T
teresanneheath
Guest
I think the homelessness, addiction, and mental illness are symptoms of the destruction of the family and life that are the primary targets of demonic attacks. Here is some theologically sound analysis of why the family unit is the favorite target:
Hi John Paul Two Too:
Of course, the devil likes to destroy families because families grow people, and people are stuff of societies, the bricks of the edifice. Okay, and now on to my next crazy-man-in-the-church story, which is mainly a “what I heard” and not a “what I saw” story.
One day (oh, I’d say around 1994 or so) I was at daily mass (Our Lady of Pompei Church in Greenwich Village NYC, again). It was the noon mass, if I recall rightly. And Father Tesarolo was saying mass, a wonderful Italian priest from the old school (Scalabrini Priests, but I diverge). Anyway, there was a mad man in the church (presumably a homeless man who had wandered in). We could all hear him (calling out in a crazy gibberish, which seem to be building at the Consecration). He had a very strange voice , which was an inhuman voice–I cannot quite describe it–well, it sounded a little like record set on too-high speed. Anyway, no one in the church was moving or turning to him, because I think we all sensed this would only encourage him.
And we all (I sensed–because we all became very still at once) starting silently praying. I remember praying that the man would be quiet. Anyway, I think Father Tesarolo must have just looked at him from the altar–something, because all of a sudden, it was as if someone had just pulled the plug on the blaring boom box of gibberish the fellow was (effectively) unleashing on us. That is, he went dead silent, and it cut off just as if someone had simply pulled the plug or turned the volume all the way down. He simply stopped talking, mid-gibber.
Then (no one turned around to look), the guy just got up and walked calmly out of the church. I could hear his steps, but didn’t turn to look. It wasn’t that we were afraid. We just felt this total peace. You could have knocked anyone of us over with a feather, so profound was the peace.
So, the Lord showed us wonders that day. I’ll never forget.
Oh, I just remembered a really neat story about when a pigeon got into the church (St. Anthony of Padua Church on Sullivan Street in Greenwich Village). This story is getting too long, I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Sincerely, Teresa
