Читать книгу My First Exorcism - Harold Ristau - Страница 10

That evening they brought to him many who were oppressed by demons, and he cast out the spirits with a word and healed all who were sick. (Matt 8:16)

If there were a list of the top 10 things not to do while exorcizing a demon, one of the first would read: “Have a conversation with it.” Though I made many others, that mistake was not one of them. I was, however, tempted. I will explain later.

I was nineteen years of age when I first heard a devil speak. I befriended a classmate, who had survived a life of various kinds of abuse, coupled with a wide range of experimentation with illegal drugs and accented by regular forays into the satanic arts. I have given her the pseudonym “Lisa.” I suspected that she was not altogether normal by her occasional zone-outs in which she would fall into a seeming trance. Her eyes would tenuously fog over as she deafened herself to my voice. An aura of concentration would overtake her facial expression as if she were listening to another speaker, even though we were alone. It was my first exposure to this kind of parapsychological phenomena. An acquaintance of mine displayed almost identical behaviour. He too was involved in the occult. In both cases, the episodes did not last more than a minute and the victim had no recollection of what had just transpired.

There was no question in my mind that these individuals were oppressed by something demonic. The peculiar displays were distressing, but I had no doubts that Jesus Christ was victorious over the devil and his evil hosts. One collect for Easter boldly states how by His death on the cross and His glorious resurrection we have been delivered from the enemy camp rendering all of Satan’s power ineffectual. Confirmed in the Lutheran Church, I full-heartedly believed that every Christian had the authority and power to rebuke the evil tyrant, and this included counteracting his physical manifestations. Even at a young age we learned about the implications of the “communication of attributes” from the divine nature to the human nature of Christ. The word “Christology” may not have been uttered in our Sunday school class, but the notion was presupposed even in pre-adolescence. Derived from the logic of an early church council at Chalcedon in AD 451, the genus maiestaticum summarizes how the divine attributes are delivered to the human nature of the person of Christ due to its personal union with His divinity. This theological language may seem esoteric to the laity, but when one patiently unpacks the concepts and reverently reflects upon their elating claims, even the simplest child is filled with both mesmerizing awe and heart-warming comfort. Jesus’ divine Word, deployed from human lips, stills storms. Wow! Due to the incarnation, the powers of God are not locked away in heaven. They have vanished from human sight but are still actively expressed through physical means. For instance, after His resurrection, the man Jesus passes through locked doors. He is witnessed appearing and disappearing. These are properties reserved for spirits. Yet Jesus is not a ghost. He is a man, and remains a man. In order to defuse their doubts, the Lord chooses to eat with His disciples. He does the same today as His omnipresence continues to be employed by means of His human nature. He remains present in the flesh of His body and blood through Eucharistic celebrations at all times and at all places. He is always fully, and not partially, with us. The grip of evil may oscillate, but the presence of God never fluctuates. His nearness is not a yo-yo contingent upon our shifting prayers or lack of holy inner qualities. He is a God who has become man, entirely. He remains fully human—yet mostly hidden. The birth of Christ, which assumed all flesh in Himself, and His subsequent redemptive works culminating on Good Friday has re-dignified our human nature in general and our Christian bodies in particular. We are, after all, His body. Hence, those divine attributes and powers are, in a mystical and mysterious sense, our possession. My words can now frighten the demons by both form and content: they protrude from fleshly lips redeemed by Christ, the God-man, and they carry a divine message originating in the heavenly city. When God made humankind in His image, He knew that one day He would assume that very image in its entirety by the virgin birth.

I sometimes wonder whether or not the devil is jealous that God did not assume the form of an angel. In C.S. Lewis’ science-fiction novel, Out of the Silent Planet, the aliens on other planets (who also worship the Triune God) are dumbfounded and bewildered in their first meeting with a human being. Here before them stood the unique creature whose form the boundless Creator of the universe had assumed! God became man! The Creator had incorporated human beings into His life and Being. The authority that belonged to Christ had been communicated to His people and, to some extent, so had His capabilities.

