Chapter 13 Only Fools Believe Such Nonsense

17 A man out of the crowd answered, "Teacher, I brought my mute son, made speechless by a demon, to you."

The shell of my captured is lifeless. To my master’s satisfaction, I’ve used secrecy and subtlety and with a little bit of resolve, I've consumed him. I always snicker on the inside, because everyone should know my methods by now. But they don't.

In fact, you don't.

Now, you probably have some limited understanding of the time continuum, but limited is where I want you to stay, for my ways are then sealed in some ancient story, with frothing of the mouth and seizures and the mania of demonic possession. If it’s ancient to you, then perceived boundaries are drawn.

Allow me to let you in on a little secret, though: I know no boundaries. I know no time, for I don’t play by your rules.

Certainly you appreciate that I’m vile. I'm the lowest form of just about anything you can conceive of, and even then I'm much worse. Take a death row inmate—no, take every guilty, demented death row inmate—and the shame of their crimes and the cries of their victims are entertainment for me. I rejoice in their pain. In fact, I take full responsibility for each and every heinous act, for at their worst, I'm at my best.

I do report in regularly, for my master is obsessed with control and he won’t be denied access to my whereabouts and my efforts on his behalf. If I could rise up against him, I would; there is no loyalty in these ranks, only fear and some twisted duty arising out of it.

I summon him for our daily briefing. There’s no small talk, so I begin without delay. I take sick pleasure in the father's desperation:

18 "Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, grinds his teeth, and goes stiff as a board. I told your disciples, hoping they could deliver him, but they couldn't."

“Even his closet followers have failed in their attempts to be rid of me,” I inform my liege, with smug satisfaction.

“That’s because they’re idiots. Press on, and do not disappoint me.”

“I won’t. Have I ever?”

There’s no response because he knows. In the wake of his silence, I know he acknowledges my greatness.

I return to the task at hand, and it’s the same. It’s always the same. Then, now, whatever you think time is—I’m an occupier and a parasite. I will devour every last bit of goodness in you, well beyond your ridiculous hope for redemption. Even as you read this, I am bound and determined to de-rail your faith. I will cause you to doubt the resurrection, to see the folly of religion, church and biblical fairy tales.

Only fools believe such nonsense.

My genius is in all that you don’t acknowledge as my work, as I rise on the wake of each dawn to begin my pursuit of you, well before you can even embrace the promise of a new morning.

I am stress, and I weigh heavy on you. I attack you. I am the one who tells you over and over that you’re not capable of handling this life. Any of it.

I am distrust for your mate, your child, your boss and your closest confidant. They will betray you and I’m behind it all.

I am your addiction and I am constantly making a way for you to enter into temptation. I will make sure you fall, time and time again. There are limitations to grace and you have found them.

I am guilt, and I am shame.

I am pain, for you are worthless and everything eating at you right now is me, reminding you that you’ll never amount to anything. You are a failure. You are a statistic.

I am depression and disease. I will tear at your health and sense of well-being.

I am death, and I’m coming for you.

19 Jesus said, "What a generation! No sense of God! How many times do I have to go over these things? How much longer do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy here."

Go ahead. Read this story all you want. Preserve it away as history and I have won. Even now you will doubt its accuracy, for how could this really have happened? It’s not relevant.

20 They brought him. When the demon saw Jesus, it threw the boy into a seizure, causing him to writhe on the ground and foam at the mouth. 21 He asked the boy's father, "How long has this been going on?" 22 Many times it pitches him into fire or the river to do away with him. If you can do anything, do it. Have a heart and help us!"

Yes, I will pitch you into the fire of your gluttony. I will drown you in the river of apathy. Don’t beg for mercy for there is none to be given. Even now you say “if” because you can’t conceive of the rescue.

I am skepticism.

23 Jesus said, "If? There are no 'ifs' among believers. Anything can happen."

If only you did believe. But you don’t, for I’m still here, and I’m destroying you.

24 No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the father cried, "Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!" 25 Seeing that the crowd was forming fast, Jesus gave the vile spirit its marching orders: "Dumb and deaf spirit, I command you - Out of him, and stay out!"

And just like that, I am blinded. I obey him, and I cower, for how could I not? He is the Bright and Morning Star, and I am shadow. He is the Prince of Peace, and I am war. He is the Lamb, and I am slaughter.

He is love. And I am hate.

26 Screaming, and with much thrashing about, it left. The boy was pale as a corpse, so people started saying, "He's dead." 27 But Jesus, taking his hand, raised him. The boy stood up.

I am defeated.

28 After arriving back home, his disciples cornered Jesus and asked, "Why couldn't we throw the demon out?" 29 He answered, "There is no way to get rid of this kind of demon except by prayer." (Mark 9: 17-29, The Message)

I am silenced.