Hello, I am a criminologist-clairvoyant in spiritual contact with Virgin Mary. On HubPages, I provide free of charge clairvoyant services.
Visit to St Sava church, 23 Simplon, Paris 18 where many demonic possessions occur
Demonic possessions at church ground: The case of St Sava’s church in Paris 18
St Sava is a Serbian Christian Orthodox church located at the address 23, Simplon street in Paris 18 near metro station Simplon. From 1962 it was rented for worship, and in 1984 it was purchased and converted to the Serbian Orthodox Church. St Sava stands in a very special, calm French neighborhood, where Serbians, Macedonians, Bulgarians, Russians and other Eastern Europeans cohabit peacefully with the local Christian French population. Paris 18 is rich in Christian churches with St Sava being the only Christian Orthodox church in Montmartre. To name a few—Notre-Dame du Bon Conseil, Sacré-Coeur Cathedral, the Basilique of Sacré-Coeur, the Jewish church, Notre-Dame de Clignancourt are among the other churches surrounding St Sava in the quartier. Other ethnic groups in Montmartre include the Muslim and black communities, which are particularly numerous and influential. At night, cliques of ten to fifteen black men only would openly gather usually around the water fountains in the vicinities of St Sava, creating an atmosphere and a feeling of pederast rings. (Here, by pederast rings I don't mean brothels for gays, a sexual practice or a certain sex position, but rather small networks or social formations of gatherings at night reserved for men only who are predominantly black.) While black men usually come together at night for smoking, flirting and conversations, violent clashes are not uncommon and strangers should be especially prudent at night. The police would patrol the place, but are unlikely to interfere in these homosexual social gatherings.
First contacts with the icons of the church of St Sava
I first visited St Sava somewhen in the autumn of 2019, when I discovered the Serbian church by chance while promenading on a warm afternoon in the Parisian neighborhood. St Sava is hosted in a small, medieval looking house made of stone with a large bell and solid, stone cross on its roof. A golden mosaic of the Serbian saint St Sava, holding the Christian cross, decorates the church’s frontal wooden gates.
According to an entry in Wikipedia, “Saint Sava, known as the Enlightener, was a Serbian prince and Orthodox monk, the first Archbishop of the autocephalous Serbian Church, the founder of Serbian law, and a diplomat. Sava, born as Rastko Nemanjić, was the youngest son of Serbian Grand Prince Stefan Nemanja (founder of the Nemanjić dynasty), and ruled the appanage of Hum briefly in 1190–92. He then left for Mount Athos, where he became a monk with the name Sava (Sabbas).”
Further we also read: “he is widely considered one of the most important figures of Serbian history. Saint Sava is venerated by the Eastern Orthodox Church on January 27. Many artistic works from the Middle Ages to modern times have interpreted his career. He is the patron saint of Serbia, Serbs, and Serbian education. The Church of Saint Sava in Belgrade is dedicated to him, built where the Ottomans burnt his remains in 1594,during an uprising in which the Serbs used icons of Sava as their war flags; the church is one of the largest church buildings in the world.”
While standing before one of the main, biggest icons of Bogoroditsa, the Mother of God, Mary talked to me in a divine tone: “I will ask St Sava, the patron of this church, to protect you.” From this day on, Mary gave me the power to converse with the Serbian saint-prince. Oftentimes, over night, when I experienced troubles and family feuds over wealth, I would go before St Sava’s church and pray for salvation. Mary would send telepathically ancient prayers to me which I would chant. The words would come alone through my mouth, and they are not a fruit of my mind.
Mary, Mother of God enters into contact with me from her icons at St Sava
Talking from my experience, usually, every icon of Mary has its own voice, life and opinion. For instance, an icon X in a church A would behave very differently from an icon Y in a church B. The icon of Mary, Mother of God at St Sava talked to me about her son Jesus.
On major Christian celebrations, Serbians would bring small gifts to the table covered with red, silk cloth in the main hall of the church such as cakes, chocolate, candies, milk, boiled wheat with powdered sugar for the deceased, coca-cola, and many other things. I cannot consider the local Serbian population particularly poor as most of them work in grossery shops as merchants, cleaners and housekeepers in households and companies, security guards, musicians, painters, authors, freelancers, or hold their own small business.
I would sit before Mary’s icon and concentrate on it, trying to enter into direct spiritual communication with her. “Don’t eat before my son. Take one or two candies and then swiftly exit the church.”—said one morning Mary. Other bizarre things Mary would ask me to do include buying and bringing candles from the clerk in the small kiosk and placing them before her iconostasis for her personal use; bringing milk and water from the shop just adjacent to the temple; buying small forest fruits and cream for her son, as well as doing other small things.
Mary was really kind during our conversations. As a reward for my patience and constant prayers and devotion, she would ask me to film with my mobile camera our spiritual seances and conversations and upload them on YouTube. During our contacts, Mary spoke of the life of my deceased grand-mother and witch Elena, of my other grandma Bogdana, of my father, of my mother’s sins, of my colleagues at work, of other saints, and so on. Oftentimes, Mary asked me to buy crosses from her church and place them somewhere hanged near the houses’ gutters. One morning, Mary insisted: “From the first money your mother sends you buy a bigger icon of mine for your flat. Do not delay the purchase!”