That being said, what I didn’t know then but do know now, is that the “priesthood of all believers” doesn’t qualify every Christian to do all the same works in all the same places and at all the same times. Every part of Christ’s body battles the devil to different degrees, and to ignore distinctions between members is a very dangerous business indeed. Roman Catholic canon law forbids the laity any use of formulas of exorcism or their corresponding sacramentals (e.g. exorcized salt, oil and water). The exorcists undergo professional training. Even those who possess a certain charisma or gift of sensitivity for detecting demonic presence (and deciphering diabolical possession from, say, psychological illness) must have a reputation for being humble, prayerful and rejecters of money and theatrics, before they are publicly acknowledged and commissioned.14 Although we may find some of these restrictions legalistic, one must never forget that an exorcist acts on behalf of the Church at large—the Church militant—and not as an individual. For the same reason, the catholic and apostolic Church has authorized only ordained priests to preside over the mass and only divinely called pastors to preach publicly. When lay people attempt demonic warfare in a non-transparent and private manner, they deprive themselves of the full power and capacity offered by the Church universal. “If all were a single member, where would the body be?” (1 Cor 12:19) This happened to be my error with Lisa.

+ + +

Lisa fell into one of her trances as we strolled out of her mother’s dilapidated bungalow and passed in front of the weathered garage door. It was mid-summer, early afternoon. After a few steps, she froze in a stupor, except for her arms that swayed at her sides like rubber bands. Standing still as a mannequin, her head fell forward, motionless. This time, in this trance, something was different. She was not herself. More accurately, she was not there at all—something else was. I stepped away from her and asked God for guidance through a very short prayer with my eyes wide open. I had nothing to lose. I felt a bit paranoid, especially if it all turned out to be an immature prank. I began to address—what I thought might be—a demon. A wave of terror swept over me and I broke into a cold sweat. It all seemed so surreal. Lisa started to tremble slightly, head still hanging low, her face hidden under a veil of thick dark hair masking her sinking frame. To my surprise, I heard a deep voice protrude from a mouth that normally produced a high-pitched tone. It stated simply, “she’s mine,” after which the host resumed her ordinary state. No foaming at the mouth or 360 degree head spins. Yet those two simple words spoken in the third person sent chills up my spine. What an accurate expression summarizing its possession: “she’s mine.” It turned out that it was right.

St. Augustine, who is one of the first Christians to develop a formalized “demonology,” describes demons as discontented entities. Despising their creaturely status and envying human beings, they seek to enter human bodies and take residence therein, like a thief breaking into a house. Their ability to succeed is partially determined by whether or not the owner has left the door unlocked, or even left it swung wide open in an inviting manner. Actually “demon possession” is etymologically misrepresentative. Satan can never “possess” anything entirely (at best he can “borrow”) since the one true God remains the giver of all things. He alone retains the exclusive title of “Maker.” In the end, it is the devil’s greatest frustration.15 He remains a creature in spite of his ambition to become the Creator. Even hell is not under his rule. There, he suffers worse than all. In short, the demons feel themselves to be unfulfilled, dissatisfied with their place in life, driving them to usurp that of other creatures.16 But no matter where they are or what they do, they will never abide in joy. It sounds all too familiar. We too share in this error in our unhappiness with regards to our stations in life: jealous of our neighbours’ success or vocations, wife or husband, home, children, and whatever else belongs to him or her. We fraternize with the league of demons in our nebulous longing for membership in a more “suitable” church, life in a flashier city, the salary of a more lucrative job paired with a more exalted position, and all the other sins against the last commandments. We unobtrusively grumble, “If only I was God, I would do things differently.” Lucifer shared this same sentiment even before our creation.

+ + +

The nature of a demon is a subject worth pondering. The word “demon” comes from the Greek daimon, which can be translated as “instrument” or “tool.” Ironically, demons do not want to be what they are. Loathing their instrumentality, they reject their place in the cosmological hierarchy. Our Lord warns, “When you see the abomination of desolation standing where he ought not to be (let the reader understand), then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains” (Mark 13:14). Unlike their angelic brothers, they refuse to remain God’s messengers and helpers, taking residence in places to which they are not assigned. Along with punk rock star Iggy Pop, they “lust for life,” but not their own. They want ours. Like us human beings, they are dissatisfied with their position in life. They reject their identity as servants and wish to seize the place of the king. They abhor being “used” and lust to be “ends,” even though that unique position is already fulfilled by God Himself who is the single end of all things.

