Fellowship with demons

“Fools … trying to manipulate Satan” (“Slow Train,” by Bob Dylan, 1979).

After a strange but brief historical interlude known as the age of materialism, mankind is returning to that state more ordinary to our species—belief in the spirit world.

The book of Revelation, once sidelined by most as a weird genre for symbology aficionados, is looking pretty relevant suddenly. Its mapping of the spirit realm that lurks behind the veil of seen reality has this in common with today’s worldwide obsession with the devil: the idea that there’s more to life than what rationalism’s net can catch. It is the atheist who now looks passé.

Students of God’s Word ought not to be taken by surprise. We were told “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). We were taught “[our] enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). If we have been obtuse, it is because of a materialist hangover we still nurse.

The human race, which can “entertain angels unawares” (Hebrews 13:2), can also entertain demons unawares—to our own great harm if we are so foolish. Paul certainly took it seriously: “the things which the Gentiles sacrifice they sacrifice to demons and not to God, and I do not want you to have fellowship with demons” (1 Corinthians 10:20).

Fellowship with demons is exactly what the After School Satan club has in mind for your children. Their Satanic Temple website disdains faith, saying, “We prefer to give children an appreciation of the natural wonders surrounding them, not a fear of everlasting other-­worldly horrors.” Not to be outdone, the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis on Aug. 5 held a “family friendly” demon summoning event (your tax dollars at work) titled “Lilit the Empathetic Demon.”

In 2019 the Rio de Janeiro carnival paraded a massive float titled “O Salvador da Patria” (“The Savior of the Homeland”) dedicated to the goat Ioio. The 2016 Swiss Gotthard Tunnel opening, attended by European world leaders, featured a profane goat-man being worshipped and fed lambs, with a woman riding a beast and drunk on the blood of the saints completing the Revelation imagery. Dishonorable mentions for blasphemies go to the Molech spectacle in the 2022 Commonwealth Games in Birmingham, and the now depressingly ­regular Super Bowl and Grammy events.

A perverse generation is smitten with the devil, but what will they do in the end? The unsavory ape Shift and his sidekick Ginger the Cat think they have cleverly invented the god Tashlan as a means to manipulate the masses. But what they have done is inadvertently summoned the real god Tash. “Fools trying to manipulate Satan” find themselves the ones manipulated.

In seventh grade, on a lark I ventured into a fortuneteller’s tent at Rocky Point State Park, thinking not much of it. Decades later when I casually mentioned the childhood naughtiness to my husband, he had me stop and pray with him to break any ties I may have forged with demons.

The godly and the wicked in this present time dwell side by side in churches, towns, and neighborhoods. But at the end of time Jesus appears as Judge of all to separate them out, placing the sheep on his right and the goats on his left (Matthew 25:31-33). The goat parades and carnivals will not be laughing then.

The good thing in the nights grown darker is that light shines brighter for the contrast. While sons of Baphomet pour from the woodwork fast and furious, disciples of the Lamb are manifesting at unprecedented rates as well. And the whole creation, groaning with labor pains, “waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God” (Romans 8:19).