Читать книгу My First Exorcism - Harold Ristau - Страница 9

A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Demonic

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. (1 Pet 5:8)

Most people have seen the movie The Exorcist. If you haven’t, I wouldn’t recommend it. Nevertheless, it could be worse. The internet has opened wide a new horizon of occultist subject matter easily available for viewing, yet offering very few tools in determining the validity of the implied claims. Mildly amusing, The Exorcist is apparently “based on actual events.” Hollywood is not accustomed to the academic practice of footnoting in substantiating its declarations. Viewers are just expected to believe. As a Christian, I find it inconceivable that the faithful priest was not successful in the end—especially after the sequel! As to the young girl’s bleached white face, stained yellow teeth, bloodshot eyes and crusty cracked skin, I still have my doubts. In my limited encounters with demoniacs, I have yet to witness any of those symptoms. At the same time, the more I investigate the ancient texts and cases on record, the more questions I have. In general, the devil chooses to appear as an “angel of light” (2 Cor 11:14), while his collection of zombie costumes accumulates dust in the closet of his underworld apartment. His subtle tactics infiltrate the way we view the world and derive meaning from our experiences. Obviously, if the evil foe appeared in all of his natural ugliness, he would attract us less. A mere peek at his actual wardrobe may turn agnostics into Christians. As it stands, the majority of people have draped themselves with the subtleties of this dark prince’s religions, philosophies, lifestyles and doctrines. No, the devil prefers sheep’s clothing.

With the help of the evil one, the media and inferred religion of the surrounding culture perpetrate an anti-Christian spirituality. They discredit the vital value of tradition and wholesome religious customs by an implicit mockery of the wisdom of past generations and an insidious patronization of the elderly. They celebrate the “naturalism” of witchcraft as an off-shoot of the Green movement. They boast that the self-fulfilment and empowering abilities of Wicca are harmonious with the goals and values of our postmodern era. Yet Christians are not exempt from these temptations. Sadly, they show little resistance. For example, most consider horror movies harmless, as long as they teach a life lesson coherent with an agreeable moral value—and when they are not entirely fictional, they should end on a happy note. Depictions of violence are scarcely grounds to blush. Ungallant speech escapes unnoticed, exciting little suspicion in an already numbed brain. Sex scenes are a cinematographic red herring and thus rationalized as collateral damage to an edifying plot. Few scorn their shame, lulled by their disseminating poison. Most bravely indulge this eye candy with no regret or apprehension. Scenes of a sensual nature between married couples trick us into believing that the R-Rated film is somehow less pornographic. Voyeurism is justified as “educational” when the story is inspired by factual events.

Like many kids, as a youngster, I was intrigued by scary movies. I guess that most young boys like a thrill, while preadolescent imagination tries to imitate those curious things seen on TV. My mischievous friends and I would occasionally play with Ouija. Sometimes strange things would happen. Although there was a lot of goofing around, I am convinced that at least on one occasion, a non-human entity attempted to convey a message. We all ran out of the room screaming. Moments later, the fright was followed by giggles, laughing, and other forms of playful accusations and silliness. Despite harmless intentions, I am persuaded that we had accessed a portal to the demonic realm. The monsters in my closet seemed a lot more real after that. The basement felt darker; the breathing in the bedroom closet, heavier. All kids have bad dreams. But my nightmares came with a vengeance, consuming most of the week’s sleeps. They were accompanied by hallucinations and inexplicable fainting spells recurring over the course of years. Praise God for my guardian angel! Overreaction? Oversensitivity? Maybe. Thankfully, the intensity of these dreadful dreams receded after I joined a Bible study group as a teenager. Eventually they dissipated entirely. But many of the images and themes remained imbedded in my Freudian ego. They are probably still there—I still like scary movies.

As Christians, we are emancipated from the power and condemnation of the Law. Simply put, no one has the right to insist that we must abide by a new collection of Talmudic principles, even if some of them make a lot of sense. God’s people reside under the umbrella of grace. Sinners no longer pummelled by the hailstorm of legalistic obligations are “free.” But are we at liberty to watch the enemies of Christ and His Gospel applaud their dark conduct, making jest of our persecuted Lord, even if it does not jeopardize our status as His servants? Would a married man choose to tolerate some jealous scoundrel habitually slandering his wife, even if it would never result in a divorce? The Apostle encourages believers to dwell on topics that are honourable, pure and lovely (Phil 4:8) as the overall healthier choice. Questionable decisions may not change our position before the throne of grace in heaven, but may certainly impact our level of personal misery until we get there. Besides, they lack class.

