Thank you, Addison, for this post in the series you are doing on the demonic. Like you, I prefer to stay away from anything that sensationalizes the accuser. I remember watching a video of Metropolitan Kallistos where he recalls writing about the devil and his spiritual father told him not to even capitalize the name accuser so as not to give him even the credit of a proper noun. I’m always a little unnerved by Christians I know—both orthodox and catholic—who seem to enjoy the vicarious roller coaster thrill of watching movies about demonic possession, exorcism, etc. There’s something spiritually unhealthy about that. That’s quite a bit different than Evagrius (I believe) who instructed people to observe how the demonic works in their own temptations in order to develop defenses against temptation. It’s striking to me the sheer number of exorcisms I find in the Gospel accounts and how matter of fact Christ is when he casts the demon out. Or when St Paul casts out the “spirit of python” in Philippi—how he does it out of impatience as though he’s simply had enough of this bother. In particular I liked what you said about merely focusing on my own daily run-ins with temptation. That’s quite enough for me. Finally your referencing The Great Divorce struck me. I have been reading Lewis since I was young and as I was just telling someone yesterday, no writer has had such a profound effect on my life. The Great Divorce I’ve read over and over and recently was listening to the audible while out fishing in a mountain lake. How we foolishly cling to our little possessions which turn out to be the obstacles that prevent us from experiencing Divine joy. The afterlife, for Bulgakov, is where we see fully those foolish decisions we made in life, choosing death over life, selfishness over love. I will certainly feel the gut-wrenching realization and experience much weeping and gnashing of teeth in that realization.
This is wonderfully bracing. I had sensed this only in principle, but never thought of it this way. The calm of the Valaam monks says more than all the theatrical demonology now in circulation. What matters is not expertise in darkness but freedom from its fascination. Lewis’s image is exactly right: hell feels enormous from within, yet is finally smaller than a crack in reality. The spiritual task is not to study evil, but to stop feeding it. Hardest of all is realizing that evil can be fed even by the good, at least by what we flatter ourselves for calling good. If only the devil wore horns.
They probably deserve it. In earnest though this has been a talking point in the popular exorcism discourse and it would be interesting to hear your take, maybe related to the Satanic Panic around board games and music.
Thank you, Addison, for this post in the series you are doing on the demonic. Like you, I prefer to stay away from anything that sensationalizes the accuser. I remember watching a video of Metropolitan Kallistos where he recalls writing about the devil and his spiritual father told him not to even capitalize the name accuser so as not to give him even the credit of a proper noun. I’m always a little unnerved by Christians I know—both orthodox and catholic—who seem to enjoy the vicarious roller coaster thrill of watching movies about demonic possession, exorcism, etc. There’s something spiritually unhealthy about that. That’s quite a bit different than Evagrius (I believe) who instructed people to observe how the demonic works in their own temptations in order to develop defenses against temptation. It’s striking to me the sheer number of exorcisms I find in the Gospel accounts and how matter of fact Christ is when he casts the demon out. Or when St Paul casts out the “spirit of python” in Philippi—how he does it out of impatience as though he’s simply had enough of this bother. In particular I liked what you said about merely focusing on my own daily run-ins with temptation. That’s quite enough for me. Finally your referencing The Great Divorce struck me. I have been reading Lewis since I was young and as I was just telling someone yesterday, no writer has had such a profound effect on my life. The Great Divorce I’ve read over and over and recently was listening to the audible while out fishing in a mountain lake. How we foolishly cling to our little possessions which turn out to be the obstacles that prevent us from experiencing Divine joy. The afterlife, for Bulgakov, is where we see fully those foolish decisions we made in life, choosing death over life, selfishness over love. I will certainly feel the gut-wrenching realization and experience much weeping and gnashing of teeth in that realization.
Thank you for such an incisive comment.
This is wonderfully bracing. I had sensed this only in principle, but never thought of it this way. The calm of the Valaam monks says more than all the theatrical demonology now in circulation. What matters is not expertise in darkness but freedom from its fascination. Lewis’s image is exactly right: hell feels enormous from within, yet is finally smaller than a crack in reality. The spiritual task is not to study evil, but to stop feeding it. Hardest of all is realizing that evil can be fed even by the good, at least by what we flatter ourselves for calling good. If only the devil wore horns.
The burning question is can we own, or possess, Harry Potter books.
Burn them all. Extremely dangerous. After that, move on to A. A. Milne and other diabolical literature.
They probably deserve it. In earnest though this has been a talking point in the popular exorcism discourse and it would be interesting to hear your take, maybe related to the Satanic Panic around board games and music.
Father Lemelson has large price tag for his Substack
Because it's free.