Have you ever heard bizarre, nonhuman screams coming from the other room? Have you ever had that eerie feeling in the waking hours where your mind is alert but a heavy pressure on your body prevents you from moving? Have you ever felt a haunting presence closing in on you under the cloak of night? Have you ever done something “sinful” in the privacy of your bedroom only to wake up the next morning to a prayerful parent telling you that they sensed a fierce clash between angels and demons was taking place somewhere in the house the night before?
If you have, I’d love to hear more details about your experience.
But if you haven’t, you are not alone.
I haven’t either.
However, I know many who have had such experiences and the sincere conviction in which they retell their accounts leaves me to wonder.
Just last week, I went to hang out and catch up with a small group of my Christian friends. My friends are complex individuals with memories full of profound experiences who would describe themselves as Bible-believing, orthodox Christian, conservative evangelicals. They are committed creationists and faithful servants to their understanding of God and the Bible. They are compassionate and thoughtful individuals who are skeptical toward the views of nonbelievers, mystics, New-Age types, self-help authors, right-wing fundamentalists, cults, liberals, televangelists, mega-church leaders who advance “the prosperity gospel” and all who accept the theory of evolution. And there was a time, not long ago, when I would describe myself in similar terms.
Over the past seven years, many of us have grown close by working on service projects together. We have participated in each others’ development into dependable friends, mature husbands and responsible fathers.
But over the years, some of us began to depart from the majority opinion and pursue more unorthodox pathways of fulfillment. I don’t think any of us were surprised by this. Even in our early bible study conversations years ago, one could hear subtle hints indicating that some of us thought about God and life’s purpose just a little differently than the rest of the group. These differences would only become more pronounced over time.
During our most recent gathering together, we joked around for an hour or so about random topics such as local job cuts, our kids, the Obama administration and the latest entertainment news. But as the evening progressed, the discussion topics became far more serious as some of my friends began to share stories about their encounters with—of all things—demons.
It began with one person’s off-handed joke about demon possession until, soon, everyone in the room, one-by-one, began chiming in with stories of their own encounters with what they believed to be demonic forces.
It was as if a line was being drawn in the sand and I found myself on the other side of it. Like an outside observer, I watched as my friends reaffirmed their fellowship with similar experiences. As the stories were told, I heard phrases like, “You too!” and “Yeah, that’s the worst.”
The situation was awkward and I couldn’t help but to be cynical; silently questioning both their judgment and my own. How ironic was it that these individuals who sat before me sharing their personal encounters with demonic forces also happen to skeptical and distrusting of the scientific method? How ironic was it that these individuals who believe in demons also told me that they cannot accept evolution with any confidence because it leaves too much unexplained? Functioning with their assumptions about reality, I’d think some invisible and benevolent force controlled my sudden urge to fire off a witty and obnoxious remark pointing out the obvious, double standard here.
I couldn’t believe we were having this discussion. But I listened.
When someone tells me about a demonic encounter they have experienced my first reaction is to place that person firmly in the crazy category. But part of me neither wants to dismiss their stories nor the conviction in which they tell them because they may be indicative of a deeper, psychological reality to which I should pay close attention. Of course, this is an area beyond my expertise and again I am left only to wonder and ask questions.
I struggle with the fact that the Bible has plenty of stories similar to the ones my friends shared that night as its pages frequently describe a supernatural, otherworldly realm beyond sensory comprehension. The noble and appealing character of Jesus is easy to embrace when you focus primarily on his paradigm-challenging command to love one's enemies and his creative parables about the prodigal son, the persistent widow and the Good Samaritan.
But the New Testament doesn’t stop there. It seems to me that in order to embrace this Jesus—according to the New Testament—one must also profess belief in a strange, spirit world where angelic and demonic forces wage a constant and invisible war for the eternal souls of human beings. To embrace this Jesus—according to many biblical texts—it seems that one must also accept the ideas that demons can possess human beings; that certain individuals can wield miraculous powers and perform miracles that defy the laws of gravity and physics; and that a personal God exists and is capable to speaking to and through selected prophets.
When I read what the gospels say about Jesus of Nazareth, I find an inspiring figure that said and did many admirable things throughout his final years. But if I am required to believe and defend far-fetched ideas and speculations about a spiritual realm in order to follow the way of Jesus, then Christianity is a pill that I cannot swallow.
At this point in my life, I don’t believe in a Devil, Satan, demons, evil spirits, or any sort of personalized beings of incarnated evil. However, I do believe that humanity has a dark side; a selfish part of us that desires to satiate our unbridled appetites without considering the needs of others; a dangerous part of us inclined to hate out of ignorance and to kill out of fear; a susceptible part of us easily possessed by the spirits of indifference and apathy. And as mysterious as human evil is, I suspect this dark side of our existence has a biological and naturalistic explanation instead of a supernatural one. I suspect we can find more explanation for the origins of this dark side in the reptilian remnants of our brains than we can find in the tempting suggestions of a mythological serpent.
I find enough in the natural world to be afraid of than for me to occupy time and energy worrying about realms unknown, unseen and—dare I say—imaginary. I have more fear that a stray bullet will interrupt my earthly existence than that any demon would ever attack, influence or possess me.
Interestingly, some would posit one of those circular, conversation-ending arguments claiming that someone who doesn’t believe in demons is not able to believe because they are already under a demonic influence. I have no patience for that kind of exchange.
You can call it what you want, label me however and rely on whichever authority you find trustworthy in this dynamic and ever-changing thing called life. I’m going to try to make sense out of this the only way I know how: by continuing to ask the questions and pursuing explanations to the mysteries.
“On this pilgrimage, what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to re-arrange much of my thought-patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have always been a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth.”
