At the Threshold of a Mystery: An Orthodox Priest at Rome’s School of Exorcism

An Encounter With Grace

What was I doing in Rome? When I landed in the Eternal City on a warm Sunday in May of 2025, I was apprehensive and second guessing myself. I had come for the Exorcism and Deliverance class sponsored by the Ateneo Pontificio Regina Apostolorum (APRA). While I was excited for the opportunity, I was also nervous, wondering how I might be received as a Greek Orthodox priest from the United States. In addition to being worn down by the travel, I was upset about missing some important family events that week. After the bumpy—speedy—ride to my hotel from Fiumicino Airport, I dropped my baggage at the concierge and decided to take a walk while my room was readied. It turned out this was a good decision.

My eyes were glued to Google Maps as I headed out in the general direction of Saint Peter’s Square, regretting my dress shoes and quickly weakening phone charge. While surrounded by gorgeous churches, lively cafes, and charming cobblestone streets, my dour mood kept me from taking much note. Then, something shifted. I gradually became aware that the already crowded sidewalks were swelling with more and more people. Excited chatter seemed to be coming from every street corner. To avoid the congestion, I cut down an alleyway, but it was blocked off by a few stern-looking police officers: I had no choice but to go with the flow. Somewhere, there was also a voice broadcasting. What was going on—some sort of political rally? As I continued to wander and wonder, government vehicles raced by, sirens blaring in European “hi/lo” fashion. Annoyed at all the fuss, I finally maneuvered myself into the portico of a little market to plan my return route back to the hotel.

That is when I finally realized what was going on. Peeking around a pillar at the now unmoving crowds, I saw the people were all looking in the same direction, rapt. A group of twenty-somethings were on their tiptoes trying to see; a little girl was on her father’s shoulders waving frantically at something. Before them—and me—about 100 yards ahead was Saint Peter’s Square, and the man speaking was the newly elected Pope Leo XIV. My heart swelled. I watched and listened with the help of the giant video monitor far ahead on the square; though I could not understand a word, I knew it was a message of love and compassion. The expressions on people’s faces and their joyous waves and shouts to “il Papa” attested to this. Ashamed of my attitude leading up to this moment, I finally allowed myself to listen and simply be in the moment.

The warmth of this Sunday encounter stayed with me throughout the week and, to my surprise, was manifest during the class on Exorcism and Deliverance. What I thought would essentially be an academic affair, surrounding protocols and directives, was something completely different. While there was much learned about process, medical issues, and history, the course truly revolved around Christ’s love and compassion in the face of human suffering. This was about God and his people. Along with valuable new information and pastoral tools, I came home from Rome with renewed hope in what can happen when people of different faith traditions listen to one another with a common purpose: the healing and liberation of God’s people.

A Journey of Inquiry and Faith

I live in the Boston area, and Rome may seem like quite a distance to travel for a class. But the topic of possession and exorcism has long fascinated me as a priest and researcher. Throughout my years of seminary I read as much as I could on these topics and then focused my doctoral work at Emory University on the issue of exorcism in the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America. How were we to make sense of this ancient, neglected practice in the modern Church? While few Orthodox clergy have ever led an exorcism, the prayers remain a part of the Church’s Great Book of Needs (Great Euchologion; Ευχολόγιον το Μέγα) and connect us to the mystery of Christ’s compassion and ultimate victory over evil.

Following my doctoral work, I contemplated the next steps in my research. My awareness of the Exorcism and Deliverance course sprang from a pop culture source: I had read Matt Baglio’s The Rite and even seen the related movie. A friend also sent me a New York Times article about the course, a rather superficial treatment but intriguing. Over the next several months, I read the course description online, conferred with some Catholic friends, and began to explore the possibility of attending. Though the class is designed for Roman Catholic clergy, members of other denominations are also considered. I knew there would be much to learn from striving and sharing alongside my Catholic brethren, and the experience would help triangulate my research. Thus, I went ahead with the application process, secured the necessary documentation, and I was accepted.

As I made notes in preparation for the class, my areas of focus were those explored in my doctoral project. First was hierarchical permission and guidance. While the rubrics of the Orthodox Christian prayers of exorcism require the permission of a hierarch, very few hierarchs are familiar with this unique ministry and rarely speak of it; in addition, most clergy either do not dare or simply do not bother to approach their hierarchs about exorcism. Many well-meaning priests just do what they think is correct and remain on their own. In related manner, guidance and training within the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese were of concern. There is no official training available at the local or Archdiocesan level (certainly nothing like my class in Rome), and there are very few clergy and lay people who might be qualified to offer it. This situation leaves clergy at a loss for how to proceed with an exorcism, with no indication of which prayers should be read, in what manner, and according to circumstance or context. Too much is left to chance.

