Spirit Daily
__________________________________________
An Interview With Father
Gabriele Amorth:
The Church's Leading Exorcist
by
Gyles Brandreth of The Sunday Telegraph
Reprinted with permission
The Daily Telegraph
The Sunday Telegraph
http://syndication.telegraph.co.uk
This interview first appeared in the 29th October 2000 issue of The Sunday Telegraph
On
the bumpy flight to Rome I read The Bible all the way. The passenger
on my left - a wiry businesswoman from Wisconsin - found this
disconcerting. As the turbulence worsened and I moved from Jude to
Revelation, she hissed at me, "Do you have to?" "It's only
background reading," I murmured. She grimaced. "What for?" I turned
to her and whispered: "I'm going to meet the exorcist." "Oh Christ,"
she gasped, as the plane lurched and hot coffee spilled over us.
Father Gabriele Amorth is indeed the exorcist, the most senior and
respected member of his calling. A priest for 50 years, he is the
undisputed leader of the city's six exorcists (appointed by the
cardinal to whom the Pope delegates the office of Vicar of Rome) and
honorary president-for-life of the International Association of
Exorcists. He is 75, small, spry, humorous, and wonderfully direct.
"I speak with the Devil every day," he says, grinning like a
benevolent gargoyle. "I talk to him in Latin. He answers in Italian.
I have been wrestling with him, day in day out, for 14 years."
On cue (God is not worried by clichés) a shaft of October sunlight
falls across Father Amorth's pale, round face. We are sitting at a
table by the window in a small high-ceilinged meeting room at his
Rome headquarters, the offices of the Society of St Paul. Father
Amorth has come to exorcism late in life, but with impressive
credentials. Born in 1925 in Modena, northern Italy, the son and
grandson of lawyers (his brother is a judge), Gabriele Amorth, in
his late teens, joined the Italian resistance.
Immediately after the war, he became a member of the fledgling
Christian Democratic Party. Giulo Andreotti was president of the
Young Christian Democrats, Amorth was his deputy. Andreotti went
into politics and was seven times prime minister. Amorth, having
studied law at university, went into the Church.
"From the age of 15," be says, "I knew it was my true vocation. My
speciality was the Madonna. For many years I edited the magazine
Madre di Deo (Mother of God). When I hear people say, 'You Catholics
honour Mary too much,' I reply, 'We are never able to honour her
enough.'
"I knew nothing of exorcism - I had given it no thought - until June
6, 1986 when Cardinal Poletti, the then Vicar of Rome, asked to see
me. There was a famous exorcist in Rome then, the only one, Father
Candido, but he was not well, and Cardinal Poletti told me I was to
be his assistant. I learnt everything from Father Candido. He was my
great master. Quickly I realised how much work there was to be done
and how few exorcists there were to do it. From that day, I dropped
everything and dedicated myself entirely to exorcism."
Father Amorth smiles continually as he tells his story. His
enthusiasm for his subject is infectious and engaging. "Jesus
performed exorcisms. He cast out demons. He freed souls from demonic
possession and from Him the Church has received the power and office
of exorcism. A simple exorcism is performed at every baptism, but
major exorcism can be performed only by a priest licensed by the
bishop. I have performed over 50,000 exorcisms. Sometimes it takes a
few minutes, sometimes many hours. It is hard work multo duro."
How does he recognise someone possessed by evil spirits? "It is not
easy. There are many grades of possession. The Devil does not like
to be seen, so there are people who are possessed who manage to
conceal it. There are other cases where the person possessed is in
acute physical pain, such agony that they cannot move.
"It is essential not to confuse demonic possession with ordinary
illness. The symptoms of possession often include violent headaches
and stomach cramps, but you must always go to the doctor before you
go to the exorcist. I have people come to me who are not possessed
at all. They are suffering from epilepsy or schizophrenia or other
mental problems. Of the thousands of patients I have seen, only a
hundred or so have been truly possessed."
"How can you tell?"
"By their aversion to the sacrament and all things sacred. If
blessed they become furious. If confronted with the crucifix, they
are subdued." "But couldn't an hysteric imitate the symptoms?"
"We can sort out the phoney ones. We look into their eyes. As part
of the exorcism, at specific times during the prayers, holding two
fingers on the patient's eyes we raise the eyelids. Almost always,
in cases of evil presence, the eyes look completely white. Even with
the help of both hands, we can barely discern whether the pupils are
towards the top or the bottom of the eye. If the pupils are looking
up, the demons in possession are scorpions. If looking down, they
are serpents."
