Firstly, I really did open up a hornets nest with my last blog about Gays and Christians. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I blog: To stimulate debate, but for posterity, I wish people would put their comments on the blog rather than the chip paper that is Facebook!
What did touch me was certain private messages which I received from people who are personally very affected by this, and who live in fear of judgement when what they want and need is love and acceptance. Which of those three verbs is distinctly un-Christian?
Anyway, that’s not what I am posting about today. I have a very different subject which is not exactly causing me concern, (maybe it should be?) but certainly is taking up a lot of my grey cell meanderings:
Are there mischievous ghosts/spirits?
Some of you will know my daughter Jemma. She’s a bit of a character, and although she was a nightmare to live with at home, I miss her now that she lives in a flat. However she still makes guest appearances round about the end of the month when food supplies are low and she’s in the need for a bit of motherly TLC and this weekend has been no exception. The difference however, is that she is not too keen to return to her flat after some strange goings on:
As a thirteen year old, one of her friends called Janey (name changed to protect the innocent and all that) went through the trauma of losing her best friend to a freak illness. This could not have been anything other than a life changing event and one you would never forget. Last week was the anniversary of this girls death. It so happened that that night Janey stayed round at Jemma's flat. It wasn’t a weekend and after watching a dvd they both fell asleep as they both had work the next morning.
Janey had put her phone on silent, and so when it went off at 7:45, she didn’t hear it. However, Jemma (or so she thought) shook her and said ‘Get up’
Janey dosed for 5 more minutes before alighting to an empty flat. Jemma had left the house at 7.00 fifty minutes earlier.
Frantically she phones Jemma, and with her mind racing, who was it that had awoken her? In addition, in the middle of the night Janey had asked Jemma to stop poking her which Jemma knew nothing about.
A plugged in battery charger flies across the room in her bedroom the next day and then on Friday, another friend stays with Janey and is awoken to the sound of a young girl laughing. She looks across and Janey (the only other person in the bedroom) is still and fast asleep.
Oh, and did I mention the lights all going out in the house but then working again the next morning.
An old boyfriend (who’s mum practiced voodo & Dad an evangelical preacher, I kid you not!!) had many dark experiences including waking up with a terrible weight on his chest but no one there.
Kids seem to be ‘aware’ of all this stuff.
My old man got funny when we told him we were looking at a house in Clophill. ‘Ooh, there’s a witches coven there.’
Dad! You’re a Methodist preacher, not Stephen King! Certainly the old church has been rumoured to have been haunted for as long as I can remember. One night, when one of Jemma’s friends got a car they went for a drive to Clophill. A group of teenagers stood sulkily in a bus shelter & they asked them the way to the church. They were told it wasn’t wise to go there but were given directions anyway and off they drove down the dark lane to the chapel. Upon turning the corner and entering the churchyard, a group of hooded men were seen to be standing over a grave. In the middle of the night?? The car was thrown into reverse and sped back down the hill. They were still screaming as they careered back past the bemused teenagers.
|OK, they didn't have burning staves.|
It’s a funny story the way she tells it, but its also pretty sinister.
I guess we can be ambivalent about that kind of thing. Only last night on the Jonathan Ross show, (I was outvoted) his guest Danny Dyer, (Proper mental!) regaled a tale of seeing a ghost at a railway station. The crowd laughed but took it more seriously when fellow guest Liam Neeson also confessed to witnessing such an aberration.
|Why dont they believe me?|
|'Who gives a f***, cushty!!'|
I believe in spirits. It says in the bible ‘For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.’ I take that pretty seriously. I believe there’s a God, I believe there’s a Devil and I believe we are on the battleground, but these types of ‘restless spirit’ stories are difficult to put in a particular box. I would have my head bitten off by my daughter if I dared to suppose that this was simply a product of a furtive imagination.