Now, the reason I’m reliving this nightmare with you is because today’s reading about Jesus and the demon reminds me of a particular interaction I had with Mister Van Crackle. You see, being universally scorned by my peers and employers had one advantage: I had nothing to lose. So. I wrote Mister Van Crackle a letter listing my greivences and had it notarized. Of course, I never heard back from him. He didn’t fire me or stiff my tables. He just acted as though I’d never written the letter at all. Which was infuriating! So I sent a copy to the president of the Club Corporation of America, who, perhaps because even at that level, I was known mediocre employee, also ignored it. I decided, then, to rewrite the entire letter, and send it certified mail to the board of directors.
I may be brash, but I’m not an idiot. I had enough good sense, even then, to run it by my father first. Who said, and I quote: “Mister Van Crackle knows you’re unhappy, right? Presumably the president of the corporation knows this as well. Am I right? Both have chosen ignor you, right? Well, then. Listen carefully: There’s a fine line between being assertive, and being an ass. You are about to cross that line.” When I continued to protest, he said, and again I quote: “He won. You lost. Get over it. Get on with your life.”
For the first time in months, I, by my own volition, shut my mouth. And with that, the demon of discontent left me. I’m reminded of a quote from Saint Augustine: “It was not until I ceded the victory to Satan, that My Lord was able to win the victory on my behalf. For what am I to myself without You, but a guide to my own downfall?”
A few weeks later, I quit my job, and went to wait tables at Augustino’s (which name I need not change because I loved it there). Augustino Gabriele (whose name I won’t change because I love him too) had thought of an ingenious way of building comradery among his employees: about half-way through the night, he would steel $10 from the tips of every waiter in the house, put it in an envelope, and then give that envelope to the person on staff that we voted most helpful. I remember accusing a busboy of helping me just so he could get the envelope. All he did was smile at me and say, “Heck, yeah I want that envelop.” And that night, he got it.
A certain brother asked Saint Pambo of the Desert: Please help me! The devil is preventing me from loving my neighbor!
The elder said in reply: “Oh shut your mouth. Why don’t you just admit that you don’t want to be merciful? God said long ago: I have given you power over all the forces of the enemy? Do you think He’s a liar? Now go stamp down that evil spirit yourself!”
What these stories have in common is that same command that Jesus gives the devil in our gospel today: Be quiet. Every exorcism begins with that simple command: “Shut your mouth.”
Oh, that today you would hear his voice:
"Harden not your hearts as at Meribah,
as in the day of Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tempted me;
they tested me though they had seen my works."
“Brothers and sisters: I should like you to be free of anxieties,” says Saint Paul. But you and I know that you won’t be, so instead, I’ll repeat—and I’ll repeat again—the words that Jesus proclaimed in the presence of the man with the unclean spirit: “Be quiet.” When you are overwhelmed by anger or lust or frustration or despair, when the demons of concupiscence and resentment gain the upper hand; when Satan himself seems to have definitively won the day, and everyone around you has surrendered to his lies…Be (pause) quiet.” Admit you are powerless. Admit that you lost. Cede the victory so that Christ, who alone speaks with authority, can step in.
A clean heart create for me, O God, a steadfast spirit renew within me. Give me back the joy of your salvation, and a willing spirit sustain in me. THEN, O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
