The woman on the phone was frantic. "Pastor, you've got to help me. Strange things are happening in my house and in my life, and I can't get them to stop!" Bev (her name has been changed) had recently begun attending our church. I asked her what exactly was happening.
"I hear voices, even when no one is there."
"Has anyone else heard them?" I asked.
"Not till today. This morning, my two teenage daughters were with me getting ready for school, and we all heard these strange sounds. We were all terrified. Whenever I've told my ex-husband about these voices, he says I'm making it up. But today my girls heard it, too. Pastor Ray, I'm really scared. I've been listening to you at church on Sundays, and for some reason I thought you might know what to do."
I certainly did not know what to do. But I invited Bev to come to my office so we could talk and pray with her. When she arrived a few minutes later, I asked Susan, our children's pastor, to join us.
Over the next two hours, Susan and I got a glimpse of what she was talking about. Bev, a well-dressed professional, began telling us her story and about her mother who was a witch. "I was introduced to the occult in childhood, and my sister is still practicing witchcraft on the West Coast, but I haven't done any of that since getting married and moving to the Midwest."
She continued her story about her troubled marriage, the eventual divorce, beginning to come to church wanting to be a better Christian, and now the unwelcome presence tormenting her. I noticed that Bev's voice changed from being frightened to one that was flat and unemotional. It didn't seem like hers anymore. She was swaying back and forth.
I asked a few clarifying questions about her relationship with Jesus, and Bev stopped referring to herself as "I" and started referring to herself as "she."
"Are you referring to yourself?" I asked. And the voice that came out of Bev's mouth didn't sound like hers at all. "You fear us," it said. "You fear us."
Now I'm not going to lie; I was more than a little freaked out. But I said, "No, I'm not afraid of you or anybody else." I hoped whatever I was speaking to couldn't see I was starting to sweat.
Bev had started telling her story humbly and with brokenness. But that personality disappeared and other personalities took over that were accusing and vulgar. "F— you!" the voice said with a sneer. "Up yours. She's ours." Those words and that tone were definitely not what we'd heard even moments before.
I'd never been in this situation before. My seminary theology classes that mentioned doctrines of the devil, demons, and the spirit world seemed long ago and far away.
"Bev has accepted Jesus," I said. "You have no right to be here."
"Yes, we do," the voice replied. "She invited us here, and we're not leaving."
"She's a Christian now."
"Oh, we know all about her."
"Oh, you must be omniscient," I said, using the word as a test, knowing Bev had no theological background. But the voice's answer was immediate and spot-on theologically.
"You fool! We're not omniscient."
I felt so ill-equipped. The enemy had many weapons; confusion, intimidation, and embarrassment were some of them used against me. I kept thinking to myself, Am I really buying this crazy nonsense? Is this is real or not? But I knew I couldn't back down.
I told the voices, "In the name of Jesus, you have to leave."
They kept resisting: "Who are you to tell us to leave? You're not in charge here."
Despite my misgivings, I recognized their attempt to take over the meeting, and I said, "You shut up. This is a place where Jesus Christ is Lord, and I serve the Lord Jesus Christ, and I'm in control of this meeting. You're not!"
Susan and I read Scripture and prayed for Bev and against these spirits for at least an hour, and eventually the interruptions from the voices ended. Bev returned. She was crying, saying she loved Jesus and didn't want this torment to continue. She was aware of the conversation during the previous hour, but felt like she could not control what was being said.
We assured her of our love and our ongoing prayers for her, and we said goodbye.
Within two hours, however, she called back because things at her house had gotten even worse. The voices had returned, and this time she was seeing shadowy figures. "They're in my house! Would you please come and pray at the house?"
Home Invasion
I told her I would and that I would bring Susan and one of our elders with me. When the three of us arrived, Bev greeted us at the door and invited us in. The house was in an affluent neighborhood and beautifully decorated. No obvious signs of the spiritual upheaval that had prompted the call.
