How Far Will Jesus Go For You?

How far will Skip’s Son sail fer ye? How far will ye sail with Him?

After healing Peter’s mother-in-law—after mending many who were cursed by dark spirits and laid low with sickness—Skip’s Son set sail. Who ain’t wished fer a good voyage after a hard stretch of toil?

We know the lay of things. Work ‘til we drop. Squabbles with kin and crew leave us weary. Then there be those looking to ride the wake of yer good fortune. “Master, I’ll sail with ye anywhere ye go.” Or, “Aye, I’ll go, but first, me must bury me old man.”

Such talk holds no tuck with Skip’s Son, ye may lay ter that. So the Son and his crew set sail across the Sea of Galilee. As often happens soon after ye get underway, foul weather struck. The sky turned black, the wind howled, and the sea rolled wildly. Cold, soaked, and certain they ‘bout ter be sent ter Davy Jones, the crew lost their wits and pert near mutinied.

“Lord Jesus! Save us! We’re going to the depths!”

How oft do we shuck our confidence in the Son and go straight to calamity, certain all be lost?

Now, in Matthew’s account of this perilous moment, he uses the word “seismos” fer “storm.” This be the same expression used fer great quakes, which be suggesting the sea itself rose in a mighty upheaval (Matthew 8:24). Mark and Luke call the ruckus a “lailaps,” a savage tempest. The use of “seismos” hints at something more—a storm not just of the sea but of a vile spirit.

Skip’s Son, asleep on His pillow, cracked open one eye, let out a breath, and said, “Why be ye afeared?” Then He stood, rebuked the wind and sea, and quick a lightening, the waters lay still. (Matthew 8:23–27, Mark 4:35–41, Luke 8:22–25).

They made landfall in the region of the Gerasenes. Now, a good Jew would’ve picked a better port, one more friendly, fer this be a place of pagan shrines, heathen grog shops and brothels, and herds of pigs, which every Jew knows be vile, filthy, and stinking creatures.

Pirates!!

Pirates, now, they’ll get a hankering fer pigs—’specially the kind that be slow-roasted and smoked ter crispy perfection. As ye well know, the word “buccaneer” comes from the French boucanier, which itself hails from the Caribbean Arawak word buccan. A buccan be a wooden frame used to smoke meat, a fine way that keeps a pirate’s belly full.

So the crew found pigs a plenty, grog shops, brothels, and no doubt women with loose morals and men with even looser tempers. This port be just the sort a pirate might make his home port.

But Skip’s Son didn’t sail there fer the festivities, of that ye can be sure. No, he comes fer one man—or maybe two fellers, fer the account and accounting gets a bit jumbled when we compare Mark, Luke, and Matthew. A madman, one out of his gourd and wild as he as the sea, rushed at Jesus.

“What do ye want with us?” the man cried. Us—as in more than one spirit. “What have ye to do with me, Son of the Most High? Be ye here to torment us before our time? I beg ye, do not send us to the depths!” (Matthew 8:28-34, Mark 5:7, Luke 8:28).

The Spirits Knew Their Fate

Do we? A good many of us act as if we don’t care what comes after we go into the grave. Such a short view of things will leave ye on a lee shore with a blow driving ye onto the rocks: of that, ye can be sure.

This rascal lived among the dead in tombs and was so fierce no lubbers dared pass by. Ever after some brave souls tried ter chain him, he snapped all fetters clapped upon his wrist and ankles (Mark 5:3-4). Day and night, he wailed and shrieked, cutting himself with stones (Mark 5:5). Naked (Luke 8:27)—fer he shucked his garments and ran about like a beast—his flesh be scared with scabs. Fresh wounds oozed puss and blood. Reeking of filth and sweat, this be the chap Skip’s Son came ter find.

Yer Name, Please

Skip’s Son asked us their name. They answered, “Legion.” Now, a Roman legion could be from three to six thousand soldiers, but it be a well-known fact that demons lie. Why, a demon would rather lie tell than tell the truth. So it might not have been a full legion of demons, but as we see in this tale, that poor feller be filled ter the brim with filthy spirits.

Same as us, some days. We take hold of dirty thoughts and act in vulgar ways. In doing so, we give shelter ter demons. Ne’er forget that the devil is the prince of the air and we cannot see air, yet it be all around us. These spirits begged the Son ter send’em into the swine. Why pigs, ye might wonder? The answer be found in what happened next.

Skip’s Son gave the command: “Go!” and out the demons fled the man and hopped into the filthy swine. From man’s muck into the muck of pigs. Right off, all two thousand little piggies rushed headlong down the cliffs into the sea and went fer a dip in the sea (Mark 5:13). In the waters near the pirate port of Nassau it be known that certain pigs swim. These not be that breed. Down ter the depths of Davy Jones’ Locker, they sank and drowned.

Down, Down

Killing creatures be what brings demons joy. The devil and his crew love ter destroy what Skipper created. They take pleasure in prompting folk ter deface themselves, carve up their flesh, and destroy people made in Skip’s image.

Now it be encouraging ter see who be in control of this scene. Not the pigs. Not the demons. Not the man. Not the crew, of that ye can be certain. No, only Skip’s Son lay hold of the moment and he used his power ter calm the sea and still the rage that had been in this poor feller.

And what be the Son’s reward fer such kindness? The people begged Him to leave.

We May Wonder Why…

but when we understand the nature of demons, it be clear. A legion of devils were cast into two thousand pigs—and the pigs drowned. So where’d the demons go next? Aye, most likely into the folks of the region, fer the Son himself says, “When a dirty, rotten spirit bolts from a body, it sails through dry, desolate places seeking rest.” (Luke 11:24, Pirate Translation)

We get what we want and those in that port preferred filthy living ter the clean, holiness of the Son. But that be not the end of this tale, not by a long cannon shot.

Some days or months later, the Son returned ter this region and went ter preaching and teaching the good news of the kingdom. He drew such a crowd that 4,000 men, plus women and children, found themselves famished. Once more moved with compassion, the Son performed a miracle and fed the entire multitude with seven loaves and a few small fish (Matthew 15:32–39 and Mark 8:1–10).

Is There a Secret to Be learned?

We may wonder how some knew ter come to hear the Son. Though we can’t know fer sure, the secret may be in the Son’s last words ter man who’d live in the tombs:

“Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you” (Mark 5:19 (NIV).

We can learn much from this tale. When the Son’s Holy Spirit sends a body ter help us, the prince of the air may pitch a fit and send a tempest ter prevent aid from arriving. But if we keep praying, seeking, and pleading, the Son will overcome the chaos and come ter us. Though His crew may suffer, He comes. Though crowds clammer fer the Son ter be gone, He comes. Though we be not in our right minds, He comes.

If ye living among the dead come out of yer tomb and say ter the filthy spirits and thoughts tormenting ye, “Be gone! Come out of me and ne’re return, in Jesus’ name!”