As I report this now, it sounds absurd. As Father Amorth told it to
me, it felt entirely credible.
I had gone to Rome expecting - hoping, even - for a chilling
encounter, but instead of a sinister bug-eyed obsessive lurking in
the shadows of a Hammer Horror film set, here I was sitting in an
airy room facing a kindly old man with an uncanny knack for making
the truly bizarre seem wholly rational. He has God on his side and
customers at his door. The demand for exorcism is growing as never
before. Fifteen years ago there were 20 church-appointed exorcists
in Italy. Now there are 300.
I ask Father Amorph to describe the ritual of exorcism.
"Ideally, the exorcist needs another priest to help him and a group
nearby who will assist through prayer. The ritual does not specify
the stance of the exorcist. Some stand, some sit. The ritual says
only that, beginning with the words Ecce crucem Domini ('Behold the
Cross of the Lord') the priest should touch the neck of the
possessed one with the hem of his stole and hold his hand on his
head. The demons will want to hide. Our task is to expose them, and
then expel them. There are many ways to goad them into showing
themselves. Although the ritual does not mention this, experience
has taught us that using oil and holy water and salt can be very
effective.
"Demons are wary of talking and must be forced to speak. When demons
are voluntarily chatty it's a trick to distract the exorcist. We
must never ask useless questions out of curiosity. We but must
interrogate with care. We always begin by asking for the demon's
name."
"And does he answer?" I ask. Father Amorth nods. "Yes, through the
patient, but in a strange, unnatural voice. If it is the Devil
himself, he says 'I am Satan, or Lucifer, or Beelzebub. We ask if he
is alone or if there are others with him. Usually there are two or
five, 20 or 30. We must quantify the number. We ask when and how
they entered that particular body. We find out whether their
presence is due to a spell and the specifics of that spell.
"During the exorcism the evil may emerge in slow stages or with
sudden explosions. He does not want show himself. He will be angry
and he is strong. During one exorcism I saw a child of 11 held down
by four strong men. The child threw the men aside with ease. I was
there when a boy of 10 lifted a huge, heavy table.
"Afterwards I felt the muscles in the boy's arms. He could not have
done it on his own. He had the strength of the Devil inside him.
"No two cases are the same. Some patients have to be tied down on a
bed. They spit. They vomit. At first the demon will try to
demoralise the exorcist, then he will try to terrify him, saying,
'Tonight I'm going to put a serpent between your sheets. Tomorrow
I'm going to eat your heart'."
I lean towards Father Amorth. "And are you sometimes frightened?" I
ask. He looks incredulous. "Never. I have faith. I laugh at the
demon and say to him, 'I've got the Madonna on my side. I am called
Gabriel. Go fight the Archangel Gabriel if you will.' That usually
shuts them up."
Now he leans towards me and taps my hand confidentially. "The secret
is to find your demon's weak spot. Some demons cannot bear to have
the Sign of the Cross traced with a stole on an aching part of the
body; some cannot stand a puff of breath on the face; others resist
with all their strength against blessing with holy water.
"Relief for the patient is always possible, but to completely rid a
person of his demons can take many exorcisms over many years. For a
demon to leave a body and go back to hell means to die forever and
to lose any ability to molest people in the future. He expresses his
desperation saying: 'I am dying, I am dying. You are killing me; you
have won. All priests are murderers'."
How do people come to be possessed by demons in the first place? "I
believe God sometimes singles out certain souls for a special test
of spiritual endurance, but more often people lay themselves open to
possession by dabbling with black magic. Some are entrapped by a
satanic cult. Others are the victims of a curse."
I interrupt. "You mean like Yasser Arafat saying to Ehud Barak, 'Go
to Hell' and meaning it?"
"No." Father Amorth gives me a withering look. "That is merely a
sudden imprecation. It is very difficult to perform a curse. You
need to be a priest of Satan to do it properly. Of course, just as
you can hire a killer if you need one, you can hire a male witch to
utter a curse on your behalf. Most witches are frauds, but I am
afraid some authentic ones do exist."
