"Shadows of Sin" | The Rev. Heidi Thorsen | September 29, 2024

When you think of an exorcism, what comes to mind?

I’m sure for many it’s the 1973 film The Exorcist, and its iconic scenes of a young girl sitting in bed, wearing a bedraggled nightgown, and shouting at a hapless priest. There’s the famous scene where her head turns a complete 360 degrees. And of course the other classic scene where her body levitates above the bed as the priest shouts repeatedly, “The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!”

Now I’ve done a lot of research for sermons, and I have to say that some of my least favorite research was preparing for this particular sermon by watching clips of The Exorcist this week - I say this as a person who hates scary movies, and occasionally finds the cartoon Scooby Doo just a bit too suspenseful. Nevertheless, I wanted to watch these clips because they are so much a part of our popular culture’s understanding of what an exorcism is.

But what is the Episcopal Church’s understanding of exorcism? And, perhaps even a bigger question for those sitting in the pews, why on earth am I talking about exorcism today?

I’ll start with the first question, because it’s a bit simpler to answer. I will read to you from An Episcopal Dictionary of the Church, an online resource provided by the national church office. Their definition for Exorcism is, as follows:

“[Exorcism is] The driving out of evil spirits from persons or places with authority derived from Christ. The NT records exorcisms performed by Jesus, e.g. Mk 5:1-13, and by the apostles, e.g., Acts 16:18. The BOS [Book of Occasional Services, an authorized liturgical resource from the Episcopal Church] does not provide a rite of exorcism, but it gives these guidelines: ‘Those who find themselves in need of such a ministry should make the fact known to the bishop, through their parish priest, in order that the bishop may determine whether exorcism is needed, who is to perform the rite, and what prayers and other formularies are to be used.’”

In other words: talk to the bishop!

The glossary continues: “Liturgies of the Episcopal Church retain elements of exorcism. Following an ancient tradition, several prayers of the catechumenate call for release from the powers of evil. More commonly, spiritual cleansing and deliverance is the practice of those who pray, ‘Deliver us from evil.’” [1]

Apologies for the long encyclopedic info drop, though I know that for many people this information isn’t boring, but kind of fascinating. It may be surprising to some people that the Episcopal Church acknowledges exorcism, even to the limited extent that it does. 

This glossary entry also helps explain why I am talking about exorcism today. First of all the concept of exorcism, or the casting out of demons, is present in our Gospel passage from Mark, as the disciples are trying to make sense of others who are casting out demons in Jesus’ name, but are not a part of their immediate group of disciples. Secondly, today at our 10:30am service we are celebrating a baptism - and it just so happens that our baptism liturgy is one of those few places in the Book of Common Prayer that contains a remnant of that tradition of exorcism. In a few minutes, after I’ve wrapped up this sermon, we will introduce our candidate for baptism. Her parents and godparents will be asked a series of questions, as follows:

Q: Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?

A: I renounce them.

Q: Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?

A: I renounce them.

Q: Do you renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God?

A: I renounce them.

These words are a kind of minor exorcism. You might hear, in the repetition of these words - I renounce them, I renounce them - a much more toned down version of those words the priest in The Exorcist says - The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!

It’s probably around this point that E’s parents are thinking, “dear God, what have we gotten ourselves into.” And yet we’ve all gotten ourselves into this faith, and I believe we would do it again. We profess the faith of Christ crucified, and for us that is not only a faith of joy, and hope, and resurrection - it is also a faith that recognizes that there are deep and threatening shadows in this world. Shadows of sin, selfishness, power, corruption. The shadow of state-sponsored violence, as five men were executed by the US government this past week under the guise of capital punishment. We have to ask ourselves: would Jesus do that? Or are those executions more reminiscent of the Roman Empire that put Jesus on the cross?

As Christians we don’t simply ignore these sinful shadows in the world. We acknowledge them - so that we can renounce them. We acknowledge them - so that we can turn away from sin and towards the death-defying love and mercy and justice of God.

Our Christian faith isn’t just kumbaya moments around a campfire when everyone is getting along with each other - though there are moments when we are truly swept away by the beauty of community, and the beauty of holiness. Beyond and in addition to all of that, our Christian faith has teeth. It compels us to think about how we can be better, for ourselves and for our community. It gives us tools to face, with bravery, a complicated world. And this is the best gift that we can pass on to our children, through the sacrament of baptism. This is the best gift we can give ourselves, as we continue to navigate our own journey of faith in smooth and stormy waters.

Our Gospel passage for today gives us just a small taste of that faith with teeth, as Jesus says to his disciples: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off… if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out.” These words are hyperbole, yes. But they are still serious words. They remind us that love isn’t simply a Hallmark platitude. Love is a powerful force that moves us to look out for ourselves and our neighbors - and to constantly expand our understanding of who our neighbor is. That powerful love compels us to look at the stumbling blocks that keep us from living in authentic relationship with one another, and with God - and to do something about them. 

Thankfully, as our baptism liturgy reminds us, we do this with God’s help. But it’s often up to us to start that process. It’s up to us to not simply focus on the happy, abundant aspects of our faith, but to also remember those places in our lives where we feel called to renounce evil, and turn away from mistakes we have made; to repent the ways that we have harmed others (intentionally or unintentionally), and do better.

I believe that the way of Jesus Christ is a way of abundant life. And that life comes not from avoiding the powers of sin and death, but by facing them head on, and moving through them to the promise of the resurrection.

By now I’ve talked about exorcism, I’ve talked about capital punishment - and I’d like to end on a slightly more uplifting note. Because I do believe that the way of Jesus is ultimately the way of abundance; the way of unfettered joy; the way of love. In our letter from the Book of James this week, the author talks about praying for those who are sick and suffering. But he also talks about joy. “Are any among you cheerful?” James asks. “They should sing songs of praise.” Our faith is broad enough to contain the full spectrum of human experience, from joy to suffering. Wherever you are on that spectrum today, may God be with you in it. And in light of our greater church community, and our candidate who will be baptized today, I hope you can also sing some songs of praise with us today. Because God’s goodness is greater than all the shadows in this world. Amen.

[1] “Exorcism,” An Episcopal Dictionary of the Church, accessed 9.26.2024. www.episcopalchurch.org/glossary/exorcism/