Sacrifice, Favor, Repeat


Before the modern age romanticized pagan religions into New Age panaceas, ancient worship was known to be raw and brutally pragmatic. In our modern spiritual-industrial complex, it is often sugarcoated into some kind of warm, earth-loving ceremony filled with personal empowerment and divine intimacy. But if you’re reading this, you’re probably already suspicious of that narrative.

In fact ancient religion, pagan religion, was highly transactional. The gods didn’t love you. They didn’t weep over your suffering or aspire to protect you.

A passage from Behold the Christ: Proclaiming the Gospel of Matthew by Leroy A. Huizenga makes this brutally clear. Pagan worship, he writes, operated on the ancient principle of do ut des: “I give so that you give back.”(1) In other words, the gods and humans used each other. You offered sacrifices, incense, food, or praise not out of adoration, but because you wanted something in return: good crops, protection in war, fertility, rain, wealth, healing, vengeance, and victory. And the gods? They wanted to be fed, praised, and kept relevant. It was mutual exploitation dressed up in sacred costume.

“That is, the worshipper provides a sacrifice to a god that pleases and empowers the god, who then turns around and does the worshipper favors. Because the gods are often indifferent to humans, worshippers engage in repeated ritual to reach out and get a god’s attention.”

This paragraph says more about ancient spirituality than most modern New Age books on “manifesting” or “connecting with the divine.” The ancients weren’t confused. They understood that the gods were powerful, unpredictable, and not especially interested in human wellbeing unless there was something in it for them.

And this wasn’t limited to Rome or Greece. Versions of do ut des appear in Vedic sacrifice, Mesopotamian temple economies, and also Tantric Buddhist practice where offerings are made to wrathful deities to invoke, control, or appease.

Nowhere is this transactional logic more systematized and ritualized to the point of industrial precision than in Tibetan Buddhism. While cloaked in the language of enlightenment and compassion, the tradition is saturated with mechanisms that mirror the ancient do ut des economy: elaborate offerings, incense, butter lamps, mandalas, and tormas (sacrificial cakes that replaced blood offerings when the Buddhist principle of ahimsa “non-harming” took root). These were given not out of unconditional reverence, but to elicit specific outcomes from specific deities. Monastic liturgies are not just meditative recitations, but are negotiations with a pantheon of wrathful and peaceful beings, each with their own preferences, powers, and temperaments. Moreover, the non-harming sentiment in Tibetan Buddhism only extends so far. While Buddhist tantra forbids blood sacrifice, its subjugation rituals, aimed at both spiritual and human enemies, can involve some of the most brutal punishments found in any ritual religion.

Drupchöd ceremonies, held in large monasteries, exemplify this beautifully. These are days- or weeks-long ritual marathons involving collective chanting, visualization, music, mudras, and vast offerings, all designed to propitiate deities into bestowing protection, wisdom, and worldly benefits like health and prosperity. Whether invoking Mahakala to remove obstacles or Tara for swift blessings, the assumption is clear: the deity acts when properly fed, praised, and invoked. The gods (or enlightened beings, depending on your doctrinal parsing) are not passively watching; they’re participants in a cosmic economy, and Tibetan Buddhism, more than almost any other tradition, has mastered the bureaucratic apparatus needed to transact with them. It’s not just about personal devotion. It’s about correct performance, correct offerings, and the correct “exchange rate” of ritual. The love of the gods is not assumed. Their attention must be earned over and over again.

Modern Takeaways and a Warning

This transactional pattern isn’t limited to ancient paganism or esoteric Tibetan ritualism. You’ll find the same spiritual economy alive and well in the darker corners of contemporary occultism. Take it from someone like Riaan Swiegelaar who’s lived on the other side: former Satanists and occult practitioners routinely speak of offering sacrifices, especially blood, to demons in order to negotiate outcomes.(2)

He described it well: “A lot of people ask me, ‘Why are there so many sacrifices in Satanism? Why is there blood?’ The answer is simple: blood has currency in the spirit world. If I want to negotiate with demons, I need to bring an [animal] sacrifice because that blood holds value. It functions as spiritual capital.

“But here’s the contrast: the blood of Jesus is the highest currency in the spirit world. It covers everything. That’s the authority we stand on. And every ex-Satanist or ex-occultist who’s encountered Christ will tell you the same thing. I might be the only one talking about it openly, but this is real: we engaged in negotiations with demons, offered animal sacrifices, and got results. That’s how the system worked. Then we experienced the blood and love of Christ and there’s no comparison. It’s not even close. His blood is infinitely more powerful. In spiritual warfare, people need to grasp that reality. The blood of Christ is free, but it is not cheap, is it? It came at the highest cost. And what happened on the cross? That wasn’t a one-time transaction in history: it remains as valid, active, and potent today as it was then, and always will be.”