We sat down in the living room, began to talk, and almost immediately the changes happened again. Bev's eyes dilated and rarely blinked. Her voice became hollow and began asking direct questions:
"Who are you?" the voice asked the elder who'd come with us.
"I am a sinner saved by grace," he said. "I'm a child of God, and Jesus is my Lord."
Bev's eyes held him in a stare for an uncomfortable moment, then said, "Yes, you are."
Then she turned to me: "Have you repented?"
"Yes, I have," I said, thinking to myself, I hope I've done so recently enough! Create in me a clean heart, O God.
"It doesn't matter," the voice said. "She is mine. She invited us in, and we're not leaving."
The three of us quoted Scriptures about Christ's victory over sin and death, and "at the name of Jesus every knee will bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father."
Not knowing what else to do, I asked, "Bev, do you want us to pray through your house?" And Bev's voice was able to say, "Yes, please do that."
I had brought a small vial of oil that we use to anoint the sick, and I went through the house, touching each door and window with a drop of oil and asking the Spirit of Christ to enter this house and to banish any spirits that are adversaries of Christ.
No sooner did I touch the first window than the voice from Bev started yelling, "You can't do this! Get out. This is our house! We're not leaving!" But we went through each room, praying and touching each window and door, inviting Christ in, and in the name of Christ banishing any evil spirits.
Bev followed us. The voice continued to say, "You can't do this." But we continued anyway, praying for God's protection and for evil to be gone.
When we got to the base of the stairway, Bev was there. I said, "Bev, do you want me to go upstairs as well?"
"Yes."
But as I started up the stairs, she froze in place as if her feet were superglued to the floor. She could not move.
"You can't do this," she yelled, but she did not move from that spot. I went around her and finished praying through every room.
When we went back downstairs, she was herself, and we were able to talk normally and eventually say our goodbyes. But as I was getting in the car, Bev came running outside to tell me she'd just gone upstairs and the voices said, "We'll be back."
I wish I could say this story had a happy ending. Bev's family was upset she was involved with a church and seeking deliverance from the voices. They convinced her to sell the home and move out of state shortly thereafter. And I lost contact with her.
But this episode was the first of several similar experiences, none of which I sought out. But none of which could I, in good conscience, turn away from. Following Jesus seems to mean, for me anyway, confronting these kinds of spirits.
This episode also showed me how little I knew about this kind of ministry. It set me on a two-year-long study of Scripture and searching for wisdom regarding the ministry of deliverance. My conclusions, so far, are these.
Unwanted But Necessary Calling
When these experiences happened, I shared them with our elders but with very few others. I feared being called a heretic if I suggested a person who claims to know Jesus can be demonized, harassed, infested. (The word possessed is inappropriate because it implies ownership.) I tend to think of demons as leeches—they're clinging and some sort of interaction is going on.
Lots of Christians say it's not possible. A few years ago, I would have been one of them. But after having a number of these cases brought to me, I've sought out and been mentored by those who have been dealing with this much longer than me. I've learned a great deal from these men and value their biblical insights and practical experience.
I feared being called a heretic if I suggested a person who claims to know Jesus can be demonized.
Most pastors affirm the need for spiritual warfare and the reality of the enemy and his minions. We teach our theology as though we believe it, but we don't always live as though we do. At least that was true of me. Until recently.
With postmodernism beginning to dominate our culture, people are recognizing that science and technology don't provide all the answers we as human beings are looking for. There's more to life and existence than just what meets the eye. There is something supernatural, beyond nature, preternatural. No doubt this is why we're seeing an unprecedented increase in television shows dealing with the supernatural and paranormal.
The Fear Factors
While most of us don't have a problem believing theologically in the supernatural or the demonic, when it comes to real stories of demonization, there's a serious reluctance to engage. I think there are several fears at play.
