Battles with the Devil: From Esotericism to Buddhism, He Was Set Free by God
In the 1990s a teenager named Martin was rumored to be an “indigo child” by his Christian family, a New Age claim that gifted children were destined to transform the world. The belief portrayed such children as “super‑humans” or “old souls,” attributing them with intuitive or spiritual intelligence that set them apart from society. Martin saw himself as special, excelling in music, sports and studies, and his aunt believed he had a specific purpose in life. The story shows how this perception fueled his ego and a thirst for power through knowledge, shaping his later life.
4 months ago
Zenit recounts Martin Leblanc’s account of moving from teenage drug use and esoteric practices through Buddhism and martial arts to Christian faith. He says he experienced frightening spiritual episodes along the way and that a powerful encounter with Jesus led him to leave those practices behind. 1
Leblanc says his family viewed him as an “indigo child,” a New Age idea that cast certain children as unusually gifted and destined to shape the future. He recalls that the label fed his ego, while a demanding relationship with his perfectionist father left him feeling overwhelmed. At 15, he began using hallucinogenic mushrooms, LSD, and cannabis, and became involved in crime. 1
At 16, amid heartbreak and an existential crisis, he says he consciously accepted death and experienced what he understood as leaving his body. The experience led him to Gnostic teachings and esotericism; he later described hearing voices and sensing hostile presences, while continuing to pursue what he saw as secret spiritual knowledge. 1
After about a decade, Leblanc says he gave up drugs and occult activities after meeting his future wife. The couple’s children strengthened his resolve to build a stable life; he resumed his studies and found work in IT. He also began martial arts, initially seeking physical fitness and a sense of balance. 1
He later embraced Buddhist philosophy and trained in Shaolin Kung Fu, aspiring to become a master. Leblanc says he was drawn to ideas about mastering qi and overcoming the self, but came to question how those ideas could be reconciled with personal relationships and love. 1
Around age 40, Leblanc says he was again experiencing what he believed were hostile spiritual entities. After watching a video by Father Joseph-Marie Verlinde, a priest who had previously followed Transcendental Meditation, he prayed for Jesus to reveal himself. Leblanc describes feeling warmth, weeping, and a sense of relief. 1
He continued kung fu while joining a church choir, where he says he found community and a different kind of life from the dojo’s hierarchy. After an intense test for advancement left him with a fractured finger and bruises, he faced a choice between continuing martial arts and pursuing music. He also says he saw shadowy, demonic figures at the dojo, which prompted him to leave and discard items connected with Gnosis, Buddhism, and kung fu. 1
The article reports that Leblanc has followed Christ since 2017 and reconciled with his father. He says he shares his story in the hope that others seeking spiritual answers will not have to take the same lengthy path. 1
Christian teaching distinguishes spiritual pride from authentic spiritual growth
Yes. Christian spirituality distinguishes spiritual pride—treating holiness, knowledge, or good works as grounds for self-exaltation—from authentic spiritual growth, which bears fruit in humility, charity, and dependence on God. But humility does not mean pretending that God has given you no gifts or refusing to aspire to holiness.
Spiritual pride can arise precisely when someone is doing good things: praying, fasting, giving alms, studying, or serving others. The danger is not the good practice itself, but turning it into a reason to feel superior or to seek praise. St. John Chrysostom warns that even religious works can be corrupted when done with a proud spirit; the more someone does what is good, the more important humility becomes.
Pride can also appear in spiritual learning. Pope Benedict XVI distinguished knowledge itself from the presumption and boasting that can accompany it: the problem is not understanding more, but treating what one knows as a possession that elevates oneself above others. John Cassian makes a related point: seeking spiritual knowledge for human praise, or teaching what one has not first tried to live, obstructs genuine spiritual understanding.
St. John of the Cross describes a subtler form: a beginner may think of himself as already saintly, become angry or impatient over his faults, and desire freedom from them chiefly to feel peaceful or accomplished. Such distress can look like zeal for virtue, yet be centered more on one’s self-image than on loving God.
In John of the Cross’s account, authentic growth brings increasing humility. A person may do more good, yet become more aware of how much remains to be given in love—and how dependent he is on God. This does not mean that the good is unreal or worthless; it means that one no longer treats it as a personal achievement that entitles one to admiration.
Humility also makes room for courage. Chrysostom stresses that it is not the same as timidity, flattery, or meanness. Someone can speak firmly against wrongdoing without being arrogant; the distinction lies in whether the courage serves truth and the good, or merely expresses insolence and self-importance.
A helpful test, then, is not simply, “Do I recognize that I have grown?” It is more like: “Does this growth make me more grateful, more willing to serve, and less eager to be admired? Can I acknowledge a gift without claiming that I earned it or that it makes me superior?” Francis de Sales cautions against taking glory in things that come from others or are not genuinely grounds for self-satisfaction, and points instead to a life shaped by humility and modesty.
There is an important balance here. A person can disguise fear or spiritual discouragement as humility by insisting that he is unworthy of God’s love or should not hope for much. But the Christian starting point is that God loves first: holiness is a response to that love, not a way of earning it. The theological work supplied here warns that contempt for the good God has given is not humility but ingratitude; true humility recognizes one’s faults without denying God’s gifts.
So, neither boasting nor self-belittlement is the goal. Authentic growth means receiving one’s abilities and progress gratefully, using them in service, and remaining honest about one’s need for grace. A simple spiritual check is whether a practice is drawing you toward greater love of God and neighbor—or chiefly toward self-congratulation, resentment at correction, or anxiety about how holy you appear. These signs are occasions for honest examination, not automatic verdicts on a person’s motives.