Deliver Us from Evil (28 page)

Back at the little chapel in Connecticut, Bishop McKenna was also under attack. “We had Michael roped into a chair in front of the altar,” the exorcist told me when I reviewed the case with him. “There was a strong sheet wrapped around his arms, but this tiny man slipped out of these bonds as easily as Houdini. Six large men were present to restrain him, but he struggled so furiously that it taxed their strength to the ultimate. Michael had a weak, quavering voice, but when the demon came forth, he spoke in a deep, harsh tone of tremendous menace, making many gruesome threats. ‘I'll kill you,' this devil howled—and indeed, he would have done me in, right there in my church, if he could. But in the end, these were vain threats, because the Devil can do no more than God permits.

“I have an audiocassette of this exorcism, and it shocks the wits out of all who hear it. The Devil ranted and roared terrible protests at my prayers, yet as soon as I'd stop exorcising Michael, he'd immediately come to himself and be polite and pleasant. His fury was extreme when I applied relics of St. Dominick, the founder of my order; St. Vincent Ferrer, also a saint from my order; St. Catherine of Siena; and St. Patrick.”

Relics, I reminded my students as I shared the bishop's recollections, are extremely potent weapons against the demonic. It's not that Catholics consider bones, ashes, hair, or clothing from saints, or splinters from the cross Jesus died on magical, as some people outside our faith mistakenly argue. Instead, they are holy because they embody miracles of God. The Bible offers several examples of this: The Book of Kings describes a dead man who was brought back to life after his body touched bones from the prophet Elisha, while Acts relates how handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched the body of St. Paul were then used to expel evil spirits or cure the sick. This shows that God sanctions the use of relics to drive out satanic forces in His name.

In Michael's exorcism, one particular relic elicited some extremely revealing remarks from the demon, the bishop recalled. “When I held up a crucifix containing a piece of the True Cross that I wear on my breast and adjured this devil to depart, he pointed a finger at the cross and said something I'll never forget. ‘You weren't supposed to die,' the demon shouted, indicating that Satan knew all along that the crucifixion would be his undoing. If the Devil could have prevented Our Savior from sacrificing His life to save mankind, he surely would have.”

A picture of the Virgin Mary also had a remarkable effect, the exorcist added. “The demon howled and pointed a finger at Our Blessed Lady. In a low, tormented voice, he said, ‘She wasn't supposed to say yes.' This confirmed that I was dealing with an evil spirit—no ordinary human being of faith would ever condemn Mary for having consented to be the Mother of God. During the Annunciation, when the angel Gabriel told her that she would conceive Our Savior, she replied, to the Devil's eternal torment, ‘Behold the handmaiden of the Lord, be done unto me according to Thy word.' By saying yes, as the demon well knew, she brought Jesus Christ to this world, who later became the first exorcist.”

No miracles occurred at Michael's first exorcism—or the second, which Joe assisted in. “I'd stayed away from the original exorcism because I'd just started in the Work and didn't feel I was holy enough to be at an exorcism,” my partner told the class.

Several students nodded in apparent sympathy, and I remembered feeling the same way myself. Even after I rediscovered my faith and got into the Work, nobody ever accused me of being a saint. “Ralph, you have a lot of rough edges, but so does the Devil,” Ed Warren once said. I took that as a compliment. So I could understand why the students—or my partner—would question their spiritual fitness.

For the second exorcism, continued Joe, “The bishop convinced me that as a lifelong Catholic, I
was
up to the job. It was my very first exorcism, so I didn't realize until later how extraordinary Michael's ritual was. At certain points, the back of his head bulged out a good two or three inches and began pulsating. He looked like a space alien with a big, throbbing brain. I've never seen anything like this in my entire life: It was like a Hollywood special effect on
Star Trek.
”

During this exorcism, which was tape-recorded, the demon repeatedly babbled in a language no one understood, frequently using a word that sounded like “sarabande.” When my partner later played this tape to language professors at a local college, one identified the tongue as a mix of Spanish and Portuguese. Since the only foreign language Michael knew was Hebrew, his otherwise inexplicable knowledge of these languages supported Joe's theory that the curse Michael was under originated in some form of Brazilian sorcery, perhaps based on Bantu or Congo beliefs.

