Exorcisms
Yes, this post is about exorcisms.
I remember sitting in a systematic theology class in seminary and a classmate asked our professor about the nature of exorcisms. Maybe it was around Halloween and a classic horror movie had prompted the question. My professor laughed it off, saying, “Yeah, you’re not going to be asked to do those.”
Boy, was he wrong.
I have been asked to do exorcisms. Not often, but enough times to warrant some preparation in my graduate theological education! My friends and I keep a running list of “Things they did not teach us in Seminary (but should have).” How to perform exorcisms makes the list!
Yes, sometimes the ask is made in jest. A nurse sees me walk into the unit and says“perfect timing, my colleague needs the devil cast out of him today!” But I have been surprised by the real requests I have gotten over time.
The most common petition tends to be from hospital staff who are “freaked out” by multiple deaths that have occured in the same room. Healthcare workers do not scare easily, but when they do, all manner of superstitions come out. It gets described to me as “bad juju” or “negative energy” or “angel of death setting up shop.”
Once a dynamic like this is proclaimed, it is gathers momentum. A nursing director took me aside once and begged me “to do something” as none of her nurses were willing to go into a room where previous patients had suffered a string of bad outcomes..
While my own theology tends not to include the demonic possession of our souls, I do admit there are many things beyond my awareness. And there are other Christian denominations that do include this doctrine. But mostly, I see a team of hardworking and grieving staff that don’t know how to keep going in the face of death and helplessness. I’m not exactly rebuking Satan to be cast out, but I am advocating for rituals that recognize the suffering that has happened and encourage others to name their fears and give that to their God to hold.
When staff see a room as cursed or possessed, I’ll suggest a ritual I call a “Room Blessing” or a “Prayer of Healing of the Space.” I invite whoever wants to be present to form a circle inside or outside of the room. I say a short prayer asking for blessings and protection and wisdom and compassion for all who go in and out of the room(s). It is nothing fancy and rather brief, as all things that pull hospital staff away from their duties need to be. It’s a small act, but I’ve watched it transform patient units and empower people to not be afraid and know that the divine is with them.
I suspect the most healing part of the ritual is naming aloud that something significant has happened. That a person (or multiple people) have died, that life has been lost, that tears have been shed and hearts have been rended. We acknowledge the agony and rededicate the room to be one of life, healing and hope.
Renee was a pharmacist who came to see me, looking for a prescription.
Our administrative assistant had taken her call and asked me if we were allowed to give out holy water to staff. I figured there was more behind that request and asked her to set up a time to meet with me. The next day, Renee ducked into my office looking both sheepish and exhausted.
It took a little while to draw out her story, as she spoke of her embarrassment. “I believe in science, but I also don’t know what else to do, I’m at my wit’s end.”
She described odd things happening in her house. Her daughter was waking up with scratches all over her, furniture was being moved when they were out, lights were being turned out while they were sitting in the room. I was skeptical at first, but her desperation made me want to believe her.
She cried on my couch. She said she wished she could move, but couldn’t afford to right now. She felt like she was failing her family and they were all so scared. After sitting with her for some time, she said “What can I do, what can make it all go away?”
The standard advice I give my students is that listening can be healing enough and they should not offer solutions. This did not feel like one of those times. I asked her what she’d tried, and the list was long: sprinkling salt, telling spirits to leave, reading the Bible aloud, blasting music, putting crosses on the walls, setting garlic out.
I told her about the room prayers I had done in the hospital. I offered to modify it for her whole house, but she insisted on a specific, customized prayer for each room. She was not going to take any more chances.
I heard from her the following week. Along with her sister and daughter, she had said the prayers aloud in each room and sprinkled the holy water. But she realized that we had missed some spots. We had forgotten about the garage, so we wrote a prayer for the place that housed the cars, tools, storage and lawnmower.
She reported later that things had improved considerably. Lights were still turning on and off occasionally. I refrained from suggesting checking faulty wiring.
While I don’t think I can advertise my services as a professional ghostbuster, it was another reminder of meeting pain and grief in whatever form we find it. Especially when we cannot fully comprehend it.
What spaces in your life, physical or otherwise, would you want to bless?
Where are the spaces where you want to invite healing and hope?
Here is a house blessing for you to use however it may serve you.
May this home be glowing with warmth
in the chill of winter
And a cooling shade
in the heat of the summer sun,
May it be a place
where one awakes with eagerness,
And a haven from stress,
when the work of the day is done.
May God, our Mother,
safely cradle this house in her strong arms,
And breathe the comfort of her love
through every room.
May God, our Father, fire the minds
of those who dwell here with hopeful dreams
And give them the strength
to make those dreams come true.
May God, our Companion,
fill this home with laughter
And weave a satisfying peace
in times of solitude.
May the cupboards be forever full,
And the table spread with welcome cheer.
May friends come often through the door,
But yet the need for privacy
be respected here.
May the wild beauty of God,
May the indwelling peace of God
May the surprising mystery of God
Inhabit this home.
Amen.
Love both the wisdom and practicality of honoring and releasing the pain and grief of a space, thank you!
What a beautiful prayer! Thank you for sharing that -- I might adapt that for a dear one who is moving shortly.
A logistical note: We recently moved into my parents' former house. Before we did, though, we replaced the carpeting. And before it was installed, we had family and a few friends over for a house blessing. Everyone was given a Sharpie and invited to write a blessing or prayer or quote on the subfloor. I love knowing that right now the chair I'm sitting on rests on a floor that is covered in blessings.