After their eventful night out on the water, Jesus and his disciples neared the opposite shore of the Sea of Galilee. Dawn was breaking over the horizon and they were, no doubt exhausted after a long night of excitement.
As they waded onto shore and hauled their boat onto the pebbled beach, they were confronted with yet another terrifying ordeal. Two men, crazed and naked rushed at them. Their hair was long and matted, their wrists bore the remnants of shackles that had been ripped apart. They shrieked and tore at their already bloodied flesh and their wild eyes fixed on Jesus and his disciples.
The men were well known to locals as being demoniacs. They lived among the tombs that dotted the hillsides that overlooked the sea and would often terrorize anyone that ventured along the winding paths that ran through the area.
Oppressed by terrible mental and emotional agony, inflicted upon them by the demons who possessed them, the men were known to mutilate themselves, tear off their clothing and rip apart any restraints that were used to bind them.
When the disciples saw these men tearing towards them their first instinct was to turn tail and run. They were probably emotionally and physically exhausted after the adrenaline rush of the night before. A nice warm meal and a soft bed were most likely the only things they really wanted and yet here they were being confronted by two mad men, who for all intents and purposes seemed to be possessed by devils.
This was not something they wanted to tackle. But as usual, Jesus’ response was different. He was probably as tired and as drained as his disciples were but the sight of the two men moved him to compassion instead of terror.
