Our reading is Luke 8:26-39. There is no other way to describe the story, it is weird. It is weird from beginning to end. The story begins with Jesus and the disciples sailing on the Sea of Galilee. They land in an area largely comprised of Gentiles, who show very little interest in Jesus. As a matter of fact, only one person came out to meet him, the weirdest man in the entire community – the demoniac, Legion. We are told his name is derived from his spiritual condition. A legion of demons had invaded his soul. He lives in isolation because no one wants to live with him. That is fine with him, because he simply wants to be left alone. There is no hope. There is no earthly cure for him. The only thing he has to look forward to is death. The tombs that surround him were his earthly future. He had no clue at the beginning of the day a cure was so close. Yet, by the end of the day, he had reclaimed his life because Jesus came into his life. The story ends in an odd way. You would think the community would have wanted to thank Jesus for saving one of their own. Instead, they insist that Jesus leave. I told you – it is a weird story from beginning to end.
Can I make a confession? I like this story because it is so weird. Maybe a better word is creepy. I have read this story for nearly fifty years, and I understood the divine truth from the very first time. The story of Legion is a story about Jesus’ authority over demons. The authority of Jesus cannot be ignored. All the stories in the eighth and ninth chapters of Luke deal with Jesus’ authority over something. Trace them with me. Jesus had authority over leprosy. Jesus had authority over paralysis. Jesus had authority over sickness. Jesus had the authority to call the disciples to follow him. Jesus had authority over nature. Jesus had authority over fasting. Jesus had authority over life itself. In this story, Jesus had authority over demons. The question is not whether Jesus had authority. The question is, do you believe in demons? Everyone must answer that question for themselves. I had to answer that question for myself. I believe in demon possession. Do you believe in demon possession? This is why I believe in demon possession. Let me tell you my story. I tell this story annually to remind us of Halloween’s dark side.
Her name was Pat, and she changed the way I look at Halloween forever. When I was pastoring in the Cleveland area, I received a random phone call. The young woman’s voice on the end of the line said she needed help. I was prepared to give her a bag of food or a voucher to the local grocery store. However, she was quick to say she didn’t need financial help, she had a job to cover her expenses. She just needed to talk to someone about some experiences in her life. I said I would be glad to meet with her and we met at my church a few days later.
When the day arrived, she came early. She drove an old light blue Pontiac, complete with rust and some bald tires. From my office window, I watched her sit in her car until the magic hour. I met her on the sidewalk in front of the church and stuck out my hand to welcome her. She didn’t respond. She could not even make eye contact, but I examined her. In short, not yet seeing her thirtieth birthday, she was a victim of life. Her clothes were faded and baggy. Her hair was long and ungroomed. Her shoes were worn out. There is no other way to say it, she was as nervous as a cat. The church building was empty and we sat in the narthex. In those days, my office resembled a closet, so the only place we could talk comfortably was the narthex. The right words were hard to find. I tried my best by making small talk. I wanted her to calm down, but she never did. The only thing she did was look at her watch and tug on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Realizing our conversation was going nowhere, I asked her this question: How can I help you? Using broken thoughts and sentences, she told me about some past surgery. I don’t remember anything about it, however, what I do remember was her uneasy spirit. Fidgeting in her seat, she told me she suffered from some form of post-traumatic stress disorder. I said, “I am not sure I can help you. I am not really a counselor, I am a preacher, I am a theologian.” We sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, when she announced it was time to go. She asked me, “Can we meet again?” I said, “Yes!” and I gave her a card. She promised me she would call, and she did.
The next time we met, she arrived in the same old light blue Pontiac. She was wearing the same shapeless clothes. Just like our prior meeting, her eyes were down, and her spirit was broken. We sat in the same seats in the same empty church. However, this time she did something new. She looked at me and said, “I have to confess, I lied to you last time.” She continued, “I lied to you about the source of my problem. The problem is not my surgery. The problem is I can’t get over my childhood.” Without a single emotion, she began to tell me about her childhood summers.
