I got a call from a man I don’t know. He left a voicemail detailing the trouble he was having in his apartment. Through whimpering and sobs, he described a spirit that was tormenting him. It was in his bed and had stolen his laptop and wallet. Recently, it came in through his eye, giving him a migraine, resulting in blurry vision. “Please call me. I really need your help. I have tried everything.” I received the voicemail while I was on vacation and decided to ignore this stranger’s plea for safety. I felt oddly peaceful walking to the beach with my family and not responding to this particular mental health crisis. After all, I was on vacation and even Jesus went away to a quiet place to pray. The next day while I was sitting on the sunny deck of our home away from home, reading, and drinking coffee, my phone rang again. He left another voicemail expressing a desperate need for help. I called him back and had a surprisingly reasonable conversation. Anthony had got my phone number from his building manager whom I had met years ago. A devote Catholic, the building manager asked me to pray for the curse that was on the building. Several people had died by suicide, and she believed there was an evil presence that had taken hold over the space and residents. Anthony talked with me about his problems, and we agreed I would visit him when I was back in town, I asked if he wanted to pray and if he thought that would be helpful. “Yes, please pray for me, I have tried everything.” We prayed and ended our call with respectful pleasantries. I was amazed that he didn’t ask me for a bus ticket, a cell phone, or accuse me of being an informant for the FBI.

A few weeks later, Reverand Rick Reynolds and I went to visit him. Anthony smiled as he led us into his tiny, subsidized apartment. A tapestry of Jesus with a crown of thorns hung over his window. The poster of a Lion taped above his bed along with the neon Lets Party sign made Rick and I feel like we were in the right place! Anthony had been burning sage in hopes of “cleansing” the space. We talked about mental health therapy and medicine. I offered the idea that it was good to have a team of people from a variety of disciplines to help us in times of need. That sometimes what seems spiritual can also be brain chemistry or a need to have some prescriptions reevaluated. Anthony said that he took anti psychotics and was a diabetic. He said he had told his doctor about what was going on, but it didn’t seem to go anywhere. After we prayed, Rick anointed his doorway with oil and prayed again, explaining that it wasn’t magic but symbolic of God’s love and protection. Earlier in the day, Rick pulled the anointing oil out of his pocket unaware of why he had it or how it ended up in his possession! We often don’t know what we’re doing or how we end up where we are either!

Anthony seemed relieved and smiled when I said that we had vanquished his apartment from the disturbing spirit and that if it happens again to know that he is safe and loved. Anthony calls me every few days to talk about the spirit’s return to his room and how he is being tormented. I listen, tell him that we can pray, and that mental health care is always a good idea. He thanks me, and asks me if what I have suggested will work. I let him know gently that, God loves him and that “I have tried everything.” “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2 NIV).”

Michael Cox