Dancing with the devil

By Phil Lawler ( bio - articles - email ) | Sep 06, 2024

As summer comes to an end, what offers more wholesome fun than the local agricultural fair? Bring the family. Wander through the exhibits of prize pumpkins and tomatoes. Sample the homemade baked goods. Let the kids ride the bumper cars and the ferris wheel. Watch the oxen pull. Listen to the bluegrass music. See the local witches dance.

Wait. Witches? At the local fair? Doing their dances on the midway near where the children buy cotton candy and take pony rides?

Yes, that’s what the program said. As we prepared to submit our sourdough bread and our honey to the judges, we learned that a group of witches would be dancing nearby. The organizers of the fair assured us that it would be a lighthearted show, all in fun—a bit spooky, maybe, but nothing “dark.” But the web site of these local witches included a reference to “Lord Lucifer.” Suddenly you realize that what is presented in fun is only a short step removed from something very, very dark.

As I write, on the day the local fair opens, I am still not sure what to expect. Are these “witches” just ordinary women who happen to enjoy playing at Halloween games all year round? I hope so. (And because I do not want to cause unmerited trouble, I’m not identifying them or the fair at which they are appearing.) But if they are innocent, they are playing a dangerous game. Intentionally or not, they may be opening the doors to the occult, even to direct dealing with “Lord Lucifer.”

Already it has become commonplace for public libraries to host “Drag Queen Story Hour.” Again we are assured that it is just a bit of light-hearted fun. But the shows introduce young children to aberrant behavior, and encourage them to accept it as normal, all in the name of tolerance. Avowed pagans and Satanists insist on, and sometimes are given, equal opportunity to deliver invocations at public gatherings. Let an old-time gospel choir perform at the county fair, and how can you justify excluding the dancing witches?

Occasionally one hears stories about saints—Padre Pio, for instance—who were said to wrestle with the devil quite literally. Demons would torment them, pummel them, leaving scars and bruises. In these rare cases it seems that Satan was frustrated by his failures. When he got no results from the sort of everyday temptations that coax the rest of us into sin, he abandoned all subtlety and revealed himself.

Ordinarily Satan works undercover. He does not introduce himself, and say, “Why don’t you try a bit of sin today?” No; he plants a thought in an idle mind: “Here: this could be fun.” Or: “Have you ever tried that?” Or maybe even: “Don’t worry; this is just light-hearted. Nothing ‘dark.’”

And heaven knows—I mean, heaven knows—in our culture the devil has many different ways to deliver his messages. Want to tempt someone to anger? Give him a newspaper. To envy? Magazine advertisements. To lust, or greed, or gluttony? Log onto the internet. Your ticket to perdition may be purchased with a click of the mouse.

No doubt Satan tailors his temptations to fit his victims. With most people and at most times he works quietly, insidiously, doing his best to avoid detection. But with a few heroic saints Satan attacks openly, perhaps knowing that he cannot easily slip past their defenses. And then in some decadent societies he drops his disguises for the opposite reason: because he knows they have no defenses at all. When the doors are all open he can march right in.