This is so important that it bears repeating: no spiritual currency, no ritual offering, no demonic pact compares to the raw, unmatched power of the blood of Christ. This is the rupture at the heart of Christianity: the economy of sacrifice is over, not because gods stopped demanding payment, but because one sacrifice bankrupted the system.

From blood-soaked altars in Babylon to ritual offering tormas in Himalayan monasteries, humanity has always traded devotion for power and offerings for favor. But the cross flipped the script. There is no more need for bartering, manipulation, and performance to win divine attention. What Christ offered wasn’t another payment into the cosmic vending machine but a final act that rendered the machine obsolete. And if that’s true, then every attempt to re-enter the old system, whether through pagan ritual, tantric bureaucracy, or occult negotiation, isn’t just a return to tradition. It’s a rejection of victory.

(1) Leroy A. Huizenga, Behold the Christ: Proclaiming the Gospel of Matthew (Emmaus Road Publishing, Steubenville, Ohio).

(2) Riaan Swiegelaar, former co-founder of the South African Satanic Church, in various public testimonies including interviews and livestreams (e.g., “Riaan Swiegelaar Testimony,” YouTube, 2022), has spoken openly about blood sacrifice as spiritual currency and his eventual conversion after experiencing the love of Christ.


Playing with Fire: The Death of a Paranormal Investigator and the Perils of Inviting Evil


Yesterday, Dan Rivera, a U.S. Army veteran and lead investigator for the New England Society for Psychic Research (NESPR), died suddenly during a tour in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Rivera, 54, was headlining the sold-out “Devils on the Run Tour,” a paranormal event centered around the infamous Annabelle doll, which inspired the Conjuring film series. Emergency responders performed CPR at his hotel, but Rivera was pronounced dead at the scene. Exact cause of death is unclear. The irony? Rivera died while promoting one of the most notorious cases of alleged demonic possession in American folklore.

Annabelle is no carnival sideshow. The Raggedy Ann doll was housed in the now-defunct Occult Museum founded by Ed and Lorraine Warren, the couple who brought demonic cases into the public eye long before Hollywood did. According to the Warrens, Annabelle had a history of real violence. Not metaphorical, but physical harm that left actual wounds. She caused slashes that drew blood. In one case, a priest who defied the doll reportedly crashed his car into a tree shortly after leaving. In another, a detective who came into contact with the doll was allegedly stabbed and forced into early retirement.

The Warrens took no chances. They sealed Annabelle in a locked glass and wood cabinet, built specifically to contain her. A large sign at the top read, “WARNING: POSITIVELY DO NOT OPEN,” and a crucifix was affixed nearby for protection. The case was blessed regularly by a Catholic priest, and the Warrens made it clear: no one was to touch the case, mock the doll, or treat her as a curiosity. The museum, as they described it, was not a showcase of artifacts; it was a containment zone for objects they believed were spiritually dangerous. And Annabelle was its most volatile resident. Ed Warren died in 2006, Lorraine in 2019, and after their deaths, Annabelle remained in the care of their son-in-law, Tony Spera. According to the New York Post article published on July 15, 2025, “In 2019, the museum closed to the public over zoning issues, and in recent years, they have toured around the US instead.” However, perhaps touring the country with a possessed doll wasn’t the greatest idea.

Annabelle’s case isn’t just a bizarre footnote in paranormal lore but a stark example of what happens when human curiosity crosses into forbidden territory. The line between fascination and spiritual danger is thinner than most people think


Flirting with Evil Is Not Harmless Curiosity

The Catholic Church has been blunt on this issue for centuries: do not engage with evil or attempt to communicate with it. The Church doesn’t take demons lightly because it understands their nature and knows they don’t play fair. Their goal is the destruction of body, mind, and soul.

Rivera’s death is not the first time a paranormal investigator has died while engaging in their work. In 2016, prominent demonologist Lorraine Warren warned publicly that even decades-old “cleansed” objects and locations still carried spiritual residue. In her words, the influence of evil does not simply go dormant, it waits.

