And they came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gadarenes.
After a night on a storm-torn lake, the boat reaches the far shore. Commentators ask us to notice two things: the word that guaranteed the crossing, and the strange, unclean land it brings the Lord to.
The landing carries out a word the Lord had already spoken. One writer treats the plainness of it as the whole point, and draws a line from it to our own certainty:
How quietly Mark 5 opens with, "They came to the other side of the sea." Of course they did! How could it be otherwise, when He had said, "Let us go across to the other side"? Dear fellow believer, the same holds for us. "Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God." As to our souls, we are brought to God now. As to our bodies, we certainly will be brought later. We should never let anything weaken this confidence, for it is entirely a question of what He undertook to do.
The same thought is put more briefly by another writer: the Lord had said they were to cross, and "nothing could hinder the fulfilment of His words."
Translations differ over the name of this place. One writer explains why, and why pigs were grazing there:
Gadara (editors read Gerasenes in verse 1 instead of Gadarenes) was the capital of the region it stood in. That may be why Mark uses this name. It was a Greek city, as Josephus records, and that explains the pigs there — you would not expect them among a Jewish population.
Not every writer reads the place the same way. One holds that "Gadara was a portion of the Jewish or sanctified earth" — Jewish ground, though the pigs point the other way.
Read on its own, the storm of the previous chapter looks like bad weather. Read against the shore they now reach, it looks like resistance. That changes how a believer sees every hard crossing:
The enemy would put every difficulty in the way of man's blessing and his deliverance from bondage to demons. His power in Gadara, as what follows shows, was great. No wonder a storm arose when the Lord crossed over to it. It is no wonder still if storms arise to hinder, as far as they can, the advance of God's work on earth. The kingdom does not advance only in fine weather. It may be that when the storm seems worst, blessing is near. If we count on the presence of Christ, as He has promised, we need not fear. There will be opposition. It may be great. In the end the Lord will triumph.
Mark sets the two scenes side by side. What raged in the waves now meets them in a person — and the same power had shown itself on the shore they sailed from:
On the sea they met the fury of the storm. On the land they now meet the wild, uncontrollable fury of a man under the power of an evil spirit… That same power of the devil showed itself on both sides of the lake. In Capernaum, the town they sailed from, they found a man with an unclean spirit in the synagogue itself. Here one runs to meet them, a man who lived among the tombs, himself the home of unclean spirits.
Another writer weighs the speed of the encounter — no gap, no pause after the landing:
Beaten in his more hidden work, the adversary now gives an open challenge without delay, for the man met Him the moment He landed. It was a test case of sorts. The devil had turned the wretched man into a fortress that he hoped to hold at all costs, and into that fortress he had flung a whole legion of demons. If ever a man was held in hopeless captivity by the powers of darkness, it was he. His story mirrors the plight humanity has sunk into under Satan's power.
Matthew 8:28 puts the Gadarene crossing before a run of events that Mark and Luke put after it. Some call that difference a real contradiction. One writer answers that the order is deliberate, not confused:
I am certain that Matthew and Luke were each led to follow an exact order — one following God's dealings through the ages, the other a moral order. So it is a plain blunder to call any resulting difference of arrangement (Matthew 8:28, compared with Mark 5:1 and Luke 8:26) a real discrepancy. A different arrangement certainly fits the same event being placed differently, and by deliberate design, so as to bring out the truth more fully.
- Word. He had said they would cross, and they crossed. It rests wholly on what He undertook to do.
- Storm. The rough crossing was opposition to the blessing waiting ashore. When the storm is worst, blessing may be nearest.
- Shore. They land in a Greek city's region, which is why pigs are grazing there.
- Challenge. Hidden power in the waves becomes open power in a man who meets Him the moment He steps out.
- Order. Matthew places the same event earlier by design, not by error.
And immediately on his going out of the ship there met him out of the tombs a man possessed by an unclean spirit,
Mark moves straight from the stilled storm to a second display of the enemy's power. This time the attack is open, and it meets Jesus the moment He lands. The verse raises the questions the rest of the chapter answers: who this man is, what holds him, and why he comes at once.
The timing matters. One writer connects the storm on the lake and the man on the beach as two moves by the same opponent.
