March 12                                                              Mark 1:29-45

For most of us, the casting out of demons is safely ensconced in scriptural accounts of Jesus' ministry, such as in today's reading from Mark 1: 29-45. It's not an experience familiar to most of us; it challenges our contemporary sensibilities and rational mindset.  Reading this passage immediately called to mind a powerful and unusual experience of one of my chaplain colleagues.

On-call one evening this summer, the chaplain received a page from a local Emergency Department.  A nurse explained that that there was a young woman in distress, accompanied by her boyfriend.  She was dizzy, unable to speak and felt tightness in her chest. Both were Spanish speaking, from different countries; the boyfriend spoke better English, having lived in the U.S. longer.  The nurse expressed that she was unsure whether she should have called the chaplain; she wondered aloud whether it was appropriate or not. 

Reassured by the chaplain, the nurse explained that the medical staff had overheard the boyfriend (we'll call him J) ask the patient (we'll call her T) if it was okay to tell the staff an additional piece of information they had not yet reported.  T consented, and J explained that his grandfather- who had lived a troubled life- had died; shortly after, his father had a seizure.  When his father recovered, the grandfather's spirit was present in his body, causing him many difficulties, and bringing shame and embarrassment to his family.  The day before this call, J's father had a heart attack and was transported to the hospital; shortly afterwards, T began to feel confused and act erratically. J tried, unsuccessfully, to calm her down, and almost 18 hours later, brought her to the hospital.  They both believed that the grandfather's spirit was now present in T.

While both the medical team and the chaplain raised the question of whether psychiatry should be called, they agreed that it made sense to page the on-call chaplain first, honoring the patient and her boyfriend's understanding that the issue was of a spiritual nature. 

The chaplain engaged the couple with respect, relaying what she had been told, confirming her understanding with J and T, who nodded. Deeply religious people, they were relieved and grateful for her presence, her honoring of their experience, and her offer of prayer.  Using the Book of Common Prayer, she shared prayers for Protection and for Answering of Prayer. She concluded with a prayer that T "be completely herself, the one God created her to be," and that the grandfather be at peace.  The chaplain blessed T with holy water, saying that T "was only herself, restored to wholeness."

T immediately began to relax; her blood pressure came down to normal; and she started to move her body, "as if trying to see if it was her own," according to the chaplain's account. T spoke, saying to J (in Spanish): "I feel good. My chest doesn't hurt. I can breathe.  I can breathe." Turning to the chaplain, T expressed her heartfelt thanks.  Shortly afterwards, T was medically cleared, and she and J walked out of the hospital together.

What happened here?  Can the spirit of one person enter another?  Was T truly sick? How did the healing occur?  Is this healing legitimate? These and other potential questions aside, this young woman and her partner believed in the power of God, the power of faith, the power of prayer to heal her and make them whole again. 

The dramatic nature of this story may not fully resonate.  Yet, I wonder, is it so utterly anachronistic or alien, this experience of being possessed by the spirit of another?  This scripture- and this present day story- invite personal reflection. In what way do we long to be cleansed and made whole?  What within us needs to be cast out to make space for the Holy Spirit to enter in?

Helen Bodell