Outside In

The Rev. Sandy Selby – St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Akron

Proper 7, Year C – June 24, 2007

Text: Galatians 3:23-29 and Luke 8:26-39

 

            About fifteen years ago the nation was shocked by news of a series of murders committed by a man who was not only a serial killer but also a necrophiliac and cannibal. The details of the crimes and the perpetrator’s bizarre rituals were horrifying. How could anyone do such things? The arrest of Jeffrey Dahmer in Wisconsin caused a media uproar right here in Akron, for Mr. Dahmer grew up in Bath Township and graduated from Revere High School. Some of you knew him.

            Jeffrey Dahmer was convicted of murder and sentenced to a total of sixteen consecutive life sentences in Wisconsin and Ohio. But two years later, on November 28, 1994, he was attacked and killed by a fellow inmate. Dahmer’s name surfaced again last year when Roy Ratcliff, the minister who befriended, baptized, and buried him, published a book about Dahmer’s journey to faith.

            The road for Pastor Ratcliff has not been an easy one. He was criticized in many quarters for his relationship with a man who had committed heinous crimes. He was so vilified by his own congregation for baptizing Jeffrey Dahmer that he was forced to leave. People could not believe that anyone as sick as Dahmer could possibly be “born again.” His baptism, they said, was a fraud and an affront, and Ratcliff had demeaned the sacrament by offering it to someone so perverted as to be beyond redemption. They didn’t believe that Dahmer could be changed—and beyond that, they really didn’t want to allow him to change.            

 

           

The Gerasenes felt the same way about the demoniac that Jesus healed by casting his legion of demons into a herd of swine. They had tried to control the man by keeping him under guard and in chains, but periodically he would break his bonds and be driven out into the wilderness to live among the tombs. That’s where Jesus and the disciples found him. When Jesus commanded the unclean spirits to come out of the man, he fell down before Jesus and shouted, “What have you to do with me, Son of the Most High God?” for the demons recognized at once who Jesus was. The demons entered the herd of swine, which then rushed down the steep bank and into the lake, where they drowned.

When the people came out to see what had happened, they found the man totally changed: the demons were gone, and he was sitting fully clothed at Jesus’ feet. But far from rejoicing at this dramatic transformation, the people were afraid and asked Jesus to leave at once.

            Why weren’t they rejoicing? After all, look how radically the demoniac had been transformed! Well, that was the problem. As strange as it may seem, they needed this man because he served a very important social function. He was the “bad guy,” the scapegoat, and the fact that the community could cast him out as not being “one of us” gave them both unity and order. As long as the demoniac was lurking around—sometimes in chains, at others caving around in the tombs, they could project all their perversity on him, and that made them feel safe. Societies have worked this way since ancient times, bringing unity and stability to the “insiders” by blaming the “outsiders” for everything that goes wrong. 

Think of all the disasters, natural and otherwise, that Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell and the like have blamed on those they considered deviants: gays and lesbians, abortionists, feminists, and assorted other liberals! The scarier and more changeable the times, the more people feel the need to demonize those who are different.

            Jesus’ healing of the demoniac was disturbing and destabilizing for the Gerasenes. The man who had been the convenient “Other” was just like them, and they didn’t like it one bit.

 

            Neither did the congregation of the pastor who baptized Jeffrey Dahmer. Here’s what Pastor Ratcliff said at Dahmer’s funeral:

 

Jeff confessed to me his great remorse for his crimes. He wished he could do something for the families of his victims to make it right, but there was nothing he could do. He turned to God because there was no one else to turn to, but he showed great courage in his daring to ask the question, ‘Is heaven for me too?’ I think many people are resentful of him for asking that question. But he dared to ask, and he dared to believe the answer.

 

Jeffrey Dahmer had asked to be baptized into new life with Jesus Christ after much study and prayer. Perhaps he had read these words of Paul to the Galatians: “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”  He wanted to change, but many people—including Pastor Ratcliff’s congregation—didn’t believe that he could, and beyond that they didn’t really want him to. Perhaps they need to reconsider what the Church is all about.

 

Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, has this to say on the subject:

 

The church is the community of those who have been immersed in Jesus’ life, overwhelmed by it. Those who are baptized have disappeared under the surface of Christ’s love and reappeared as different people. The waters close over their heads, and then, like the old world rising out of watery chaos in the first chapter of the Bible, out comes a new world. So when the church baptizes people, it says what it is and what sort of life its people live. Baptism is an event in which the ‘sharing between holy people’ comes to light and we see what the church really is, a community in which people are constantly being brought into new life by being given a new relationship with God and each other (Christian Century, 6/12/07).

 

Paul tells us that “we have been buried with (Christ Jesus) into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:4). The church is called to be a community of transformation that casts out societal norms and ushers in a new creation in which there are no longer insiders and outsiders but one body living together in unity. In Paul’s words, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ.”

 

            Jeffrey Dahmer wanted to be “born again,” and I have to trust that he was. Those who knew Dahmer said that in the months following his baptism he lived as a person transformed. Thank God for that.

Here at St. Paul’s we don’t often hear people say that they have been “born again.” It’s not our usual way of speaking. But we have been born again at our baptism—born into “a process of transformation that is at the center of the Christian life…It means dying to an old way of being and being born into a new way of being, dying to an old identity and being born into a new identity—a way of being and an identity centered in the sacred, in Spirit, in Christ, in God” (Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity). That is what Church—and life--are about.