Accusations in the Dark
Halloween weekend in Athens, Ohio is a notoriously wild time. Young college-aged women and men from all over the state make a yearly pilgrimage to the southeastern corner of the state, bolstering the local young adult population by thousands with one goal in mind - to party. Rain or shine, waning global health crisis or not - like birds flying south or trout swimming upstream - nothing can deter these party-goers from reaching their destination...well, almost nothing.
As the last remaining bits of light slowly faded into nighttime, throngs of people wearing all sorts of costumes began to line the sidewalks either heading uptown to the bars or back down the hill to one of the many house parties. At the intersection of all revelry stands St. Paul Catholic Church. This battle-worn building sees firsthand what kind of evening people had as her lawn is often littered with red cups and beer cans and her walls sometimes find themselves covered with vomit. It was in this church that a small group of students gave God the space to show up in people’s lives in an incredibly powerful way.
After finishing our novena and asking for the intercession of the saints, we opened the church doors at 9 pm and would not close them until midnight. The whole evening became an exercise in vulnerability. Leaving the church doors open, inviting people at various stages of inebriation to come into our church and light a candle, facing the very real possibility of rejection - especially on a weekend where the last place people would expect to find themselves would be a church.
It’s all so risky. It’s all so messy. But in the midst of all of this we find love.
Around 500 people took us up on our offer to come inside of our little church and light a candle. While the number was an enormous blessing, seeing lives transformed by an encounter with the Eucharistic Christ is where the true treasure is found. I witnessed faces shift from indifference to reverence, men and women’s eyes filled with tears, and many would-be party-goers ended up sitting in our pews from a few minutes to over an hour as, maybe for the first time, they had a genuine encounter with Love.
I could and would love to continue reflecting on this powerful night of grace and the many people we saw, but I wanted to take a moment to explore the experiences of those we didn’t see. Through an anonymous region-based social media app, we could gain some insights into how our event was perceived. Some spoke favorably, others expressed a sense of bewilderment, but one comment really stood out to me as an example of where many hearts may find themselves today.
One comment said, “I can’t believe on Halloween weekend that priests would stand outside of their church and tell us how big of sinners we are.”
This comment was so interesting to me because, as one of those priests, I know that this is simply not true. This person could have simply been lying or perhaps using this as an opportunity to attack an institution that has caused them pain. Whatever the motive, this person’s experience was not rooted in reality; yet, the distorted sense of self and perception of events that night speaks volumes of how easily our hearts can be manipulated and conditioned to see every moment of grace as a moment of accusation.
In the twelfth chapter of the Book of Revelation, we are given an incredibly dramatic scene with St. Michael, the dragon, and a woman giving birth. While the book uses a lot of symbolic language, it is clear that the dragon (Satan) also bears the name of “the accuser.”
“And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, ‘Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God.’” (Revelation 12:10)
When we think of Satan, we may only think of him as a temptor; but, if we want to understand the depths of how we are tempted, we also have to understand the devil’s role as accuser.
Using language that sounds somewhat like a courtroom, this chapter from Revelation shows us a judge (God), witnesses (the saints), our defense (the Lamb), and the prosecution/accuser (Satan).
The prosecution’s job is to show how the defendant is guilty. The accuser points his finger in our direction and all that he can see is what’s wrong with us. Satan’s greatest victory is when he gets us to believe this as well - that there is no hope of redemption, that we are only our weakest moments, and that all of this makes us completely unlovable.
The devil wants to accuse us “day and night before our God.” He is relentless. He wants us to be miserable and one of the easiest ways to do that is to remind us of everything we’ve done wrong. This is why I don’t think that the commenter was necessarily lying, but it is very possible that this person has felt that dark and odious voice accusing them for so long, that any visible sign of God’s love feels more like toruture that a healing balm. In this case, it was the sight of priests. For others, it may be Christian music or seeing a rosary in a car window. Regardless of what that reminder of God may be, as those trying to live in His love, this shows us that the behavior of others towards Christians isn’t necessarily coming from a place of malice, but instead from a place of pain.
Having an understanding of how the devil works - especially as an accuser - should give us some insight as to how to respond to those who seem threatening to our faith. Instead of just chalking everything up to being “persecuted,” when we are attacked by someone for our beliefs, it is good to keep in mind that that person may be suffering from the constant affliction of the accuser. Recognizing this reality will not only help us be more patient with overly aggressive people, but also give us the motivation and desire to really walk with them away from the place of constant guilt and towards the freedom of living in the truth of Christ’s love.
As the Halloween weekend continued on in Athens, Ohio, I am certain that lives were changed. We honestly may never see anyone that came into our church that night again, but the encounter they had with Christ will stay with them. No matter the mess. no matter the risk. I will say again and again - it’s worth it.