While they crossed the lake, the power of Satan had been at work hidden behind the fury of the tempest. On arriving at the other side it became very obvious in the man with an unclean spirit. Defeated in his more hidden work, the enemy now makes an open challenge without wasting any time. The man met Him as soon as He landed. It was a kind of test case. The devil had turned the wretched man into a fortress that he hoped to hold at all costs, and into the fortress he had flung a whole legion of demons. If ever a man was held in hopeless captivity to the powers of darkness, it was this man. In his story we see the state into which humanity has sunk under Satan's power.
Where the man lived matters. His home among the graves suited the one who held him.
He "had his dwelling among the tombs." The place of death and corruption is Satan's familiar haunt. He delights in the ruin his hands have made. But see how clearly he triumphs over man. He can fill his deluded victim with his own tastes, and make him a willing captive in the place of his own degradation.
This man had been taught the law of Moses. Living among graves was a settled refusal of that teaching.
The highest part of human nature within him was overthrown. His God-given spirit was so debased that he showed complete disregard for even the plainest and easiest rules of the law of Moses. He had surely been taught that law well. Under it, even a brief touch of anything dead made a person unclean (Num. 19:16). This man was so lacking in the feelings of an Israelite, as well as in those of a man, that he made his home in the tombs. His spirit was in revolt against the divine will and paid no attention to the instructions of God's word.
Mark calls the power holding the man an unclean spirit. Other Gospel accounts call the same thing a demon.
In the Gospels the terms "unclean spirits" and "demons" often refer to the same case. So we read that the daughter of the Syrophoenician woman "had an unclean spirit," and that her mother begged the Lord to "cast the demon out of her daughter" (Mark 7:23-30).
People had already tried to hold this man down by force, and failed. That failure carries a far wider lesson.
The story shows the complete helplessness of man to deliver himself, or others, from the power of Satan. All the efforts to restrain the violence of this poor man, or to tame him, were in vain. So today every effort to restrain evil or reform the flesh fails completely. It cannot free the world from its violence and corruption. It cannot free anyone from the power of Satan, and it cannot change the flesh.
Later in the chapter the voice that answers Jesus shifts between "me" and "we." The account treats the man and the spirit as one.
It is remarkable how the man and the unclean spirit merge into one, just as now in grace the Holy Spirit blends most closely with the believer. The man cries, "Do not torment me," though the dealing was with the spirit. So he answers, "My name is Legion, for we are many."
Mark mentions one man; Matthew's account mentions two. One writer answers this from Matthew's own habit of writing.
Readers do not always notice that the pairing is a feature of Matthew's Gospel — so with his blind men of Jericho, and his colt and foal at the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It comes from the Jewish standpoint of his Gospel. In at least some of the cases, the explanation may be the matching need for what the Old Testament counted as adequate testimony.
- Met — the challenge came the instant Jesus landed. The enemy who had worked hidden in the storm now came out in the open.
- Tombs — his home among the dead shows the enemy's taste for ruin. Moses' plainest rule about touching the dead meant nothing to him.
- Unclean — the Gospels use "unclean spirit" and "demon" for the same thing. The word names what held him.
- Chains — every restraint had already failed. The account pictures a world that no reform can tame.
- Legion — the spirit spoke as the man, and the man as the spirit. Matthew counts two men and Mark one; that is Matthew's way of writing, not a contradiction.
who had his dwelling in the tombs; and no one was able to bind him, not even with chains;
A man runs out of a graveyard to meet Jesus the moment He steps ashore. He lives among the tombs, no chain has ever held him, and both details ask what has ruined him — and what can free him.
Mark does not just say where the man appeared. He says where he lived. One writer reads that address as a clue about Satan himself.
He "lived among the tombs." The place of death and decay is where Satan feels at home. He delights in the ruin his own hands have made. And his triumph over man shows most clearly here. He can fill his deluded victim with his own tastes. He can make him a willing prisoner in the very place where he has been dragged down.
Another writer reads the same detail as a comment on the whole world.
We see a man who "lived among the tombs." Where men live, there they die. Close by their homes you will always find a burial place with its tombs. It is a constant reminder that this world lies under the shadow of death. Satan uses all his power to drive men into death. "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy" (John 10:10). He would rob us of every spiritual blessing, kill the body, and destroy the soul.
