by Matt Baglio
Members in the third group responded to his revelation simply by giving him a blank look and saying flatly, “I don't believe in that.” And while it may seem strange that Catholic priests did not believe in the Devil or exorcism, to Father Gary, who was ordained in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council, it wasn't surprising at all.
UP UNTIL THE 1960s, the Church as a body was relatively unified in its belief that the Devil was an evil spirit, a fallen angel created by God and endowed with certain powers and free will.
In the early Church, the Devil was seen as the leader of a vast army of demons arrayed against “the community of the faithful” as represented by the apostles and the other followers of Christ. Later, Saint Augustine would come to refer to this conflict in terms of a struggle between “two cities,” created when the angels were put to a test by God. As a result, Christians had to be on constant guard against this enemy who sought mankind's ruin as a way to get even with God. In this war, the chief weapon of the Devil was temptation; however, as witnessed in the New Testament, in certain circumstances he could attack an individual directly, taking control of the person's body. When that happened, the only remedy was an exorcism.
Since Satan is a created being, and therefore subject to the power of God, an exorcism is valid only when it is performed in the name of God and by the authority of the Church, to which Christ gave that power. “Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness” (Matthew 10:1).
The New Testament is full of stories of Jesus exorcising demons, which not only proved his divinity but was also tangible evidence that he had come to defeat the kingdom of Satan and usher in a new one. “But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you” (Matthew 12:28).
Perhaps the most dramatic exorcism in the Gospels is the case of the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5:1-20). As Jesus steps out of a boat near a town called Gadarenes, he is immediately accosted by a man out of the tombs on the hillside. The people of the town have tried to restrain him with “shackles and chains,” but he has “wrenched them apart” during his ravings. He is always shouting and bruising himself with stones. Upon seeing Jesus he cries out, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” Jesus then commands the evil spirit to leave the man and asks his name, receiving the answer “Legion.” The evil spirit then begs Jesus “not to send them out of the country” but instead to allow them to be sent into a herd of swine feeding nearby. Jesus grants permission and the herd of swine “numbering about two thousand” then “rushes down the steep bank and into the sea.”
Although Jesus was not the only exorcist of his day, his method was special. Rather than using the complex rituals and props of his contemporaries, he simply ordered the demon to depart, sometimes even in the first person. In fact Jesus’ exorcisms were considered so radical that he was accused by his enemies of harnessing the power of demons (Mark 3:20-30), a charge Jesus answered by saying simply that it was impossible for a demon to cast out a demon.
These exorcisms had a powerful effect on Jesus’ followers. The evangelist Mark thought them so spectacular that the first miracle he reports Jesus performing is an exorcism (Mark 1:23-27).
In the years following Jesus’ death, exorcism became an important tool for believers to win converts and spread the faith. Almost all the Apostolic Fathers (the writers who came after the apostles) wrote about it. In his Dialogue with Trypho, Justin Martyr, one of the earliest Christian theologians, states: ‘Any demon who is commanded in the name of the Son of God … will be overcome and defeated.”
The importance of exorcism is clear in the early ceremonies of baptism, in which candidates underwent a series of formal exorcisms over a period of days while renouncing Satan (the renouncing of Satan is still used in baptism today).
Despite this early importance, a fierce debate erupted between “liberal” and “conservative” theologians in the 1960s about whether the figure of the Devil was ever meant to be taken literally. Since the Church goes about defining truth through two distinct elements— divine revelation (scripture) and tradition, which are authentically interpreted by the Church's Magisterium, or teaching authority—both sides used a mixture of historical and biblical evidence to make their case.
For liberals, it was incomprehensible that the Church would continue to believe in such things as “unseen spirits” or that the Devil was a “person” when advances in science and human reason had clearly shown most of the foundations for these beliefs to be obsolete. “We cannot use electric light and radio, or turn to modern medicine in cases of sickness,” wrote Rudolf Bultmann in 1969, “and at the same time believe in a spirit world and in the miracles that the New Testament presents us.” Taking aim at the Bible, they analyzed the passages that mentioned the Devil and pointed out their reliance on allegory—a literary device used by the writers of the Gospels to underline the hold that evil had over the world. And while Jesus’ actions clearly indicate that at least he believed in the Devil, this was debunked by critics like Herbert Haag, Bas van Iersel, and Henry Ansgar Kelly, who claimed that he was simply doing the modern PRequivalent of “dumbing down” the message to get his point across to an uncultured society.
For conservatives, not only did these interpretations misrepresent scripture, but they completely disregarded long-standing traditions reported by the Apostolic Fathers. If the Church had never come out with a binding statement on the Devil's existence in the past, that was because it never had to; the reality of the Devil had never been doubted. To dispute these teachings, they said, would be to call into question the very credibility of the Church. As if to underscore the point, on November 15, 1972, Pope Paul VI spoke out on the matter to a general audience, saying that “evil is not merely a lack of something but an effective agent, a living spiritual being, [and that] it is contrary to the teaching of the Bible and the Church to refuse to recognize the existence of such a reality.”