“Years ago an exorcist from the Vatican said that the toughest cases of all involved black magic of this type,” my partner said, while the expressions on our investigators' faces became increasingly grave.

Ultimately this exorcism failed, as did five subsequent rituals held over the next few years. Since Joe wasn't at these rituals, I asked the bishop about them. Sounding very tired and sorrowful, the man of God described these epic struggles as the most harrowing he'd ever experienced in all his years as an exorcist. “We had repeated sessions lasting for days on end, all of them so violent as to exhaust those who restrained Michael. I'd go on for many hours at a time trying to exorcise him, because from the way he was acting, I never knew if at the next instant the demon would be gone. I didn't want to give up if there was any chance the Devil was weakening and might leave. Finally Michael's restrainers would plead with me to break if off because their strength was giving out.

“At one session, I had only one nun to help me, yet all by herself she was able to restrain Michael. I was never so frightened in my life as I was that he might break loose and kill me, but the Lord in His providence kept us safe from harm. I'm ever grateful to God for this, but that nun later left our order. Again, as soon as the exorcism stopped, so did the danger because the Devil quieted right down.”

Bishop McKenna paused and gave a long sigh before he finished his story. “Unfortunately, I wasn't able to help Michael much or deliver him from the demon.”

Nor could several other exorcists of various faiths the housepainter consulted, all of whom fell victim to the same curse that afflicted Michael. Each time the Brazilian scorpion stung in a different way. A Lutheran pastor who worked with the painter for four futile years developed life-threatening health problems, while a Catholic priest who planned an exorcism for him had to cancel it after receiving a telegram that his mother had died—three days before the scheduled ritual. The Catholic father returned from the funeral and scheduled a new ceremony only to have his church burn down shortly before the appointed day.

Yet another clergyman involved in this case lost his ministry after being falsely accused of child abuse. A Protestant preacher suffered many strange calamities and mysteriously dropped out of sight soon after participating in a deliverance ritual for Michael. His fate is unknown, but I suspect that his spirit was broken by the holy war he'd endured.

If all this wasn't enough to scare the wits out of our students, Joe had one final warning. Recounting his phone conversation with the painter, he told the class that Michael's final remark about wanting to swap places with someone else might be no joke. “I don't think any of us can truly understand how desperate this man is. I have a hunch that somehow he's made a bargain with the demon for a transference to take place during the exorcism. If we're not extremely careful, someone could end up being possessed!”

Our students were clearly shocked—and a bit skeptical. “Do you really think he'd try to do such a thing?” Rose asked. “Is it even possible?”

“We have to be prepared for any kind of attack, even an attempt at possession,” Joe emphasized. “There's no evil the demonic won't stoop to—and this man has endured so much that his spirit is broken. He wouldn't care if another person had to suffer in his place, if that meant his suffering would be over. He said he'd do
anything
to be free.”

I urged our students to take every spiritual precaution, both for themselves and their families. “Civilians can be attacked too,” I cautioned. “If you have a relative whose faith isn't strong, that person could be a weak link in our battle. Help that family member get in a better relationship with God.”

The students looked grimmer than ever now that Joe had fully described the dangers they'd be braving, should they decide to assist with Michael's eighth exorcism. During the class, I also got a little “warning” that the Devil didn't like what we were up to. We listened to some of the tapes of Michael's previous exorcisms, but not all. Knowing that any time this particular demon is discussed, creepy phenomena occur, I went upstairs during a break in the class to check on my dog, Max. Jen was out at the movies with Christina.

I found the door of my apartment flung wide open—even though no one else was at home, and I'd locked it myself. Since I have guns in my home, I am extremely careful to keep the door secured at all times, yet unless Max, my dog, had learned to unlock and open doors, I knew I'd just gotten a visit from the demonic. Yes, it was a minor thing, and I thank God for that, but in retrospect, it was also the first hint of the harm and suffering this exorcism would bring me—and everyone else involved. As I was about to discover, the demonic never forget and never stop seeking vengeance.