The Lord is the sole source of peace, rest, love, and joy although the demons adamantly deny it (while we often resist it). Accordingly, every creature’s fulfilment is uniquely in Him. Even unbelievers know this to be true intuitively. The secular world too has its prophets. The novels of Henry James and Ernest Hemingway impart a message that all human choices lead to dissatisfaction. A disproportionate number of poets commit suicide. True peace and rest for the Christian are found solely in God because, at the end of the day, at the end of our life, at the end of the world, we have one single use. Just as a light bulb finds satisfaction solely in an electrical socket, having no other use, so too, worship is the manner in which human beings are plugged into God, their unique source of eternal contentment. But due to our sinful and corrupt nature we have allied ourselves with the devil, a false plug and empty hole: the begetter of death, robber of life, root of all evil and vice, instigator of envy, font of avarice, fomenter of discord, and author of all pain and sorrow. We are clueless to the fact that our simple dissatisfactions betray our true allegiance. Yet just like the demons, we do not want to be what we are. Notwithstanding our identity as children of light we are all too easily attracted to the shadows and the darkness. The rhetoric of human servanthood and instrumentality rings inherently offensive, suggesting images of oppression by eighteenth-century slave drivers mistreating their human property. Characteristic of the demonic is scorn of one’s true identity and spurn of one’s place and role in God’s order. Accordingly, demons are riotous monsters of chaos. In the Eastern Church sin is not described in terms of a deliberate wilful opposition to God. Instead, the sinful nature is framed within a discourse of man’s inability to know himself and God clearly: a confusion of identity. During one exorcism, a demon was quoted describing hell in the following way:

Everyone lives folded within himself and torn apart by his regrets. There is no relationship with anyone; everyone finds himself in the most profound solitude and desperately weeps for the evil that he has committed.17

For creatures that find their satisfaction, fulfilment and peace in something that lies outside of their own personhood, hell is the absolute expression of navel-gazing—useless.

According to St. Augustine, demons are restless and confused creatures. Therefore, they never enjoy peace. To put things very mildly, they are like spoiled bratty children who don’t get their way and throw a tantrum—for eternity. Still, they remain more powerful and clever than a neighbourhood bully, devoting themselves to pulling the rest of God’s creation into their self-created misery. Their followers are residents of “Babylon,” Hebrew for “confusion.” Augustine’s City of God summarizes the demonic error as a mixing up of “use” with “enjoyment” which occurs through the confusion of all orders in life.18 For example, an anti-rational society steered by sensation and hyper-romance is apt to confuse ontological distinctions essential to the maintenance of healthy relationships. There are four distinctive words for ‘love’ in Greek. English has collapsed them all into one, with grave consequences. What is bestiality or pedophilia other than a confusion of philia (friendship) or storge (affection) with eros, from which we obtain the word “erotic”? Defenders of these perversions are, nevertheless, sincere. The discipline of economics stresses how the stock market is only as stable as it is perceived to be. Reality becomes anecdotal to the truth. Feelings and perceptions are mutually dependent. They can both be sincere, but still misplaced. Demons are fixated on muddling up and confusing God’s order through their relentless pursuit of turning our love for the Creator (agape) towards creation, with the result of devising new gods in our own image.