The memoirs recorded and commentaries penned in this book are intended to educate and persuade the reader in matters pertaining to the demonic realm. Perhaps this humble and tiny contribution will serve as one of many other sources of corporate memory for the Church. The Word of God challenges us “not to be outwitted by Satan” by being “ignorant of his designs” (2 Cor 2:11). Flung headlong from the heights of heaven, the devil prowls around like a vicious lion “going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it” (Job 2:2). My hope is that the Christian reader will spiritually profit through a deeper understanding of the devil’s machinations, being better equipped with the full armour of God in the spiritual battles against the dark principalities in which we daily engage.

The military would liken such a project to an “After Action Report” with the purpose of learning lessons from the successes and errors of others. However, normally such debriefings are compiled immediately after a critical incident occurs. My stories, however, are not recent. Some of them are nearly a quarter-century old. Why bring them up now? Frankly, after an early episode with exorcism, I had convinced myself that no right-minded person would hear me without a suspension of disbelief. We are all biased. After being rewarded with a burst of laughter the first time around, I decided that I would only share my experiences amongst believers with whom I was guaranteed to escape judgment as gullible or jeered at as superstitious. Today, I care less.

Most educated people believe that what we call “demon possession” is simply a dubious expression of mental illness, satisfactorily treated by pharmaceuticals. After all, even the Bible arguably invites conjecture in its listing of demon possession alongside various other physical and mental illnesses (Matt 4:24). Certainly some of the symptoms appear to be treatable by modern medicine. But at the end of the day, if demons are real, they cannot simply be zapped away by a dose of anti-psychotic drugs. Even much of the medical community no longer equates demonism with epilepsy.1 Naturally, the secular world still remains sceptical. If demons are real, life-altering action is required. Yet no one is comfortable with change. The scientific mind does all within its means to avoid an imminent cognitive dissonance. At a certain level the empire of scientific thought is founded upon quasi-religious principles of faith seldom attendant upon truth. A serious invitation to criticism or openness to a falsification of their claims, by means of a long awaited dialogue with the reputable religious community, is simply too dangerous a risk to take. As things stand, Christian believers are outliers. Their scholarly research is written off as paraphernalia while secularized “scientific” theory is blindly embraced as fact. Although truth is not contingent upon majority rule, the post-structuralist reprehension—that reality is at least partially a product of social construct—is applicable to this deteriorating arena of “academic” discourse. Although the platitudes of the secular world insinuate that the Christian Church is delusional, blurring the distinction between fantasy and reality is a rapidly-spreading problematic among the unbelieving populace.

The Church Fathers help us understand why the world is, literally, so confused. One cannot safely set out on a journey without a reliable map. Such a map is based on an accurate reading of reality. Most unbelievers are materialists. By denying the existence of the spiritual realm as entirely different from the physical one, the way they reason follows a fallacious map of a fictional land which, in turn, informs their distorted worldview. In contrast, the Christian map incorporates both the visible and invisible planes of reality. St. Augustine, one of the most important Fathers of the Western Church, organized these spiritual and earthly realities under the respective categories of the “City of God” and the “Earthly City,” while investigating the implications of the overlap between them. This distinction between these two realms furnishes Christianity’s ability to interpret the human experience in accordance with a dual-lensed spectacle of the “two cities.” In contrast, the secular world filters phenomena through a single-lensed epistemological hermeneutic informed by a metaphysic of the “one city.” Reasoning through this “single-city” logic is inherently demonic because it collapses God-given distinctions. For instance, the ability to judge moral events by a higher or “heavenly” standard is diabolically perverted by the absence of a meaningful ethical grid. We encounter examples of this inability to critically evaluate cultural norms throughout any given day. For example, most traffic jams are caused by an endless line up of curious bystanders determined to observe the damage of a traffic accident. Is the rubbernecking altruistic? In other words, do drivers slow down in order to determine how they can be of some philanthropic assistance or do they do so because of a grotesque interest or even a sadistic desire—albeit subconscious? For the vast majority of our desensitized population, the unspoken feeling on the matter runs something like, “It’s a free show—what’s the problem?” Reality-TV stars are the new gladiators in the coliseum of our living rooms. The Romans catered no ethical dilemmas either. What compels an individual to prioritize videotaping their pending consumption by a hurricane or Tsunami over their own physical security? Television watching is indisputably harmless, right? Perhaps, unconsciously, we believe that placing a photo lens between the threat and our cornea provides the same protection. “How could my life possibly be endangered in the middle of a tweet!” the tourist protests as he is engulfed by an enormous wave. Not only do we blindly trust our media, but we unwarily depend on their mediums as our authorities—and so they become our gods. The objectification of the female and male form warps the ability to realistically evaluate the beauty of one’s spouse. We tithe an unsettling amount of our income to the image of a billboard in pathetic attempts at approximating our aesthetic qualities to a plastic prototype or a Hollywood star that has just undergone another series of futile face-lifts. Beauty is not in the eyes of the beholder but in the eyes of the culture. And yet the archetype is a fake and a lie. A critical approach to advertisements is driven by the awareness of our interaction with an artificial reality. The goal of most ads is to breed covetousness. They rarely fulfill our needs. Usually they stealthily create wants and then trick us into believing that we have always needed them.

