As I write these words, it is the second week in Advent. Advent is a wonderful time. It is a time when we recall ancient prophecies and timeless anticipation. It is a time of color and lights and preparation. It is a time of reflection and repentance. It is a time to recall that God came among us; that the Word really was made flesh. And as such it can become a time of just waiting. But Advent also calls us to action!

As time progresses, and as I find myself getting on in years, I hope to goodness that some increase in wisdom has come with my increase in age!

Retirement may have changed my life in some ways—I suppose that I have slowed down a little and there is certainly more flexibility in my life pattern. And yet I remain active. Teaching Bible and leading study groups, visitation, preaching when called, and other liturgical activities along with music, social and sporting activities all contribute to keeping me on the go. But retirement has brought benefits that I truly appreciate; like more time for prayer and for meditation, and the ability to be able to focus on an aspect of our faith that I feel strongly about. And that is the 'oneness in Christ.'

Increasingly, I find myself disappointed and disturbed by statements and actions that are made within various denominations, that would seek to divide the body. Critics of the church are emboldened and encouraged when we squabble among ourselves over some matter of detail or behavior; over a difference in creed or liturgy, or of biblical interpretation. Someone who feels drawn, perhaps for the first time to learn something about God, can be turned away by our behavior and our talk.

And so I ask questions of us.

Are we not behaving like the most stubborn Pharisee of Jesus' time when we focus on some point or another and fail to see and act as Jesus has called?

Are we not completely missing the point when we insist on a particular biblical translation and interpretation, and argue over that, while failing to see the hungry lonely person in our midst?

Is it so important to stress some aspect or another of belief, instead of stressing the need to draw people into the warmth and acceptance of Christ's love?

And as we proliferate and emphasize our differences and our denominational names, biases and creeds, are we not in someway rebuilding barriers that Christ tore down at Calvary?

In all of this, I suggest that we are ignoring what Paul wrote to the Christians in Galatia "…you are all one in Christ."

Increasingly I find myself putting forth these questions and I suggest that these are questions to ponder and act upon—each one of us in our own way in our own circle.

Now, do not misunderstand me. There are basic truths in the Gospel of Christ that must be defended and adhered to faithfully. And many of the differences we have regarding the celebration of our faith can and do enrich our worship experience. But when misdirected and wrongly emphasized, they become a barrier to new believers. And I would dearly love to see that change!

The encounter between Jesus and a violent, tormented and lonely man can help us in this.

Maybe you have heard it said that it is possible to feel very lonely in a crowd. At various times I have found that to be true. We have many ways of making each other feel uncomfortable and excluded. Some times deliberately and other times not so deliberately. Indeed, sometimes we get ourselves in to such a situation!

As a teenager back in England, a friend and I decided to take our motorcycles on a long weekend ride to London. After quite a few hours of riding we were hungry and stopped in a little town to eat. But after strolling up and down the high street, we discovered that the town had no restaurants. There were no snack bars and no sandwich shops. But just as we were about to give up, we saw an open room set up with a long table of food with people working their way through the line with plates. "At last, a buffet," I said to John. And we joined the line and filled our plates. Reaching the end of the line, I looked for someone to pay, but there was no register and no cashier. And so I asked "Where do we pay?" Silence descended. Everyone looked at us. And someone remarked, "This is a wedding party, I suggest you leave. Now."

A full room, but I felt that feeling of total exclusion; not wanted and no right to be there. Not one of us.

Sometimes the questions and statements are made directly, and sometimes they just hang unvoiced in the air of embarrassment—Who are you? You don't belong here. You are not one of us. Subtle and not so subtle expressions like that, inevitably lead to the feeling of loneliness—even in a crowd.

Although you might not see this at first, at least some of that was going on in the account from Mark.

Jesus had crossed the lake and had landed on the beach, and there He was met by a man who has been called 'the most frightening man in the Bible.' It seems that this man was an absolute menace and nuisance. He had been living in the hills for years, and had made his home in a region full of caves that were used as burial places by the neighboring peoples. We can hardly imagine the trouble he caused as mourners came out with their loved ones, and he would rant and rave and just kick up a storm.

