The Exorcism Cloth, or Pankuch. Healing, Witchcraft, and a Pact with the Devil in War-devastated Viljandi
This article analyses a collection of sermons, Linteum Exorcisticum, oder der Bantuch (The Exorcism Cloth or Bantuch), written by Rötger Becker and published in 1644 in Riga.
Becker was a Lutheran pastor in the war-torn town of Viljandi, Livonia and dedicated his five sermons to condemning a folk medicine practice, known locally as ‘Bantuch’ (or as Pankuch by Estonians). This practice involved using a ritually prepared linen cloth to miraculously heal severe wounds, and extract bullets, bone fragments, or arrows. Becker systematically denounces this as a ‘deathly sin of witchcraft’ forbidden by God.
The article argues that Becker’s work was not an isolated attack on ‘pagan superstition’ but a key part of a broader methodical pastoral and ideological program in 17th-century Swedish Livonia. This program was inextricably linked to the crisis consciousness of the Thirty Years’ War, the state-led establishment of Lutheran orthodoxy, and the political-theological struggle against the lingering influence of Catholicism.
The article highlights that what 17th-century Lutheran officials often labelled ’paganism’ was, in fact, a form of folk Catholicism. Jesuit reports from the preceding period (when Livonia was under Polish-Lithuanian rule) confirm that Catholic priests actively encouraged the blessing of objects (holy water, wax, herbs, salt) for healing and protection. This practice remained popular among both the Estonian peasantry and the local German-speaking (and nominally Lutheran) populace, who often turned to these methods in times of crisis.
For Lutheran theologians like Becker and his superior, Hermann Samson, the Superintendent of Livonia, any ritual that applied sacred power to objects or words outside of the natural order and officially prescribed sacraments – even for the purpose of healing – was problematic and defined as witchcraft.
A core focus of this article is Becker’s highly academic and methodical deconstruction of the ‘Bantuch’ ritual aimed at an educated audience (he even appeals to the physicians and physicists at the University of Tartu). Becker’s systematic analysis begins with the material component, arguing (with support from contemporary medical authorities like Adam Lonitzer) that the linen cloth itself has no natural or medical properties capable of extracting bullets or healing such wounds. From there, he deconstructs the ritual steps – sewing crosses (Crucis affixio), dipping in water (Aquæ immersio), and consecrating with holy words (Consecratio) – interpreting them as a demonic perversion and mockery of sacred Christian symbols and sacraments (the Cross, Baptism) and a misuse of God’s holy name. This leads to his conclusion: since the Bantuch is demonstrably effective but has no natural power, its efficacy must stem from a supernatural, demonic source, binding both healer and patient to an implicit pact with the Devil.
Finally, the article suggests that Becker’s detailed, systematic approach – breaking down the ritual to analyse its components based on natural philosophy, medicine, and theology – can be seen as part of a broader 17th-century European intellectual tradition of methodical skepticism. Becker’s efforts reflect the deep frustration of an educated pastor attempting to convince his congregation to abandon a practice he deemed both theologically dangerous and scientifically nonsensical. His struggle to explain away an effective (likely placebo) remedy using the best knowledge of his time is comparable to the challenges medical experts faced during the COVID-19 pandemic in countering popular alternative treatments. Unable to find any natural efficacy in the Bantuch, Becker was intellectually and theologically forced to conclude that its power must stem from demonic fraud.