Both positions seemed to have their limitations. While the liberal view was in many respects a continuation of Enlightenment thinking, its labeling of Jesus’ exorcisms as allegorical had disturbing ramifications for anyone claiming to be a Christian. If Jesus were indeed the Son of God, as every Christian believes, why would he misinform his followers by commanding them to cast out evil spirits if no such beings existed?
Meanwhile, for conservatives, while their defense of the faith on traditional grounds did agree with the Fathers of the Church, it was perceived by rank-and-file priests of the day as being medieval and out of touch with modern society.
In the end, it would be this last view that would win out, as more and more priests found themselves affected not only by a growing acceptance of a modernist worldview, but also by a kind of existential relativism that took hold as a result of the Second Vatican Council. While not necessarily rejecting the official teachings of the Church, most clergymen found the concept of the Devil a sideshow that no “serious-minded” priest would lose time considering. For all intents and purposes, it was Charles Baudelaire's well-known phrase come to life: The Devil had finally convinced the world that he no longer existed.
AT THE COURSE, Father Gary also benefited from being introduced to other novice exorcists like himself. Most were from Italy and didn't speak English. One priest, however, a Franciscan from America, proved extremely helpful.
Father Daniel, originally from the New England area, had recently been stationed at the shrines in Jerusalem. His brown robe bore the symbol—a red cross surrounded by four smaller ones—of his order. With his robe, close-cropped hair, and beard, he appeared to be from another era. And yet, upon closer inspection, the subtle hints of his New England background rose to the surface—a sliver of blue jeans below his robe, Birkenstock sandals, the frayed collar of a green button-down shirt.
During one of the breaks, Father Daniel explained t
o Father Gary what compelled him to take the course. That summer he'd been at a shrine in Abruzzo, east of Rome, where he'd had a terrifying experience. One day, while he listened to confessions at the shrine, a woman approached him and asked if he believed in demonic possession. Despite his lack of firsthand knowledge in the matter, he told her that he did. The woman responded, “Good, because I suffer from it and I want to confess.” Unsure what she meant, he nonetheless began with his blessing and continued to hear her confession. He could see immediately that something was amiss; she began to twitch and clear her throat repeatedly. Then things got worse. All of a sudden she began to grunt and the word zitto, shut up, escaped involuntarily from her pursed lips. Then, when it came time for him to say his final blessings and absolve her of her sins, to his utter shock, all the muscles in her face contorted to such a degree that he could no longer recognize her. Next, her jaw completely unhinged and, dropping down, shifted over to one side of her face, giving the impression that her mouth had become nine inches wide. At this point, Father Daniel nearly panicked but kept calm long enough to bless the woman in the name of Jesus Christ, after which she got up and bolted from the church.
After he had recovered and his fears subsided, he became curious about what he had just witnessed. In order to get answers, he volunteered to help the local exorcist who worked at the shrine. It didn't take long for him to realize that he had seen only the tip of the iceberg—there was a whole world out there that he never knew existed. As a result, when he was transferred to Rome in the fall to begin his doctoral studies, he petitioned his superior for permission to apprentice with an exorcist. Father Tommaso at the Scala Santa, a church that has been long associated with exorcism, took him on shortly thereafter.
As he listened to Father Daniel, Father Gary had no reason to doubt the Franciscan's sincerity. Far from boastful, Father Daniel had been incredibly humble, even self-deprecating—almost as if even he couldn't believe what had happened. Father Daniel's story only made Father Gary realize just how little he knew about demonic possession. Before he could ever perform an exorcism himself, he would need to learn more about who or what he was going up against.
CHAPTER FOUR
KNOW YOUR ENEMY
If God the Father almighty, the Creator of the ordered and good world, cares for all his creatures, why does evil exist? To this question, as pressing as it is unavoidable and as painful as it is mysterious, no quick answer will suffice. Only Christian faith as a whole constitutes the answer to this question: the goodness of creation, the drama of sin, and the patient love of God who comes to meet man by his covenants, the redemptive Incarnation of his Son, his gift of the Spirit, his gathering of the Church, the power of the sacraments, and his call to a blessed life to which free creatures are invited to consent in advance, but from which, by terrible mystery, they can also turn away in advance. There is not a single aspect of the Christian message that is not in part an answer to the question of evil.
—Catechism of the Catholic Church 309
The capacity to love has been annihilated from the psychology of a demon. A demon knows but does not love. The pleasure achieved in doing an evil act is the same as that which a human being feels when he gets revenge on an enemy—it is a pleasure filled with hate.
—Father José Antonio Fortea, Interview with an Exorcist
The idea of the Devil has evolved over time, primarily as a way to explain the existence of evil in a world created by an all-powerful and loving God.
The word devil comes from the Greek diabolos, which means “adversary slanderer, opposer.” When the Hebrew Bible was translated in 200 B.C.E. into Greek (known as the Septuagint version), the Greeks commonly used this word in place of the Hebrew word satan, which meant “accuser.”
