FLYING PIGS
34C Second Sunday after Pentecost
Given by: Father Frank Alagna
FIRST LESSON
I was ready to be sought out by those who did not ask,
to be found by those who did not seek me.
I said, "Here I am, here I am,"
to a nation that did not call on my name.
I held out my hands all day long to a rebellious people,
who walk in a way that is not good,
following their own devices;
a people who provoke me
to my face continually,
sacrificing in gardens
and offering incense on bricks;
who sit inside tombs,
and spend the night in secret places;
who eat swine's flesh,
with broth of abominable things in their vessels;
who say, "Keep to yourself,
do not come near me, for I am too holy for you."
These are a smoke in my nostrils,
a fire that burns all day long.
See, it is written before me:
I will not keep silent, but I will repay;
I will indeed repay into their laps
their iniquities and their ancestors' iniquities together,
says the Lord;
because they offered incense on the mountains
and reviled me on the hills,
I will measure into their laps
full payment for their actions.
Thus says the Lord:
As the wine is found in the cluster,
and they say, "Do not destroy it,
for there is a blessing in it,"
so I will do for my servants' sake,
and not destroy them all.
I will bring forth descendants from Jacob,
and from Judah inheritors of my mountains; my chosen shall inherit it,
and my servants shall settle there. Isaiah 65:1-9
PSALM 22:18-27
18 Be not far away, O Lord; *
you are my strength; hasten to help me.
19 Save me from the sword, *
my life from the power of the dog.
20 Save me from the lion's mouth, *
my wretched body from the horns of wild bulls.
21 I will declare your Name to my brethren; *
in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.
22 Praise the Lord, you that fear him; *
stand in awe of him, O offspring of Israel;
all you of Jacob's line, give glory.
23 For he does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty;
neither does he hide his face from them; *
but when they cry to him he hears them.
24 My praise is of him in the great assembly; *
I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him.
25 The poor shall eat and be satisfied,
and those who seek the Lord shall praise him: *
"May your heart live for ever!"
26 All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord, *
and all the families of the nations shall bow before him.
27 For kingship belongs to the Lord; *
he rules over the nations.
SECOND LESSON
Now before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. 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 Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to the promise. Galatians 3:23-29
GOSPEL
Jesus and his disciples arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time, he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him, and shouted at the top of his voice, "What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me" -- for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" He said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss.
Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, "Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you." So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him. Luke 8:26-39
POST ELECTION SERMON #34
Today’s Gospel is quite a story. Before the New Testament was written, the stories of Jesus were remembered, stylized, and retold around campfires and dinner tables. You can almost hear the children say, “Abba, daddy, tell the one about Jesus and the flying pigs!” And with a twinkle in his eye, the father would smile and delight everyone with this vivid tale.
And on many levels, the story is a hoot. It's like a political cartoon meets a graphic novel: a naked, deranged man; chatty demons; pigs diving off cliffs; tombs, chains, shackles, spooked townsfolk, and a near-riot. And all this unfolds in Gentile territory, a place good Jews, in the time of Jesus, would consider unclean and off-limits.
But beneath the humor and spectacle lies a powerful theological and political proclamation. The demons call themselves "Legion," invoking the brutal Roman legions. The pigs, unclean in Jewish law and a dietary staple of Roman soldiers, become a symbol of imperial oppression. The swineherd's loss, the townspeople's fear, and the demoniac's liberation all converge to say: Caesar's power is no match for the liberating power of Jesus.
This story isn’t just a supernatural showdown. It’s a direct challenge to oppressive systems, a subversion of empire, and a revelation of who Jesus is. He is the One with power over chaos, cruelty, and spiritual and political bondage. Luke situates this immediately after Jesus calms the storm, creating a crescendo of divine authority over both nature and evil.
These stories prepare us for the decisive question Jesus will soon ask: “Who do you say that I am?” They are more than miracle accounts. They are theological battlegrounds, where the identity of Jesus as the embodiment of divine power is revealed not in domination but in healing, restoration, and the courageous confrontation of evil.
The man possessed by Legion lived in isolation. He was exiled, chained, naked, dwelling among the tombs. He is every person society has cast aside. In today’s world, he is the migrant family torn apart and caged at the border, the unhoused person criminalized for poverty, the gay teenager bullied and legislated against, the Black man suffocated under the knee of systemic racism. He is the Palestinian child orphaned by airstrikes, and the Ukrainian mother fleeing bombs.
The forces that torment him are still with us: white supremacy, xenophobia, greed, nationalism, religious hypocrisy, and political violence. These are the modern-day demons, and they are indeed legion.
And like in the story, they beg not to be cast out.
But Jesus does not negotiate with evil. He does not accommodate it, minimize it, engage in dialogue with it, or rebrand it as acceptable. He casts it out. He sends it over the cliff, into the sea, to be drowned and defeated. And the man is restored, in his right mind, clothed, dignified, rehumanized.
