The Devil Made Me Do It

Or the banality of evil

I did something this evening that I’ve never done before: I deleted a post. It’s not that I’m afraid, or that it wasn’t true, I am not afraid, and what I said was true. It’s that someone whose opinion I respect took issue with my bombastic language. I was admittedly furious when I wrote it, and I stand by that anger, but far be it from me to discredit a victim who stepped forward at great personal cost because I got mad.

The more time I spend digging into the world of spiritual warfare, the more I am convinced that the burgeoning industry of celebrity exorcists is a beast well-fed. These men speak very boldly, say somewhat outrageous but potentially partially true things, and disseminate their truthiness via YouTube and other popular social media vehicles.

The structure is quite simple, really. There are people who will believe pretty much anything so long as it is spoken in an authoritative manner and accompanied by some scary stories.

Humans love scary stories. We watch movies that make our hearts beat fast for fun. We pay good money to strap ourselves into metal boxes that project us through the air atop screechy tracks. The more vomitous, the better. And the same principle applies to spirituality.

For Catholics, the existence of physical beings of both heavenly and hellish nature is fact. These are not theoretical demons, not merely the personification of the deadly sins, but an actual, physical devil who prowls about the world seeking the ruin of souls. For most, there is comfort in knowing that Jesus is triumphant, and the gates of hell shall not prevail. The Veggie Tales remind us that “God is bigger than the boogeyman.”

But for a growing number of the faithful, an indulgent fascination with evil is swelling.

Once merely the plot of an 80s movie that I’ve never had the guts to watch, The Exorcist is now the title of many a priest who shares their lurid tales online, warning their viewers that they too will become possessed if they stray from God’s plan. Father Chad Ripperger is probably the most famous. He has videos upon videos of his expertise, telling of children possessed because they read Harry Potter and women possessed by the children they have miscarried. I’m not clear on the particulars, but his fanbase lives for his scary stories like the newest Stephen King volume.

Ripperger’s and other exorcists and exorcism experts’ podcasts follow a similar format: share lurid details regarding devil worshippers or ritualistic practices, and follow up with the ways in which common people unwittingly contribute to these horrible occurrences. Sometimes this includes the political party God demands you support, other episodes will focus on a guest who has a sordid past that involved wicca or devil worship.

While the Catholic Church does teach of the existence of evil, these additional flourishes are Ripperger’s bonus beliefs. He has other compatriots, and an assistant named Kyle Clement, who is not a cleric, but often lectures on “spiritual combat and exorcisms.” Clement was also found responsible for two separate cases of fraud, but Ripperger doesn’t seem to warn against demonic influence on financial matters.

Clement also advised another priest, Father David Morrier, on the nitty -gritty of his own exorcism ministry, going so far as to instruct Morrier to falsely imprison a young woman to save her from being ritually sacrificed on Halloween. He also “discerned” via telephone that the young woman was possessed by the spirit of Lilith, or “seduction.”

Morrier didn’t do so alone, of course, he had the help of several of his own non-priest assistants. Because in order for anyone to carry on abusing another person for an extended period of time, you need a lot of help.

That help may come in the form of accomplices, aware of the evil you’re committing, but oftentimes it comes in the form of true believers, who are duped into thinking they are doing God’s work. When you believe yourself to be fighting principalities and rulers of this present darkness, it’s not a long journey to false imprisonment.

It is my sincere belief that this is precisely how Dave VanVickle found himself in a room with a terrified young woman undergoing an exorcism. Did he know that the exorcism wasn’t even Church-approved? Probably not. VanVickle gives routine testimony to having been first present at an exorcism as a young teen. By sixteen years of age, he was participating in exorcisms himself somehow with the permission of his parents as well as the local church. I imagine VanVickle grew up believing that he had a calling to fight the devil physically. So when he walked into a room and a woman he was told was possessed was sitting in a chair, terrified, having a panic attack because she was not there of her own volition nor was she actually possessed, I am certain VanVickle thought he acting honorably and justly by knocking the chair out from under her and pinning her to the ground as she struggled like a wounded animal under his football player weight.

With equal measure of sincerity, I believe that what Dave VanVickle did was horribly wrong and dangerous.

VanVickle wasn’t the only person of course that was in that room that day, or the subsequent days when Father David Morrier continued to inflict torture on his victim both leading up to and during the period of time where he was also sexually assaulting her in separate, one-on-one sessions. They also held the sincere and fervent belief that she was possessed by the devil, and being the Father of Lies, was not to be believed. Some may still. Some applied this same logic to Morrier’s crimes: his work was so important, the devil attacked him by making him commit these horrible acts.

While many people may not believe in an actual, physical devil or the existence of demons, I believe they exist. I don’t think they are as flashy as those I’ve mentioned purport them to be.

On the contrary, men who are willing to dull their common sense and primacy of conscience so successfully in order to “fight evil” do the lion’s share of the devil’s work on his behalf.