Zak Bagans, host of Ghost Adventures, once had to close off a room in his Las Vegas museum containing what’s become known as a dybbuk box. Visitors reported nausea, blackouts, and even strokes after encountering it. One man died of a heart attack just hours after taunting the box on camera. The term “dybbuk box” refers to a modern, supposedly haunted object, often described as a wine cabinet that houses a malicious spirit rooted in Jewish folklore. Traditionally, a dybbuk is a dislocated soul believed to possess the living. However, the concept of trapping one in a box is a recent invention with no basis in authentic Jewish theology. The box was first popularized through a viral eBay listing and later sensationalized by paranormal media.


The Conjuring: A Fictional Mirror of a Spiritual Reality

Hollywood loves the Conjuring universe. Ghosts, demons, and haunted dolls are box office gold. But what people forget is that the source material isn’t fiction. These were real cases documented by the Warrens. And the “entertainment” factor trivializes the spiritual warfare at the heart of these phenomena.

This is where the deception lies. Evil often presents itself as fascinating and seductive—something to be conquered or controlled. But actual demonic entities are predatory. The more one invites them in, the greater the chance of a devastating outcome.


Dan Rivera’s Legacy: A Cautionary Tale

No one questions Rivera’s bravery or passion. But we must question the wisdom of his choices. Spiritual warfare is real. Whether Rivera’s death was directly supernatural or not is ultimately beside the point. The fact is, he died while immersed in the darkest corners of the supernatural, and he is far from the first.

The Church’s warnings aren’t outdated superstition: do not make a spectacle of evil. Do not exploit evil for entertainment. Some doors should stay shut.


The Subconscious as Battleground: Demonic Infiltration Through the Wounds of the Psyche


In our modern world, the subconscious is often reduced to a psychological artifact, a repository of repressed memories, habits, and impulses. But from a biblical and Catholic standpoint, this internal space is more than just a vault of emotion and instinct. It is a spiritual battleground and a vulnerable domain where real entities, such as demons seek entry and control.

I speak not in theory but from personal experience. As someone who has lived through the horror of possession, I know firsthand what it means to have my subconscious colonized by non-physical forces, in particular, Tantric deities and the so-called yidams (meditational deities) I once invoked in long term retreats. They now exert control over my dreams at night, not as fragments of memory, but with an intention, force, and intelligence all their own.

Trauma, Sin, and the Open Doors

The Catholic tradition is clear: sin creates openings. These are spiritual vulnerabilities through which demonic powers can assert influence. But it’s not always sin, but often wounds and traumas that become entry points. This aligns, ironically, with what Jung called the shadow: the parts of ourselves we deny or fail to integrate.

In occult and tantric frameworks, these shadows are often “worked with” i.e. ritualistically invited, named, and visualized. In my case, the visualizations of the yidam were never just symbolic. They were summonings that invited intelligent spiritual entities through geometric portals into the liminal space of my subconscious mind.

Obviously, tantric rituals are powerful, but the power is not “of God.” The light of Christ later revealed to me that what I had opened myself up to were demonic counterfeits or parasitic forces clothed in deceptive splendor.

The Subconscious

While the Jungian model treats these internal figures such as archetypes, gods, and dreams, as symbolic representations of the psyche, Biblical scripture offers a different view. Ephesians 6:12 tells us that our struggle is “not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world.”

What modern psychology calls “unconscious drives” may, in reality, be demonic actors exploiting our blind spots. They can manifest through thoughts, compulsions, visions, or dreams. They don’t just influence behavior, they shape the architecture of perception, infiltrating belief itself. This is why confession and deliverance are not just spiritual maintenance but are spiritual war strategies.

Dreams: The Nightly Invasion

The yidam I practiced during my retreats appears nightly, manipulating my dreams and injecting disturbing images, physical sensations, and false feelings of failure and yearning. It tries to arouse old loyalties alternating between affects of pseudo kindness and visions of cruel and bitter punishments. These dream invasions foster confusion and despair; and sometimes cause sensations of physical torment.

From a biblical perspective, dreams are a legitimate domain of spiritual communication, but that doesn’t mean all dream figures are from God. In Jeremiah 23, the Lord condemns false prophets who “make my people forget my name by their dreams.” Satan can disguise himself as an angel of light and in my experience, tantric deities do precisely that.

We must recognize the subconscious not as a private fortress, but as a permeable space, one that requires guarding, cleansing, and illumination by Christ alone. Anything else, especially tantric visualization and archetypal meditation, opens up doors we cannot close on our own.

