PROLOGUE - The Calling
November 4, 2005. Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene.
It was already past 2PM in the afternoon when Father Eli walked briskly towards the office of Bishop Genaro L. Manalang, the bishop residing in the Basilica Menor del Nazareno Negro (1). His body drenched in sweat revealed how much anxiety was building up inside him at the time.
"I urgently need the bishop's help right now," in state of panic he thought.
He rubbed his sweaty palms together before closing them into fists, pumping himself up. He knew the bishop has always been busy with matters of managing this historical minor basilica. But he could not bring himself to delay the issue any longer. With strengthened resolve, he put down his left fist on the side while the other goes knocking on the dark wooden door of the bishop's office.
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It was high noon at the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene. Its interior was crowded by hundreds of people coming daily, especially the devotees of the Black Nazarene. At the left most corner of the church near the side entrance sits a row of confession boxes, with red light bulbs overhead to indicate if someone is inside.
Fr. Eli, in his alb and purple stole (2), entered into one of those cramped boxes which light was off. Upon entering, the light bulb above the door of his box went on automatically. Now that's the box meant for confessors or priest presiders. Adjacent to it is a box-shaped cubicle for those who wish to make confessions. Similarly, its light goes on whenever someone occupies it.
As usual, long queues can be found outside each cubicle. Good thing there were marshals outside to keep the lines in order. It was another tiring day for Fr. Eli inside this busy church. He finished hearing confessions for more than 10 people today before his shift ends in the afternoon.
"And here they thought being a priest is easy," the young priest said to himself with a sigh while walking out of the confession box and into the western exit which connects the church to a convent.
Dragging his body towards the lobby of the convent with a few guards, he seated quietly on one of the benches. In a daze, he watched as myriads of people pass by the basilica when a young man in his mid-20s approached and stood in front of him. He was bulky, almost six feet tall yet lumbering towards him. He seemed to look at him with pleading eyes… but within those dark eyes, Fr. Eli found himself tremble in fear. He felt as if he was being stared at by something non-human. There was fear, agitation, tension … and a hint of madness.
"Father, I-I just made a confession to you just now. F-father, I-I need your help. I-I-I feel like… I feel I'm going mad!"
The young priest was startled as he wasn't sure how this guy knew for certain that he was the one who heard his confession. Inside those cubicles, the priest and the person confessing cannot see each other face to face. They can only hear each other through the tiny holes punched on the wall connecting the two boxes. Recognizing his voice, Fr. Eli knew this guy was telling the truth… to his horror. He was instantly approached and recognized despite not hearing his voice. Moreover, he was not the only priest in the lobby.
How?
Why?
"And why me?" is what he thought. But contrary to his weary heart, he gave off a gentle fatherly smile.
"How can I help you, son?"
Oh, what dilemma! He was still so young but he has to call someone of almost the same age as 'son' and this 'son' was even taller than him. He can almost feel his eyelids twitch.
"F-father, I d-d-don't know why. I-I was trying to stop myself… b-b-b-but when I was inside the confessional, I was c-constantly being overwhelmed by the desire to strangle you!" the young man hesitatingly admit while hugging his arms, shaking.
"What the heck!?" Fr. Eli screamed internally, while gulping a mouthful of saliva, and gave smile.
"Yes. Just keep calm and smile, Eli. Hang in there. You know some martial arts moves since your younger days and surely he won't just run amok while in public, right?"
"I-I-I don't know what has gotten to me back then. B-b-but I-I …
"…I still do right now!"
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It's now 2:45PM Fr. Eli was pacing back and forth, waiting. Every 30 seconds of waiting, his anxiety would get the better of him, making him knock the door three times more. He would then straighten himself but still find no response even after 10 seconds.
He left the young man inside an empty Consultation Room at the second floor locked up alone. When the guy pleaded for an exorcism to be done to him, boy oh boy, he really wished he can grow wings like those angels from the heavens up high. Exorcism was something he only learned about from his childhood but never tried doing in his entire life! Retreat! He hurriedly went off his way, secure the door, or else, he's done for. He bit his handkerchief bitterly, whining like a kicked out puppy.
It was a good thing there was Bishop Manalang he could turn to at times like this. From what he learned, while not all priests are called to become exorcists, bishops, with the fullness of priesthood, are all given authority by the Church to conduct an exorcism.
"The bishop must be very busy" was what he thought at first until he tried to observe the light which seemed to peek from underneath the door. Though he could hear the light footsteps of Bishop Manalang inside, it didn't show any signs of approaching the door. There was also no response to his call… as if his voice was blocked from inside.
"Hear me, Jesus … Hide me in thy wounds that I may never leave thy side…
"From all the evil that surrounds me defend me…
"And when the call of death arrives…"
"Death? Dead? Am I going to be dead? I am still sooooo young," Fr. Eli's internally crying now while silently singing to stop himself from shaking silly.
He's been standing in front of the office for 10 minutes without a single response from the bishop and the door was locked too! It was then that he realized … something supernatural is hindering him from seeking help.
He was racking his brain as thorough as he could while trying to calm his nerves. Under circumstances when he can't ask for help, what can he do?
He did remember reading a lot of books about the Rites of Exorcism. In fact, there were dozens of books, films and other resources inside his room about them. From childhood, young Eli had always been a sucker for occultism and the paranormal. He was just too afraid to get too deep into them as it almost endangered him, his brother and his cousin back then. But if there was one thing he learned from God, it was that everything He allows to happen has its purpose.
"My Lord, should I take this as Your sign… that I am ready for this?"
[There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair in the heavens. – Ecclesiates 3:1]
"What if this is just my eighth-grade syndrome acting up? That's so embarrassing! I am not some superhero here… I am just a man…"
[The exorcist is the centerpiece of every exorcism… on him depends everything. He has nothing personal to gain. But in each exorcism he risks literally everything that he values.]
He recalled the title of a book he once read perfectly describing the young man's situation – Hostage to the Devil. As he knew he was a helpless hostage to the Devil, the young man ran to him for help.
"What do I do? My Lord, what should I do?"
[Come to Me, all you who are labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. – Matthew 11:28]
Inspiration kept welling from within Fr. Eli. That's right, he should just lay this burden upon the Lord. He should have just entrusted this battle to God and he was just there to represent Him. It was then he knew he was ready. Perhaps … he just had to believe that God has already made him ready for this day. He became a priest knowing his calling, one which he cannot back out from... to serve God and His people in times of need.
"As you wish, my Lord, it's time to give this boy rest from his possessor …"
He ran up to his room on the third floor and picked up the Leonine Exorcism (3), including all the objects he needed to start up an exorcism. He realized how much everything he needed right now seemed to be setup like loaded firearms before heading for war: weapons, knowledge, courage and faith. It was exactly 3PM. He kissed his crucifix and silently said his prayers as he's about to head to a spiritual battle.
"…Oh blood and water, which flowed out from the heart of Jesus, as the fountain of mercy for us…
"I trust in You…" (4)
His footsteps echoed across the hallway until he made a turn on one closed door, each step as resounding as the prayers of his heart, dispelling every bit of fear bringing him peace and confidence.
"The battle is Yours, O God," he quietly whispered as he made a pause before the door.
A silent twist of the knob followed the sound of keys unlocking the door. Behind it was a young man seated with eyes closed as if in prayer. He could feel no shivering despite the strong blow of cold air from the air conditioned room. Instead, his body was drench in sweat. It was until he heard sounds of moving inside the room when his eyes opened, forming crescents upon seeing the figure of the young priest.
"I was waiting for you… I knew you'd come back."
Upon entering the room, the door behind his back closed on its own despite the absence of the wind.
A click was all that was heard from that silent hallway until another was heard after the sunset.
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(1) Basilica Menor del Nazareno Negro is a Spanish term for "Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene"
(2) Alb is a common vestment used both by clerics and laypersons, typically white. Stole is usually worn over it as single long piece of cloth that is draped over the shoulder. These two are commonly worn by priests during Mass.
(3) Also known as Pope Leo XIII's "Exorcism Against Satan and the Fallen Angels" of 1890, a simpler exorcism prayer which can be used as a diagnostic test of possession.
(4) This was taken from "3 O'Clock Prayer to the Divine Mercy". This is often prayed in the Philippines at exactly 3 o'clock, also known as the hour of Divine Mercy – the hour of Jesus Christ's death on the cross.