The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist (10 page)

As T
HEY WALKED BACK
to the train station following class, Father Gary discussed some of the finer points of the day's lecture with Father Daniel. Perhaps as a result of his experiences as an embalmer, or the fact that he had survived a near-death hiking accident in 1997, he wasn't worried about being physically attacked by a demon. If he feared anything, it was performing an exorcism on someone who didn't need it. And while the course had taught him a lot, he realized that the only way to put his fears to rest would be to actually participate in an exorcism.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SEARCHING FOR AN EXORCIST

An exorcist works all his life between being admired and thanked by some and bitterly despised and persecuted by others … God desires that this ministry always be done from the cross. If a priest is not willing to bear this burden, he should not accept this ministry.

—
Father José Antonio Fortea
, Interview with an Exorcist

O
n a typical Tuesday morning, a small crowd gathers outside the Scala Santa by 8:30, even though the large wooden doors won't open for another half an hour. Most are women, ranging in age from their mid-twenties to late sixties, their outfits running the gamut from shawls and brooches to hip-hugging jeans and leather jackets. Milling around, some people pass the time chatting, others avoid eye contact. In addition to the normal purses and backpacks, several carry large plastic grocery sacks filled with various items, such as religious candles and plastic water bottles.

The Scala Santa or Church of the Holy Staircase has always held a unique place among the churches of Rome, drawing countless pilgrims over the years to its venerated sanctum sanctorum (Holy of Holies), the personal chapel of the popes, which the devout reach by climbing a special staircase, thought to be the very stairs from Pontius Pilate's palace in Jerusalem that Christ climbed on the day of his death (brought back to Rome by Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine in the fourth century). Pilgrims climb the twenty-eight steps on their knees, pausing at each one to say a prayer. Encased now in protective wood, the original steps can still be glimpsed through small glass windows that supposedly reveal actual drops of Christ's blood.

And yet, beyond the chapel and the stairs, among Romans, the church has a long association with exorcism. For thirty-six years, the Passionist priest Father Candido Amantini performed exorcisms there until he died in 1992. Long thought of as a holy man, even among exorcists, Father Candido had an open-door policy toward exorcism, never turning anybody away. It was rumored that he saw around sixty people every day, and while not everybody needed an exorcism, he tried to at least give them a simple blessing or even just a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

When Father Tommaso took over, this open-door policy was maintained. Even as the church continues to be a major attraction for tourists and pilgrims, exorcisms and blessings are performed around the clock, screams and all.

For half an hour, most of the women wait patiently outside the church; as more show up, the ones closest to the door begin jockeying for position. A few minutes later, they hear the telltale jingle of keys from behind the door followed by the click of the lock, and even before the sour-faced custodian has time to swing the door all the way open, the women begin filing through. Hurrying past him, they sidestep the historic steps and proceed instead toward one of the two side staircases. Climbing, they move in a rush past the sanctum sanctorum, through the Saint Lawrence Chapel, until they reach the door to the sacristy. One half expects to see a red ribbon stretched across the corridor.

Instead, everyone takes a place, as if settling into a favorite chair. One woman bends onto a small wooden kneeler right outside the door while others slide into a ten-foot wooden pew that runs the length of the wall. More branch off to a nearby chapel, where they kneel in front of a life-sized representation of Christ on the cross. A few clutch rosaries, their fingers moving anxiously over the beads as their lips mouth silent prayers. Others keep their eyes down. By now around twenty people have gathered, and still more trickle in. One of these is an attractive young woman who walks past everyone to stand next to the door. A few people eye her and shift nervously, but otherwise seem not to mind that she has cut in line. One of the latecomers, a man in his sixties, asks the woman on the kneeler, “Is he seeing anyone right now?” The woman shakes her head.

Somebody nearby pipes in, “I just have to get a quick blessing and then I'll go.”

The woman on the kneeler flashes the speaker a dirty look and says,
“He
decides who goes in first.”

“Who gets chosen to go in?” someone else asks.

“He performs exorcisms first and then blessings afterward,” the woman on the kneeler explains.

Someone pulls out a piece of paper and people begin writing their names down, as if waiting for a table at a restaurant. Most have places to go in the afternoon and a few sigh and cluck their tongues when they see themselves at the bottom of the list.

As if on cue, the door opens and Father Tommaso pokes his head out, his tired eyes searching. A few people near the door turn to him, but his presence keeps them back; it's clear that nobody wants to get on his bad side. He nods to the attractive woman who'd cut in line, and she enters, the door shutting behind them.