And so in spite of the fact I lacked much money during the coronavirus outbreak, I complied and bought the icon. On a morning during the weekend, I entered alone St Sava and looked at the icons for sale displayed on the wooden shelves at the entré. While there were many icons I liked, I bought the one that talked to me first. It was a representation of an old Greek icon of Bogoroditsa, where the Mother of God is bleeding. A flow of red blood cools from her cheek. According to historical accounts, when iconoclasts in Greece started destroying Mary’s icons, expropriating church property, some of her imageries magically started bleeding and crying, causing the worriers to cease destroying them. I bought the icon from a not so kind Serbian boy, however, who studied for a priest in a not so well reputed Serbian theology school somewhere in Paris. I suspected this theology school was used as an immigration scheme for many migrants, some of whom possibly have criminal records. He wasn’t well dressed and soon became rude to me in time. At times, he even started mocking me. I have to tell, I didn’t find that boy very attractive. He was tall, slim, dressed with the same clothes every day, and with cheap eyeglasses. His poverty, however, didn’t impede his rude behavior. Once I bought a candle from him and he pushed the candle towards the ground as if he didn’t do it en exprès. What an unpleasant boy, I thought! Here, I have to say most of the boys serving St Sava seemed to me of homosexual or bisexual orientation with only limited sexual and flirting experience. I attempted to not show my anger at the dork, took my candle and newly bought icon and left angrily St Sava.
Bogoroditsa warned me on multiple occasions to take notes of the boy's incompetent, hooligan behavior as he was going to do something really horrible, impolite to me one day. Yet, being busy with mundane affairs, oftentimes I forgot writing in my diary about the church clerk and his instructor, the priest. The incident was about to come just days after.
The priest of St Sava locks me inside the church as if by accident
One afternoon, Mary told me to stay more with her and not to leave immediately her church. That day, however, the priest was a bit absent minded and locked me as if by accident inside the temple. I tried to escape, but in vain—there was no way out. Also, there was no phone number left on the front door to call anybody, no key to exit the premises, no other church servants and clerks inside. I waited for about fifteen minutes and called the police in Paris 18, asking for immediate help. The policeman on the phone talked to me in a sexy, virile tone telling me he sent a car to St Sava. At this point of time St Petka talked to me from her golden icon: “Stand there behind the doors and shout the name of the man who attacked you.” I was a bit surprised but did exactly what she said. St Petka added: “Take your mobile camera and film the incident and that bad priest.” Meanwhile, I managed to open one of the windows looking at Simplon street and attempted to shout, call for help, and call the priest back over. After all, his office, despite without apparent label and with black windows, stood just before the small stone church. After a few minutes, the priest heard me and came over. The old man entered the church as if nothing happened. I was surprised by his impudence and feeling of impunity. I managed to film the incident and quickly escaped. The police didn’t arrive until that time and so I called back the police station warning I somehow managed to leave the church safe. A policewoman picked up the phone and confirmed the call, closing the case. The police officer thought I was a lady on the phone. This was a really daunting, scary experience! Once home, I posted the video of the kidnapping incident in the church on Twitter with a copy to the French police.
Saint Mary’s anger
Some days after the incident, I noticed the icon I purchased from St Sava wasn’t always benevolent towards me. At times, she gave me wrong advice which ruined my plans during the day, wellbeing, health, relations with my mother, etc. The reason for her malevolent behavior, I suspect, is that I bought the icon and other church paraphernalia from bad, unfair men originating from not so elevated families with not so good education and of largely homosexual orientation, bad habits and most probably with criminal records. I think the moral from this case is that when we buy icons, talismans and other objects we believe must bring good luck and health, we must purchase them from persons and firms of good moral and social standing which don’t wish us bad. I doubt Mary was really speaking to me from her icon: rather a demon or the spirit of the man who sold me the hexed object spoke to me. Or I am wrong? And so, I read Cyprian prayers before the nefarious painting, which I placed on a shelf near the windows with a vase of flowers, and shortly returned it back to St Sava as the icon itself demanded. “Return me back to St Sava and the clerk from the kiosk.”—said Mary. Afterwards, all problems magically disappeared from home. I guess the moral is when you buy icons, imageries of Mary and other church talismans and tokens, make sure you purchase these from priests and nuns of high moral, good families, education and of true faith in God. This case leads me to suspect demons at times possess icons and statues of St Mary, pretending to be herself and God in the attempt to enter human subconsciousness and destroy humankind from within. “I only wanted to show you what powers the clerk from St Sava has with me.”—explained Mary’s icon, which deeply hurt my feelings towards Christianity, Marian apparitions and miracles and her faith.
St Cyprian, who often leads my short spiritual quests in Montmartre, showed me once a living demon in Paris 18. In my vision, I saw a dead woman playing with strange toys in a dark room—usually human teeth and other bones, which she takes from various people for her own, personal use.
Many are the paths to God: some lead to nowhere, others lead us to ourselves, some lead to death, and certain lead us to hell. Is Mary after death still a saint, a demon, the wife of God, the mother of the Lord, or a goddess? And what is Mary God of exactly? How modern pilgrims should pray to her? What changed in Christian rituals over time? And how is Christianity different from Satanism with its at times harmful paraphernalia? More research is needed in this area.
The visual sociology of St Sava’s magical, talking icons
Today, I went to St Sava to take some photos of the icons I believe are possessed by demons and meanwhile also took a short video of my tour. During my visit, I felt the strong presence of St Cyprian and St Justina with me. “Take some photos of St Sava’s church and post them on your blog. … Take mainly photos of Jesus Christ and St Mary’s imageries. … Remember, this Christian faith and church belong to St Mary, and she should be in charge of its well-being and purity.”—taught me the old saint talking from his grave.
Visual sociology is especially useful in describing the process of the making of our research and in presenting novel evidence before new audiences. Below you may find my impressions of the Serbian church as well as recent, fresh photographs with a short description. I hope you enjoy my photo session! This video material is unique as it was filmed under the spiritual guidance of the deceased Christian saints St Cyprian and St Justina as well as other ghosts and spirits attracted by my spiritual work and missions.