The Devil is Real

Eight hundred years ago in Belgium, as a third of Europe was dying of the Bubonic Plague, a group of men quit their jobs and dedicated themselves to tending the sick and the dying.  They became known as the Alexian Brothers, named after St. Alexis of Rome. The new religious order distinguished itself by accepting […]

The Devil is Real

Eight hundred years ago in Belgium, as a third of Europe was dying of the Bubonic Plague, a group of men quit their jobs and dedicated themselves to tending the sick and the dying.  They became known as the Alexian Brothers, named after St. Alexis of Rome.

The new religious order distinguished itself by accepting patients no one else wanted, including those who suffered from mental disorders.  Caring for the mentally ill then became a charism of the Alexian Brothers. They came to America in the 1800s, starting hospitals in Chicago in 1866 and St. Louis in 1869. 

As a young man, my father studied nursing under the Alexian Brothers.  In 1955, when he was 20 years old, my father did clinical studies at their St. Louis hospital.  He was assigned to the psych ward.

Strangely, there was a room on the fifth floor, that had been sealed off for years.  People asked questions, but the hospital staff remained tight-lipped about the room—one rumored to be associated with evil noises and dark phenomenon.

An exorcism had taken place there in 1949. 

A good article from a few years back recounts that in January of that year a thirteen-year-old Maryland boy was given a Ouija board by his spiritualist aunt.  She then died, and the boy became hooked on the game, playing it for hours on end, and using the board in attempts to contact his dead aunt.  

Strange noises, like the constant dripping of water and a sound like claws scratching under the bedroom floor began.  Then his parents started noticing scratch marks, welts, and bruises on their son’s skin.  The physical abnormalities were coupled with an acute change in personality, as the once quiet and timid boy became angry and violent.  But it was only after the boy started speaking in Latin, a language he had no way of knowing, that the parents sought help for their only child.

After consulting a medical doctor, psychologists, psychiatrists, and a psychic, the parents finally turned to their Protestant minister.  After observing the boy’s bed, with the boy on it, moving back and forth and rising off the floor, the shocked minister—long leery of “superstitious” Catholicism—told the boy’s parents, “You have to see a Catholic priest. The Catholics know about things like this.”

Shortly thereafter, the family moved to St. Louis to live with relatives.  A niece who went to the Jesuit St. Louis University told her priest-professor about her cousin.  And after an evaluation of the boy, a priest, known to be “totally fearless,” was sent by the archbishop to perform an exorcism.

The exorcism went on for over a month, during which the exorcist and his priest-assistants “endured unspeakable insults, blasphemies, filthy language, and even physical violence from the devils who possessed the boy.”  At the beginning of the process, the priests also heard the demon claim that if the boy would say just one word, he would depart him.  But the demon promised that was not going to happen.

The priests and hospital staff were forbidden to speak of the exorcism, but years later the priest’s diary of the event was found in an abandoned desk drawer.  An author got his hands on it, and a best-selling book loosely based on the events, titled The Exorcist, was published in 1971.  Hollywood made it into a huge movie in 1973.  

When the priest first visited the possessed boy on March 11, 1949, he found him visibly upset by an evil presence in the room.  The priest “boldly placed his beads around the terrified boy’s neck and began to pray the Rosary.”  He then told the boy about the three shepherd children at Fatima, Portugal.  Those children, around the boy’s age, were given the special privilege of seeing the Virgin Mary and praying the Rosary with her.  Fascinated with the Fatima story, the boy inquired about the Catholic Faith and over the next few weeks, he took instruction, was baptized and received First Communion.  His parents converted as well.

April 10, 1949, was Palm Sunday.  For safety and privacy reasons, the boy was admitted to the psyche ward at Alexian Brothers Hospital.  Why Alexian Brothers?  Because they were the only ones who would take him.  

On the day after Easter, the demon, in his guttural and diabolic voice, taunted the priests about the one word the boy would never say.  Then they were stunned as the voice coming from the boy changed.  No longer was the voice vile and disgusting, it was warm and full of confidence.  The boy was in a trance when out of his mouth came these words: “I am Saint Michael, and I command you to leave the body in the name of Dominus.”  The boy then went into the worst convulsions since the start of the exorcism.  When the convulsions ceased, he said, “He is gone.”

The boy could not remember the words that came out of his mouth.  He only remembered seeing St. Michael with a fiery sword in his right hand and with his left hand pointing down to a pit from which both heat and the devil’s resistant laughter emanated.  The boy recalled how St. Michael smiled at him and spoke.  But he only remembered one word: Dominus.  That was the key word, Latin for Lord.

The boy went on to live a normal, healthy life.  He got married and named his first son Michael. The priest-exorcist seemed to go on living and working as usual, but his relatives said that until his death in 1983 the priest suffered physically and mentally from what he endured during the 1949 exorcism.

Some interesting theological points can be adduced from all this:  First off, as many exorcists will attest, the devil hates Latin.  He hates the sacred and ritual language of the Church. Secondly, though in modern times the Church has seemed to be tight-lipped about him, the devil is real.  Bishop Sheen, who died in 1979, wrote:

Very few people believe in the devil these days, which suits the devil very well.  He is always circulating the news of his own death . . . Satan has very little trouble with those who do not believe in him; they are already on his side.

Many otherwise rational people snicker when they read articles like this one. They laugh upon hearing that the devil hates Latin and words like Dominus.  However, it is quite rational to believe that Satan hates the word Dominus—for it is a word that denotes superiority.  People who refuse to bow down and serve their Maker hate that word.

Another theological point to understand is this one: The devil wants your soul. But here is the thing: Christ wants it too. That means there is a war for your soul taking place on a spiritual battlefield in an otherworldly realm that you cannot even begin to imagine. 

So, you are in a war but take courage.  Christ went out to the desert and underwent temptation to show you how to endure the temptations brought on by a person of superior intelligence.  Yes, the devil is a real person.  The Catechism states that “evil is not an abstraction, but refers to a person, Satan, the Evil One who opposes God” (2851).

The Evil One wanted stones turned into bread.  Christ of course refused, but later He turned bread into His Body and Blood.  He turns bread into His Body and Blood on the spiritual battlefield of the altar, as an otherworldly realm of saints and angels bow down and worship Him. 

My friends, Christ has given you all the tools you need for victory in the war for your soul. All you have to do is use them.  And He gives you your weapon: the cross.  All you have to do is carry it.  Then you, while on earth, will laugh with resistance at the devil.  And later, you will laugh for all eternity.  Catholics know about things like this.  


Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash