This Week Only: The High Lord Exorcist, Sceva and His Seven Sons

    “Come one, come all” shouted the carnival style barker with a pencil thin mustache and a straw boater hat, “Roll up! Roll up for the magical, mystical exorcism show starring the High Lord Exorcist known throughout the Levant and all points east as the Chief Priest, Sceva and his Seven Sons! This week only! See them today because they won’t be here long! Lay down a fin and see the show. Lay down a sawbuck and we’ll let you participate in the show.” Crowds thronged in the narrow Ephesian streets to see the world-famous exorcists. They clamored and shouted, screaming out the name “Sceva! Sceva! Sceva!” over and over again in their enthusiasm and excitement.

    Careful investigation may have revealed that Sceva was not actually related to the priest Zadok, or a member of any of the priestly families and that he had never actually presided over any sacrifice. He may have claimed high rank as a priest of God, but he’d never served in the Temple in Jerusalem. That the seven young men who assisted him in the exorcisms were his sons was also a dubious proposition. They probably weren’t even brothers.

    But the throngs of people screaming out the name “Sceva!” couldn’t care less. They were thrilled by his supernatural performances in the market square and wanted more of them. They came every day to see Sceva and his sons drive out all demons and astral spirits, all the kosmokratores of the heavenly spheres who were responsible for ailments, afflictions and physical maladies of every kind.

    “The magical, mystical exorcism revue is about to begin!” the street-corner barker called out to the passing crowds. The citizens of Ephesus put down their coin, cash on the barrel, to see the show. They came to feel the exhilaration of being in the presence of Kuru demons – the demons responsible for cannibalistic brain disease. They came for the thrill of seeing Astatine spirits, rare and radioactive, spirits who do not want to exist and are usually vaporized by their own heat, a half-life measured in hours. And yet, in that time, they can do significant damage.

    “Step up to witness superhuman marvels beyond belief!” the barker called, and the crowds came to see the show.

    The Lord once, in the primordial past when waters still covered the entirety of the earth, split the sea and smashed the heads of dragons in the waters, those extraordinary, uncanny beasts from the deep, dragons of no taxonomy, no classification, no order, no kingdom except the kingdom of darkness. But the Jews of Ephesus plunked down their coins to watch the itinerant exorcist Sceva and his seven spangled and sequined sons as they displaced demons with a colorful display of vomited gall.

    The Sons of Sceva called for a volunteer from the audience, someone troubled by a demonic presence. And a bandy-legged old man raised his hand. “I am possessed by an unclean spirit,” he said. Then, waving their mystagogic amulets – amulets containing secret inscriptions and sealed with wax – the seven sons of Sceva began the exorcism ritual as their nominal father looked on.

    They spoke in turns, invoking the sacred phrases:

    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Uriel, the power of light, regent of the sun.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Raphael, the power of health, and binder of desert demons.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Raguel, bringer of fire and harmony.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Samael, angel of venom and poison.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Michael, the great prince of heaven.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Gabriel, the power of strength and player of cool jazz.”
    “I adjure you by the name of the angel Phanuel, the face of God, sustainer of hope and health.”

    And then all held their amulets aloft and, with a choreographed little dance shouted in unison, “Gathered together the forces of heaven, numbering seven, archangels forever. Amen!” And the audience cheered.

    Then, after quieting the crowd again, the old man Sceva himself spoke in a ventriloquist voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once:

    “Great is the ineffable name of the Lord, by the God of the Hebrews, by the unerring knowledge of all that exists. I adjure you by the maker of heaven and earth, to smite you with a mighty blow, to destroy you by the angel of his fierce wrath. I cast out every incubus of natural disease. I cast out all anguipede inversions of the sacred name – even if they be embodied as a man with a rooster’s head and snakes for legs. I cast out ravaging angels, Lilith demons, and bastard spirits. Owls and weaving spiders come not here. I cast out polluted blood, corrupted bile - be it yellow or be it black - and all congested phlegm. Your horns are horns of dust. Your stones are soft. Your eyes are weak. The light that shines from the sun will not find you. To condemn you to lowest Hades, to lie in darkness.”

    The seven sons formed a circle around the bandy-legged old man and began their chant.

    “By the name of Jesus of Nazareth and the name of his servant Paul…”

    But this is as far as they got before the demon within the man interrupted in a voice that rattled shingles from the roofs of nearby buildings. “Jesus I recognize, yes. Yes. Jesus I recognize, and Paul I know. Yes. Yes. Paul I know. But you? Who the hell are you lot?”

    The spindly little man leapt to his feet and slashed out with his untrimmed nails – gashing their faces and gouging their eyes. He grabbed the nearest one while swiftly ramming his knee into his groin. He bashed his elbow into the nose of one of the boys. Blood sprayed.

    The sons of Sceva fled the scene screaming, following after their father who’d begun running as soon as the demon began to speak. “I don’t know you!” the demonized man shouted in a voice louder and deeper than possible with human vocal cords. “I don’t know you!” He laughed after them as they ran away with their matching outfits in tatters. “I don’t know you!”