 

11

THE SEPTEMBER CURSE

We decided to hold Michael's exorcism over a three-day period, with the last ritual, if needed, to be performed on September 14, a holy day, the Triumph of the Cross. This date commemorates a seventh-century victory where a Christian emperor regained relics of the cross Jesus died on from a Persian ruler who had stolen them. To ready ourselves, Joe and I both purified our bodies and spirits with our usual, pre-exorcism black fast. On the day of the exorcism, we visited our respective churches, confessed our sins, and received Holy Communion, so we'd be in a state of grace.

The exorcism began on a Friday morning. Phil, Antonio, and Scott volunteered to assist, while Rose sat in the back of Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel and supported us with her prayers. I spent the first fifteen minutes of the ritual puking my guts out. I had knelt in front of Michael to check his leg restraints, and when I did, I got a whiff of an incredibly foul odor, one of the signs of possession listed in the Roman Ritual. I won't be melodramatic and say it was worse than rotting flesh—a stench I've had the misfortune to encounter more than once on the Job—but it was close. It's hard to describe what it smelled like, definitely not fire and brimstone, as you might imagine, but sort of like decomposing garbage. After vomiting in the bucket we put out for the exorcee, I went outside so I wouldn't disrupt the ritual. Since I had very little in my stomach after my fast, I stood in the church parking lot dry-heaving all over the place, until I felt that with the next heave my entire stomach would come up.

Finally I returned to the exorcism, making damned sure not to walk in front of the old man. The bishop was still reciting the Litany of the Saints, so I tried to slip inconspicuously into the pew. Michael instantly turned to me with a very nasty grin and said, “Looks like you need an exorcism too!”

I kept silent. No one should speak to a possessed person during an exorcism except the priest. I run my cases like a police operation, and if there's one piece of discipline I particularly impress on my investigators, it's this: Talking to a demon can cause an assistant to be attacked or even become possessed.

Although each exorcism is different, and the Roman Ritual permits the priest to add whatever he feels is necessary to free the possessed, there are certain questions an exorcist always asks, such as, “What is your name, evil spirit?” Being a Traditionalist Catholic, Bishop McKenna always asks them in Latin and then, if there's no reply, in English. I remember how utterly amazed the bishop was at one exorcism when the exorcee, a high school dropout, needed no translation: She gave an appropriate answer in English to each Latin question. More remarkable still was a nearly illiterate farmer, who actually gave his replies in fluent Latin!

At times, the name the demon gives will correspond to its method of attack or a weakness it exploited to take control of the person. Father Martin wrote about a possessed woman whose face was fixed in a ghastly, twisted grin. During her chilling exorcism, the satanic spirit gave its name as “Smiler.” In sharp contrast to this harmless-sounding name was the effect it had on the priest, who suddenly found himself overcome by supernatural despair, feeling that God, Heaven, Earth, goodness, and evil were somehow “a cosmic joke on little men who in their turn are only puny little jokes.” As the demon smirked, the exorcist slipped into the trap of wondering if all of existence was just a meaningless farce, then collected himself—and commanded Smiler to depart.

Some believe that once the evil power gives its name, the spirit is loosening its grasp and will be cast out. If so, the response when Bishop McKenna asked this question wasn't encouraging, since the demon said nothing. Nor did it react to the next question, “When did you enter?” Clearly we'd reached the pretense stage.

Like an experienced police interrogator, the bishop never let up the pressure. “Devil, I adjure you, in the name of Jesus Christ, to reveal
how
you entered.”

This question is asked because the demonic often enter through one of the chakra points: the body's centers of psychic energy, which run in a vertical line from the base of the spine to the top of the head. From these points flows the aura, the spiritual protection that surrounds each person. If you are free from sin, your aura is very strong and intact, but if you let your faith slip away, it develops breaks and chinks that can let the demonic in. A weak aura attracts diabolical spirits; a strong one repels them. If the exorcist can find out which physical entry point the satanic spirit used, he can then apply relics to that area and cause the demon great torment that may spur it to flee.