Navigating safely through this dangerous spiritual labyrinth of temptation, vanity and conflicting desires and intuitions is vital for Christians who claim to be counter-cultural disciples of the cross. Godly judgments require sharpening through prayer and study of God’s Word since the domineering single-city logic inhibits one’s ability to carefully distinguish between differing realities. For those who view the world along that single and simple plane, appellations, demons and spirits, if they exist at all, must be recordable on radiation detectors and other physical apparatus. For them, it is unfathomable to envision even spiritual bodies as belonging to some other sphere besides the earthly one with which we are all fully familiar. Given these presuppositions reincarnation makes some sense. Like our bodies, our souls remain trapped within the single-planed bubble of temporal reality. So, too, some Christians insist that souls have mass.

If the veins in your brain are presently pulsating, that’s a good sign. Thinking deep sometimes hurts. However, allow me one further illustration to clarify the strenuous point. As a chaplain deployed to the Middle East, I remember peering through a set of binoculars with a few sentry guards from the top of a cliff. Even though we were participating in a surveillance of enemy territory, the landscape was spine-tinglingly beautiful. The fantastic feeling that people often have when fixing their eyes on a desirable object was immediately interrupted by a disturbing crunching sound underneath the soles of my combat boots. When I looked down below my feet, it quickly became apparent that I was stepping on some bones—human bones! As a matter of fact, I was standing in the midst of a skeletal rib cage. Widening the perimeter of my vantage point, I noticed that not only was I standing on a few, I was surrounded by an endless sea of bones mixed with sand, dust and rubble. The entire hill appeared to have consisted of human bones.2 Tripping over a chunk of skull, I was inclined to join with Dorothy’s observation after arriving into the Land of Oz: “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Ezekiel had a vision of a valley of dry bones. Here I was standing on a mountain of them! The Church operates within the presumption that there are two planes to reality.3 Yet only those who turn their heads can clearly see with this double vision. St. Augustine would call that “conversion.” Most non-Christians are myopic. They tend to view only a landscape and fail to perceive another simultaneous reality directly beneath them. Just like I had lost my footing in my hypnotic fixation, conducting one’s life in neglect of this double-vision is sure to result in a tumultuous and unpredictable voyage. In Holy Baptism Christians receive a new lens that governs their lives, not only informing their moral compasses, but acting also as an internal GPS that allows them to better understand wider societal trends and chisel away at conventional wisdom.

One final example (I promise): on the one hand, spiritually-sensitive people today have heedlessly turned environmental sustainability into a pagan religion, paying homage to the pantheistic goddess “Mother Nature.” The well-meaning ecological principles of this animistic worldview operate within a one-planed bubble of earthly phenomena. All future possibilities are contingent upon the survival of a measureable creation. On the other hand, the redneck types with bumper stickers stating “He with the most toys wins” deride recycling and salute acid rain. These two seemingly radically different worldviews are both hinged in the same demonic error. How both the immanence and transcendence of a personal God fit into a system in which a rudimentary distinction between the creation and the Creator has been tossed aside remains a challenge for the unenlightened unbeliever. With their “double-vision” Christians should be less prone to confusing realms and categories in interpreting the meaning of both the Holy Scriptures and the events of everyday life. It is to be expected that they be more open-minded to testimonies regarding the supernatural as well.