The Augustinian monk, Martin Luther, would later apply this theorem to pastoral care. Specifically, he accentuated how the mixing up of theological concepts and their implicit orders, such as the fundamental differences between things pertaining to the realm of Law and those of the Gospel (i.e. confusing the commands and promises of God), was evil and harmful.19 Confusing the letter that kills with the spirit that gives life is spiritual suicide (2 Cor 3:6). Accordingly, the God-fearing navigator fluctuates between the poles of what we ought to do but are unable, and what Christ has done on our behalf and in our stead. For example, the question regarding what “Jesus would do” in any particular moral instance provides little guidance in the cogitations of our ethical decision-making. Routinely boycotting a company’s products because of their link to abuse in the developing world presumes the existence of morally uncontaminated multinationals. How do our political alliances shift when Palestinian Christians outnumber Messianic Jews? Moreover, innocent children huddle on both sides of barbed-wire fences, regarded by armies as potential adults and eventual threats. We live interdependently with a corrupted global network paralyzing all ability to react in a holy manner. I am not perfect. I am also not the invincible holy Son of God. This does not excuse me to do the wrong thing but offers a compelling explanation for the limits of doing the right thing. Because of the poisonous repercussions of the fall from Eden, all of one’s good moral behaviour is perverted to some extent. A work may still be good (as all good deeds arising from a Christian heart—as saint, not as sinner—are labelled fruits of God’s Holy Spirit), but my motives are never entirely pure. The Old Adam remains within me until death. My deeds are not the problem; I am. I can give a magnanimous contribution to a charity, and it will likely do much good objectively. Yet some of my motivations are selfish. My generous donation may make me feel good, may demonstrate my importance at making a global difference, may assuage guilt, might provide proof that I am better than someone else, etc. Lex semper accusat: the Law always accuses us of our sin, exposing our inadequacy even with regards to our best attempts at fulfilling a divine rule. Evil stems from the corrupt heart. Where does that leave us? We are left with a great hope: naked and eager receptors of the Good News. The Gospel forgives our sins, exonerates our wrongs, and covers our unrighteousness with the merits of Christ. The Law has been fulfilled by Him, but credited to us. Some call this “imputed righteousness.” Man is pure, not because of what he has done, but because of what has been done unto him. It terrifies all the hordes of hell, who may laugh at man’s efforts to behave purely but now lay vanquished before the works of Jesus Christ.

Distracting man from this wonderful and life-altering Gospel announcement is an archetypal strategy for Satan. Demonic confusion penetrates our belief system when we think that our forgiveness is conditional on our works of the Law. It annuls a justification by grace through faith, which is the foundational doctrine to Christ’s holy Church. Nothing pleases the devil more than believers convinced that they are saved by their works and not by grace alone. Eastern Christians disapprove of a Lutheran hermeneutic that dichotomizes faith and works, and even accuse it of subsiding incongruously with church history and the New Testament. Although Lutherans believe that salvation is by faith alone, they do not believe that it is by a faith that is alone. Yet, the theological distinction must be maintained. Otherwise, a treacherous merging of the quintessential doctrine of justification with sanctification occurs, partially pinning the assurance of the believer’s saintly status in his or her own holiness as opposed to Christ’s. Jesus Christ has clothed Himself with our sins, while we have dressed ourselves with His mantle of righteousness. The devil schemes to “cross-dress” these gowns. Some Eastern Orthodox who find the Lutheran fixation on the Second Person of the Holy Trinity to be slightly unbalanced, also discover St. Paul to be too “judicious” in his perception of the atonement. Nevertheless, the dialogue of life is permeated with dichotomies. The tension and friction intrinsic to our daily experiences of sin and grace, justice and mercy, and Law and Gospel are the uneven cobble stones beneath the war-torn feet of the human venture, a yin-yang that shapes our individual paths. There are multifarious ways to articulate the dichotomous relationship within the paradox while still remaining faithful to the dialectic. But when the two notions are twisted apart, mixed together or interchanged, the devil has achieved his ultimate goal.

Yet demonic confusion is not limited to individual human experience. Martin Luther observed the same kinds of confusions in the socio-political spheres, between the Two Kingdoms—God’s rule on earth through both the instruments of the Church and those of the government. For example, the religious crusades were guilty of the same demonic error as the Social Gospel is today. They were attempts at turning temporal realities into eternal realities, or eternalizing temporal ones. Constantine’s objective of erecting the first “Christian state” resembled the same thinking patterns of his contemporary pagans, despite his good intentions. All theocracies seek to materialize heavenly realities on earth. Although some of the crusades were politically motivated and even justifiable considering the threat of Islamic expansion, others were clearly driven by a view of spiritual conquest. Conquering the Holy Land embodied a physical victory over the spiritual dark forces. Still today, the Vatican is not just a church, but a state. The issue lies deeper than a cynical mixing of politics and religion, but exemplifies how easily the tools that belong to one realm can be mistakenly applied for use in the other. Years later, emerging from his exile at the Wartburg castle, Martin Luther was horrified to discover that his colleague Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt, in an effort to crush what he believed to be the worship of idols, had begun a rampage breaking all religious images, stained glass and statues of the saints. Luther rebuked him not only for demonically confusing the realms of inward cleanliness through such abominable outward behaviour, but also blamed him for the evil results: the unleashing of the Peasants’ Revolt of 1524, an anarchistic and bombastic crusade against all authorities, both secular and religious, as a means for the lower classes to ‘upgrade’ their stations in life.

