Homilies

A friend of mine once preached on this Gospel. As he read the words of Jesus, “Let the little children come to me,” a little girl suddenly leapt up from her pew and stood beside him at the ambo. Unsure of what to do, he gently patted her on the head and said, “Thank you, you can go back to your parents now,” and off she went. It was a sweet and touching moment—until we realize that this little girl may have been the only one in the church that day who truly embodied the heart of a Christian.

It is hard to picture this Gospel scene. The world has changed dramatically over the last 2,000 years. We do not often witness exorcisms today, and we certainly do not see them happening on the streets. In Jesus’ time, however, exorcisms were not sensationalized by the media or turned into the plots of low-brow movies. They were a regular part of life. Demons were believed to be the cause of bad luck, illness, and psychological disturbance. As a result, exorcists were common, even performing their rituals in public. Walking through the streets of the ancient world, you might see people visiting a local exorcist, having prayers said over them. Some of these exorcists were frauds, taking advantage of the people’s ignorance and stealing their money. Others were sincere believers who sought to bring God’s grace and healing to a world in need.

The Apostles are often, embarrassingly, all too human. I remember attending a retreat for high school seniors several years ago. The retreat was meant to be a time for spiritual growth—a chance for students to grow closer to Christ and form stronger bonds with one another. There were spiritual talks, time for prayer, and moments of quiet reflection. But there was also paintball. And to no one’s surprise, that was the most exciting part for the students. Before the game, all they could talk about was how great they would be and how their strategies were unbeatable. Afterward, they spent hours boasting about their victories. The boys in my cabin stayed up until 3:00 a.m. arguing over who shot whom and, naturally, who was the greatest.