The second half of the verse records a failure — not the man's, but everyone else's.
"No one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain." Every human device only proved that the enemy was stronger.
One writer takes those broken chains further, from this man to everyone.
Just such, once more, are men. Not this man or that man, but men in general. For what are laws, all laws, human or divine, but chains and fetters cast round men? — chains that they often break; but without them, who would trust another? Take the most convincing champion of the goodness of human nature. Watch how he deals with other people. You will soon see how little real confidence he has in the goodness he boasts about.
One writer links this meeting to the lake crossing just before it.
While they crossed the lake, Satan's power had been at work, hidden behind the fury of the storm. When they reached the other side, it showed itself plainly in the man with the unclean spirit. Beaten in his hidden work, the enemy now makes an open challenge, and wastes no time: the man met Him the moment He landed. It was a kind of test case. The devil had turned the wretched man into a fortress he meant to hold at all costs. Into that fortress he had thrown a whole legion of demons. If the powers of darkness ever held a man in hopeless captivity, it was this man. In his story we see mirrored the plight into which humanity has sunk under Satan's power.
Mark's own details pile up. The man lived in the tombs, no one could bind him, and night and day he cried out and cut himself with stones.
Put these facts together and they show what a complete wreck this man had become. The power of evil that ruled him was malicious and beyond all control. He was an exceptional case. It touched his whole nature — body, soul and spirit.
People had tried everything, and everything had failed. That is the point at which Christ steps ashore.
We learn that though we are ruined and helpless, in the Person of Christ there is One with the power and grace to free us from all the power of Satan. The poor man is so completely identified with the unclean spirit that his body is the home and the tool of the demon. The demon acts and speaks through the man. But demons have to bow before One they know is the Son of God. He has all power to send them to the doom they deserve.
- Dwelling. The man's address is the message. He lives where death is — the place writers call Satan's home ground, and the ruin Satan's own hands have made.
- Chains. People tried chains again and again, and he snapped them all. Every human device only proved that the enemy was stronger.
- Ourselves. Laws are the chains society casts around people. We break them too, so the problem lies in human nature, not in one man in a graveyard.
- Wreck. Put Mark's details together and the ruin is total. Body, soul and spirit were all touched.
- Deliverer. Where man's chains failed, Christ steps ashore. Demons who ignore human chains must bow before the One they know is the Son of God.
because he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been torn asunder by him, and the fetters were shattered; and no one was able to subdue him.
A man living among the tombs in the country of the Gerasenes meets Jesus. This verse pauses to explain why nobody could hold him. Every attempt ended the same way: snapped iron and a man still loose. If force cannot hold a man in Satan's grip, what can?
The verse explains why no one could hold this man. People bound him again and again, and every attempt failed. Mark records the failure in unusual detail.
Here is the detailed account of a case more appalling than any other we can find in the Gospels. No one describes it with such power, such natural realism, or in such detail as Mark... All that human means could do only proved the greater might of the enemy.
The ESV says "shackles" where older translations say "fetters." The word names one specific tool.
Shackles for the feet. Fetters hurt Joseph's feet, as Ps. 105:18 records. Scripture describes them as made of brass and of iron.
One writer sees the broken chains as a picture of people in general, not of one strange man. His test is simple: how far do we actually trust each other?
What are laws — all laws, human or divine — but chains and fetters thrown around men? Men often break those chains. But without them, who would trust anyone? Take the person who argues best that human nature is good. Watch how he deals with others. You will soon see how much real confidence he has in the goodness he boasts of... But take away the restraint of law, and who would walk unarmed on the public road?
The verse ends with a different idea. Older translations read "neither could any man tame him," where the ESV has "No one had the strength to subdue him." Binding holds a man down. Taming would make him different — and that failed too.
Then people tried something else with the demoniac. Could anyone change his nature? But we read, "neither could any man tame him;" so that idea proved useless. It has always been so. Men have no more power to change their natures than they have to hold them down and stop them acting.
The snapped iron was not freedom. It marked a man cut loose from every tie, legal and personal alike.