There is no neutral spirituality. Every spiritual practice either opens the soul to grace or to deception. As one who has been inside the snare, I say this without hesitation: tantric deities are demons in disguise, and their preferred hiding place is the very part of us we least understand: the subconscious.

But Jesus Christ, in His mercy, descends even into those hidden caverns, casting out darkness and healing the wounds that made us vulnerable in the first place.

“For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil.”
— 1 John 3:8

Perfect Possession: The Hidden Endgame of the Tantric Path?


Catholic exorcists consistently emphasize that full demonic possession is rare. Far more common are lesser forms of demonic influence, what the Church calls degrees of demonic attack. According to experts like Fr. Gabriele Amorth and Fr. Chad Ripperger, these stages are typically identified as:

  • Temptation (ordinary spiritual warfare)
  • Infestation (demonic presence in a place or object)
  • Oppression (external hardships caused by a demon)
  • Obsession (mental or emotional torment)
  • Possession (a demon controls the body, but not the soul)
  • Perfect Possession (the soul itself has given full consent to the demonic)

What Is Perfect Possession?

Fr. Malachi Martin, Jesuit priest, Vatican insider, and exorcist, famously warned of the phenomenon he called perfect possession. This occurs not when a demon forces its way into a person, but when a human being voluntarily invites and cooperates with a demonic entity over time until the human will is no longer in conflict with the demon’s presence. In such cases, the individual may appear calm, successful, and even spiritual, but has wholly aligned his or her soul with darkness.

Martin described this as the most terrifying form of possession because there is no resistance and often, no exorcism possible. The person has handed over consent of the will, and the demon resides not only in the body but in the soul.

This is not the ugly, contorted possession made famous by Hollywood. This is a quieter form of coexistence.

Possession Among the Occult Elite

Catholic exorcists often connect perfect possession to satanic priests, high-level occultists, or individuals who have undergone ritual consecration to Lucifer. It is the end point of a spiritual trajectory, not a single moment of sin. It involves years of voluntary cooperation with evil using ritual invocation, blood pacts, and blasphemous imitation of the sacraments.

But there is more discrete path that leads to the same end. It is cloaked in lotus flower imagery, Sanskrit mantras, and spiritual “blessings,” and is propagated by tantric adepts, yogis, and mahasiddhas who have spent years practicing yoga and ritual invocation of beings they consider to be deities.

Is Perfect Possession the Hidden Goal of Tantra?

In the Tibetan Vajrayana tradition, called “the quick path to enlightenment,” tantric practitioners visualize themselves as the deity. They merge consciousness with the god, goddess, or guru, often through esoteric or sexual ritual, in pursuit of realization.

But what if these “deities” are not who they claim to be?

What if they are counterfeit spirits or demonic intelligences disguised as beneficent beings of light?

In that case, the tantric adept is inviting an entity to live within him, again and again, through ritual, offerings, and mental surrender. Over time, the boundary between the self and the invoked being dissolves.

This is a form of spiritual possession.

And if the person no longer resists, if they call this possession “enlightenment,” then it seems to meet the classical definition of perfect possession or possession of the soul.

Signs of Perfect Possession in the Tantric World

Unlike Hollywood portrayals, the perfectly possessed do not foam at the mouth or speak in guttural Latin. Instead, they:

  • Radiate serenity, even as they worship gods of wrath and destruction
  • Exhibit supernatural knowledge or powers (siddhis), which are praised, not feared
  • Express total identification with the spirit/s they invoke
  • Are untouchable by traditional exorcism, because they do not want to be freed

In Catholic understanding, this is the most dangerous state of all because it involves no inner conflict, and therefore no pathway to repentance. The soul lives in union with a demon, often under the delusion that it is serving the good.

Satan Appears as an Angel of Light

Scripture warns us:
“And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.” – 2 Corinthians 11:14

What better disguise than that of a esoteric deity offering long life, healing, spiritual bliss, and enlightenment?

Exorcists like Fr. Amorth and Fr. Martin remind us that total possession doesn’t happen by accident. Satan must be invited in. And perfect possession is the result of spiritual consent, repeated and ritualized over time.

Tantric practitioners may never use the language of possession. They may call it “liberation,” “non-duality,” or “union with the deity.”

But from the standpoint of Christian spiritual warfare, it is not liberation but captivity, sanctified and made beautiful. It is a demonic entity, ethereally robed and seated on lotus thrones, perfectly at home in the human soul. And it leaves the adept deeply indebted to demons.