Political theorist Michael Waltzer addresses this phenomenon in his book Spheres of Justice: A Defense of Pluralism and Equality, arguing that the use of the instruments of one sphere in the other is the source of all acts of injustice. For example, during the inquisition, the physical sword was enlisted to drive out heresies even though doctrinal disputes ought to have been fought with the spiritual sword of the Word of God. The inquisition was well-intentioned: torturing and murdering the body in order to mitigate the more severe pains of purgatory. The confused use of physical methods to influence the spiritual realm is rooted in a skewed (i.e. demonic) anthropology with regards to the relationship between body and soul. Neo-Gnostic heresy—that one’s bodily health reflects the status of one’s soul20—yields many disciples and assumes various ill-boding epiphanies today. Although democracy should not determine church doctrine and practice, the importation of democratic principles from the kingdom of the Left to the Right21 offers endless examples. Similarly, religious rhetoric does not cease to impregnate the kingdom of the Left. Democracy preaches that everyone is equal. Import this truism to the kingdom of the Right and everyone becomes a minister. Notwithstanding a spiritual equality between Christians through the “priesthood of all believers,” any former distinctions between the laity and clergy become irretrievable. But are all people entitled to everything all the time and in all places? Most political revolutions, no matter how bloody, are hailed as inevitable due to the fact that they sought to assure liberty, justice and equal rights for all. It becomes unthinkable that a compassionate God would not bless a well-meaning revolt. The logic of the radical reformation reigns. Subordination, in all of its expressions is considered undemocratic. All forms of inequality observed in the Church, household, or society, are viewed with bitter vehemence. Demonic neo-Gnostic tendencies expressed through the modern feminist movement seek to overturn the order of creation and confuse it with the corollaries of the order of redemption, exposing the Church to the critique that it is, secretly, a misogynist institution. In accordance with this thinking, how can the Church be understood as anything other than sexist? Sexual organs are perceived as regrettable accidents of gender, providing no window into how men and women exist as different expressions of humanity. A feminization of gender is only one of the results of the demonic confusion between the Two Kingdoms.

In summary, demons remain messengers and servants, but of a master of their own crooked construction. Because they have strayed from the Truth and twisted the good, they are naturally liars and vindictive. Incidentally, because demons are liars, exorcists are even trained to limit the questions that they pose to them, lest they be manipulated by their lies. Some demons pretend to be holy angels, saints or the souls of the deceased. However, they are all deceivers and corrupters. Unsurprisingly, they are frustrated creatures, because, in spite of their resistance and sedition, they are still God’s servants. Whether they like it or not, their creator still uses them for His divine purposes. Ironically, despite their reputation as rebels, the fallen angels remain God’s slaves. The Holy Scriptures state how God permits the devil to test us (Rev 2:10) and purify us (1 Cor 5:5). Even St. Paul was afflicted with a thorn in the flesh, a “messenger from Satan,” in order to keep him from “becoming conceited” (2 Cor 12:7). Evidently, Christians are also susceptible to demonic subjection. God uses His enemies for a greater purpose even though they may be unaware. The sufferings of Job, the sending of the angel of death in Egypt, the appointment of Judas, Caiaphas and all the calloused characters implicated in the crucifixion of our Lord exemplify both the Almighty’s sovereignty, and His desire that, for those who love Him, all things work together for the good (Rom 8:28). Likewise Christ commands “Do not resist the one who is evil” (Matt 5:39). However unwillingly, the devil remains a tool in the hand of his Maker, echoed by the Church that still sings: “Satan you wicked one, own now your master.”22 Though forever dismissed from his prestigious position in the heavenly courts, the evil foe is unable to cease working for God as a slave. Thus, all his tactics against the faithful backfire with counterproductive results. Many of those once diabolically possessed confess an enriched relationship with God after their liberation. In fact, Dr. Martin Luther referred to the devil as the best teacher of theology,23 because he drives despairing Christians to prayer and to the Holy Spirit. Like all Fathers of the Church Luther was not always right, but this concept expounds profound Christian genius. The devil cannot help but help us. By accusing us with the Law, God allows Lucifer to haul out the dark sinful critters and pests of our lives, only to be exterminated by the light radiating from our Saviour’s blood-stained cross while their carcasses are swept away by the unending flood of grace flowing from His empty tomb. Defeated, yet full of frustrated rage, the devil continues to lash out against the friends of his enemies. But with no hope for a final victory, all of his efforts are desperate reactions enacted with a weathered and pathetic tail hanging between his legs.

