The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist (23 page)

However, Dr. Hyland is quick to point out that it is not entirely clear how and why the placebo effect works. “Even so, I can only explain ten percent of the variance; I can't explain much variance.”

One of the theories he looked at in the hopes of going deeper was quantum entanglement, the principle stating that when two particles become entangled, then an observation made on one particle has an instantaneous effect on the behavior of the other particle, no matter where that particle is. If true, quantum entanglement could help to explain how things like healing from a distance, or the power of prayer, actually work. At present, however, Dr. Hyland is not entirely convinced that there is enough evidence to support this theory. “People say since funny things happen in the quantum world they must also happen in the macro world, and that may or may not be true.”

For sheer ingenuity, perhaps no one has gone further in trying to debunk the world of the transcendent than Canadian neuroscientist Michael Persinger, who conducted a series of experiments in which he tried to prove that the major components of certain “mystical” experiences, especially Near Death Experiences (NDEs), could be recreated by stimulating the temporal-lobe region of the brain with electric current. In order to do this, Persinger created a magnetic device—which he termed the “God helmet”—that was supposed to be able to simulate the sensations that accompany mystical experiences and NDEs, namely floating outside the body, having a sense of profound meaning, seeing a tunnel of white light, and so on.

As some critics have noted, however, the results of his experiments are far from conclusive, mostly leaving people with a feeling of slight wooziness, and not the coherent and lucid experiences described by those claiming to have had NDEs. Even British author and evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins, who used the helmet in 2003 and felt nothing more than a shortness of breath and slight twitching in his leg, said he was “very disappointed” by the results.

In addition, some have pointed out the faulty assumptions behind the concept. As Bruce Greyson states in
Varieties of Anomalous Experience: Examining the Scientific Evidence
, “Correlating a brain state with an experience does not necessarily imply that brain states cause the experience; the brain state may alternatively allow access to or simply reflect the experience.” As one critic put it, knowing how a television set works doesn't necessarily shed light on the origin of the signal.

Inherent, of course, in the failures of some of these theories, say religious believers, is the problem of trying to weigh and measure that which may not fit into a laboratory namely spirits. Believers decry the attitude of critics that they say discounts the value of faith and tries to skew the argument toward the scientific (and especially materialist) canon, an argument that might be paraphrased something like this: Since we can prove a possible natural cause for the occurrence of something, then the onus is on you to show us the proof of your “supernatural” cause. This implies that any “proof” of a supernatural cause would have to be scientific in order for it to be considered legitimate or real. But are scientific standards really the only criteria that matter? In his refutation, theologian John Haught describes a concept that he calls “layered explanation,” which can be illustrated by answers to the question, Why does a pot of water boil on a stove? One answer is to say that the water is boiling because the H
₂
0 molecules are moving around and making a transition from a liquid state to a gaseous one. Another answer would be that the water is boiling because someone turned the stove on. A third answer could be that it's boiling because a person wants a cup of tea. All are valid answers but offer very different levels of understanding. For a person of faith, the scientific explanation seems valid only to a certain degree.

Perhaps not surprisingly, some doctors and scientists are trying to bridge this supposed gap between science and religion.

In their book,
The Spiritual Brain
, neuroscientist Mario Beauregard and journalist Denyse O'Leary argue against the belief that humans are nothing more than “biological automatons,” and that spiritual experiences are simply the result of synapses firing in the brain. Instead, using a variety of scientific analyses, the authors propose a nonmaterialist view of neuroscience in which the mind is separate from the body. For instance, in looking at Dr. Schwartz's study on OCD and the way patients were able to reorder the neural pathways of their brain, Beauregard and O'Leary stipulated that for this to work, there must be some outside agent running the show.

