The
phone rang on the local line.
"Yes," I answered.
"Oh Father, there is a woman down here who wants to speak to a priest. I know it is Father Burley's duty day but he has gone out for a swim."
"I'll be right down."
"Thanks Father."
I looked into the parlor before I walked inside. Oh no. It was going to be another one of those days. This woman had her head covered in a scarf, pinned up as in a 1960's beehive hairdo. Her skirt went to her ankles and she wore a heavy blandish looking long coat. Despite the heat inside, she kept the coat tightly wrapped around her.
"Hello, I'm Father Jenkins, how can I help you?"
I closed the door behind me.
"Hello Father, I am so happy you were willing to let me speak to you. It is as I told the woman in the office, a most dire emergency."
"I hope I can help."
"I hope so too. Father, do you believe in the supernatural?"
Oh God, I thought, not more. "What do you mean?"
"Do you believe that there are people who have given themselves over to the evil one-- witches and warlocks?"
"I suppose there are people crazy enough to lower themselves to such roles."
"Father, you don't know how glad I am to hear you are open to the fact that there are such people, because there are. What I am going to tell you is very strange; but please, hear me out before you make any decision. I have had a hard time getting anyone to listen to me."
"Well, I can give you a few minutes."
"Thank you again, Father. Recently I received a call from my son's school telling me that he was sick and to come for him. He had evidently passed out in school and they wanted me to take him to a doctor. When I arrived, he seemed all recovered. They insisted that he see a doctor so I said I would take him to our family physician. However, even though they had called me, they would not let me take my own son. They had called an ambulance and the attendants insisted that they take my son to the hospital. I said that would not be necessary and that I would drive him to his doctor. Again, they refused me this right and they called the police on me. When the police came they handcuffed me and took me to the police station. I said to them, 'Why won't you let me have my son? Who are you? What do you want with him?' They talked quietly to one another and laughed at me. 'Darn it,' I said, 'I'm the child's mother, you can't do this!' The ambulance attendant and the policeman looked at me and in perfect unison said, 'F--- you, he's ours now. So be quiet.' The policeman hit me in the mouth. He said that he didn't, but he did. They took my son away. My husband came to get me out the station. We are separated. He was mean to me. He said the boy would be staying with him for a while and that I was to mind my own business. I said to him the same thing I said to the policeman. 'Who are you?' I knew my husband, even though we were separated, could never be harsh to me. I could not help but feel that this could not be my husband. I know it sounds crazy. But, he was always such a kind and gentle man. He cursed me and left. I cried myself silly. Walking out of the station, I noticed people outside staring at me. They remained motionless and simply stared as I walked down the street. After that day, I noticed other strange people, too. They are all over this city. They look like the rest of us, but they are not. Have you noticed it?"
"I can't say I have."
"You have to look. They stand on the street, and that's all. They don't move, not even a finger, for the longest periods of time. All they do is stare. That's not natural, is it Father?"
"No, I guess not." I had to humor this woman.
"I have had a long time interest in the occult and I think I know what the problem is. I think the witches are plotting some sort of takeover. They are doing something to the people, changing them. They've gotten to my husband, and now my son. I know they've got my son because I called him on the phone and he answered-- when he heard my voice, he hung up. But, before he did so he whispered, 'Why did you let them take me?' Oh, I forgot to tell you, when the police had me, the one who arrested me took his hands and made gestures over me, like this."
She took her hands and wiggling her fingers, waved them in the air in my direction.
She continued, "I am sure they were putting a spell over me. I blessed myself to break it. Over and over again, I blessed myself. Father, I am afraid but I believe we have to fight them. Remember the Lord's words, 'I come not to bring peace but a sword.' We have to take a sword to them. Their takeover must be stopped!"
"Well," I interjected, "I think you're taking that phrase out of context." Was she intending to do people physical harm?
"How else can they be stopped? No one will listen."
"I think the best way to fight evil is through good. Do you go to church?"
"Once in a while."
"Well, if you are not going regularly to church, then evil has already won."
"I'm not Catholic."
"What are you?" I asked.
"Greek Orthodox."
"Certainly they have a valid Eucharist. That is the greatest weapon against evil."
"That's fine Father, but not enough."
"It is plenty. Yes it is. Why did you not go to one of your own priests first?"
"He is one of them. He refused to listen to me. I am afraid of him. At the divine liturgy, he mixed some kind of slime into the mixture of the precious body and blood. I am sure that there is some kind of sacrilege going on. There are many priests and bishops already invaded by Satan. Our Lady of Fatima prophesied as much."
"I don't know about that. I still contend that you go to the Eucharist often, instead of planning violence upon others. Seek rather to love and forgive them."
"But Father!"
"Look, that was even the response of Christ on the Cross. He died forgiving his murderers. We, as his disciples, can do no less. If you distrust these people you have mentioned, then pray that God will liberate both them and you from evil."
"Father, you ask too much."
"If you refuse to go to Mass, and if there are any truths to your claims, then they are already victorious."
There was an knock at the door.
"Yes," I invited.
"Father, it is time for your dinner," informed the secretary.
"Thank you, Carol."
"I will have to end our discussion, now. Remember what I said."
"Father, if you'd only come with me, I could show you the people on the street."
"Pray for them," I responded.
"Father, the policeman took my crucifix away from me and bent it. He said it was a weapon. Unless he was working for Satan, why then would he call the Cross a weapon?"
"Pray for him, too."
"Alright Father, thank you for listening. God bless you. I'll find some way to fight them."
"You have a way. Go to church!"
She left. I closed the external door. She was still talking. God, where did you get them and why did you always have to send them to me? That was my sentiment when she left, but later I had to admit to myself that I had seen something of the recent strangeness about the people on the street. But I passed it off. I had other things to think about and to do.
People want to make the world a better place. But, the world remains very much a sinful place of violence, lust, and greed. How can those who have lost their way possibly lead others on the path to true and lasting happiness, a goal which can only be satisfied in God? They cannot. The true course, still largely untried, is for people of Christian faith to live out their fidelity to God and to the divine mysteries, his sacraments. Our Lord brings the kingdom through his very own person; he is the one who conquers sin and overcomes death.