Over time, people had tried to restrain him, perhaps even tried to lock him away. But it seems that he had enormous strength. As often as they put iron chains and shackles on his legs, he would tear them off. As often as they put chains on his wrists, he would tear them apart. And so he lived among the tombs. Out of control. Running around screaming out at the top of his voice, both night and day. He was a masochist and cut himself with stones. In Luke's account, we also learn that the man refused to wear clothes.

And so there he was. An absolute madman. Unkempt with ragged hair and beard, unclothed, covered in cuts and bruises. Remains of chains hanging from his ankles and wrists. Screaming at the top of his voice. Here was a man surely to be avoided at all costs. We can be certain that the local children were instructed to never, ever, go out there alone.

Here was a violent man. Here was a terrible, bad and wicked man…or was he?

We cannot know what brought him to this state. We do not know what injustice or illness caused him to be like this. Perhaps it all began many years earlier with some minor problem, and then after years of being shut out and excluded, and then ridiculed and finally feared and completely shunned; perhaps those responses from others had helped to bring him to this state.

On the morning of the Scripture passage, the man was on the hillside looking out across the lake. It was a day just like any other. A day filled only with the promise of loneliness. And he saw a boat coming in to land. Maybe he was thinking about what kind of mischief he could get into to attract attention. Or perhaps he was considering hiding among the caves. But at some point, he recognized Jesus. There is no mistaking that.

And I always find that fact most interesting. If you are familiar with the Gospels, you know how many times the Pharisees and the scribes and the teachers-of-the-law failed to recognize Jesus. In fact, they frequently saw Jesus as a troublemaker, in a sense, not unlike the man in the hills among the caves.

But those with the deepest need, those with the deepest longing or those with an accepting faith—they always recognized Jesus. And so this poor desperate man recognized Jesus that morning.

And in fact not only recognized him by name—Jesus, but for who He really was. Remember what he called out? "Jesus, Son of the Most High God…" Here was a total recognition of Jesus. The Gospel writers do not give us any clues as to whether the man had heard about Jesus—it's hard to imagine how he could have considering his lonely life style. And so we have to look for another explanation, and I suggest there is only one.

There was an instant bond of recognition between them. Jesus, sitting in the boat and looking to the shore, saw him and immediately let his heart go out to the man. Jesus saw the torment, the torture, and the pain that passed as a life for this man. And He was not filled with repulsion or fear or distaste—but with love and sympathy. Before Jesus stepped out of the boat and met the man on the beach, Jesus was already pleading for the man, calling for relief from whatever had possessed him—as Mark put it…"…to come out of this man."

But for his part, after recognizing Jesus, the man and all that possessed him responded as he always responded to the mocking laughing sneering crowds that came out to him from time to time. "…What do you want with me? Have you come to torment and torture me?"  Maybe in his mind he thought; " Ah, this is Jesus and He is the Son of God. I am a lousy miserable wretch of a man. He is probably going to shout at me and put me down as not worthy of His attention. He may even torment me like the others."

If those kinds of thoughts occurred to him, how wrong the man was! Instead, Jesus took him beyond the fear and frustration and simply asked him an every day kind of question. A question that could put him at ease. "What is your name?" It was not put in a legal manner of way, but a friendly way. And as such it's a good pointer for us. If you go up to a stranger and ask their name, you are  opening up a dialog, an opportunity to show a genuine interest in that person—and you are breaking down one of those walls that sometimes make us feel alone and lonely. What is your name?

The man was perhaps not quite ready to accept this as friendly greeting. He was on the defensive and cried out "My name is Legion, for we are many." Or in other, unspoken words, perhaps, "My problems are so many, they are legion, and at times they come crashing down on me. I can't begin to tell you what is wrong with me. People have told me all of my life how rotten and selfish and ugly and useless I am. There is so much that is wrong with me and my attitude and my behavior."