Father Amorth shakes his head and sighs at the wickedness of the
world. At the outset be has told me he is confident he will have an
answer to all my questions, but he has a difficulty with the next
one. "Why do many more women seem to become possessed than men?"
"Ah, that we do not know. They may be more vulnerable because, as a
rule, more women than men are interested in the occult. Or it may be
the Devil's way of getting at men, just as he got to Adam through
Eve. What we do know is that the problem is getting worse. The Devil
is gaining ground. We are living in an age when faith is
diminishing. If you abandon God, the Devil will take his place.
"All faiths, all cultures, have exorcists, but only Christianity has
the true force to exorcise through Christ's example and authority.
We need many more exorcists, but the bishops won't appoint them. In
many countries - Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Spain there are no
Catholic exorcists. It is a scandal. In England there are more
Anglican exorcists than Catholic ones."
Although the post of exorcist is an official diocesan appointment
(there are about 300 attached to the various bishops throughout
Italy) and Father Amorth is undisputably the best known in his
field, there is some tension between Amorth and the modernising
tendencies in the Church hierarchy.
Devil-hunting is not fashionable in senior church circles. The
Catholic establishment is happier talking about "the spirit of evil"
than evil spirits. The Vatican recently issued a new rite of
exorcism which has not met with Father Amorth's approval. "They say
we cannot perform an exorcism unless we know for certain that the
Evil One is present. That is ridiculous. It is only through exorcism
that the demons reveal themselves. An unnecessary exorcism never
hurt anybody."
What does the Pope make of all this? "The Holy Father knows that the
Devil is still alive and active in the world. He has performed
exorcism. In 1982, he performed a solemn exorcism on a girl from
Spoletto. She screamed and rolled on the floor. Those who saw it
were very frightened. The Pope brought her temporary freedom.
"The other day, on September 6, at his weekly audience at St
Peter's, a young woman from a village near Monza started to shriek
as the Pope was about to bless her. She shouted obscenities at him
in a strange voice. The Pope blessed her and brought her relief, but
the Devil is still in her. She is exorcised each week in Milan and
she is now coming to me once a month. It may take a long time to
help her, but we must try. The work of the exorcists is to relieve
suffering, to free souls from torment, to bring us closer to God."
Father Amorth has laughed and smiled a good deal during our
three-hour discussion. He has pulled sundry rude faces to indicate
his contempt for the pusillanimous bishops who have a monopoly on
exorcism and refuse to license more practitioners. In his mouth it
does not seem like mumbo-jumbo or hocus-pocus. He produces detailed
case histories. He quotes scriptural chapter and verse to justify
his actions. And he has a large following. His book, An Exorcist
Tells his Story, has been reprinted in Italy 17 times.
Given his shining faith and scholarly approach, I hardly dare ask
him whether he has seen the notorious 1973 horror film, The
Exorcist. It turns out to be his favourite film. "Of course, the
special effects are exaggerated. but it is a good film, and
substantially exact, based on a respectable novel which mirrored a
true story."
The film is held to be so disturbing it has never been shown [until
recently] on British terrestrial television and until last year
could not even be rented from video shops. None the less, Father
Amorth recommends it. "People need to know what we do."
And what about Hallowe'en? The American tradition has made no
inroads in Italy. "Here it is on Christmas Eve that the Satanists
have their orgies. Nothing happens on October 31. But if English and
American children like to dress up as witches and devils on one
night of the year that is not a problem. If it is just a game, there
is no harm in that.''
It is time to go to the chapel where our photographer is waiting.
Father Atnorth, used to the ways of the press, raises an eyebrow at
us indulgently as he realises the photograph is designed to heighten
the drama of his calling. Pictures taken, he potters off to find me
of one ot his books.
"What do make of him?'' asks the photographer. "Is he mad?"
"I don't think so,'' I say. The award-winning Daily and Sunday
Telegraph Rome correspondent, who has acted as interpreter br the
interview, and is both a lapsed Catholic and a hardened hack, is
more empathic: "There's not a trace of the charlatan about him. He
is quite sane and utterly convincing."
Surprised at myself I add: "He seems to me to be a power for good in
the world." With a smirk, the photographer loads his gear into the
back of the taxi. ''So he's Peter Cushing then, not Christopher
Lee," he says.
Father Amorth reappears with his book and smiles. "Remember, when we
jeer at the Devil and tell ourselves that he does not exist, that is
when he is happiest."
May 2006