The Gospel narrative shows this influence destroying... his sense of duty to the laws of social and civil government. Chains and fetters could not restrain him, and he would not let them — no more than love of home, of friends, or of fellow-citizens could hold him.
The failed chains teach a lesson that reaches past this one man.
The story shows how completely helpless man is to deliver himself, or others, from the power of Satan. All the efforts to restrain the violence of this poor man, or to tame him, were in vain. So today every attempt to restrain evil or reform the flesh fails completely. It does not free the world from its violence and corruption, or from the power of Satan, and it does not change the flesh.
Man's failure is only half the lesson.
We are ruined and helpless. Yet in the Person of Christ there is One with power and grace to deliver us from all the power of Satan... But demons must bow before One they know to be the Son of God, who has all power to send them to their just doom.
- Chains — the verse explains why no one could bind him. People tried often. Every chain and shackle came apart in his hands.
- Law — one writer reads the fetters as a picture of law itself, human or divine. Law is restraint thrown around a man from the outside, and he breaks it.
- Taming — "No one had the strength to subdue him" goes further than binding. Holding a nature down failed. Changing it failed too.
- Cost — the broken chains were not liberty. They mark a man cut off from civil order, home, friends and fellow-citizens.
- Christ — every chain snapped, but the demons knew who He was. Where every other method fails, His power shows.
And continually night and day, in the tombs and in the mountains, he was crying and cutting himself with stones.
The verse gives one unbroken picture. There is no rest by night or day, a home among graves and hills, and a voice crying out while the man's own hands wound him. Commentators call it the fullest picture in the Gospels of what Satan's power does to a person. They also read it as a mirror, where ordinary people can see themselves.
Commentators begin with where the man lived.
We see a man who "lived among the tombs." Where people live, there they die. Near their homes you will always find a burying place with its tombs. It is a constant reminder that this world lies under the shadow of death. Satan puts out all his power to drive men into death. "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy" (John 10:10). He would rob us of every spiritual blessing, kill the body, and destroy the soul.
Commentators read the two places named — mountains and tombs — as two ends of one ruin.
His victim's home is in the tombs. The one who had the power of death finds a fitting home among the signs of the ruin his own hand has made. There he lives in the lawless freedom his supernatural strength gives him... The heights of self-exaltation and the burial vaults of corruption are alike the haunts of people Satan holds. The two seem far apart, yet they often come together.
The words "night and day" are not decoration. Commentators ask what this life cost the man, and how long it had gone on.
By living among the tombs, he cut himself off completely from the worship of God required by the law... What makes this picture darker still is that it describes the man's whole way of life. This was no sudden outbreak of evil passion. The symptoms had been like this for a long time, until they became habitual. And night and day he would express his forlorn and hopeless misery by loud, wordless cries.
Three details stand side by side. Each names a different wound.
"Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains" — utterly restless. "Crying out" — utterly miserable. "Cutting himself with stones" — damaging himself in his madness. What a picture!
Commentators do not leave this with one extreme case. They apply it to everyone.
What a spectacle of utter misery! And even so, men are moral suicides. What is more common than the saying, "He was an enemy to nobody except himself"? That is not true of anyone, for no one can harm himself without harming others. Still, of all enemies, a man's worst one is himself. Without our own help, no enemy could injure us. Our sinful desires, our self-righteousness and our unbelief are our most real and deadly foes, along with the thousand other evil growths that twine around them.
Commentators set this case beside the others in the Gospels.
We have, therefore, the most desperate case possible. It is not a leper or a paralytic, nor simply a man with an unclean spirit. Here is a detailed description of a case more appalling than any we can find elsewhere in the Gospels... All human methods only proved the greater might of the enemy... What a picture of dreary wretchedness, the companion of desolation and of death!
One writer draws a careful distinction here. This is not a man sinning, but a man suffering — and even so, held.
Satan tempting is a very different thing from Satan's power. There is sin in the first, because we follow the leaning that God condemns. But the second overrides nature — not sin but misery... He wandered among death and desolation night and day... He seems to have been miserable, "crying and cutting himself with stones." That may be, yet there was the overriding power, and still it was restrained. Satan did one thing with the pigs as soon as he was permitted. If he had been free to do the same to the man, the poor madman would never have seen or met Jesus. But a hand held him, despite all his power.