In the ensuing silence, the people settle back into their slumped postures. Then, suddenly from the sacristy comes a sound like a wolverine that has gotten loose and is knocking down all the chairs. A high-pitched scream, followed by a woman's voice shouting
“Basta!,”
disrupts the silence. Then comes moaning and howling as if someone were being tortured. Some clutch their rosaries tighter. Some try to move out of earshot, but inside the cold, marble-floored sanctuary, sounds carry far.

W
HEN FATHER GARY ASKED
about finding an exorcist with whom to apprentice, Father Daniel's first thought was to ask Father Tommaso. However, the exorcist was too busy to take on another student. While Father Gary was disappointed, Father Daniel reassured him by saying, “You won't learn much there anyway. The place is insane.”

Over the ensuing month, Father Gary continued to look for an exorcist he could work with, a task that proved more daunting than he'd imagined. Even a cardinal whom he met in the halls of the NAC one day was unable to help. With his limited Italian, Father Gary needed an exorcist who spoke a little English, and according to a reply he received from the dean of the Lateran University, there weren't any.

Finally, Father Daniel contacted one of the exorcists who helped teach the course. A few days later, he called Father Gary back with good news. Father Bamonte, who had studied under Father Amorth and who had been performing exorcisms since 2003, said he would be willing to take on Father Gary as a last resort (he was not thrilled, largely because of the language barrier). In the meantime, Father Bamonte suggested that Father Gary contact a Capuchin by the name of Father Carmine De Filippis, who he thought knew a little English.

As he got off the phone with Father Daniel, Father Gary was guardedly optimistic about this latest turn of events.

D
ECEMBER ROLLED IN
and Rome's famous
sampietrini
cobblestones grew cold and wet. The exorcism course had shut down for the month, so Father Gary took the time to enjoy the holiday season. There was a special mass and dinner held at the Casa on Christmas Eve; and then, on the following day, Father Gary was a Eucharistic minister at Saint Peter's Basilica during the midnight mass presided over by the pope. Afterward, despite the bitterly cold wind, the square was packed with revelers. By the time he and the other priests walked back to the Casa, it was 3:30 in the morning and the streets were absolutely still.

A few days later, Father Gary and another priest from the Casa, Father Paul Hrezzo, decided to take a little side trip together, traveling to Vienna for a few days and then on to Medjugorje in Bosnia-Hercegovina for New Year's Eve. There, the two presided over mass for the English pilgrims visiting the shrine and spent five restful days meditating and praying.

O
N JANUARY
9, the second half of the exorcism course commenced at the Regina Apostolorum. Much like the first half, things got off to a bad start for Father Gary. His translator was a no-show, forcing him to comb the halls looking for a replacement, which he couldn't find. As it turned out, the lecture was on Italian law, so it wasn't a huge loss.

Now that the holiday season was over and things were beginning to return to normal in Rome, he was able to finally get through to Father Carmine (pronounced Car-me-nay), the exorcist Father Bamonte recommended. In his best Italian, Father Gary tried to explain his dilemma. Father Carmine listened patiently for a few minutes and then cut in. “Yes, yes,” he said in Italian, “I'd be happy to help you, but you need to check with my superior first.”

Hanging up the phone, Father Gary was relieved.
Maybe this is just a formality that Father Carmine asks all his apprentices to go through
, he thought. When he finally got in touch with the superior two days later, however, he hit a dead end. Not only was the man
not
Father Carmine's superior, but he'd never heard of the exorcist. Funny, though, he did speak a little English and had relatives in San Jose, so Father Gary ended up chatting with him for quite some time. In the end, Father Gary figured that Father Carmine had probably given him the brush-off.
He doesn't know me
, he thought,
he probably just wants to get rid of me.

The following Thursday at the exorcism course, he approached Father Daniel at the break and told him what had happened. As luck would have it, Father Bamonte was lecturing that day, so Father Daniel approached him to ask one last time if he would help Father Gary. After a few minutes, Father Daniel returned with a gloomy look on his face. “I don't know why, but he won't do it,” he sighed.

This is getting ridiculous
, Father Gary thought. “I am going home soon and won't know the first thing about exorcism,” he lamented to Father Daniel.

“Try calling Father Carmine again,” Father Daniel said.

Back at the Casa that evening, Father Gary was on the verge of calling his bishop to tell him he would have to nominate somebody else but instead decided to go to the chapel to pray. “God,” he said, as he sat in a wooden pew, “if you want me to do this, you are going to have to help me.”