Low Magick by Lon DuQuette (little red riding hood read aloud TXT) 📗

illness. Inspired by healings chronicled in the New Testament,91 modern faith healers still effectively apply variations of this prehistoric art upon ailing members of their flocks whose spiritual worldview is similarly superstitious, simple, and absolute.

In this place, however, I am not going to regale you with tales of exorcisms or faith healing, or even exorcisms in which (and whereby) an alleged discarnate entity or spiritual force is driven from the body and mind of an afflicted individual. Instead, I’m going to share with you the story of the exorcism of a school whose faculty and students were visited by a disturbing string of tragedies.

It would be improper (indeed, unwise) for me here to reveal the actual name of the school92 or the city or state where it is located. I will tell you that it is an Archdiocesan high school for girls that has been administered for more than one hundred years by a particular group of Dominican Sisters; and that I was retained by the principal of the school (who I will refer to as Sister Martha) under circumstances that I am now about to relate.

Before I go any further, however, I must pause and remind the reader that the Roman Catholic Church has a formal Rite of Exorcism93 that (in rare occasions and under the direction and authority of a bishop) is performed to cast out demons and evil spirits à la the popular film The Exorcist.94 There are several reasons the rite is so infrequently employed today; one of them likely being the modern Church’s discomfort with something that appears so embarrassingly medieval, with another being the miles of ecclesiastical red tape involved in proving to the Church’s satisfaction the necessity for such a radical confrontation with the Prince of Darkness.

The criteria for such proof are very specific and involved. If, however, the evidentiary hurdles are cleared, it can take additional time to find a bishop willing to authorize the procedure, and (if the bishop is unable or unwilling to do the job himself) to find an exorcist capable and willing to perform it. It often takes years to get a first-rate Roman Catholic exorcism on the road. More often than not, by then the possessee has gotten better (or has died most colorfully) before the exorcist walks out of the theatrical fog and comes knocking at the door.

The reason a bishop is required to perform (or order) an exorcism springs from the Christian tradition that bishops are supposedly possessed of a kind of magical electricity that evil spirits hate, fear, and cannot resist. The Church, of course, doesn’t refer to this power as being “magical,” but when they describe the nature of this force, one can conclude it can be nothing else but magical. They maintain that this current is passed from individual to individual by the laying on of hands with full intent to transmit it. In other words, one bishop makes another bishop by laying his hands on another man95 and saying something to effect of , “John Doe, it is my intention to make you a bishop, and so I’m going to lay my hands on you and pass some of my magical electricity on to you. It’s okay … I can make more.”

Supposedly this magical juice comes down through an unbroken chain of guys who were touched by a guy who was touched by a guy who was touched a guy, etc., etc., back to the first century to a guy who was touched by a guy who was touched by Saint Peter.

Please don’t think I’m being unreasonably disrespectful when I observe that Peter, despite his other admirable spiritual qualities, was according to the Gospels probably the stupidest of the disciples of Jesus. How stupid was he? He was so stupid that during a rare outburst of exasperation, Jesus called him a “rock.” Contrary to the absurd interpretation concocted in the Dark Ages by an understandably confused and embarrassed church, calling someone a rock in first century Palestine was not a compliment. In Aramaic, “rock” is a most insulting epithet. It doesn’t mean, “I think you’re heavy, man,” it means, “I think you are an idiot—as dense and stupid as a stone!” Jesus goes on to say something to the effect that it would be on such immovable rock that the whole future church would be built.96 (Obviously, in this instance, Jesus is proven to be a great prophet!)

This chain of magical electricity from Saint Peter to the modern bishop is called apostolic (as in apostle) succession. Like electricity, the power (real or imagined) is in itself neutral. Once you have it, you have it. It cannot be taken away. If the Church dared to admit such power could be taken away then they would have to also concede that it wasn’t all that powerful in the first place. Ultimately (and technically) one’s membership in the Church (indeed, in any church) has nothing to do with it. Faith or morality or personal piety or virtues have nothing to do with it. If you were touched by a person that has it—and if they touched you with full intent to pass it on—then you have it, too. Just like cooties!

I realize that all this talk of bishops and magical electricity might seem a departure from the more colorful subject of this chapter, but I want you to know this so that you may understand one of the reasons I was retained to exorcise a Roman Catholic school. The fact is that even though I am not a Roman Catholic or an Orthodox Christian, I possess the bishop cooties too!

The circumstances that conspired to confer this curious distinction upon me are interesting, but would take us even farther afield from the subject of this chapter. Suffice to say, I am a bona fide bishop possessed of legitimate apostolic credentials from at least thirty lineages traceable to Saint Peter or one of the other apostles of Christ.97 I think it important for you to know,