One the most profound themes in all literature explores the nature of evil. We are instinctively aware and afraid of this metaphysical force, which has been personified in countless ways, from Satan to Dracula to modern day serial killers, and even aliens from another planet.

Classics ranging from the Harry Potter series and The Lord of the Rings to Goethe’s Faust and Dante’s Inferno pose the same basic questions about evil: Whence does it come? What physical form does it take, and how does it disguise itself? What is its modus operandi? What is its ultimate purpose?

All we know for certain is that it thrives on lies and chaos, and that it can never be completely destroyed.

In this scene from the 1973 film “The Exorcist,” Damien Karras, a young Priest/psychologist, is deeply disturbed by the abominable acts of Regan, a young girl who has been possessed by the devil (remember the floating bed and the rotating head?). He poses this question to old Father Merrin, a worldly Priest and exorcist:

Karras: “Why her? Why this girl?”

Merrin: “I think the point is to make us despair. To see ourselves as… animal and ugly. To make us reject the possibility that God could love us.”

In films that feature the struggle of good versus evil, a character typically employs the sign of the cross as a shield against evil. In the everyday real world, faithful Catholics gesticulate in this manner as a reaction to any situation that appears dire, threatening, or worrisome. For example, many of my students do so when they hear ambulance sirens outside the classroom windows. For adults struggling with personal demons of addiction or other compulsive behaviors, the sign is to fight against temptation.

The sign of the cross – three fingers of the right hand touching the forehead, then the heart, and then crossing shoulders left to right – is a motion ingrained at a very young age among Catholics. In church, it is a formal, obligatory sign of faith. It signifies three basic tenets of Christianity: 1) Through Christ, God became human in body and soul, 2) Christ died on the cross to save our souls, and 3) we are thus given the chance for eternal life in heaven.

We live in an era that presents great challenges to our faith, not only in the institutions of religion, but also in our ability to find truth when we are constantly bombarded with propaganda in the form of marketing and political manipulation. Moreover, Artificial Intelligence now threatens more than just taking away our jobs; it diminishes our sense of who we are as a unity of body and soul. In such an artificial world, we despair. We are reduced to, as Merrin says, ugly beasts whom God cannot love.

Logical people tell us that we must have proof to believe in something – that there is no real evidence of God or a resurrected Christ. Existentialists contend we are born without a moral compass and must find our own individual meanings in life. Skeptics and cynics would rather find fault and disparage the faithful than seek their own answers to life’s mysteries. And some sad individuals don’t see themselves as having any worth at all, and await the end of the nothingness they embody.

I broached this topic last year at Northern Chautauqua Catholic School with Father Dan Walsh from Holy Trinity and Principal Andy Ludwig. Alas, the bell rang, interrupting the discussion and signaling the more pressing matter of teaching kids. But now, having had more time to think about it, I might challenge the sign of the cross in this manner: Can it be something more than a shield against evil, or a short prayer for the safety of someone in trouble, or a wish for some divine favor? Could we improvise on its symbolism to include a kind of uncrossing – an opening up of the arms and hands, an invitation to a church that has been purged of perversity and corruption among its clergy, and a new protocol for leadership wherein priests can live more normal lives, thereby touching more people spiritually and giving them renewed faith and hope for the future.

Pete Howard is the author of The Hourglass Pendant and other Paul James Mysteries. He lives in Dunkirk and teaches ELA at Northern Chautauqua Catholic School. Send comments to editorial@observertoday.com