Similarly, in looking at “mystical experiences” (defined by the authors as “the experience of certain mystical contact with a higher truth or a greater power underlying the universe”), Beauregard used brain-scan imagery on a group of Carmelite nuns who were in a deep contemplative state in order to find out which areas of the brain are most active during such states. The scans showed that when these nuns reported having mystical experiences, rather than being isolated in a single area of the brain (the left temporal lobe, for example) the experiences neurally engaged different regions of the brain responsible for a variety of functions, including self-consciousness, emotion, visual and motor imagery, and spiritual perception. To Beauregard and O'Leary this finding suggests not only that these mystical experiences are as complex and multidimensional as the people who have them claim they are, but also that these experiences are the products of a healthy and functioning brain and not some simple “trick” or defect of the brain.

Dr. Craig Isaacs, a psychiatrist from San Francisco who also happens to be an Anglican priest, is another person trying to bridge the divide. In the course of his work in both areas, Dr. Isaacs has treated numerous patients for mental illness. However, he is convinced that some of the people he has seen are suffering from a demonic possession, and in that case he has prayed prayers of deliverance over them.

According to Dr. Isaacs, the key to distinguishing between the two is in differentiating the source: “Is the ego perceiving something from within the psyche or is it coming from outside the soul?” In other words, is the person imagining that he is speaking to a being (such as a child who has an imaginary friend) or is he really contacting a separate entity, something that Dr. Isaacs refers to as the “wholly other”? In his research, Dr. Isaacs has discovered five qualities that the ego experiences when encountering the wholly other: First, the patient experiences the phenomena as coming from outside himself; second, the experience is numinous; third, the experience is accompanied by numinous fear or awe; fourth, there is unusual clarity associated with the experience; and fifth, when a vision is involved there is almost always some form of luminosity, either a shadow or a beautiful light.

The criteria are not common to psychosis, claims Dr. Isaacs. And depending on the therapist's school of thought, he says, one may address this problem inadequately or not at all.

Dr. Isaacs believes in the concept that a human being consists of a “tripartite nature,” composed of body-soul-spirit, an idea that comes from 1 Thessalonians 5:23. This understanding can then be carried over into illness, for if a person is tripartite, then so too would be the various sicknesses that could affect him or her in one or more of these functions.

In this model, sickness of the body is caused by disease, normally cured through medicine, while the second category, sickness of the soul (that is, neurotic and psychotic behaviors) is caused by “a breakdown in one of [the soul's] functions,” the cure for which can be psychotherapy or prayers of inner healing. The third category, “sickness of the spirit,” is caused by either personal sin or the demonic and can lead to what Dr. Isaacs calls “existential neuroses”—in which the patient may feel “a loss of freedom or the loss of meaning in life.” If the cause is sin, then the patient will be helped through repentance and forgiveness; if demonic, then through an exorcism or a prayer of deliverance.

Since all the functions of a human being are interrelated, any illness in one function can affect the others. “Thus, spiritual illness may also be seen to affect the volition of the soul, or an illness of the soul may affect the actions of the body,” says Dr. Isaacs.

W
HILE IT IS CLEAR
that advances in science and medicine
have
been able to explain why many people claiming to be possessed by an evil spirit may actually feel a genuine sense of healing after undergoing an exorcism, several questions still remain. Paranormal events—mind reading, levitation, speaking in previously unknown foreign Ianguages —continue to elude scientific explanation. Perhaps one day science will be able to explain why these things happen. Until then, however, it would seem a betrayal of the tenets of scientific curiosity to discount a whole range of experiences affecting the lives of so many people simply because they defy such explanation.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ORGANIZING THE MINISTRY

The profession of exorcism has meaning if we as exorcists, through possession and exorcism, prove that God is not only present but stronger. This is a path of faith and I always tell that to the families I meet with in a parish where there is a possessed person. It is through the grace of God that these people can rediscover the evangelical message of our faith.

—
Father Giancarlo Gramolazzo

I
n late March, Father Gary's bishop, along with other priests from the diocese of San Francisco and San Jose, came to Rome for the ceremony creating Archbishop Levada as cardinal. And though only in town for a week, the bishop found time to talk with Father Gary about his new assignment. Back in November, when Father Gary was just four months into his sabbatical, his bishop had asked if he would be willing to take over as pastor of Sacred Heart Parish in Saratoga, California. The two sat in the reading room of the Casa one day, discussing the past and Father Gary's desire to bring renewal to the parish.