+ + +

Humankind’s banishment from the Garden of Eden may appear vindictive and evil at first: the act of an angry and malicious God. Yet Adam and Eve were not merely punished for committing some trivial wrong. Their poor decision-making has perilous implications for the destiny of all of us. They had broken off fellowship with God. Impure and unclean, God’s holy presence became a dangerous one for these first humans and all of their descendants. So God decides to do something radical. They had done enough. Consistent with His fatherly instinct of cleaning up a child’s mess, God exiles Adam and Eve from His garden—His table—for their own safety. He loves them so much that, against His very life-giving nature, He Himself heart-wrenchingly kills—sacrifices—one of the innocent beasts that He had just created in order to clothe them (I have a hunch that it was a lamb). Moreover, He curses the evil one and promises a saviour, as well as mercifully offering us His protective presence until our severed relationship with Him could finally be repaired on that first Good Friday. As strange as it may sound, God was compelled to hand us over to evil for our own good. For the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil. Now, lest Adam reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever” (Gen 3:22), the King of kings excommunicated him from His royal garden. This consequential decision reflects the deepest of love, for the one tree gave access to the other. Had our Lord not taken these extreme and painful measures, we would have obliviously continued nourishing ourselves on the tree of life which would have immortalized our sinful state. Our “out-casting” delivered us from living eternity as sinners. Instead, we were rescued from ourselves and offered the antidote for our sin through the gift of Christ via the pill of Holy Baptism. By His cross we now have access once again to the tree of life, which immortalizes our saintly state when we eat of its fruits from the table of His holy altar. On the Last Day, when we behold God and the harvest of joy amassed from our sowing of tears, all tiring trials and agitating questions will disappear from memory, relinquishing their importance, as all things pure become absorbed in divine glorious beauty.

Although suffering is a divine tool and gift, which, when understood theologically, makes a lot of sense, the devil induces us to despise it by employing a “human reasoning” that Martin Luther rightly called “the devil’s whore.” While our logic deters us from embracing it— after all, everyone aspires to be on the winning team—suffering and God are a necessary unity which, alone, provide elementary shape and honest meaning to human existence. The impassibility of God does not preclude the fact that He still hurts, and His Spirit still grieves. Even if Christianity weren’t true, it would still be the most enlightened religion. It uniquely resonates with the human condition, offering no beatific or idyllic vision of our depraved temporal existence. It boldly proclaims the unsinkable truth that we are, and remain, a broken race for which its creator suffers and dies. At the cross, God is emptied. His heart is pierced, drained, so that there would be room for us. Through the fountain of sweet water and the flood of quenching blood that spills from the Saviour’s open side (John 19:34), the Holy Spirit draws all who suffer to Him who suffered for them. Though separately they bear on their aching bodies the still throbbing marks of Jesus’ tender scars, together they rejoice in their common share in one holy mystical stigmata.