Concerns about mental health and medical factors were also important. The Archdiocese has no examination protocols for exorcism inquiries; there are no directives for conducting investigations into medical or mental health history. Once again, clergy are likely to do what they think is correct and compassionate. Upon interview, a parishioner may just seem to need a physician and be dismissed; conversely, the priest may too quickly opt for the exorcism prayers, which are dramatic in content and form, potentially causing agitation in someone with medical or psychological issues. The intricate relationships between possible spiritual ailments and psychological and medical pathologies deserve much more attention than they receive. Seeking to do good, Orthodox clergy can inadvertently do great damage.

In addition to a host of questions about cultural and occult phenomena, clergy fitness was also a consideration. In the Orthodox Church, there is no formal order of exorcist. Every priest is an exorcist, yet few priests know what to do in an exorcism. One Greek Orthodox priest I interviewed some years ago suggested that perhaps not every priest was fit for this ministry; he proposed that we “leave the surgery to the surgeon.” Yet he also stressed the importance of Christ’s exorcisms and other things that we might not understand about his ministry.[1] Was it wise or even responsible for clergy to avoid this mystery of the faith?

With these questions and concerns in mind, I appeared at the threshold of the beautiful APRA lecture hall. I wondered if I would find the answers I sought—or at least some of them. My questions and points of research were mostly aimed at technical issues, liturgical and pastoral barriers to exorcism in the Orthodox Church. Was I missing something? Perhaps the answer would be discovered in this class. In my heart, I believed that in the company of my Catholic brethren my perspective would become more complete and the puzzle pieces would come together.

Engaging the Mystery of Healing

I was a little overwhelmed on day one of the seminar, but the staff was friendly, and I quickly met a friendly Methodist pastor from Ohio, Stu, who became my new best friend. As we engaged our cohort, it was always exciting to meet someone who spoke English—but making friends goes beyond words: cheerful smiles and goodwill abounded. Observing my classmates during registration, meals, and breaks, it was impressive to see the diversity of clergy and lay leaders. There were brothers and sisters from a host of monastic backgrounds and orders; I enjoyed seeing them laugh and chat. After all, though we were there with specific academic and professional concerns, we were also there to discover new friendships in the context of faith. There were counselors, psychiatrists, and physicians; we heard from historians, professors, administrators, and dedicated faithful who lead deliverance ministries in parishes throughout the world. Of course, there were the exorcists: priests and hierarchs from Italy and beyond, many of whom were colleagues of the late Fr. Gabriel Amorth. They led the presentations with compassion, dignity, and a strong sense of community in Christ.

This sense of community was largely framed in daily worship, at the beautiful campus church stewarded by the Legionnaires of Christ. For the first time I witnessed a Mass in Latin, and one of the fathers mentioned he did a “little singing” at Mass, thinking my Orthodox brain might appreciate that (he was correct). I was moved by how many of the participant clergy liturgized, received Holy Communion, and otherwise engaged the services. I thought, quite a bit, about the connection between how we pray, how we think, and what we do about what we believe. During the services we prayed for the life of the world and celebrated the life-saving mission of Jesus Christ. The Cross of our Lord was connected to the crosses we bear; Christ was carrying us in our suffering, and our suffering was redeemed and transfigured by the Cross. In our seminars, we applied these spiritual beliefs and commitments to the plight of those who suffer with unconventional spiritual issues. Without this grounding in faith, the rest of our efforts and strivings would prove ineffective.

Within the seminars, many of my research questions and concerns about the ministry of exorcism were addressed, and much more was garnered. For example, the presenters highlighted the pivotal role of the hierarchy concerning exorcism: only priests specifically authorized by their bishop may lead the Church’s official liturgical ministry of major (or solemn) exorcism.[2] As mentioned earlier, while there is no specific order of exorcist in the Orthodox Church, the sparse exorcism rubrics of the Great Book of Needs do clearly state that clergy must have the express permission of the bishop to perform the service.[3] Thus there is a mutual sense of dependence on the authority of the local bishop. Further, it is important to note that the concepts of authority and obedience, for both Orthodox and Catholics, are not about dominance; they are instead about pursuing God’s will in mutual humility and respect. Clergy are the spiritual children of their hierarchs, as their parishioners are under the loving care of clergy. The Orthodox refer to this as “τάξις,” a sense of liturgical and spiritual order for the sake of the Church’s life-saving mission. In addition, the existence of this seminar itself spoke to the importance of guidance and training. Here was an incredibly organized group of faithful people, teaching, training, and learning together, all with the aim of bearing wisdom and healthy practices back home to their respective pastoral contexts. I appreciated the attention to organization and protocol; I was awed and moved at the pastoral demands on Catholic clergy. Exorcism is not a “one-off” ministry. Catholic exorcists walk with their people long term, encouraging a life in the Church and participation in the Sacraments. As with the Orthodox Church, exorcism is not only a liturgical event but a situation under the umbrella of ongoing pastoral care.

