The Exorcism on the Stage: How a Stranger Broke My Chains

There is an ongoing debate in some church circles about whether or not a believer can be heavily oppressed or even possessed by an evil spirit. People will tell you, “If you are a child of God, Satan can’t touch you.” But if you read your Bible, you see men who carried the Lord’s anointing get overcome by evil. Look at Saul, Peter, and Judas. Jesus literally looked at Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan.”

I know this spiritual warfare is real because in 2005, right after my son Cash was born, I had a demon cast out of me.

At the time, I was still chasing my dream of being a rockstar. I was playing a show in the basement of what was then called Trotters (now Rivermont Pizza). In college, I made thousands of dollars playing there. We would pack 500 people into the building, completely breaking fire codes. It was loud, dark, and chaotic.

My band actually started out as a Christian alternative rock band at Liberty University. But when the school outlawed all alternative music on campus and kicked everyone out except me, we lost our venues. We fell into a trap. We started playing bars, and eventually, the ego, the crowds, and the environment morphed us into a full-fledged bar band practicing darkness in the sight of the Lord.

It was in between the second and third set of our show at Trotters. The crowd was getting drinks, and the room was dark. A crippled man walked onto the stage. He could barely walk; his hands were deformed, and his feet turned inward. I was shuffling a setlist by my amp, and I turned around to meet him in the middle of the stage.

Because I always tried to be nice to the crowd, I asked, “What’s up man, do I know you?”

He looked right at me and simply said, “You shouldn't be here.”

In a flash, I thought about my three-year-old daughter at home and my newborn son, Cash. Here I was, drinking, feeding my ego, and practicing evil. Before another second passed, this man grabbed both of my hands and said, “Let's pray.”

I don't remember the exact words he prayed. All I remember is my arms shaking. His hands were shaking. There were intense vibrations surging through my entire body. The next thing I knew, I was crying, giving him a huge hug, and thanking him. I didn't even realize I was on a stage or that people were around. I just turned and walked straight out the back door.

Our guitarist, Phil, who was also a preacher's son, was sitting outside. He took one look at me, stood up, and essentially asked what on earth had just happened to me because I looked completely wrecked by something heavy.

I looked at him and said, “It is over. I can no longer sing.”

He knew exactly what had happened. He gave me a hug. God was not going to allow us to continue down that path of destruction.

This morning, I was reading Mark 9, where a father brings his demon-possessed son to Jesus. The Bible says the spirit would throw the boy to the ground and cause him to convulse violently.

It made me think of our shows. At the end of our sets, in a tribute to Kurt Cobain, we would ritually drop to the dirty stage floor, kicking over drum sets, knocking over amps, and convulsing on the ground while playing pure chaos. I know now that Satan, who was the chief musician of heaven before he was cast out, uses music to feed the ego and mimic the very destruction we read about in Scripture.

When Jesus' disciples asked why they couldn't drive the spirit out of the boy, Jesus told them, “This kind can come out only by prayer”.

That crippled man who walked onto my stage didn't use a formula or try to argue with me. He just prayed. I never saw him again, and I don't know who he was, but I cannot imagine the immense faith it took to walk up to an intimidating, ego-driven rock singer and cast darkness out of him.

I canceled all my shows that week. I went home and started becoming the man God wanted me to be. That pivot eventually led to funding a Christian academy, leading financial ministries, and having thousands of godly conversations as I tried to point others to Christ.

I have failed God many times since then. I am far from perfect. But He continuously forgives me and makes me whole when I don't deserve it.

Thank you, God, for sending that angel. I will follow You the rest of my days, until the moment I am finally reunited with my pure, holy son.