This is a true story from a man I met in USA last month. In my role helping Goodness, it's perhaps not surprising I hear of battles against evil.
'Fighting evil is my work.' The young man was seriously happy. 'I travel into astral realms, fight demons and destroy them. I love it.'
Is he serious and a real demon fighter, I thought, or a hallucinating schizophrenic? He was tall, slightly tubby, overly and overtly focussed on everything he looked at or said. He seemed the type to have had mental illness. 'Why do you love fighting demons,' I asked.
'Because I'm good at it.'
I've heard this before, too many times. If it's real, evil is potentially dangerous. If it's not real, he's potentially dangerous. I'll try to dissuade him... explain the dangers...
'Do you realise evil could attack you?' I asked.
'I know, but I'm not afraid to die. I've told my parents.'
Poor parents. 'Suppose evil attacks them instead?'
'Evil won't attack them. I'm protected by angels, so are they.'
Oh dear, that old adage. 'Some evil is more powerful... Can your angels protect against all evil?'
'Yes. I'm not afraid to die,' he repeated.
It was almost a boast, a challenge to the dark to try to defeat him. I need to find a way to explain the dangers.
'Do you think your angels can protect you for the rest of your life?' He hesitated, and nodded. 'And could they protect your future friends, wife, children and grandchildren?' He hesitated, and didn't answer. I felt him thinking he could beat all demons.
'Do you know how many people there are on the planet?,' I asked. He shook his head. 'About 7 billion. Are you saying you're the most powerful person on the planet out of 7 billion?'
He looked askance, slightly aghast. 'No.'
'So it is with evil,' I said. 'You're challenging evil to battle. You might win battles against lesser evil forces. You might call a draw against some evil as powerful as you. But one day you'll lose, because some evil is more powerful than you can imagine. That powerful evil might even bypass you, to hurt your children, or their children.'
I've got through. His whole energy suddenly changed. 'I understand,' he said. 'May I buy you dinner?'
I was pleased. Not with the dinner, though it was yummy US-Mexican combo. I was pleased that if he had been mentally ill, he might stop 'battling demons', and 'come down to earth' to lead a more normal life.
Or, if he truly was fighting demons, I was pleased he might leave those jobs to the Gods, and 'come down to earth' to do good works for Light, without so many dark dangers to him and all he knows.
'Fighting evil is my work.' The young man was seriously happy. 'I travel into astral realms, fight demons and destroy them. I love it.'
Is he serious and a real demon fighter, I thought, or a hallucinating schizophrenic? He was tall, slightly tubby, overly and overtly focussed on everything he looked at or said. He seemed the type to have had mental illness. 'Why do you love fighting demons,' I asked.
'Because I'm good at it.'
I've heard this before, too many times. If it's real, evil is potentially dangerous. If it's not real, he's potentially dangerous. I'll try to dissuade him... explain the dangers...
'Do you realise evil could attack you?' I asked.
'I know, but I'm not afraid to die. I've told my parents.'
Poor parents. 'Suppose evil attacks them instead?'
'Evil won't attack them. I'm protected by angels, so are they.'
Oh dear, that old adage. 'Some evil is more powerful... Can your angels protect against all evil?'
'Yes. I'm not afraid to die,' he repeated.
It was almost a boast, a challenge to the dark to try to defeat him. I need to find a way to explain the dangers.
'Do you think your angels can protect you for the rest of your life?' He hesitated, and nodded. 'And could they protect your future friends, wife, children and grandchildren?' He hesitated, and didn't answer. I felt him thinking he could beat all demons.
'Do you know how many people there are on the planet?,' I asked. He shook his head. 'About 7 billion. Are you saying you're the most powerful person on the planet out of 7 billion?'
He looked askance, slightly aghast. 'No.'
'So it is with evil,' I said. 'You're challenging evil to battle. You might win battles against lesser evil forces. You might call a draw against some evil as powerful as you. But one day you'll lose, because some evil is more powerful than you can imagine. That powerful evil might even bypass you, to hurt your children, or their children.'
I've got through. His whole energy suddenly changed. 'I understand,' he said. 'May I buy you dinner?'
I was pleased. Not with the dinner, though it was yummy US-Mexican combo. I was pleased that if he had been mentally ill, he might stop 'battling demons', and 'come down to earth' to lead a more normal life.
Or, if he truly was fighting demons, I was pleased he might leave those jobs to the Gods, and 'come down to earth' to do good works for Light, without so many dark dangers to him and all he knows.
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