With that business out of the way, his bishop asked him how the exorcism training was going, no doubt half expecting to hear a few dry remarks about a classroom, lectures, and textbooks. Instead he was shocked when Father Gary told him that he'd seen around fifteen exorcisms that week alone.

“You mean you've actually
seen
an exorcism?” his bishop asked.

“I've seen about sixty,” Father Gary said, correcting him.

His bishop listened intently as Father Gary briefly described some of the scenes out at San Lorenzo. He mentioned Father Carmine's—and other Italian exorcists’—complaints that some bishops didn't take them seriously. As he talked, Father Gary was careful to reiterate how grateful he was to have had the opportunity to come to Rome and study. “Without the training, I wouldn't have known the first thing about how to proceed,” he told his bishop. It was a natural segue into the practical concerns of getting other American exorcists trained. “If every diocese is supposed to have an exorcist then we have a hell of a lot of work to do.” It just wasn't practical to ask priests to come all the way over to Rome for four months to take the course. One positive development came in the form of a conference in the Midwest that he was planning to attend in August. Apparently the coordinators were attempting to organize something modeled on the conferences of the International Association of Exorcists. This seemed like a good place to start.

He and his bishop also needed to establish a protocol for when someone approached him about exorcism. Since he'd need to get his bishop's permission before proceeding, a system had to be worked out. His bishop promised that they would set it in place when Father Gary got back.

In the meantime, Father Gary shared his ideas about the kind of “exorcism team” he wanted to assemble. Because he was still concerned about discernment, he planned to err on the side of caution and vet potential “patients” through either a psychiatrist or a psychologist. The challenge would be to find competent doctors who believed in the possibility of demonic possession but who weren't overzealous about it, something Father Gary realized could be just as harmful as being too skeptical. In addition, he anticipated having a medical doctor and perhaps a historical theologian (something recommended by an exorcist at the Angelicum). Beyond the medical team, he'd enlist Father Kevin (also for his ability to speak Spanish) and a couple of other priests as possible helpers. He didn't think he was going to use a prayer group just yet (something Father Bamonte had recommended). Because Father Carmine had told him how ashamed people could feel, he thought it prudent to avoid distractions or the potential embarrassment that might result from bringing strangers into the room. At the minimum he would do what Father Carmine did, which was to offer up the person's name at mass.

As their meeting came to a close, his bishop told him he was impressed with Father Gary's intentions and reiterated his support.

E
VEN BEFORE MEETING WITH HIS BISHOP
, Father Gary had been thinking about the day when he would have to perform an exorcism. He already knew—based on his own experience with depression— that he wanted to establish a measured, calm approach that could help put people at ease and create the right kind of environment for healing. He had been turned off by some of the more “fundamentalist” books he had read attributing just about every problem under the sun—doubt, fear, alcoholism, greed—to a demon. He found that “theologically troubling.” As C. S. Lewis so famously said in
The Screwtape Letters
, “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.”

For this reason, he planned on starting out small. The first thing he'd probably do would be to ask a series of questions: Do you go to mass? Do you worship or pray? When was the last time you went to confession? If the answers were no, he would most likely get the sufferer to start going back to church and the sacraments before he would perform an exorcism. Of course, he would still offer a simple blessing.

But would it be that easy to convince people to follow this cautious approach?

He knew from his experiences at Saint Nicholas, where some of his techno-conscious former parishioners had to have the latest piece of gadgetry that it wasn't going to be easy to ask people to slow down and invest their time in something that may not show immediate results. “We are a culture of instant gratification,” he would later say, voicing a criticism that virtually every exorcist shares.

Months later, Father Vince would have a similar experience when he tried to get a woman who came to see him to return to mass. “It is almost like people want to believe in the extreme,” says Father Vince. “I am happy to pray with people; but if I tell them that they need to start going back to the Church and taking advantage of the sacraments, they look at me like I am crazy for actually suggesting that they practice their faith. And I know if I told them to go out and do the extreme, ‘Go stand on your lawn and swing a dead chicken around your head and you will be fine,’ they would do that. But just going to mass or confession—they think that is kind of mundane.”