This is not where the man's story ends.
After the display of His power over nature, our Lord shows His victories over the demons. He brings the demon-possessed man of Gadara from his distance and hopeless self-torture in the tombs to a place at His feet, clothed and in his right mind.
- Held — Satan's power over this man overrode nature itself, yet a hand restrained it. Without that hand, he would never have lived to meet Jesus.
- Home — living among tombs shows where that power always drives a man: towards death, the ruin its own hand has made.
- Habit — "night and day" tells us this was no sudden outburst but a long-settled way of life.
- Harm — the crying and the stones say that man's worst enemy is himself; without our own help no enemy could injure us.
- Healed — no human method could master this power. Christ brought him from self-torture in the tombs to a seat at His feet, clothed and in his right mind.
But seeing Jesus from afar off, he ran and did him homage,
A man no one could control sees Jesus from a distance, runs to Him, and falls at His feet. Who moved him to do that — the man himself, or the spirits inside him?
Every human method of control had already failed on him.
Second, the story shows how helpless man is to free himself, or others, from the power of Satan. Every effort to hold back this poor man's violence, or to tame him, failed. It is the same today. Every effort to hold back evil or reform the flesh fails completely. It cannot free the world from its violence and corruption. It cannot free the world from the power of Satan. And it cannot change the flesh.
The running is the surprise. Something drew him that the evil power inside him could not overrule.
He was drawn to run to the Lord Jesus despite the satanic power inside him. It is a strange puzzle that he worshipped Him. But it was the evil spirit that spoke inside him, all but denying that it had anything to do with the Lord Jesus, whom it calls "Jesus, Son of the Most High God." The very presence of the Lord tormented that evil spirit. The power of God drawing the man was infinitely stronger than the power of Satan.
If Satan did not send him running, how does Satan hold people? Not by raw force.
We may be quite sure that it was not the devil who brought him to the feet of Jesus. In this we get more than a hint of how the devil uses his power over those he works in. It is not the direct might and mastery of a stronger being. Bare force of that kind would not be allowed… It is not that the shining light fails to be evidence for all. No: the condemnation is that "the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light." They were not ignorant that the light was there. They loved and chose the darkness.
What he did has a name in the original text, and this account stands alone in the Gospels.
The man possessed by demons fell down flat before Jesus and did Him homage (proskuneo). This is the only recorded time that demons acknowledge the Lord Jesus in this way. (See also Mark 15:19; Luke 24:52; John 9:38).
Commentators differ on whose act it was. Some see the man drawn by grace while the spirit protested. Others see the demons forced to bow. What none of them dispute is that the sight of Christ, even at a distance, stopped him in his tracks.
The sight of the Lord Jesus even from afar arrested him, so that he ran and paid Him homage, and with a loud voice cried, What have I to do with Thee, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?
Mark does not say what was in the man's head as he ran. One writer weighs both options and settles on what the verse records.
The first effect of the presence of Jesus on that desolate shore was to draw the demon-possessed man to Him. When he saw the Lord at a distance he came running, crying out loudly. Did he come in a fit of fury, meaning to harm Him? Or did he come eager to seek deliverance from his miserable state? Whatever his first impulse was, in the presence of Jesus he fell down before Him and did Him homage.
One writer turns the man's running into a question for the reader. His older translation says the man "worshipped" Jesus.
With Jesus in the scene, the power of Satan is broken. "When he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and fell down before him." Reader, have you ever done so? I do not mean, do you go to church on Sunday, or "say your prayers." I mean this: have you ever, deep in your heart, owned and bowed to the One whom man has rejected, and whom God has put at His right hand in glory? Your salvation lies in this… Put yourself under His authority and power, and He will show that power on your behalf, to set you free.
The wildest man in the district ran toward Jesus. His sane, respectable neighbours did the opposite.
Yes, afraid of the One who breaks the devil's captivity! More afraid of Jesus and His grace than of the devil and his works!… The pigs and the demons were more welcome neighbours to them than the Son of God. They had never asked to be free from either. They did ask to be rid of Jesus. That is man. That is what the world was, and still is.
- Bound. No chain and no human effort could tame him. That failure is what makes his running so remarkable.
