The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist

by Matt Baglio

  After opening prayers, Father Amorth spoke for forty-five minutes in a gravelly yet steady voice, his eyes fixed on a far corner of the room. The theme was familiar to those who followed his public appearances and read his numerous books: Exorcism goes to the heart of what it means to be a Christian and is something that every priest should take more seriously. This went double, of course, for the bishops whose job it was to appoint exorcists. In interviews, Father Amorth had even gone so far as to say that any bishop who doesn't appoint an exorcist is committing a mortal sin.

  Fifteen minutes into the lecture, the little voice in Father Gary's ear suddenly went silent, as his translator mysteriously went missing. Annoyed, but not necessarily surprised, Father Gary spent the next thirty minutes straining to piece together the remainder of Father Amorth's talk. His Italian was much better than it had been on the first day of the course, but he still struggled. At the break he went back to find out what was going on, wondering if this great opportunity was going to be squandered as well. As it turned out, the first translator had tracked down a young seminarian to replace him, and Father Gary was spared from having to scour the halls.

  After the break, Father Nanni spoke for half an hour about the crucial role of cooperation between the exorcist and his bishop, ensuring that only officially appointed exorcists performed the Ritual. In other words, just because someone had taken the course didn't mean that he could begin praying over people on his own. Since Father Gary was an official exorcist, this was a moot point, though it did remind him that he would need to work closely with his bishop once he got back.

  Father Bamonte then discussed the importance of an exorcist having a team approach, stressing the need to have a close working relationship with a therapist or a psychologist. As he listened, Father Gary was struck again by the fact that Father Carmine didn't have such colleagues. Most victims brought a companion; but still, on certain occasions, Father Carmine would have been all alone but for Father Gary—something Father Gary vowed he'd never do, if only just for “legal” considerations.

  For Father Gary, Father Alberto, who ran the centro ascolto, proved to be the most engaging speaker. The listening center was basically a spiritual center, staffed by two priests, two nuns, a therapist, and an attached prayer group. It was a place for people with spiritual or psychological problems that they attributed to spiritual issues. The concept was similar to that in a book Father Gary had bought: Stumbling Blocks or Stepping Stones: Spiritual Answers to Psychological Questions by Benedict J. Groeschel. Father Gary was inspired by Father Alberto's emphasis on the continual need for people to practice the sacraments—especially confession—and to bring prayer back into their lives, which he said people were filling with a lot of other activities. And while not necessarily terrible, these “distractions,” as Father Alberto put it, were still exposing people to the wrong kinds of influences. First and foremost he wanted to create venues where people could pray. He'd set up a permanent chapel inside the Basilica of Saint Anastasia for Eucharistic adoration (a Catholic tradition of meditating in front of the exposed Blessed Sacrament). Of course Eucharistic adoration wasn't novel, but Father Gary liked the idea of people needing more “quiet time” with God. He also appreciated Father Alberto's intention of getting back to the traditions of the Church. These approaches would also benefit him as an exorcist. While it might be hard to talk to people about demons, he could certainly tell them about the benefits of praying, and he would be practicing “preventive medicine,” as Father Kevin Joyce recommended.

  After Father Alberto finished, Father Gary was delighted that there was an entire hour just for questions and answers. The session was so absorbing he could have sat there listening for much longer.

  Father Amorth's response to one question made Father Gary chuckle: “Everybody who is considering doing this needs to be apprenticed.” After all that trouble he went through to be able to apprentice! Knowing there are 185 dioceses in the United States alone—which meant that many exorcists would have to be trained and apprenticed—it was impossible for him to conceive that “six guys who are over here breaking their backs” could all of a sudden tutor 185 priests. But if they didn't, who would?

  Father Gary left that final day of the course feeling reinvigorated about his calling as an exorcist. Not only had the course given him the grounding he needed, but it had reinforced his desire to help people. He could see now that rather than just being on the fringe, there was also a strong pastoral element to exorcism.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WINDOWS TO THE SOUL

  The commander triumphs in victory; yet he could not have conquered if he had not fought; and the greater the peril of the battle, the more the joy of the triumph.

  —Saint Augustine, Confessions

  As the evening dragged on, Father Gary noticed a shift in Father Carmine's demeanor. By 6:45, after the Capuchin had exorcised about nine people, his once upright posture stooped heavily, braced against the wall by his left hand. Despite the freezing rain outside, his brown robe clung to him, heavily matted with sweat. Father Gary had no idea how his mentor maintained his stamina day in and day out.

  By the end of February, Father Gary had seen more than forty exorcisms, including some in which the reaction was so explosive that both he and Father Vince had helped subdue the person. One case involved a small, bent-looking nun in her full habit, probably in her fifties but seeming much older, who had changed so completely during the Ritual that he no longer recognized her. He also saw Sister Janica a third and fourth time, each exorcism seemingly more violent than the previous one.

