A man too violent to be bound with any chain lives among the tombs, and the first thing Jesus asks him is his own name. A woman who has spent twelve years and every coin she owns on physicians reaches into a crowd and touches nothing but the edge of a robe. A synagogue ruler’s twelve-year-old daughter is pronounced dead while her father is still on the road home with the one Healer who could have saved her — and Jesus tells him not to be afraid of the news that just arrived.
A study in Mark 5 · Arthur Baldwin · StandUp4Jesus.Org · 33 min read
My Name Is Legion
Mark’s storm has barely finished rocking the boat before his readers are handed something worse than weather.
“And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, Who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains: Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones.”
Mark 5:1-5
Mark tells of one man; Matthew’s own account of this same landing names two. Mark keeps his attention on the more vocal of the pair — the one whose voice fills the rest of the scene and who becomes, before the chapter is finished, the district’s first missionary. The Gospels are not contradicting each other so much as choosing where to point the light; two men in torment, and one voice loud enough that Peter, Mark’s own source, never forgot it.
“In the early morning the Saviour and His companions came to shore, and the light of the rising sun touched sea and land as with the benediction of peace. But no sooner had they stepped upon the beach than their eyes were greeted by a sight more terrible than the fury of the tempest. From some hiding place among the tombs, two madmen rushed upon them as if to tear them in pieces. Hanging about these men were parts of chains which they had broken in escaping from confinement. Their flesh was torn and bleeding where they had cut themselves with sharp stones. Their eyes glared out from their long and matted hair, the very likeness of humanity seemed to have been blotted out by the demons that possessed them, and they looked more like wild beasts than like men.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 337
This site’s own study of Matthew 8 already followed this same crossing from the boat’s side of the story — the disciples’ terror on the water, and the region’s response once the herd was lost. Mark, closer to an eyewitness’s own memory of it, lingers instead on the man: what the years among the tombs had made of him, and what one word from Jesus was about to unmake.
“But when he saw Jesus afar off, he ran and worshipped him, And cried with a loud voice, and said, What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not. For he said unto him, Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit. And he asked him, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many. And he besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country.”
Mark 5:6-10
The disciples who came ashore with Him fled. Jesus did not.
“With authority He bade the unclean spirits come out of them. His words penetrated the darkened minds of the unfortunate men. They realized dimly that One was near who could save them from the tormenting demons. They fell at the Saviour’s feet to worship Him; but when their lips were opened to entreat His mercy, the demons spoke through them, crying vehemently, ‘What have I to do with Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of God most high? I beseech Thee, torment me not.’”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 337
A name is asked before a demon is cast out — not because Jesus needs the information, but because the man behind the name has had no voice of his own in longer than anyone can remember. What answers is not a name at all. It is a number wearing a man’s face.
“Now there was there nigh unto the mountains a great herd of swine feeding. And all the devils besought him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them. And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea, (they were about two thousand;) and were choked in the sea.”
Mark 5:11-13
“Jesus asked, ‘What is thy name?’ And the answer was, ‘My name is Legion: for we are many.’ Using the afflicted men as mediums of communication, they besought Jesus not to send them out of the country. Upon a mountainside not far distant a great herd of swine was feeding. Into these the demons asked to be allowed to enter, and Jesus suffered them. Immediately a panic seized the herd. They rushed madly down the cliff, and, unable to check themselves upon the shore, plunged into the lake, and perished.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 338
Mark’s own word for it — that same “immediately” already familiar from this chapter’s first verse — times the whole catastrophe in a single breath. A legion of demons had begged for permission and were granted it; the request itself is the last power they get to exercise, and even that ends in the sea.
Go Home To Thy Friends
“And they that fed the swine fled, and told it in the city, and in the country. And they went out to see what it was that was done. And they come to Jesus, and see him that was possessed with the devil, and had the legion, sitting, and clothed, and in his right mind: and they were afraid. And they that saw it told them how it befell to him that was possessed with the devil, and also concerning the swine.”