People who complain about a distant God who does not understand suffering need to be reminded that, remarkably, the very book He has authored includes incriminating material which, at first glance, seems to call into question God’s love. The complaints of Job echo emotions that all people feel. Yet these divine self-disclosures are not recorded in the Bible in order to cast doubt upon the impeccably merciful character of God. Rather they demonstrate that our transcendent God is also immanent, and is well aware of our utmost feelings and frustration with suffering, sin, illness and death; that hidden beyond the recesses of time, is a meaning and information to which we have not necessarily been made privy. Job never becomes aware of the life lesson underlying his suffering. But we do. And his experience has acted as a source of comfort to innumerable believers since. Despite appearances of the diabolical, God Himself is present, shepherding His people into His kingdom. Consequently, the devil is the chief victim of his own traps. “When the devil kicks, he is struck,” an Eastern patriarch once observed. Like each and every plan of Wile E. Coyote’s to catch his arch-nemesis, the Road Runner, explodes in his face, the crucifixion is the tumultuous trigger and culmination of conquest within the cosmological dual. The Almighty had reduced Himself to a worm and not a man (Ps 22:6), a strategic manoeuvre in the activation of the final snare for the evil one. He becomes the bait on the hook of the cross, luring the devil to take a fatal bite. Sparing His wandering sheep from a destiny that we well deserve, Jesus, the Shepherd and the Lamb, fills the mouth of the hungry wolf with His own fiery flesh. Yet unable to swallow this hallowed unfamiliar meat, the beast chokes on his ultimate prize. He who once lured humankind in one garden by a poisonous fruit, is himself tempted to take and eat of a poisonous fruit, Jesus Christ who hangs on the tree of the cross in the garden of Calvary. After all, to some, the sacramental presence of our Lord’s body brings life; to others, death (1 Cor 11:9). For this very reason, some exorcists carry a pyx containing the consecrated host to strike terror into the ancient dragon.

The Eastern Orthodox Church criticizes the imaginative similitudes of the economy of salvation, such as those imbibed from St. Anselm. The idea of God paying a ransom to the purging fires of hell or duping a fish all seem to diminish the sovereignty of God through inappropriate analogies of mythological semblance. Yet, although all human comparisons are naturally limited, such didactic metaphors and analogies offer ways of elucidating the unavoidable vicarious sacrifice required by an uncompromising system of justice put in place by God Himself. Both justice and grace are cheapened when theologians appeal to God’s omnipotent ability to surpass the principles that He Himself has established through rhetorical questions such as “Can God create a rock heavier than He could lift?” Our God is not a showman, but rather a gentleman. He has honourably bound Himself to the same system in which He has established us. He is a general who fights alongside the troops on the battlefield and not from the headquarters in a distant country. If, however, the allegorical illustrations do represent the devil as having the upper hand, then that does convey its own incident of confusion.

+ + +

All incidents of confusion are, in a sense, demonic. It shouldn’t have surprised me then that those frightening yet curious words “she’s mine” from Lisa’s lips were followed by a wild and exhausting month of demonic encounters and emotional chaos. My inexperience was betrayed in the creative methods I employed in attempting to free her of her satanic visitors, techniques largely learned from Hollywood movies and popular culture. My failure climaxed with her delirious attempt to throw herself out of a moving vehicle under the influence of the enemy. For the first time, the demon stared me in the eyes with cold spiteful darkened pupils of vexation, an image that I will carry with me to the grave. Amidst the falling ethereal darkness, a single lurid light beam from the passenger-side window coloured her progressively hardening face framing two gleaming empty holes. They were surging knives aspiring to pierce my innermost vulnerabilities. Repelled by this incredulous sneer and glance of scornful defiance, I grabbed her arm with a single-handed savage grip of desperation, while miraculously averting a collision with another vehicle. In the end, I dropped her off at an evangelical center that specialized in exorcisms with the hopes that they were less ill-equipped than I. It helped a bit. But the demons remained.

After further study of the topic in pursuit of some permanent solution, I eventually inquired into the status of Lisa’s baptism. She told me that she was christened. “If she belonged to God, how could she remain possessed by an intruder?” I wondered. She seemed to honestly desire liberation. I was puzzled. Later I discovered that her pagan mother had baptized her in their upstairs bathtub after her birth because she didn’t like organized religion. Did it count? Was it even Trinitarian? I am still unsure. The words do matter, more than one may believe. Some of us don’t like to talk about a bad day at work, because it is like we are onerously reliving the irksome events—which were bad enough the first time around. The devil too hates hearing the Gospel story. But for him it is not just an astringent reminder. He actually relives his defeat again and again, for the “Word of God is living and active” (Heb 4:12).