  It came as no surprise when he learned that the repetitive nature of exorcism can be challenging for an exorcist. “For me,” says Father Carmine, “the hardest thing is that the liberation never happens right away. Sometimes you need years and years, and this methodical perseverance is not only very tiring, but the demon takes advantage of it in order to try to insinuate the poison of doubt, as if to say, ‘You are wasting your life and you are deceiving people.’“

  Exorcists also have to deal with the real threat of suicide. Father Daniel had told Father Gary of a time during an exorcism when he had to tackle a woman who tried to jump out the third-story window.

  In Italy, where every exorcist has a cell phone, it is common for an exorcist to receive several messages a day saying things like “Today I am finally going to end it all!” or “I can't go on without your help!” As Father Amorth relates in his book, An Exorcist Tells His Story, a woman seeing Father Candido threw herself out the window between exorcism sessions. Faced with a daily environment that is this rife with suffering and desperation, many exorcists feel overburdened.

  Father Gary began to notice that the exorcisms were starting to affect him as well. Even though he hated to admit it, he began to feel that he was in a rut. He realized Father Carmine saw many of the same people over and over again and neither their condition, nor the way he prayed over them, changed much. With the exception of the more dramatic cases, there was nothing new for Father Gary to see. Besides, he was just a passive observer; perhaps his attitude would change once he started his own ministry and felt the import of being in charge.

  The big surprise was that while he found himself distracted sometimes during a ritual, he noticed that the exorcisms were affecting him outside of San Lorenzo as well—and not in a good way.

  FATHER GARY WAS AWARE that exorcists were prime targets for attacks by the Devil. Both the exorcism course and the numerous books he'd read had all pointed this out, some in lurid detail. “He need only enter into the stream of our own inclinations, when we treat lightly things that lead us astray; he has only to press against that which already totters, to hold back that which seeks to rise. His influence spreads like a poisonous gas, which we inhale without knowing it,” wrote the Dominican theologian Antonin-Gilbert Sertillanges.

  Christian tradition has long held that the more a person's life reaches upward toward God, the fiercer the Devil attac
ks. Numerous saints have suffered as a result of their devotions, including Saint Paul, Teresa of Avila, Padre Pio, and Gemma Galgani.

  In his book The Dark Night of the Soul, Saint John of the Cross describes how God maintains a certain “equality” among all things, so that we may attain grace comparable to our station. Just as a heavyweight prizefighter wouldn't break a sweat beating up on an amateur, so too would a saint's devotion ring hollow unless it were properly tested. The graces that we receive through prayer and the gifts given us by the good angels do not escape the notice of Satan, says John of the Cross, “partly so that he may do that which he can against them according to the measure of justice and that thus he may not be able to allege with truth that no opportunity is given him for conquering the soul, as he said concerning Job.”

  It is for this reason that Saint Peter warns early Christians, “Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering” (1 Peter 5:8-9).

  Father Gary had decided to quit drinking over a decade before because of the effect it had on him. He wasn't a big drinker at the time, but he noticed that if he even drank a glass or two of wine with dinner, he would feel the edges of his self-control starting to slip. Upon arriving in Italy, however, a place synonymous with wine and three-hour meals, he'd decided to relax that stricture a little. The Casa often served wine with lunch (as was the custom), and now and again he allowed himself to enjoy a glass. And while things had been fine for the first half of his stay in Rome, once he'd started participating in exorcisms it was as if somebody, or something, had hooked his libido up to a satellite dish and images were streaming in.

  Sexual temptation is one of the main dangers an exorcist faces. “We have to be very careful sometimes of the people we exorcize because they can really arouse some desires in the exorcist,” says Father Dermine. Some of the women who sought help from Father Carmine were quite attractive, and during the exorcisms a few would actually try to tear their clothes off, or rub themselves. The surprising thing was that Father Gary's temptations came not during the exorcisms but afterward, while he was riding on the bus or walking the streets of Rome. Unable to overcome them on his own, he went down to the chapel in the Casa, or over to the little Church of Santa Rita, which was right around the corner, and prayed silently for God to give him strength. When the thoughts didn't go away, even after intense prayer, he began to get upset with himself. Had he opened a door that had allowed a demon to attack him?

  WHILE EXORCISTS ADMIT that their ministry can sometimes be a heavy burden, it would be a mistake, they say, to overstate the power of the Devil. As Father Amorth writes, “A priest who is afraid of the Devil is like a shepherd who is afraid of a wolf. It is a groundless fear.” “The Devil,” says Amorth, is already “doing us as much harm as he possibly can.”

  And so rather than fear him, exorcists say, it is better to emulate saints such as Teresa of Avila, who proclaimed, “If this Lord is powerful, as I see that He is and I know that He is, and if the devils are His slaves (and there is no doubt about this because it's a matter of faith), what evil can they do to me since I am a servant of this Lord and King? Why shouldn't I have the fortitude to engage in combat with all of hell?”

