Three years ago I moved to Abilene, Texas, with my husband, leaving behind the greatest city in the world, Atlanta, Georgia. We embarked on an adventure into the wilderness so that I could pursue my M.Div. at Abilene Christian University. Abilene proved to be utterly foreign in culture and custom, yet oddly warm and welcoming. It was full of new friends and acquaintances, but it had also captured old friends and acquaintances from other familiar locales. After a year of grad school and part-time jobs, I found myself entertaining the possibility of working for ACU Residence Life as an Area Coordinator. So, my husband and I moved into a little apartment on the first floor of a freshman dorm, and for two years we lived with 300 freshman girls. When I was not reading and writing for my M.Div., I was solving roommate conflicts, meeting with residents, and mentoring a staff of RAs who lived on the halls. At night I was often “on call” for the residents on ACU’s campus, which required me to answer my phone, regardless of the hour, and go running to any emergency for any resident. These calls were often filled with danger (such as a car accident, or an injury of some sort), uncertainty, and suspense. It was in these late hours of the night that I found myself meeting up with an old friend.

I had first come to know this friend of mine in 2010 when I took my first preaching class at Lipscomb University. Dr. David Fleer was teaching us how to preach through the Gospel of Mark. I had not actually intended to sign up for a preaching class. Sure, my dad was a preacher, but I had four older brothers who could follow in his footsteps. Surely it was not the daughter’s calling to be a preacher! Lo and behold, I came to discover through the course of the semester that I am quite capable of sharing the gospel. When I imagined people in need of the good news of Jesus, I found myself aching with the thoughts of Jesus as he surveyed the crowd of 5000 in Mark 6: “As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd…” As a sheep myself who had once been lost and now was found, I longed to help reconnect sheep with the good Shepherd. However, my mission was challenged when I met Legion. I was assigned Mark 5:1-20 for my first sermon. My task was clear—study the text, and compose a sermon that is relevant and challenging. But this task became difficult as I stepped into the story.

We stepped out of the boat and onto the shore, and that’s when I saw him—a man running towards us. He was covered in blood and bruises, he was unclothed, unshaven, and he smelled like death. He was crying out in a loud, hoarse voice, and I could barely make out his words. I was frightened, and when he came stumbling toward me I took a step back. I almost turned to run, as I felt vulnerable and embarrassed. Just as I started to turn away, I heard a voice ask the man, “What is your name?” I paused, and my breath froze—“His name??” I wondered. I looked at Jesus with a mix of amazement and scrutiny (an expression that had become frequent for me as I continued to follow Jesus around). Jesus’s eyes were unyieldingly fixed on the man. He responded, “My name is Legion, for we are many.”

This man had demons. He was full of them. Fearing that I was no match for this mess, I stood back and observed. This man had been shackled repeatedly; he raged day and night. His anguish could be heard from far away. He reeked of death. The townspeople feared him. But the longer I observed, the more it became clear: yes, this man had demons, but he had also been demonized. He had been thrown out, cut off, and treated like an animal. He played an important role for the town, as the town unified over their common enemy. This man was covered in demons from all different places. But then I watched as Jesus cast out the demons into the nearby herd of pigs, and as the pigs raced down the steep bank, they were drowned. The man was free, and my anxieties were released. But the real trouble arrived when the townspeople showed up—Jesus had messed with their system. Jesus had set their prisoner free; he had rescued their scapegoat. No longer could the town cast their demons on the man, or blame him for their disorder. Astonished and afraid of Jesus, they begged him to leave.

As Jesus turned to leave, the man approached and begged Jesus to let him tag along. But Jesus denied the man’s request, and he urged the man to return to the town and share his story. The healed man became a preacher that day, and so did I. We have been friends and co-laborers in Christ ever since.

I had not thought of Legion in quite some time, until my first time to be on call for Residence Life. My phone rang, waking me from my deep sleep. It was 2:00 a.m. on a Wednesday night. I answered the phone and was met with a voice of panic and fear: “There is a resident in one of the halls who wants to kill himself! Come, quick!” I hung up and called the police for backup, and rushed to the boy’s room. When I arrived, I quickly swallowed my fear as I surveyed the situation. The boy’s eyes were red and swollen from crying, his arms and his chest were covered in freshly dried blood from cutting himself. Quite honestly, he looked terrifying. But then I looked in his eyes, and I saw my old friend Legion. I felt the words of Jesus tumble out of my mouth as I reached out my hand, “What is your name?”

The boy ended up being okay after a long night of talking with a counselor. Throughout my time in Residence Life, many of the late night phone calls I received involved depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. Oftentimes these circumstances arose from bullying or from some form of marginalization. But I always had Legion in front of me, coaching me along, helping me to see the healed and whole person waiting to break free.

Now I teach undergraduate Bible classes at ACU, and I take my old friend with me to every class. I look into the eyes of my students and I wonder how an encounter with Jesus would change their lives. I wonder, if Jesus stepped out of a boat and into their lives today, if Jesus fearlessly approached and asked, “What is your name?” how would these lives be changed? If I channeled the voice of Christ and spoke freedom to the oppressed, brought healing with the good news, spoke truth where injustice reigns, who might be set free today? Am I willing to overcome my fear? Am I willing to disrupt a societal system of oppression and scapegoating? With the help of my friend, yes I will overcome my fear, and yes I will preach freedom and life into places of death. I will search for Legion in my classes, in my church, and around Abilene. It may sound simple, or like the most obvious task in your ministry. But it’s not easy to humanize those who we have been conditioned to ignore or blame. So I summon my friend to pay you a visit. Let him help you see. Who is the Legion in your community? How will you engage them?

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Header image: Soosay, Surlan. A Brown Kid with a Black Eye. Taken September 20, 2012. Mad World by Tears for Fears Original HQ 1983. Retrieved from flickr.com. Some rights reserved.