I have often witnessed allegedly experienced pastors muddle up the Baptismal formula, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” causing me to seriously wonder about the presence of devilish hordes hidden from sight during the rite. They appear to direct all their energies to distract or jumble up the Spirit-inspired words, while the godparents are too enchanted by the cuteness of the little baby face and blinded by sentimentality, to notice the difference. After all, one of their primary roles as witnesses is to assure that the words spoken by the participants of the event are accurately delivered. Although easily memorisable, the words of the Trinitarian formula are unusually difficult to recount during the divine mystery of the moment, which is why I insist upon reading them—every single time! So the chance of an untrained lay unbeliever’s attempt at successfully recreating a Christian baptism while sharing a bath with the candidate is pretty slim. In any case, nothing that I did seemed to help Lisa. Like many new believers who may find elements of the Christian faith an attractive means in helping them manage some personal issues, Lisa was only half-heartedly interested in resigning most of her frivolous addictions, including occult dabbling into the “deep secrets of Satan” (Rev 2:24). After all, the world tempts us to take control of our lives, while Jesus asks us to surrender them.

Witchcraft is an alluring tool to youth who feel themselves devoid of power or influence in their social networks. Eighteenth-century author Samuel Richardson expounds people’s implicit inclination to abuse the weaker party, even when they themselves were once the underdog. Christians who indulge in the satanic arts are neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm in the faith; plants that spring-up quickly, but are choked away by the worries of life. I recently read in the newspaper that the “Santa Muerte” or “Saint Death” (represented by statues of the Grim Reaper) has recently made a come-back in Mexico, duping 10 million Catholics into worshipping him. Although banned by the Vatican, poverty-stricken followers willingly make pacts with this demon. He has a reputation for effectively delivering his part of the bargain, and expecting full payment for his services.24 We all dream of speedy ways of achieving justice in accordance with our own terms and timings. Some are more desperate than others.

Lisa was desperate. But I was partly to blame as well. Although I was well-intentioned, I am not sure whether or not I aggravated the situation. Romantic feelings that developed over the course of a rather ephemeral relationship were certainly counterproductive, contributing to the eluding of vigilance and neglect of precaution. Yet it was my first unabashed exposure to anything resembling an exorcism, however unsuccessful.

What harm can sin and death then do?

The true God now abides with you.

Let hell and Satan rage and chafe,

Christ is your Brother—ye are safe.

Not one He will or can forsake

Who Him his confidence doth make.

Let all his wiles the Tempter try,

You may his utmost powers defy.25

14. Amorth, More Stories, 162.

15 As a father I consider it a great honour to form, mold and shape the lives of my children.The wonderful vocation of parenthood allows me to participate in the incredible creative energies of God. While most parents aim to lovingly raise these gifts with which they have been entrusted, assuring that they grow well, the devil seeks only to contort, bend and destroy whatever he happens to possess at any particular moment. In short, the devil’s “creative” energies do not form, but rather deform, revealing the great difference between him and his creator, aggravating and inflaming his wicked frustration.

16. City of God, VIII: 16–17.

17. Amorth, An Exorcist, 76.

18. City of God, XIV: 27–28; XIX: 13.

19. For a deeper exploration of Luther’s view on confusions within theological logic as inherently demonic and how maintaining a proper distinction between the two spheres of eternal and temporal realities is a participation in spiritual war see Harold Ristau’s Understanding Martin Luther’s Demonological Rhetoric in His Treatise Against the Heavenly Prophets (1525): How What Luther Speaks Is Essential to What Luther Says.

20. Unlike the juncture between a created body and soul held within Christian anthropology, which necessitates kinds of physical means of grace to affect the spirit, the Gnostics either radically pitted the body and soul against each other or they collapsed them together: the body was either of utmost importance or maintained very little importance.

21. i.e. God’s rule through secular authorities by the law to God’s rule through His Church by His means of grace—the Gospel.

22. LSB 533.

23. AE 54:50.

24. At the same time, contracts with the devil can be broken. One Christian youngster was healed of her illness after a satanic pact was made and inscribed on a piece of paper that she carried around her neck in an amulet. After repentance, she was delivered from the demonic oppression even though her illness returned. She held no regrets. See Koch, Occult Bondage and Deliverance, 116.

25. TLH 103.