This is what the Gospel demands of us: that we participate in this liberating work. That we name the demons, cast them out, and proclaim that no person is disposable. As Paul writes in Galatians:
“There is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
This is not mere spiritual comfort. It is a radical political and social declaration. It undermines every hierarchy and boundary the world constructs. It nullifies the categories used to divide, dehumanize, and dominate.
Psalm 22 is a psalm of suffering turned to praise. It offers a vision where “the poor shall eat and be satisfied,” and “all the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord.” This is no privatized religion. This is the language of global justice and divine revolution. Dominion belongs to the Lord, who lives in His people, and not to tyrants, oligarchs, or nationalist strongmen. It was the dominion expressed in the six million who participated in the “No Kings” protest, as compared to the fewer that 150 thousand who showed up for the would-be king’s birthday parade.
The prophet Isaiah opens with God declaring:
“I was ready to be sought out by those who did not ask... to a nation that did not call on my name, I said, ‘Here I am.’”
Even to a rebellious, unjust, and forgetful people, God is present, persistent, calling us to a better way. God’s mercy is relentless, but so is God’s demand for justice. As Isaiah continues, we hear of a people who provoke God with hypocrisy and violence, and yet, a remnant will act rightly. In every generation, God raises up those who will not bow to the idols of empire.
But we, like the people of Gerasene, are often afraid of such liberation. When the man is healed, the townspeople do not rejoice. They beg Jesus to leave. Why? Because liberation is disruptive. It threatens the status quo. It upends economies that profit from oppression. It demands a reordering of values, power, and allegiance. Will you pledge your allegiance to the Kingdom of God and to the radical vulnerability of cruciform love?
And so it is today.
We live in a nation where gospel words are weaponized by false prophets. Where Jesus is draped in a flag, his teachings twisted to bless guns, greed, and exclusion. Where migrant children are still caged. Where billionaires hoard wealth while the poor die without health care. Where Christian nationalism mocks the cross by raising up Caesars in its place. Where white nationalism is nurtured and coddled in churches. Could you be moved to begin a conversation among yourselves as to the appropriateness of having a national flag in your church?
We must say no. We must say that this is not Christianity. This is not Jesus. This is not the Kingdom of God.
The Sermon on the Mount calls us to hunger and thirst for righteousness, to be peacemakers, to love our enemies, to forgive, to turn the other cheek, to be salt and light. It calls us to solidarity with the poor, to mercy, to purity of heart. It declares the meek, not the mighty, as blessed. It says blessed are those who are persecuted for justice.
This is the ethic of a new world. It is not a retreat from society but a direct confrontation with it. It is political in the truest sense, not partisan, but a call to a radically different ordering of life rooted in compassion, truth, and justice.
So, as followers of Jesus, we cannot be neutral. Silence in the face of injustice is complicity. Our faith must take flesh in protest, in protection, in accompaniment, in advocacy. We must cast out the modern legions. We must denounce every ideology that dehumanizes and demonizes. We must preach not the gospel of empire, but the gospel of the crucified and risen Christ who stands with the least of these.
We need a Church that tells the truth. A Church that names racism, fascism, and hatred for what they are. A Church that says "No" to governors banning history books, to lawmakers targeting queer youth, to billionaires poisoning the earth for profit. A Church that says "Yes" to sanctuary, reparations, abolition, environmental justice, and radical love and welcome.
We need a Church that remembers the man with the legion of demons, because we are that man. We have been isolated, overwhelmed, broken. But we are also called to be the healers, the proclaimers, the restorers.
The man begged to follow Jesus. But Jesus told him:
“Return to your home and declare how much God has done for you.”
That is our commission too. Go home. Go to your community. Go to your people. Tell them what God has done. Show them what God is doing. Be the witness. Be the testimony. Be the living parable of love stronger than death.
Let us not be those who beg Jesus to leave because his liberation is too much. Let us be those who beg Jesus to stay, and then follow him into the streets, the courtrooms, the shelters, the detention centers, the halls of power.
Let us cast out the demons.
Let us reclaim the Gospel.
Let us declare with our whole lives that the power of love will prevail.
And while we proclaim this love, we must embody it with boldness. We must organize, educate, vote, and disrupt systems that grind the poor into dust. We must call upon our congregations to be sanctuaries not just in word but in deed, providing refuge, resisting ICE raids, standing with those targeted by unjust laws.
Let us fund ministries not just of charity, but of justice. Let us be churches that train up abolitionists, climate activists, peacemakers, healers. Let us teach our children that the gospel is not about personal piety alone, but about transforming the world.
Because in the end, the Gospel is not neutral. It is not safe. It is not comfortable. It is revolutionary. It is a summons to rise. It is a cross that confronts every Caesar, every Legion, every demon. It is the cry of the crucified and risen One, calling us to follow, to act, to risk, and to love.