  While exorcists don't have a patron saint, many feel a strong devotion to Mary. In the traditions of the Catholic Church, Mary holds a particular place of honor: “Throughout her life and until her son died on the cross, Mary's faith never wavered. She never ceased to believe in the fulfillment of God's word. And so the Church venerates in Mary the purest realization of faith.” And because of this acceptance of God, Mary represents a parallel arc that is the exact opposite of the Devil's. “God made [Satan] magnificent in his nature and he corrupted himself; God made Mary humble in her nature (a human being and, as such, inferior to the angels) and she sanctified herself,” writes Father José Antonio Fortea. The Bible cites this hostility between Satan and Mary. In talking to the serpent who tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, God says, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers, he will strike your head, and you will strike his heel,” (Genesis 3:15). Thus many statues of Mary depict her crushing a serpent beneath her feet.

  Many exorcists invoke Mary during the Ritual. “The demon is so terrified of her that he will never pronounce her name. He'll say ‘that woman’ or ‘she destroys me,’” says Father Amorth.

  “The Marian prayer, especially the rosary, is a very powerful weapon in the fight against Satan,” explains Father Bamonte. “That is why [Mary] insists so much that we pray the rosary; the rosary is a prayer that really whips the demon into a frenzy.” On numerous occasions, Father Bamonte has beseeched Mary for help only to have the person he is praying over say, “She is here!” or “You can't imagine what I would do to you if she weren't stopping me!”

  AFTER WEEKS OF DEALING with the temptations, Father Gary concluded they had to be demonic in nature; there was just no other way to explain their intensity. The realization helped. The course had warned him about such a possibility, so rather than let it intimidate him, he took it in the greater context of the spiritual path that all Christians undertake. As Saint Paul said, “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). As such, even though he was a target, he knew God would eventually provide him with the means to overcome it.

  It also helped to have the support of family and colleagues. He talked a lot of his problems out, calling his parents at least once a week. He also opened up to a circle of priests at the Casa whom he had either known before coming to Rome or who had an interest in exorcism. He especially liked talking to the seminarians at the NAC because he felt they might one day find themselves in a similar situation.

  A few of the priests at the Casa were curious enough to want to participate in exorcisms. Some had even had past experiences of their own—praying spontaneous prayers of deliverance over people—and were eager to confirm that what they had seen was real.

  Father Gary even made a believer out of Sister Rebecca when he stopped to chat with her at the library telling her about his experiences out at San Lorenzo.

  Other distractions helped take his mind off the events at San Lorenzo and his increasing internal struggles. He had always been a huge fan of classical music, finding it uplifting and inspiring. In fact, his parents had played some of his favorite composers, such as Strauss and Bach, while he was incoherent in the hospital after his accident. So on weekends he went to nearby churches such as San Ignazio, San Marcello, and the Dodici Apostoli as often as he could to listen to the free concerts. Once he saw a performance of Rachmaninov at the performing arts center, and on different occasion, he dragged another priest from the Casa out to Saint Paul's Basilica in the pouring rain to listen to a Vatican-sponsored concert. And while he appreciated such outings, he found it a pleasure just to walk the narrow cobblestone streets. He got a kick out of seeing the restaurants busy even after midnight.

  A few parties at the Casa also helped, including the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which he thought brought many of the priests out of their shells. He took it upon himself to organize the Saint Patrick's Day celebration, asking one of the Irish priests to make Irish coffee and decking out the refectory in green. He even enlisted the help of a real Irish fiddler to come and play for a couple of hours, all of which made the party a huge hit.

  For Father Gary, being a priest was all about human interaction. He found it ironic when a parishioner who was going through marital problems told him he was lucky that he didn't have to worry about such stuff. (The irony is that, as a pastor, he had around a thousand families to look after.) “People assume that as a priest I don't have any problems, but I do. We all do,” says Father G
ary. “Yes, it's true that I don't have some of the problems other people have, such as dealing with the stress of raising a family; but it's also true that I come home to an empty house every night.” He loved to get out and be among people and continually looked for ways to include them. For him, community was paramount, belonging to a family that comes together to celebrate Christ's love.

  SINCE THAT FIRST DAY in January when Father Carmine accepted him as an apprentice, Father Gary had felt a “monster disconnect” with the victims when the Ritual began, despite the cramped space and the bizarre intimacies. All that changed during an exorcism one Saturday in late February.

  As usual, Father Carmine had given him no idea of what to expect. When he'd stepped into the office at ten that morning, he was surprised to see Father Daniel, of all people, waiting. “So how'd you get involved in all of this?” Father Gary asked and got a brief sketch of the case before them: The woman was from southern Italy, and because her diocese had no exorcist, she traveled to Rome for exorcisms. Father Daniel happened to be a friend of the priest who often accompanied her.

  Father Gary would have liked to hear more, but in walked three people—a Franciscan in his mid-forties with close-cropped hair and a neatly trimmed beard, followed by a plain-looking couple in their early sixties. Wearing a rumpled suit, the man kept his eyes lowered as he entered, while the woman, Giovanna, her hair short and slightly disheveled, had a hard, calcified look about her, as if the weight of some unseen burden was slowly grinding her to dust. She immediately caught Father Gary's attention because she looked “very disturbed” and eyed him warily.