This leads me to the other reason that I am hesitant to talk about my experiences. I want to avoid sensationalizing them. The Holy Scriptures are relatively silent on the topic of demons. We know a great deal more about the good angels than we do about the bad ones. And so should it be, lest our curiosity be roused to unbiblical exertions and sacrilege. To God alone be the glory. However, we are given a few clues about the fallen angels and clear instructions as to how to rid ourselves of them. The writings of the Church Fathers and ancient liturgies can help us. I am not so pretentious as to equate my contribution with theirs. To the contrary, I pray that I would stay clear of speaking beyond those things permitted by the Holy Scriptures, distracting a listener from the voice of our dear Lord and mighty Master Jesus Christ. I only hope that I have composed some meaningful thoughts woven together in synchronized conformity with solemn logic, Christian tradition and the Word of God—and that all of them are lacking in originality.

Outside of Roman Catholicism, there is a surprisingly little amount of credible material on the tactical considerations with regards to exorcism and a ministry of deliverance from the wide spectrum of demonic activity to which we are exposed.4 It would appear that the Reformation churches of the sixteenth-century were so busy preserving the priceless jewel of the doctrine of justification—sola fides and solus Christus—that some of the other precious treasures of the Church had become neglected. Lutherans may lack resources, but they add an integral component to the conversation. Namely, belief in the assurance of salvation delivered to believers by Christ through Holy Baptism is an integral prerequisite before engaging in demonic combat, since the devil’s most effective weapon is to cast doubt upon the competencies of our General and Lord and have us question our status as His subordinates and His children. My hope is that my narrative-based introduction to the topic will trigger a desire in exploring and rediscovering—and even, dare I say, developing—material, tools and resources for the Church at large.

Over the years I have come to realize that I have had an unusually high number of encounters with demons. I have witnessed bizarre and disturbing things that I hope never to see again. I share some of them here. Many of my brothers in the ministry have never experienced anything similar. I remember asking a seminary professor why candidates for the holy ministry received so little training on exorcism. It was indicated to me that such encounters for clergy were rare in the developed world. There is some truth in this. Whereas the portfolios of overseas missionaries are saturated with stories of exorcisms, the devil finds it less advantageous to be overly obvious in a secular, modern, and largely agnostic or atheistic culture. Demonic presence only confirms the existence of the spiritual realm. In the under-developed countries the existence of God is presupposed. In poverty-stricken regions the question becomes, “Which are stronger, the evil forces or the good ones?” Religious people guess as to the allegiance that offers more temporal advantages. Fellow workers in the ministry are quite accustomed to demon possession in places such as Haiti or Western Africa. But even in North America, one should be well-equipped.

Personally, I believe that I have encountered demon possession in at least three known individuals to whom I ministered Christ’s Word and Sacraments. The reason that I say “known” is because it is not always clear as to who is “possessed” and who is “oppressed,” and to what degree. There is a difference. Without going into great detail, stages of diabolical influence may also include subjugation, infestation and affectation.5 Certainly, each and every Christian is daily targeted by the evil fiend in thought, word and deed. The Old Adam abides alongside the New until the Christian enters Glory, and a return to one’s baptism is nothing other than a constant drowning of that evil foe and his influence in the holy blood of Jesus. In this sense, every baptism is a “baptism of blood,” just not our own. Moreover, every baptism is a kind of exorcism, since we are born children of the devil and are made into children of God (1 John 3:10). In the case of children, sponsors rebuke Satan on behalf of the speechless infant who is unable to articulate his faith himself. In the ancient Greek tradition, godparents would literally spit at the devil as they turned away from the font. Whether a child or adult, we are transferred from the Babylonian kingdom of darkness to the heavenly kingdom of light, as pronounced in the holy liturgy: “Depart from name, you unclean spirit, and make way for the Holy Spirit, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”6 Henceforth, baptized believing Christians are born again. The evil hound may still bark at us but he retains no bite due to Christ’s propitiating atonement for us on the cross; a victory delivered to us in those “rosy-red” waters of Holy Baptism, as Martin Luther coined so well.7 It is an appropriate detail that the pigs into which Jesus cast the demons were drowned in water (Matt 8:28–34). The Old Man and our sins are drowned too. Therefore Christians treat the devil with contempt. Well aware that we refuse to love him, he hopes at the very least that we fear him. Yet Christians need not be afraid, if they stand guard by hiding within Christ our fortress (Ps 18:2).

