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On Leaving The Occult

A Christian convert from the dark side explains what church people need to know about people like her
Screen Shot 2023-01-13 at 5.14.09 PM

I've been going through archives of Rod Dreher's Diary, my subscriber-only Substack newsletter about religious stuff, and I came across this letter sent to me back in 2021 by a friend and reader who is now an Orthodox Christian, but who spent a long time in the occult. She gave me permission to post this. Maybe there are some of you who need to read it:

One of the problems when you leave the occult is people wanting to hear the spooky, salacious stuff. No one, as the psalm says, cares for your soul.

I've told you that I have had people push me to become a "public convert" and make the interview/blog/podcast rounds and I have staunchly resisted that. Some people can do it gracefully, but they have support systems and solid communities. I don't, and I have learned that leaves me vulnerable to depression and despair, so I am more careful now about my public presence.

But after I read your post The Light From The Dark, I had a conversation with someone who has roughly 15 ex-pagans/occultists as catechumens in their Orthodox church. That's astounding. So many of us are pouring into Orthodoxy, especially this year. I marvel at this, filled with wonder and concern. So many broken people, and the fathers in the church haven't had to deal with an influx of our ilk for centuries.

I was raised Southern Baptist. Lots of activities. Not much faith. I remember being a little soured on church when I was 11 when my elderly Sunday school teacher broke down in tears talking about how boys were going to use us and pass us around like a pack of cigarettes. You had a reader write about this unsettling phenomenon of sexualizing Sunday school and youth groups before. When someone is hyper-focused on your virginity, you become aware they don't care about your soul. 

My parents were neglectful and abusive. I'm not going to detail that but it was bad. I tried to figure out faith on my own when they stopped taking us to church. I was confused and the impression that Evangelicalism left me that God was hyper-focused on my sexuality as a young woman only taught me to read the Bible via a very gendered and sexualized lens. After my father died, I left Christianity. All the women in the Bible, with precious few exceptions, it seemed to me were defined by sex. I was a deeply traumatized, broken, overweight 17-year-old with no future, who didn't know where her next meal was coming from and had just lost the last semi-stable person in her life. Of course I was vulnerable to the occult.

In that moment, the concept of God as female was so incredibly healing for me. There was no one to correct my misconceptions of Christianity, I felt like the God of the Bible hated me, no one to talk to, and I was utterly powerless and impoverished on every level. It's very difficult to conceive of a God who loves you when your parents don't love you. 

The idea of magic and spells, of gods small enough to bargain with, or the power of the mind, gave me hope in a hopeless time. I spent almost two decades in occultism, in different flavors and with varying levels of commitment. I found the more deeply active and committed I was, the more depressed I was.

How I didn't end up in a terrifying cult is beyond me. I wanted to be loved and to belong so desperately. I would join groups that taught things I didn't believe, built on lies in confusion, because people were nice to me. Looking back, that these people inevitably hurt me should have been no surprise. 

Ironically, these communities were obsessed with sex. There was this idea that sex abuse wasn't a thing in pagan and occult circles because they were more enlightened. But in truth if you objected to sexual abuse or harassment you were merely labeled uptight. I thought I was sexually enlightened until my poor decisions put me in a vulnerable position and I was raped. 

I did everything from lighting candles and saying affirmations, to using Victorian rituals to summon demons. I was part of a witchcraft group that hid part of it's teachings until you officially became a member. And there was the hope that once you gained that knowledge things might make sense. I was actually traumatized when my initiation involved people pushing knife points into my chest, and then my blood was drawn without my consent (you're intentionally disoriented prior) for the group leader to hold onto to use against me should I break the oaths of secrecy. Of course, the curse levied was that the tools of witchcraft would turn against me, because they couldn't imagine someone not seeking power. 

And once a member, I saw the full rituals and the summoning of the Watchers, and I was shaken by a very real demonic presence. It was as if we were surrounded by dragons, large lizard-like beings that were not kindly disposed. I wanted to know what they were calling, and why, and what the relationship was and they seemed a little dumbfounded. That's when I realized they didn't really believe what they were doing. It was spiritual LARPing. It was like babies playing with matches. They had embraced something vaguely therapeutic, that gave them a sense of identity and indulged their passions. And summoned demons.

I'm not into woo-woo. I approach all notions of miracles, angels, demons, with a deep sense of skepticism. In two decades in the occult, I became adept at not rolling my eyes when people talked about energy, faeries, and other nonsense. And that skepticism and tolerance spiritually numbed me, because now I realize I don't react to blasphemy or spiritually unhealthy environments. I'm working on that, with the help of my spiritual father. But yeah, I don't see ghosts and demons lurking in every dark corner.

So what do I mean when I talk about demons? I don't like talking about this, but maybe I should talk about it. It's inviting something in, and that something is dark and has a heaviness to it. It's something that sits and lurks, like the spiritual equivalent of an oil slick. It's scary, especially the first time, but often it isn't as scary as whatever very real need you have that drove you to this. It feels benignly malevolent, as if it isn't particularly interested in you, but doesn't exactly mean you well either. And it's easier the second time, and the third, etc... You romanticize it, like a spiritual drug that offers you the illusion of control. It doesn't really bring you what you want, but you cling to any small perceived success as vindication. Your life becomes more confusing, more filled with lies and cognitive dissonance. Everything feels like an illusion. Your relationships suffer. You realize the ritual and the "magic" isn't doing anything so you seek a relationship with the demon, but the demon doesn't want a relationship. It wants to consume you.

