Pastors

DEALING WITH DELIVERANCE

Even when you don’t go looking for a battle with darkness, sometimes there is no avoiding it.

Spiritual warfare. Oppression. Deliverance. The terms are laden with controversy and connotations of demons and exorcism, angels and the armies of heaven. These mysterious matters have become hot topics in many churches. Pastors often wonder what spiritual influences are affecting their counselees. The following four articles offer one pastor's story of an unexpected "spiritual encounter," another pastor's analysis of demonic influence, a third pastor's discussion of what needs to happen after an experience of deliverance, and a Christian psychologist's understanding of the relationship between conversion, deliverance, and therapy.

I'm sure my mouth gaped as the young wife verbally assaulted her husband. She screamed poisonous, vindictive words at him an octave above her normal level.

Although previously she had confessed these violent episodes, I assumed she had exaggerated. Now I witnessed the full force of their fury.

"You're a liar. You've been scheming with other women to commit adultery!" she shrieked. "And you're trying to turn Pastor Wayne against me! I hate you!"

I let her rage for half a minute, hoping the anger would spend itself, but it only intensified. I'm not one to immediately assume demonic influence. But now I felt we had to probe the possibility directly-her violence was so strong, the charges so irrational, the anger so deep.

First I had to break through the turbulence. I cupped my hands over my lips and silently mouthed the words, "In the name of Jesus, I command you to stop." I didn't say it loud enough for me to hear, much less her.

But something heard!

In mid-sentence her scream halted. She whirled from her husband and faced me head on. An icy stare chilled my soul. Her face twisted into a mocking scowl.

She laughed. In a tone as vile as any witch concocted by Hollywood, her laugh filled every corner of the room. It went on and on, lasting well over 15 seconds. Every hair on my skin stood erect. I groped for something to do or say. Finally, the laughter stopped, and there we sat, our eyes locked. I remember thinking, This must be what a wolf looks like before it attacks.

I really hate moments like that.

I prefer calm pastoral counseling sessions that send smiling Christians on their way knowing a little more about God and feeling better about themselves. And that's generally the case. On rare occasions, however, as I deal with troubled people, I detect some problems that run deeper than human psychosis. There are powers of darkness that oppress or possess them. And that shouldn't surprise me. Jesus confronted demonic power throughout his ministry, as did the early church.

But how do I deal with it? It seems Hollywood writes more about demons and exorcism than do serious scholars in the church. Exorcism scares up an image of a priest holding a crucifix over a contorted face.

Well, I didn't try that with the angry wife, but we did have success.

The First Artillery Shots

I first met Bob and Judy (not their real names) after a Sunday morning service. They had come on the recommendation of a friend.

Two weeks later Judy called, "Wayne, could I come and see you this afternoon? Our marriage is falling apart. I need some help."

She came, and we talked. Two years previously they had heard the gospel through a well-known pastor who visited our community. But they never established themselves in a local church or found an effective faith.

Bob, a corporation vice president, lost his job when the parent company closed its Visalia plant. His $50,000 salary gone, he struggled through 18 months of unemployment before finding a $12,000-a-year job managing a struggling manufacturing plant.

Bills accumulated during unemployment, and child support from a previous marriage overwhelmed them. Judy gave birth to their first child, who had a birth defect demanding an immediate operation, followed by daily enemas. In all their troubles, they had been unable to find the loving God they heard so much about.

According to Judy, however, their marriage problems did not spring from these troubles. Rather, she said, they resulted from her own insecurity. Contritely, she described frequent arguments in which she accused Bob of infidelity, accusations she would later recognize as absurd. "But they seem so real at the time, I can't help myself."

We discussed her past, making sure she understood that God had not orchestrated their calamities, nor had he abandoned them. "God is far more compassionate than that," I assured her. "But it may not have felt that way because, though you came to Christ at a meeting two years ago, you've never learned to walk with him. I want to help you do that, and I'm sure we will soon see him conquer your stress."

I then requested to meet with her and Bob together early the next week. In the meantime, I encouraged her to resist her suspicions about her husband.

She left encouraged, but she had not been gone two hours before her husband called me. "Can you talk to Judy? She's having one of her fits."

"Of course, put her on."

Judy came to the phone sobbing and moaning, as if in pain. All she could say was, "Wayne, help me! Please, help me."

I prayed that the presence of the Lord would enfold her, that peace and truth would fill her mind. Her crying gradually receded and finally stopped. She took a deep breath.

"Are you okay now?" I asked.

"Oh, Wayne, the pain is gone. I feel so peaceful. What happened?"

"That's the presence of Jesus touching you. But what happened after you left my office?"

"I don't know. I got home and when I saw Bob, anger just began to well up inside. All those lies became so real, and Wayne, it hurt so bad."

I chatted with her a while longer, confirmed our appointment the following week with Bob, and hung up. The call bewildered me. How could she be so genuinely sweet and coherent with me and so irrationally angry at home?