Mark 5:14-17
“Meanwhile a marvelous change had come over the demoniacs. Light had shone into their minds. Their eyes beamed with intelligence. The countenances, so long deformed into the image of Satan, became suddenly mild, the bloodstained hands were quiet, and with glad voices the men praised God for their deliverance.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 338
Two thousand head of swine are a fortune, and a whole district has just watched that fortune drown. What the crowd feels first is not wonder at the healed man sitting quietly at Jesus’s feet — it is the loss. Fear, not gratitude, is what sends them begging Him to leave.
“And they began to pray him to depart out of their coasts. And when he was come into the ship, he that had been possessed with the devil prayed him that he might be with him. Howbeit Jesus suffered him not, but saith unto him, Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee. And he departed, and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men did marvel.”
Mark 5:18-20
“But far different was the feeling of the restored demoniacs. They desired the company of their deliverer. In His presence they felt secure from the demons that had tormented their lives and wasted their manhood. As Jesus was about to enter the boat, they kept close to His side, knelt at His feet, and begged Him to keep them near Him, where they might ever listen to His words. But Jesus bade them go home and tell what great things the Lord had done for them.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 339
Every other person Jesus heals in the Gospels is free to go back to an ordinary life. This man asks to stay and is sent away instead — not from the disciples’ company, but into the one mission field his own past uniquely qualifies him for. No one in Decapolis could doubt what Legion had been. No one could doubt, either, what had unmade him.
Thy Faith Hath Made Thee Whole
“Returning from Gergesa to the western shore, Jesus found a multitude gathered to receive Him, and they greeted Him with joy. He remained by the seaside for a time, teaching and healing, and then repaired to the house of Levi-Matthew to meet the publicans at the feast.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 342
The same tax collector’s house whose call this series already told in Mark 2 is where Jairus finds Him.
“And when Jesus was passed over again by ship unto the other side, much people gathered unto him: and he was nigh unto the sea. And, behold, there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name; and when he saw him, he fell at his feet, And besought him greatly, saying, My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed; and she shall live. And Jesus went with him; and much people followed him, and thronged him.”
Mark 5:21-24
“Though the disciples had seen so many of His works of mercy, they were surprised at His compliance with the entreaty of the haughty rabbi; yet they accompanied their Master, and the people followed, eager and expectant. The ruler’s house was not far distant, but Jesus and His companions advanced slowly, for the crowd pressed Him on every side. The anxious father was impatient of delay; but Jesus, pitying the people, stopped now and then to relieve some suffering one, or to comfort a troubled heart.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 342
Jairus is a ruler of the very synagogue system that has already accused Jesus four separate times in this Gospel’s second chapter. His title does not buy his daughter a faster walk. Somewhere in that same slow, pressing crowd is a woman his rank would never have noticed.
“And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years, And had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, When she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment. For she said, If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole. And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague.”
Mark 5:25-29
This site’s own study of Matthew 9 already told this healing from that Gospel’s shorter angle. Mark and Luke, the two physicians of the Gospel-writing company in their own separate ways, are the ones who preserve the twelve years, the many physicians, and the money spent down to nothing.
“On the way to the ruler’s house, Jesus had met, in the crowd, a poor woman who for twelve years had suffered from a disease that made her life a burden. She had spent all her means upon physicians and remedies, only to be pronounced incurable. But her hopes revived when she heard of the cures that Christ performed. She felt assured that if she could only go to Him she would be healed.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 343
“Fearful of losing her one chance of relief, she pressed forward, saying to herself, ‘If I may but touch His garment, I shall be whole.’ As He was passing, she reached forward, and succeeded in barely touching the border of His garment. But in that moment she knew that she was healed. In that one touch was concentrated the faith of her life, and instantly her pain and feebleness gave place to the vigor of perfect health.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 343
Twelve years of failed treatment had taught her exactly how much attention she could expect to receive by asking outright. She did not ask. In a crowd thick enough to press the breath out of a person, she reached for the one thing she thought she could take without anyone noticing — and Jesus noticed anyway.