The demon doesn't want a relationship. It wants to consume you.

With some distance, I now believe that the real goal of demons is to drive you to suicide, so you are theirs forever. 

I think priests may not always know what to do with these people. So when someone tells you they are from an occult or pagan background, here are some things you need to assume and assess right off the bat:

+ This is a person who is deeply traumatized and is in recovery. Treat them with the same caution and care as someone coming out of rehab for heroin addiction. Spiritual damage isn't as obvious as the marks left by needles and razor blades, but you can safely assume they are deeply damaged.

+ You don't have to convince them of the reality of evil, but it's going to be hard to convince them of the reality of good. The idea that God loves and forgives them is going to be incredibly hard for them to accept.

+ They may cling to the church tenaciously, to the point of legalism, and while they are as prone to convert silliness as anyone else it may be that they are drowning and this is the only life raft they can find.

+ They are going to be embarrassed of their past and full of confusion. While they may need medical care, including mental health, they are in real need of spiritual guidance and will need some time to learn to trust you. Pagan/occult communities are full of broken people who hurt each other a lot.

+ They need a path by which to process their past and put it in perspective. Dismissing demons as not real or worthy of consideration isn't helpful for someone who has encountered them face to face. The Lord of Spirits podcast, hosted by Fr. Andrew Stephen Damick and Fr Stephen de Young, is an excellent resource.

+ They need tools to help them ground themselves in spiritual reality, because it will take awhile for them to feel spiritually safe. Holy water, praying to St Michael, a prayer rule, etc... They need whatever they can get. The level of support they need here, especially wanting things blessed, might feel silly to you but will bring them great comfort.

+ Accepting the salvation of Christ isn't going to make their lives easier. Baptism, chrismation, and communion doesn't solve everything. Perhaps more so than the average convert, they need to see this as the beginning of recovery and salvation, not an end goal. Especially if they come from occult traditions with levels, where there is always another goal to work towards.

+ You can't assume some basics with them. They may need a deep dive on morality and what is expected of a professing Christian. Don't assume they understand sexual morality, especially if there are people in your church who aren't abiding by church teaching (having children with partners they aren't married to), because they are going to be really confused by this and afraid to ask because they remember that weepy old lady from their Sunday school class. There may also be a need to go over things you normally wouldn't, like drug use and the Orthodox view on ethnicity. They may come from a background where psychedelics and racism were normalized, but may be afraid to discuss this.

+ They likely won't understand how to be in community and will need more guidance on how to engage in parish life than some converts.

+ They've had a lot of smooth talkers tell them what they want to hear. They will appreciate your being straight with them and correcting them.

+ I and II Corinthians are really important for them to read and study, because St Paul is demonstrating how a spiritual father loves, corrects, and instructs people like them.

For a long time Orthodoxy, like many other Christian traditions, has received converts from other Christian traditions or non-religious converts with a basic understanding of Christianity. But I think churches are going to see a lot more "Corinthians" show up and Glory to God for that! 

I think you're right, that safely guided and properly instructed, these converts will be tenacious in their faith and hungry for God. But they also have unique challenges, some of which we have discussed, that makes it hard for them to assimilate into healthy Christian community. And I think the first hurdle to jump in helping them is understanding that you are dealing with someone who has seen demons face-to-face, even if they can't articulate it to you that way yet.

After two decades in occultism, it has taken me over two years in my journey to Orthodoxy to begin to feel like the demons are behind me and God loves and forgives me. I have a ways to go yet, but every day I am grateful that God sends his priests to Corinth as well as Jerusalem. I chose Photina as my patron saint because I have to be regularly reminded that God knows every detail of my past, and he loves, forgives, and values me anyway. Over 20 years ago I would have dismissed her as a woman defined and shamed by sex. That I now see her as valorous, valiant, and victorious, equal-to-the-Apostles, apostle to the Samaritans, glorious martyr, and righteous saint says a lot about how Christ has changed me, and illumined my darkness with light.

"...even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you." Psalm 139:12

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PhilBackhouse
PhilBackhouse
Demons : "that something is dark and has a heaviness to it. It's something that sits and lurks, like the spiritual equivalent of an oil slick."

Yikes!
schedule 1 year ago
Fran Macadam
Fran Macadam
Heaviness and oppressive. Exactly how I'd describe proximity to the demonic.
schedule 1 year ago
Theodore Iacobuzio
Theodore Iacobuzio
This courageous woman really is what so many phonies tell you they are: a Spiritual Person. That of course left her open to evil spirits, as well as to grace. She could see her creepy friends weren't just LARPing (cf. Kit Marlowe). That's what Elaine Pagels Christianity has forgotten. The spiritual is not necessarily good.

As Father Brown says to Flambeau, "I never said it was always wrong to enter Fairyland. I only said it was always dangerous."
schedule 1 year ago
GArcuri
GArcuri
Profoundly moving. So clear and concise. Thank you for posting this, and to the author of this letter. It has given us deep insight into the occult.
schedule 1 year ago
GArcuri
GArcuri
I forgot to ask a question in my initial comment. The author of this letter refers to the "Orthodox view on ethnicity". Can you explain to your readers exactly what that is?
Thanks.
schedule 1 year ago