First is fear of the unknown. It's one thing to have a doctrine or a theory about the demonic realm; it's a whole other thing to actually encounter it. You feel ill-equipped. What can it do to me? What does it know about me? What's going to be revealed about me in any kind of confrontation? That's part of it.
Second, there's fear of the extreme behaviors of some Christians who have gone overboard in seeking out and reacting to possible demonization.
When I first became a Christian, in college, I went to an outdoor Jesus festival and saw people laying hands on each other and screaming at each other: "I cast out a demon in you." "No! I cast it out in you." Counter casting out each other's demons!
I remember thinking, This is crazy! And being from northern New Jersey, I tend to be a bit cynical, so I went to the other extreme, avoiding the whole thing so I wouldn't be associated with such insanity.
Third, some of the strange phenomena encountered can be quite odd and intimidating. I've seen some people curl up in a fetal position, snarling. Some make noises, chattering in ways human beings just don't. Others try to hurt themselves, pounding their head on the table. Some spew hateful threats at me and others in the room.
These things are clearly not coming from the person I know whose body is sitting there.
I saw one young woman point her legs straight out under the desk, locked rigidly in place for more than ten minutes. I mean, if you're an Olympic gymnast maybe you can do that, but this person was not a gymnast.
But the physical phenomena aren't the most dangerous aspects. One of my mentors was telling me about a case he had, and as he was confronting a spirit, the fleeting thought came into his mind: Man, you're something to be able to do this. You're a pretty powerful guy. "I entertained that thought for a brief moment, and a second later, the guy punches me in the face, breaking my nose, knocking me to the floor."
"I share that story," he said, "because pride is the main weapon the enemy will use against you. The fact that you don't want to be involved in this kind of ministry is perhaps why God has sent it to you. I think we need to be wise and careful, but we don't need to be afraid."
The Real Issue is Getting Unstuck
Most of the people I've dealt with have reached a point in their lives where they're stuck. They can't progress any further in their spiritual life. Transformation has been arrested. In some cases, they've gone for medical help, they've gone for psychological help. They've taken medications. They've gone from counselor to counselor, but they remain stuck. They can't move forward. You have to ask, "What's going on with this person?"
In most cases, as you begin to probe, you discover things they've been involved with—whether heavy use of drugs, promiscuous sex, physical abuse, or involvement with the occult.
For example, one individual was a habitual liar, lying about everything, and really didn't know why she would do it. She'd been a Christian a long time and realized it was wrong. Yet, it was ruining her marriage. But she couldn't seem to stop, despite years of counseling.
In 23 years of being a pastor, I'd never suggested this to anyone, but I finally asked her, "Do you think there could be something deeper spiritually at work?"
The point of deliverance is to free people from being stuck and unable to walk freely with Christ.
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe. I never really thought about it."
"Would you be willing to talk to someone about the spiritual side of this and the possible spirits that might be involved?"
"Yeah, I would."
As a result, she met with one of my mentors and was eventually delivered of this oppression, but not until after I witnessed demonic manifestations that were quite unexpected.
It is foolish to jump to demonic conclusions too quickly. You have to listen carefully, look at a person's life history, listen for patterns, and depend on the Holy Spirit, but the point of deliverance is to free people from being stuck and unable to walk freely with Christ.
Today I continue on this journey. What I've learned most over the past couple years is not rocket science, just reality. As human beings we are complicated creatures physically, socially, intellectually, psychologically, and spiritually. Understanding and untangling all of those in the life of a hurting person is not simple. Jumping too quickly to a conclusion that involves the demonic can be hurtful not helpful.
However, to ignore the spiritual side of things is also a mistake. As C.S. Lewis wrote: "There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors."
Even pastors can find themselves on the opposite ends of these extremes. Personally and professionally, I'm trying to find the balance.
To go deeper, see our recommended resources on spiritual warfare.
Ray Kollbocker is pastor of Parkview Community Church in Glen Ellyn, Illinois.
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