In the Old Testament, which was written between 1000 and 100 B.C.E., the Devil is only mentioned a few times, and even then he is far from a coherent, personified being. Some theologians, such as Thomas Aquinas, have speculated that this is because Moses was “addressing uncultured people” and didn't want to promote any beliefs that might tempt them to worship false idols. Other theologians have suggested that the lack of a coherent demonology in the Old Testament might be because the Israelites had a strict law in place that prohibited magic. Satan's most prominent appearance is in the book of Job; but as some scholars have pointed out, here his name is really just a title. He still has access to the heavenly court and appears to be acting as God's agent, a kind of “prosecuting attorney.” In this role, he convinces God to give him the power to torment Job to test Job's loyally (Job 1:6-12).
In the New Testament, however, the Devil plays a much bigger role. At the time of Christ's coming—thanks to original sin—”the whole world lies under the power of the Evil One” (1 John 5:19). To heal this rift, God sends his only Son. The Synoptic Gospels address this concept directly and repeatedly. “The Son of God was revealed for this purpose, to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8).
The New Testament is full of the battles that these two sides wage. Satan tempts Christ directly in the desert (Matthew 4:1-11; Mark 1:13; Luke 4:1-13) and attacks him indirectly through his followers by temptation (Matthew 13:19); by inflicting bodily harm (Luke 13:11); and by possession (Mark 1:23-28). Jesus teaches his disciples the Lord's Prayer, and confronts the Devil head-on by performing exorcisms.
THE BELIEF IN SPIRITS or intermediaries between God and man exists in just about every religion. The Assyrians, for instance, had numerous books (written on clay tablets) dedicated to incantations and conjurations to ward off evil spirits.
According to the Greeks, “demons,” or daimones, were thought to be either good or evil. Socrates, for instance, famously credited a daimon as being the source of his inspiration.
For Catholics, the belief in angels is an article of faith, based on divine revelation and the teachings of the Church. “The Apostles’ Creed professes that God is ‘Creator of heaven and earth.’ The Nicene Creed makes it explicit that this profession includes ‘all that is seen and unseen.’“
The creation of the angels is affirmed in numerous passages of the Bible. Saint Paul writes to the Colossians: “For in him [Christ] all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him” (Colossians 1:16).
The angels occupy a natural order, or hierarchy of beings, whose purpose is to reflect the glory of God. As thirteenth-century theologian Thomas Aquinas explains in Summa Theologies, his great tome on angels, “There must be some incorporeal creatures, for what is principally intended by God in creatures is good, and this consists in assimilation to God Himself […] hence the perfection of the universe requires that there should be intellectual creatures.”
To many theologians it seems only natural to believe in higher intelligences superior to our own, especially when one considers the ordered nature and varying degrees of intelligence that exist in the world, from single-cell organisms right up to man. “It would be most extraordinary if (man) formed the last link,” writes Pie-Raymond Régamey O.P.
THE CATECHISM OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH teaches that Satan was a good angel created by God: “The devil and the other demons were indeed created naturally good by God, but they became evil by their own doing.”
As an expression of his love, God created the angels with free will so that they could love him back and “render [themselves] similar to God who ‘is love’” (1 John 4:16). In simple terms, according to the Christian tradition, love is a metaphysical necessity for created beings since it is only through love that such beings can realize their full potential. And since love not freely given is not really love at all, this meant that the angels (along with man) needed to have the ability to choose. However, God knew that once he gave this freedom, it could be used either for evil or for good. “By creating the pure spirits as free beings, God in his Providence could not but foresee also the possibility of the angels’ si
n,” said Pope John Paul II.
After their creation, God tested the angels before admitting them to the beatific vision (the direct experience of God in heaven). Many angels remained faithful to God while a smaller number, led by Satan, “rebelled,” choosing to place themselves before God.
After their sin, the angels were immediately stripped of their everlasting grace and condemned to an “eternal punishment” (Matthew 25:46). Theologians call this punishment the “pain of loss.” The fallen angels were cut off from the only source that could have given them happiness: God. In this “hell,” the demons are forever tormented and remain obstinate in their hate, a hate that has deformed their very nature.
According to Christian tradition, Satan was the principal fallen angel, the brightest and most perfect of all God's creations. The Bible makes it clear that he holds a higher rank than the other fallen angels: “the Devil and his angels” (Matthew 25:41), “the ruler of the demons” (Luke 11:15), “the dragon and his angels” (Revelation 12:7-9).
Ever since Origen attributed the fall to pride, Satan's name has been interchangeable with Lucifer. The name, taken from a verse in Isaiah, is used metaphorically to describe the king of Babylon. “How art thou fallen from heaven, Lucifer, son of Dawn! How are you cut down to the ground, you who laid nations low! You said in your heart, ‘I will ascend into heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God’” (Isaiah 14:12-13). Some theologians have argued against this association. Indeed, some exorcists like Father Amorth say that Lucifer and Satan are two distinct demons. Despite this, however, the tradition of associating Lucifer with the Devil continues, even as the Catholic Church maintains that the name “Lucifer” symbolizes the state from which the Devil has fallen and is not a proper name.