Annually, she would travel to Canada for the family vacation. They would visit her uncle, who lived on some remote lake. Her parents were both alcoholics. They drank daily, so they entrusted Pat and her siblings to their uncle. The uncle was a Satan worshipper, who exposed his nieces and nephews to some of life’s cruelest experiences. There was no form of abuse they didn’t endure. She told me she was buried alive with an air tube to allow her to keep breathing. She told me he forced her to attend satanic worship services, where animal sacrifices were common. She told me she hated Halloween, because on that highest day of the satanic calendar, human sacrifices were expected. Those experiences forced her personality to fracture and she manifested eight personalities in all. I asked her just one question, “How did you survive?” She answered with red, moist eyes, “I am not sure I have.” She pulled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and revealed to me the signs of a cutter. She reached into her pocket and showed me her knife. She said, “My psychologist wanted me to come and talk with you. He wants you to teach me about the truth about God and Jesus’ love.” Through a period of several years, I went through the traditional confirmation curriculum with each personality, offering them communion once the course was complete. Each one heard about the good news of Jesus Christ. Sad but true, I taught her about Jesus. She taught me about a world that I wished didn’t exist, Satanism.
Because of my discussions with Pat, I began to research that dark world. I learned that the people who organized modern Satanism were Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) and Anton LeVey (1930-1997). Crowley believed he had harnessed the power of Black Magic. LeVey established the Church of Satan in 1966 in San Francisco. The combination of these two men was truly sinister. The church of Satan is the counter universe to the Christian world.
We worship in the open; they worship in hiding
We worship in churches; they worship in covens
We exist to help others; they exist to help themselves
We see Jesus as the Lamb of God; they value the goat
We sacrifice ourselves to serve; they sacrifice others to gain
We are taught to love; they are taught to hate
We believe in angels; they believe in demons
We are taught to welcome; they are taught to intimidate
Our cross is right side up; their cross is upside down
We give our praise and glory to God; they embrace Satan
The more I learned, the sicker I grew. The story of Legion is the story of a man who was completely overwhelmed by Satan and his forces. I sat there with Pat for years, and I saw a young woman whose life had been destroyed by Satan, and a young woman who needed God’s love. It did not hit me until later – the bravest thing I have ever witnessed was Pat walking into that church for the first time.
Pat came to me for help, but I learned so much from her. Do you know what I learned from her? I learned to stand close to Jesus. Without Jesus, Legion would not have been healed. Jesus isn’t just our friend; Jesus is our Savior and protector. When I was young, my friends and I played with a Ouija board to get answers. When I was young, I wondered about mediums and communicating with the dead. I know people who use tarot cards to see into the future. I know people who sit in the dark in every closed hospital and school hoping to experience paranormal activities. I don’t dismiss those things because I don’t believe in them. I dismiss those things because I do believe in them. They are so seductive. I know they can lead us into a dark world, where I don’t want to go. I just want to stand near Jesus where it is safe. No wonder Legion wanted to go with the Master. He just wanted to be safe.
It has been years since my time with Pat. Our time together ended when I moved to my next church. However, I still think about her during the Halloween season. The last time we met, we sat in the narthex of my church and talked. She thanked me for my time and wanted to give me a gift. I didn’t want a gift, but she insisted. She told me she wanted to give me something she didn’t need anymore. She reached into her pants pocket and handed me her knife. It was the same knife she had used to cut herself. It is my most prized possession from my time in the ministry. Then, she reached out her hand and asked me to pray with her one more time. I prayed that Jesus would protect her from the dark world.
On Halloween, I am planning on being home passing out candy. I like passing out candy, because I like seeing all the children arrive in their Halloween costumes. There will be some princesses. There will be some with masks of frightening characters. There will be a few trying to look like Beetlejuice. There will be a handful of football players. (The ones dressed like Cleveland Browns will get extra candy because they have suffered enough!) When the last one comes, I will turn off my front porch light and pray. I will pray that Jesus keeps all those trick-or-treaters safe, but I will also pray for those souls who are lost in the dark world of Satanism. With Jesus, there is hope. 1 John 1:5 says, “God is light; in him there is no darkness at all.”



