- Drawn. He ran despite the power inside him, because the pull of God was stronger than the grip of Satan.
- Bowed. The word for what he did is homage — falling flat before Jesus, the same act others offered Him in worship.
- Chosen. Satan holds people through a will that prefers darkness, not by brute force. Here that hold breaks.
- Contrasted. The possessed man ran to Christ; the townspeople begged Him to leave. Nearness to Jesus, not respectability, is what the chapter measures.
and crying with a loud voice he says, What have I to do with thee, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure thee by God, torment me not.
A man living among the tombs runs at Jesus and speaks. What follows is the sharpest confession of who Jesus is in this chapter — and it comes from a source that wants nothing to do with Him.
Some translations reverse the opening phrase: "What have I to do with you." Either way, commentators read it as a declaration that these two have nothing in common.
First, by the phrase "What have I to do with you?" the demon-possessed man expressed his own sense that darkness and light have nothing in common. He was conscious that there was nothing in common between himself and Jesus. This question appears elsewhere in both the Old Testament and the New with a similar meaning.
The man cries out in his own voice, yet the mind behind the words is not his.
The details of this passage are most instructive to us. Satan identified himself so fully with the man's mind that the man spoke as if voicing his own interests and wishes, while under Satan's influence. Yet he still sensed that a greater power was present.
Yet he ran toward the very Person he begged to leave him alone.
He was drawn to run to the Lord Jesus despite the satanic power inside him. Strangely, he even worshiped Him. But it was the evil spirit that spoke through him. It denied having anything to do with the Lord Jesus, whom it calls "Jesus, Son of the Most High God." And the Lord's very presence tormented that evil spirit. God's power in drawing the man was infinitely stronger than Satan's power.
The title answers a charge the Pharisees had made against Jesus.
The man from Gadara called Him aloud "Jesus, Son of the Most High God." By using this title he completely condemned the false charge of the Pharisees, who said that Jesus was under the control of the prince of the demons. It is striking to notice which divine title the demon-possessed man used. "Most High" appears in special connections in the Scriptures. It is the title of supreme rule over the earth. It is closely tied to the promises of God's rule in the millennium, when God will remove Satan's evil agents from the earth.
One writer sets this name beside the names God used in earlier times.
The Most High God is His proper name for the millennium. He was Almighty with the patriarchs, Jehovah with Israel, and Most High for the millennium.
The demon does not simply ask. It puts Jesus under an oath, using a solemn formula found elsewhere in Scripture.
A solemn charge by someone in authority, ordering another person to tell the truth under oath. Ahab put Micaiah under such a charge (1 Kings 22:16), and the high priest did the same to our Lord (Matthew 26:63). It also means binding a person under a curse to do, or not do, what is commanded.
The words are true, yet one thing is missing.
This confession by the man from Gadara spoke of the power of the Lord Jesus Christ, but not of His grace, because it never asked for His mercy. It was the confession of an evil spirit, not of a broken-hearted sinner… Not one word came from the lips of the man on the ground begging for mercy and forgiveness. The tax collector in the temple and blind Bartimaeus both cried for mercy, and God heard them, because grace and truth had come to deliver such people. But rebel spirits are already doomed and shut out from mercy… Still, the gracious Lord showed His mercy to this wretched man, though not to the unclean demons.
The demon believes and dreads. That is the warning.
Until a person receives life, how can he truly feel the weight of his sin? Until then, how can he know God's holy nature in any real way? He has no more than a dread of God. A pagan can have that much, and the evil spirits believe and tremble… They know all too well that there is no forgiveness for their rebellion. They believe Who Jesus is, and it does them no good.
- Confession — the words say truly who Jesus is. But an evil spirit speaks them, through a man whose mind Satan had taken over.
- Distance — the opening phrase says it plainly: light and darkness have nothing in common.
- Title — "Most High" is the name of God as supreme ruler over the earth. It points to a coming age when He rules and Satan's agents are gone.
- Lack — the confession names His power but never asks for His grace. The tax collector and Bartimaeus cried for mercy; these words do not.
- Warning — belief without a plea for mercy is the belief of demons; it is accurate, it trembles, and it saves nobody.