D-Day

The day of the appointment, set for 4:00 P.M., arrived. First thing in the morning, Judy called to cancel, saying she couldn't come that day. I tried to reschedule, but she kept dodging.

"Why don't you want to come today?" I finally pressed.

She began to cry. "No one will believe me. I'll never get better. I'm just crazy."

This was the first of four such phone calls that day. At the end of each, I told her I would keep the appointment open; if she changed her mind, I would be at my home at four o'clock to see them. I spoke with Bob and invited him to come in any case, and he agreed.

At five minutes to four Judy called the last time. "He's on his way, but he will lie to you. Don't believe anything he says."

"Judy, if you want to help me get things straight, please come. But I'm going to meet with him either way. I'll help as much as possible whoever wants help, but it would be better if we could all be together."

"I can't come, Wayne, believe me. I can't face . . ."

The rest of her words were choked off by agonized sobs.

Suddenly I realized she kept calling me because she actually wanted to come, but she needed her fears calmed. "Judy, there's something in you that really wants me to talk you into coming, isn't there? But that part of you is overwhelmed by fear."

Judy was now quiet.

"Well, I'm trusting that your heart really wants to be free, and I'm going to pray for you." I asked God to bind up fear and free Judy to come. After I finished, she told me in a voice of defiance that she would come but only to defend herself.

Bob arrived just as I hung up. We sat down in the front room. Bob was tall and thin, acutely intelligent, but the last two years had clearly taken their toll. His body sagged with despair, his face full of pain.

"She's not coming," he announced.

"Yes she is. I just spoke to her, and she's on her way."

His face brightened, only for a moment. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Wayne. I can't take it anymore. Every day she screams and yells at me. I feel like I'm cracking up."

"Jesus loves you, Bob. He's going to help us find freedom for both of you. Before Judy gets here, though, I need to know something. I know we hardly know each other and that I'm asking a lot for you to be honest with me about this, but I don't have time for formalities. I need the truth, and I need it now. Are you having or have you ever had an affair? Are Judy's accusations grounded in any truth at all?"

He was taken back by my abruptness but answered nonetheless. "You mean other than her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was married when I met Judy. She worked for me when we got involved with each other. I divorced my wife to marry her. Since being with her, though, I've not so much as flirted with another woman." His tone of voice convinced me of his honesty.

Shortly thereafter Judy arrived. She marched into the room, plopped down in a wooden rocker with her baby in her lap, and stared angrily. "What has he told you?" she demanded.

"We're just getting started," I said. "I want you . . ."

Immediately she cut me off, launching into the tirade I described earlier. In my mind, the demonic influence I had suspected was now confirmed. Eyeball to eyeball, I tried to figure out what to do next.

Meanwhile the baby on her lap broke into cries of terror. I had forgotten all about her. I told Bob to take the baby and go for a drive, and I left the room with him to get my wife, Sara. "Come help me; we've got demons in the front room." I chuckled. She didn't.

We went in together, and as I began to speak, Judy again erupted in screeching laughter. I looked right into her eyes and rebuked the enemy, "Whatever spirit is tormenting this woman, I demand in Jesus' name that you let her go."

For the first few moments her laughter only intensified; then suddenly she went silent.

Judy looked at me, the stony stare now gone. This was the young lady I'd met with earlier. Her face was clear, though a bit disoriented. Then, like a bad dream, the events of the last few moments began to sink in. She grew panicky.

"I'm sorry, Wayne. I didn't want to laugh at you. Oh, what's happening to me?"

"Relax, Judy. It's not your fault." I took my Bible and read her the gospel account of Jesus breaking the demonic bondage in an epileptic boy. "There are powers at work in you that don't belong there. Do you want to be free of them?"

"Yes, yes. It was horrible."

She gave me permission to phone two other couples who are elders in our fellowship to join us for prayer. While we waited for them, we talked about her bondage, the freedom Jesus wanted to give, and what we would do when the others arrived. Her countenance brightened.

"I've never felt so free in my entire life," she said, beaming.

The transformation in her, from a snarling wolf to a docile lamb, was striking.

"Why do I feel so well? Am I free?"

"I don't think so," I answered. "I suspect it has just released its hold for a time, hoping we'll go away. When we pray with the others, we'll know for sure."

We talked briefly of her past.

She had been abused by her father. She could never remember a time when she didn't feel horribly oppressed, anxious, and fearful, often with fits of uncontrollable rage. She had even contemplated committing herself to a state hospital.

"Jesus wants to free you tonight," I assured her "You won't have to live through this hell again."

"You mean there's a chance that I can always feel like I feel right now?" She smiled and shook her head in disbelief.

The Long Battle

The others arrived, and her husband returned. My wife whisked their baby into another room to play with our kids. Calmly I briefed Bob and the elders over the events of the last hour.

Then we began with worship. We sang choruses and invited the presence of Jesus to fill our hearts and free our sister. Judy joined us, briefly.