Moreover, I was relieved to hear a great deal about what have been termed the three “lenses” for understanding spiritual ailments in therapy: the spiritual, psychological, and medical.[4] We enjoyed the presentations of several medical professionals, who urged us to adopt healthy practices of investigation and pastoral care, giving attention to the symptoms of various medical pathologies. We were even referred to available questionnaire templates designed for the investigation process. It was not enough just to assert the importance of care and responsibility; we were given the very tools to enact our commitments. I found my instincts and concerns on this level were shared: many presenters warning us about the danger of seeing only spiritual ailments where there may be something more complex. The vivid, truly heart-wrenching narratives and case files shared by some exorcists and physicians reminded us of how important it was to be thorough. Further, it was important to realize it is not always a question of “either/or”—but, instead, the point of intersection between various pathologies and phenomena.

We might consider, for example, the hypothetical scenario of a person complaining to a priest of frightening experiences, such as hearing voices, seeing things that should not be there, or obsessing about certain ideas. What if the priest never bothered to explore the person’s medical records, home life, or family history? Treating the afflicted person on a solely spiritual level could have catastrophic psychological and medical consequences. We may be doing the person a great disservice and, while trying to help, exacerbate the existing issue and negatively affect the person’s general wellbeing.

My questions about clergy fitness were certainly engaged as well. The Catholic practices surrounding the order of exorcists and obedience were explored in depth throughout the class, and this resonated, reminding me of the “surgical” metaphor mentioned earlier. Within the Orthodox Church, it seems a hefty burden for every priest to be charged with the ministry of exorcism, though not all of us may be fit for this ministry. As one of the presenters reminded, exorcists not only need to exhibit high standards of piety and grace but also need to be ready—and always ready.[5] When the bishop calls, it is time for faithful, courageous action.

In terms of spiritual service outside the role of clergy, I was intrigued to learn about the Catholic Church’s deliverance ministry, to which there is no official counterpart in Orthodoxy. Deliverance ministry represents a kind of private prayer that may be engaged by lay people with pastoral oversight. For example, those gathered may offer prayers for healing and intercession, proclaim scripture, and renounce sin. It is vital not to confuse deliverance ministry with the official liturgical rite of exorcism, which is a juridical and liturgical act of the Church under the auspices of the local bishop. Further, the Church emphasizes the indispensable role of clergy in the ongoing liturgical and pastoral care of those who suffer with unconventional spiritual ailments, from the least to most dramatic situations.[6] Deliverance ministry is never a replacement for exorcism or the care of a priest. However, under the auspices of the local bishop and with discernment, deliverance ministry can provide space for impactful prayer, mutual hope, and vibrant Christian fellowship.

This part of the discourse also provided an occasion for me to learn about the development of the Rite of Exorcism within the Catholic Church, from the earliest codices to the current version within the Roman Ritual. The rite is highly systematized with voluminous rubrics, directing the priest according to circumstances and content, all in coordination with Canon Law.[7] The Great Euchologion holds the four exorcisms of Chrysostom and three of Basil (along with some minor prayers against evil), yet the Orthodox Church never developed a systematic framework of clarification to house them. There are other exorcism manuscripts, spanning various Orthodox jurisdictions, but those texts also offer little help in terms of guidance. While the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese certainly needs to clarify the protocols surrounding the ministry within the life of the Church, the seminar offered an encouraging affirmation that exorcism within both churches is driven by the same purpose: the healing of God’s people. Over the centuries, pastoral approaches, manners of systematization, and juridical structure have developed differently, yet the heart of the exorcism ministry remains the same within both great houses of faith.

The possible connection between occult practices—including wildly popular Pagan practices—and the danger of demonic activity was also addressed within the presentation. In fact, I could barely take notes fast enough as clergy and medical professionals, along with an anthropologist and law enforcement personnel, outlined the myriad unconventional religions, cults, and organizations functioning in Rome and throughout the world. While some, such as Wicca, are generally benign, the presenters revealed many groups as dedicated to evil not only in spirit but in devastating practice, including Theta Noir (a kind of AI cult) and the ghastly 764 Network (linked to child pornography).[8] We were warned against taking these threats lightly and downplaying the problem of superstition, lest we expel the evil one from our house of faith only to discover “the devil has re-entered . . . through the window.[9] Evil thrives in our complacency.