“And Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned him about in the press, and said, Who touched my clothes? And his disciples said unto him, Thou seest the multitude thronging thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me? And he looked round about to see her that had done this thing. But the woman fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth. And he said unto her, Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.”
Mark 5:30-34
“Looking toward the woman, Jesus insisted on knowing who had touched Him. Finding concealment vain, she came forward tremblingly, and cast herself at His feet. With grateful tears she told the story of her suffering, and how she had found relief. Jesus gently said, ‘Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.’”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 344
Jesus could have let her slip away healed and unnoticed. He stops the whole procession instead, with a dying girl still waiting at the end of it, because a healing kept secret would have left her with no assurance beyond her own body’s testimony. He wants her known, not merely well — the last thing she hears from Him is not a diagnosis but a relationship: “Daughter.”
Talitha Cumi
Every moment spent on the woman is a moment Jairus does not have.
“While he yet spake, there came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house certain which said, Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further? As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe. And he suffered no man to follow him, save Peter, and James, and John the brother of James.”
Mark 5:35-37
The word Jairus dreaded most has just reached him, and Jesus answers it before Jairus can even speak — not with a diagnosis of how much hope is left, but with a command about what to do with the little that seems to be. Faith is not asked to ignore the report. It is asked to outlast it.
“And he cometh to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and seeth the tumult, and them that wept and wailed greatly. And when he was come in, he saith unto them, Why make ye this ado, and weep? the damsel is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed him to scorn.”
Mark 5:38-40
“Already the hired mourners and flute players were there, filling the air with their clamor. The presence of the crowd, and the tumult jarred upon the spirit of Jesus. He tried to silence them, saying, ‘Why make ye this ado, and weep? the damsel is not dead, but sleepeth.’ They were indignant at the words of the Stranger. They had seen the child in the embrace of death, and they laughed Him to scorn.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 343
Hired grief is loud and certain of itself. It has no room left in it for a stranger’s claim that the certainty is wrong.
“Requiring them all to leave the house, Jesus took with Him the father and mother of the maiden, and the three disciples, Peter, James, and John, and together they entered the chamber of death. Jesus approached the bedside, and, taking the child’s hand in His own, He pronounced softly, in the familiar language of her home, the words, ‘Damsel, I say unto thee, arise.’”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 343
Mark alone preserves the actual Aramaic Jesus used at her bedside — the household language of a twelve-year-old girl, the words her own mother would have used to wake her on an ordinary morning.
“And he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise. And straightway the damsel arose, and walked; for she was of the age of twelve years. And they were astonished with a great astonishment. And he charged them straitly that no man should know it; and commanded that something should be given her to eat.”
Mark 5:41-43
“Instantly a tremor passed through the unconscious form. The pulses of life beat again. The lips unclosed with a smile. The eyes opened widely as if from sleep, and the maiden gazed with wonder on the group beside her. She arose, and her parents clasped her in their arms, and wept for joy.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 343
Only three disciples and two parents see it happen, and Jesus’s very next instruction, after raising the dead, is that the girl should be given something to eat — the most ordinary care in the world, offered in the same breath as the most extraordinary miracle in the chapter. Greatness in this Gospel keeps stooping to the smallest details of the people it touches.
“The wondering crowd that pressed close about Christ realized no accession of vital power. But when the suffering woman put forth her hand to touch Him, believing that she would be made whole, she felt the healing virtue. So in spiritual things. To talk of religion in a casual way, to pray without soul hunger and living faith, avails nothing.”
Ellen G. White · The Desire of Ages, p. 347
A whole crowd jostles against Him and nothing happens. One trembling hand reaches out believing, and everything changes. A whole household weeps and mocks by turns and nothing happens, until faith alone is left in the room with the One who called it there. Mark’s chapter began with a legion that could not stand before Him and ends with a twelve-year-old girl who rises the moment He takes her hand — two kinds of power meeting the same Man, immediately, and neither one able to answer Him back.