There would be other challenges as well, some of them uniquely American. Whereas Italy is basically a monocultural (predominantly Catholic) society America is anything but. In Father Gary's estimate, in the diocese of San Jose alone, more than one hundred different languages are spoken. There is a sizable Vietnamese community in town, as well as a large Hispanic population. He would have to know a little about the cultural mores of the various immigrant groups (as well as their traditions) if he was going to become an effective exorcist.

Father Gary didn't pretend to have all the answers. He hoped to be able to share information and get advice from some of the other exorcists in the United States who might have more experience. He had talked to Father Vince as well as to an exorcist he knew in Nebraska about the need to begin networking. The problem was the paucity of exorcists. Father Gary had heard the number was somewhere around fourteen officially appointed exorcists in the entire United States. In addition, as he'd shared with his bishop, some of these exorcists had received no formal training beyond being handed the
Ritual.
Just trying to work out a common approach would present a challenge, never mind battling a demon.

A
T THE BEGINNING OF LENT
, Father Gary began participating in mass each morning at one of the old titular houses, original house churches used by early Christians when nascent Christianity was still outlawed. Each morning he would get up around 5:30 and set out from the Casa along with about sixty other priests to walk to the one designated for that day of Lent. Typically, the priests would take turns saying mass at the different churches. When it was Father Gary's turn, he said mass in San Martino ai Monti, a tiny church where it was rumored that the Nicene Creed had been read aloud for the first time. The experience offered him a very real reminder of the traditions of the Church and once again helped him to reconnect to the roots of his faith.

During this time he also continued witnessing exorcisms three days a week out at San Lorenzo, along with Father Vince. Almost all the people were repeat cases, and by now Father Gary was an old hand and knew what to expect, though there were still a few surprises. During one exorcism, a woman seemed to come out of the trance on her own and say in a normal voice, “Okay, I'm fine. You can stop praying now.” Father Carmine studied her carefully and then threw some holy water onto her, causing the demon to explode with rage.

After the sessions, Father Gary and Father Vince continued to compare notes over a coffee. Father Gary was still frustrated that there wasn't much time to ask questions. The language barrier persisted as well, even for Father Carmine. After one evening of exorcisms, Father Gary suggested that the three of them schedule an hour to sit down and talk and have the English-speaking layman he'd met at dinner translate for them.

A few weeks after meeting with his bishop, Father Gary was asked to give a talk to a group of priests in the continuing education program whom Father Vince had regaled with stories from San Lorenzo. Worried that they might one day have to face off against a demon themselves, they asked Father Gary if he'd be willing to share his knowledge as well.

The talk took place in the common room of the NAC, used by the seminarians as a sort of TV and game room that included a large collection of travel guides. About sixteen priests, most in their mid-fifties, showed up for the talk. Perhaps not surprisingly, all had at least one story to tell, either about a candle that mysteriously blew out while they were giving a blessing in a windowless room, or having run-ins with parishioners who claimed to be cursed. One priest from Amityville, New York, even described an order of nuns in the diocese that he said had begun practicing Wicca.

Father Gary was his usual candid self, tucking his Roman collar into his front shirt pocket and giving the priests his standard stump speech on the topic: Take the person seriously, ask questions, don't rule out the possibility of demonic possession but don't rush to judgment, and always be conscious that the person is suffering deeply. “Evil takes many forms, and I think becoming more aware of it through our own spiritual lives will make us better priests. If we want to be able to guide someone else, we have to be aware of evil while not being paranoid about it. But I think if we are oblivious to it, or our own prayer life doesn't cause us to enter into the deeper mystery of it, then I don't think we are serving our people well.”

When the talk was over, everyone clapped.

Afterward, Father Gary and a friend ate at a noisy, packed pizzeria located just off Corso Vittorio Emanuele II. He was happy with how the talk went, but in truth he had something else on his mind. In a little over two weeks, it would be time for him to return to California.