This discussion about the insidious progression of evil in our lives made me recall how M. Scott Peck, a psychiatrist experienced with possession cases, asserted that whatever possession is, it makes people “very bad, very dangerous.”[10] In the cases he explored in Glimpses of the Devil it is terrifying how subtle and seemingly innocuous the early stages of demonic influence seem to be. No one sees it coming. Root causes range from isolation and trauma to psychological problems left untended and dabbling with occult practices. While demonic attacks are not necessarily tied to personal issues or sin, for some the passions lead them away from the presence of God until they no longer recognize themselves—and in some cases, begin to take on the virtues of the devil. As we were reminded throughout the class, evil is everywhere, always at work. It is evident in our selfish actions and the lies we tell, manifest in the wicked aggression of nations, and indeed revealed in the assault on the image and likeness of God through possession.

Finally, there were the spiritual convictions of the seminar, where I discovered profound unity between Catholic and Orthodox tradition. During his opening remarks at the seminar, Fr. Jose Enrique Oyarzun echoed Saint Paul and insisted that whenever one member of the Church suffers, the entire Church suffers.[11] This was an elegant reminder of the deep mystery of Christ’s love. Wherever God’s people suffer, there is God’s merciful hand and there must we all be. To love God is to love his people, and we must act upon this love.

This commitment to meeting the suffering of God’s people with the healing grace of Christ is central to Catholic and Orthodox theology. The rescue mission of Christ—the Cross, the Tomb, the Resurrection, Ascension and glorious Second Coming—all point to the victory of the Lord over evil. Exorcism is a sign of this victory. As Saint Athanasius reasoned, exorcism would not even be possible had not Christ accomplished all for us.[12] Many presenters drove home the idea that when we lovingly engage the ministry of exorcism, we are enacting the ministry of our Lord; we not only signal the victory of Christ but also mystically participate in its unfolding. We are part of Christ’s mission, alongside the saints of the Church who contested with evil for the sake of God’s children. At the core of the seminar were the adjurations of Saint Paul to remember that love never fails and to do all things with love (1 Cor. 13:8; 16:14). 

Looking Forward: A Worthy Fight

Quite late on the last day of the class, most of us were grabbing a coffee when “tubular bells” (a musical short from The Exorcist) began to play on someone’s phone. After it was abruptly silenced, the last note echoing through the auditorium, everyone laughed. I think we all agreed that someone must reference the novel or film at some point—or maybe there was a need for some emotional release in light of this serious topic. But it also made me think about exorcism as a cultural phenomenon. Why are we so drawn to it and why is it so fascinating? Is it because we all love a good scare or feel drawn to the forbidden? Instead, I think it is because somewhere deep inside we recognize the need for healing and renewal. We face our own horrors, day in and day out; we fight the everyday battles for our souls, even for the soul of the world. Perhaps the books, movies, videos, and social media pieces we devour on the topic become a metaphor for our demons, helping us cope, process, and even contemplate questions of redemption and forgiveness in some way.

Ultimately, it is safe to say exorcism is everywhere and clearly not going anywhere— certainly not for the Orthodox and Catholic Churches. For within the teaching of both churches, the devil is no mere metaphor for our inner battles with temptation: evil is indeed the “presence of something dark, irrational and very real.”[13] The stark, painful, and frightening true-life stories related to us during the seminar attested to this. The murders in our streets, cruelty to the most vulnerable members of society, and blatant disregard for human suffering throughout the world also bear witness. Evil is personal, it is corporate, it is cosmic. The battle for the image and likeness of God within us is real and ongoing. Our souls, and indeed the soul of the world, are worth fighting for.

In my heart, the importance of this fight goes back to that crowdsourced audience with his Holiness last May. The Pope’s loving presence remains with me and informed everything I saw and experienced during my time in Rome. Now, it even influences the way I think of the mystery of healing within my own faith tradition. Yes, when one of us hurts, we all hurt, and the Lord is there. The world indeed has its horrors (just watch the news during these turbulent times), and we have ours. But we also have the rescue mission of our Lord and the opportunity for a personal relationship with him. None of us will be abandoned or are alone. As I move forward in my own research and pastoral duties, as I think about the meaning of my life as a priest, husband, and father, I will continue to hold these thoughts high. Wherever there are caring pastors and loving faithful, there is Christ and the mystery of his grace. Wherever people suffer, there is the healing touch of our Lord and the promise of the Resurrection.

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