And then came that curious passage about the pigs. Mark wants his reader, from the first century to today, to know in no uncertain manner, how complete was the transformation in this man. Mark tells us that when the people came up to see what was going on, they saw the man sitting, dressed and in his right mind. And Luke adds an important detail; that the man was sitting at Jesus feet.

There is a scene that I cannot help but seeing in my mind—that of Jesus and the man on the beach, embracing. Jesus taking hold of and hugging this untouchable, horrible creature. And Jesus, maybe slowly, one at a time, releasing the man's deepest fears, most wrenching feelings of guilt and self-loathing. Helping the man rediscover his value and his worth, and above all, telling him that he is loved.

The crowd failed to grasp what had happened at first. But Mark concludes the account by telling us that following Jesus' final instruction, the man went home. Can you grasp the depth of that? The man went home. For the first time in so many years of loneliness and anguish, he went home. And he told people about Jesus. And the people listened and were amazed. Make no mistake; this man's life really was changed. And perhaps he began to help others to change their lives for the better.

You might now say, "So what?" Why should we bother ourselves with this archaic story, told in such very unfamiliar terms? Why do I use it here in a meditation on unity? Well, I ask you to see it in a certain way. To see that, if you will, it has nothing to do with evil spirits, demons or pigs, but everything to do with the love of God in Christ and God's all inclusiveness. If God could accept this wild man and give him new life, and if God could include this man in His purpose, then He can certainly include you and me and all of those around us.

That person, whose name was legion, is all around us today. He and she are in our neighborhoods, in our churches, in our families—perhaps even to an extent in you and in me. Those who for whatever reason feel excluded and shut out.

Those who have been made to feel unworthy. Most certainly every person who has felt 'turned off' by our bickering and divisiveness; every person who has ever ventured into one of our churches and felt terribly alone; every person who has ever tried to discover the love of Christ in us and has been turned away by an emphasis on doctrine and structure—all are legion.

Just for a moment, forget the extreme behavior of the man. Forget the extreme response of his family and neighbors while he was living among the tombs. But do not ever forget the torment and the loneliness of the man...and the way that Jesus responded.

Look around you. Look again at those in your church. Is there any one who for whatever reason feels separate or excluded? Is there any one who, for whatever reason, you have perhaps been avoiding? Step across any barrier; reintroduce yourself at a deeper level than ever before. Embrace where perhaps there has been too much neglect. Open up to each other and share your faith and life experiences. You will find more in common than you might have expected. And on the common ground, the presence of Christ will bring release and an opportunity to go forward.

Look around you. Look again at your family or those you work with. Life is too short to hold on to old grudges or mistakes. Imagine that in the boat that morning, Jesus had said to Peter; "Peter, swing the tiller around, fast. Let's move it and avoid that crazy man coming our way. I will come back tomorrow when he is not here."  And suppose that very night in a fit of desperation the man had fallen over the cliff and died. Jesus was not one to put off action, and as His followers, neither should we.

Look around you. Look again at your neighborhood. There are so many who desperately need to experience the saving grace of Jesus Christ; who need to hear how Christ has changed your life and how He can change their lives. They need to hear it told simply and honestly without conditions and preconceptions.

God's love in Christ is given unconditionally. How dare we add conditions! So, look around you, and then look at yourself. Are there times when you feel lonely? Times when you feel excluded from certain activities and events? Times when you just don't fit, or feel a part of something? Well, you are far from being alone. We all feel that way at times. Yes, we can feel very lonely indeed in a crowded room. But please don't give up and don't despair.

On that morning so long ago, a man was leaning against a rock, gazing out across a lake and feeling very alone and misunderstood. And then he saw Jesus. He recognized Jesus. And he went to Jesus. And his life changed.

We can do that. No matter how alone we may feel or how different we may feel, In Christ we can find love and company. In Christ we can find strength and comfort. And in Christ we will also find a challenge, a challenge to do something not only for our selves, but also for those around us. He is always ready to help us in this. All it takes is a recognition, being able to say—and being prepared to say; "I know who you are, Jesus, you are the Son of the Living God, help me in this situation."

And He always will!