Suddenly the alien laughter filled the room, and her face contorted in anguish. I quickly surveyed everyone in the room: some appeared nervous, one laughed confidently as we all prayed simultaneously.

Her malignant mocking only increased.

"You can't do anything for me," she sneered. "Your prayers are a joke. None of this is going to work!"

We gathered around and, following Christ's example, rebuked the evil spirit in Jesus' name. Her laughter turned to rage. Her body grew rigid.

We continued to pray aloud and address the spirit, "You have no authority over this woman. We command you to leave her." Ten minutes of the same. Twenty minutes. After 30 minutes of taking turns in praying for her and addressing the malevolent spirit directly, we stood at a weary stalemate.

I wished I'd had more training in dealing with this kind of enemy. I kept thinking of how, for Jesus, demons often came out with only a word. But I also remembered times when Scripture portrayed a stubborn struggle, even for Jesus!

Eventually the pressure eased, and Judy came back in control, though confused. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Is it gone?" I asked.

"No, it's still here. It just backed off."

For a while we talked, showing her from Scripture how God could set her free, instructing her to relax and set her mind on the Lord.

Then we focused on Judy's most important role in the conflict. We led her in a confession of commitment to the Lord Jesus. In addition, we considered her background: as a young girl, abused by those around her, finding solace in thoughts of revenge, determined to hurt others before they could hurt her, she had thereby, I assumed, opened the door for the enemy. We led her to renounce those hateful attitudes.

For the next few hours the conflict would wax and wane. The enemy would rise up, our prayers would weaken his grip, visibly, progressively, and a lull would follow. Within each prayer period, however, our effectiveness varied. Sometimes, although we said the right things biblically, our words apparently fell lifeless to the ground as the enemy continued his bondage and mockery. At other times, while we did nothing outwardly profound, the enemy would squirm. Our effectiveness seemed to hinge less on our words than on yielding with simplicity to God's presence.

But to that point, we couldn't crush the foe. We were getting tired. Concluding that we needed reinforcements, I phoned other elders to join us, and requested intercession from other members of our church who were meeting elsewhere.

They turned the tide. The demon's hold grew weaker, but not too weak for an all-out, last-ditch counterattack. Pummeled by prayer for four hours, the enemy began to speak to us directly through Judy's voice, deeper than before and full of arrogance toward God. It challenged everything we said, first telling us, "Judy is fine and doesn't need your help," then boasting, "Judy is so captive, even God couldn't free her."

We commanded silence, but the spirit railed on.

We discussed the situation and decided that our foe wasn't really trying to convince us but Judy. So we again read her Scripture, encouraging her to believe that God loved her and was strong enough to set her free. Finally, she grew quiet.

Then, as the evening's parting shot, one of our elders encouraged Bob, who had been a passive participant, to pray over his wife and command the enemy to leave. He prayed, without displaying a lot of confidence, but we agreed with him. We sensed the darkness recede abruptly and a fresh freedom in Judy. Physically exhausted but at peace, she felt it had left.

Though others weren't so sure, we agreed we had done as much as feasible that night. We told Bob that if the demon exerted itself again, to call us but also to lay his hands on her and command it to leave. Bob and Judy actually left for home with joy on their faces.

The next three days were the best they had ever known together. She was so free and full of joy that Bob was astounded.

For a brief time, one morning the demon took hold again. When they phoned me, I instructed Bob to pray for Judy and tell it to leave. After what he described as a beautiful time of prayer, it left-for good. A few days later another elder and I met with Judy to verify her freedom.

Disengagement

We now moved into a new stage of ministry, the aftermath of war, bringing life back to the scorched earth. I would like to glowingly report that Judy's joy and bliss continued for months, but it didn't. Within two weeks she found herself in despair. The bondage had returned, she thought.

When I met with her and Bob, I learned that the insecurities and fears had resurfaced, provoking a number of marital spats. Nevertheless, as we explored them, even Judy could see the difference between her current weakness and her former bondage.

Before, darkness would overtake her, causing her to lash out-against her own will. Now, while facing fears she did not know how to handle, she retained control of her soul.

We have since learned that's common with someone held captive for so many years. The area formerly occupied by the enemy resembles a scarred battlefield. Though the enemy had departed, Judy's insecurities still needed healing. It took at least a year, through counseling with me and the friendship of some of our elders, to teach her how to submit her fears to Jesus and find freedom by trusting him. Many times she wanted to quit, but she stayed with it.

Not long ago I baptized Judy in a backyard pool, something she had previously resisted, unsure whether she could live up to the commitment. Now Judy knows what it means to follow Jesus and is doing it faithfully. With a casual manner and a joyful spirit that gives no hint of the battle endured, she is a consistent, contributing member of our fellowship.

We have no desire to be known as a congregation that specializes in deliverance ministry. We're just committed to seeing people find freedom in the Lord Jesus. If spiritual powers are preventing that, we'll deal with them. It's just part of the example Jesus left us. And when we find people tormented with evil spirits, how can we do anything else?

Copyright © 1991 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

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