to reject methods that others regard as normal but that violate justice, or to accept professional disadvantages rather than compromise our conscience. At other times, God may simply ask us to live with less so that our heart can become freer and our love more generous. Following Christ will always require an effective detachment from material things, because communion with him is worth more than any earthly advantage.
Christian poverty expresses the primacy of the spiritual over the material and of our eternal destiny over every temporary success. This does not mean that money, property, work and economic security are unimportant. They are genuine goods and can be used to support a family, serve society, assist those in need and promote works of apostolate. Yet they must remain means rather than masters. Whenever a created good begins to draw us away from Christ, it has ceased to occupy its proper place.
We should therefore ask ourselves whether we would ever be tempted, like the Gerasenes, to send Jesus away because his presence interferes with our plans. We may not speak the words openly, but we can effectively exclude him when we prefer financial gain to honesty, social approval to fidelity, comfort to generosity or professional advancement to the demands of conscience. We cannot claim to welcome Christ while reserving certain areas of our life in which he is not permitted to ask anything of us.
Our prayer should instead echo the words said by the priest before Holy Communion: “Keep me faithful to your commandments, and never let me be separated from you.” It is better to remain with Christ while losing every earthly treasure than to possess the whole world without him. God alone can satisfy the deepest desires of the human heart. Created things may bring real pleasure and fulfil legitimate needs, but they cannot give us the lasting happiness for which we were made.
Everything in this world should help bring us closer to God. Possessions, work, friendships, opportunities and influence fulfil their highest purpose when they assist us in loving him and serving others. When they become obstacles to that love, we must be willing to let them go. Jesus is worth more than the most lucrative transaction, the most distinguished office, the most attractive opportunity and even life itself. If we were to lose him, to whom would we go?
Christ wants to be not merely one good among many but the great love that gives order to every other good. Without his friendship, even abundance eventually leaves the heart unsatisfied; with him, sacrifice and material loss can be borne without losing peace. Our task is therefore not to reject the things of the world but to hold them with freedom, using them gratefully while refusing to let them separate us from the One for whom we were created.
By the Via Virtutis team
Photo by Vladyslav Tobolenko on Unsplash
