Mark 5 begins with the story of an untamable demoniac. He breaks the chains people have used to try and restrain him. He lives his life among the tombs, where he screams and cuts himself with stones. (The Greek word indicates these cuts were not little nicks. Mangle is one of the synonyms my dictionary gave.) When Jesus casts the many demons out of the man, they tell Jesus to give them permission to go into a herd of pigs. Jesus lets them, and what do they do? They drive the pigs off a cliff and into the water below. Hosting demons is not a symbiotic relationship!
I have never believed that Satan has the welfare of people in mind, but reading the story this week left me thinking about how much he loves to destroy people. Currently I’m reading a book written by a man who, with his family, ministered to drug addicts and prostitutes—people who in looking for a little pleasure or some freedom from old restraints found something quite different. Because of where they lived, the author’s children “had a very real appreciation of just what sin does to people. They see beyond the thin, glamorous veil to the pain and hurt beneath…Our children have a healthy understanding of the true nature of sin and its effects.”
I find myself wondering if I have a healthy understanding of the true nature of my sin and its effects. My sins allow me to go through life looking fairly normal, without the obvious self-destruction of drugs and prostitution. Do I really understand the hurtful nature of a “little” selfishness, an unkind thought, or looking for the easiest path? Do I really understand how small my love is and the harm that brings? Do I understand that when God calls me to be willing to take risks for him it is dangerous to want to stay in my comfort zone? Do I understand that choosing my own path does not lead to where I truly want to go?
The value of a path is in its ability to take us to the desired destination. Satan offers a path that promises pleasure and ease, but ends in destruction. God offers a path that promises challenges beyond our own ability to cope, but it ends in a life worth living and an eternity of enjoying his company.