Demonic oppression and possession ensnare those who unwittingly expose themselves to the enemy’s malevolent community. Sometimes there is an implicit or explicit request that the Holy Spirit step aside as the evil one is invited to take His place as part and parcel of apostasy from the Christian Faith.8 At other times, the Holy Spirit is not present at the start. In any case, normally this dark dialogue occurs through various levels of contact with the occult and black magic. Although professionally trained exorcists claim that some may be the passive recipients of curses, spells, blood pacts, black magic, or witchcraft—even through spiritual ailments rooted in the family since childhood (i.e. “guilt by association”)9—all demonically oppressed or possessed individuals with whom I, personally, have interacted have willingly permitted themselves contact with the occult. Demonic oppression can be tackled with fasting and prayer for God’s release coupled with a faithful study and hearing of God’s holy Word. Yet demon possession often requires the more severe treatment of a scheduled exorcism which both commands and binds the demon with the word and power of Christ which compels it.10 The demon is ordered to discontinue its harm and return to its source—forever. Although Christians are never called to engage in exotic demon-chasing crusades, but should “stand guard”11 in the spots where God has placed them (Eph 6:10–20)—the demons hunt us on our terrain obviating all human expeditions into theirs—in the case of a demoniac the demon is invoked, rebuked and expelled. Of course, it is never our prayers, but those of our valiant champion that pulverize these hostile enemy forces.

When reading the New Testament, one gets the impression that the demon-possessed were always clearly so: tied up in chains, banished into the desert, etc. But in my experience, demons can remain hidden for extensive periods of time inside their host, influencing their behaviour, haunting their thoughts, playing with their souls, and only periodically manifesting their presence publicly. One of the demoniacs with whom I worked could summon her demon at will. Because demons like to hide, some of them need to be coaxed or goaded out through lengthy prayers and precise commands. Evidently, there are various degrees of demonic activity. Each case demands a unique pastoral response.

Naturally, the content of this book may not be suitable for all readers. Some will find the narratives daunting, while for others the more austere components of certain commentaries may prove unsettling. Notwithstanding the title, this book is not about exorcism. A disquisition indubitably resembling a diatribe at times, the accounts of demonic oppression and possession recorded here offer a springboard intended to stimulate critical thinking, challenge metaphysical presuppositions and inspire belated conversation on a series of topics that have traditionally been avoided due to the impetuosity that they incite inside each one of us. Advancing no succinct plot, these streams of thought delineate inquiries into the subtleties of demonic activity of individual and communal life as their common thread. Furthermore, the opinions expressed herein are in no way representative of the military institution for which I work, nor are they reflective of all the clergy within my church body. But more than likely it is the subject matter and eyewitness accounts that will be deemed most disturbing. St. John Chrysostom likened the practice of biblical hermeneutics to sea travel in which some, who are less accustomed to it, experience seasickness. The dizziness felt arises not from the sea, but rather from the voyagers’ inexperience at sea.12 The analogy may be applicable to this odyssey. In any case, let us now leave the harbor and enter the depths together.

Jacob’s Star in all its splendor,

Beams with comfort sweet and tender,

Forcing Satan to surrender,

Breaking all the powers of hell.13

1. Despite many of its secular presuppositions, the medical community is increasingly recognizing the necessity of spiritual care alongside psychiatric treatment of those exhibiting alleged signs of demon possession. Koenig, Faith and Mental Health, 153.

2. Although it is hard to tell, since cadavers were often buried in unmarked shallow desert graves, the mountain was likely a mass grave for which enemy forces were responsible.

3. Although there is an overlap between temporal and eternal realities in what many call “spirituality” (for Christians, prayer, liturgy and sacraments act as links between the two spheres), the rules that function within one sphere do not necessarily apply to the other.

4. For more information on the role of exorcism in the Lutheran tradition, see Robert H. Bennett who concisely explores the contributions of Martin Luther, C.F.W. Walther and Francis Pieper, to name a few, in I Am not Afraid, 129–167.

5. Amorth, An Exorcist tells his Story, 79.

6. From Dr. Martin Luther’s 1526 rite in Rites and Resources for Pastoral Care, 143.

7. AE 51: 325

8. Accordingly C.F.W. Walther mentions how the “devout” can also be possessed by demons. Walther’s Pastorale, 214.

9. Amorth, An Exorcist: More Stories, 138; Vogl, Begone Satan!, 19.

10. Amorth, An Exorcist, 25–52.

11. See John W. Kleinig, Grace upon Grace: Spirituality for Today, 256–260.

12. Chrysostom, Old Testament Homilies, 8.

13. TLH 90.