Spirit of Murder

One of the strangest experiences in my life was the night when I could see everything, but no-one seemed to see me. Just as well too, because this case involved three angry guys, a broken bottle, and a couple of switch-blades.

The way it started was this…

One night some years ago I was overcome with a desire to do something for God. So I said to Him “Lord I want to do something for you. Is there anything I can do for you?”  To my surprise I felt that he said to me “Go and sit in the car and pray.” I thought this was a bit strange, but went outside into the street where the car was parked. This was on a stretch of road that was one way traffic, but was a busy three lane street in the inner west of Sydney.

So I got into the car and prayed. I prayed for some of the people I could think of. I prayed for our neighbours. I heard a few raised voices come from the house that was next door to us. This was not all that unusual, so it didn’t bother me much. This made me all the more surprised then, when  I distinctly thought that God prompted me to pray “against a spirit of murder.” This had never happened before, but I did so. Not long after I prayed against murder, three guys came noisily bursting out of the front gate of that property. This gate was about ten metres down the road, so behind me as I sat in the driver’s seat of my car. They were having an aggressive argument about something. I turned round in my seat to watch.

The first one out was a big guy, whom I had never seen before. Following him was a man who was smaller than him of medium build, whom I recognised as one of those who lived in that house. Following him was a skinny young guy who lived there too. The two smaller guys were telling the big guy that he owed them money. They aggressively moved towards him. He backed up along the pavement towards my car. He said he didn’t have any money. The medium sized guy said to him “OK, well give me your jacket then,” stretching his hand out towards the thick black leather jacket the big guy was wearing. There was a struggle as he tried to take the jacket of the man, who resisted aggressively. They began to wrestle violently over it shouting at each other as they did so. The melee was now right alongside my car, and as they fought each other one threw another against the side of my car, which rocked with the energy of it. I was by now thoroughly scared, wondering why they didn’t seem to have seen me sitting in the front seat of the car, and what would happen if they did.

The big guy saw an empty bottle sitting in a recycling crate by the side of the road. He grabbed the neck of it and smashed the body against a telegraph pole. Now he had a weapon. He thrust it menacingly towards the two other men. They backed off a little. He shouted at them in rage. They shouted back, but then quickly ran back inside their house. I couldn’t tell whether the big guy followed them inside or went around the side of the house. At any rate they all disappeared for a few moments.

As it went quiet my wife Jennifer partially opened our front gate and peered out. She was only a few metres from me. She looked into my car. I waved at her to show her that I was alright. I was sure she must have seen me, because she was so close, and I was actually in the light of a streetlight above me.  Nevertheless, she didn’t acknowledge me. She looked around upon the street, and shut the gate. I found out afterwards that at this point she was very concerned because she had heard the fight, but looking out could not see me.

I hadn’t yet felt that it was safe for me to get out of the car and go indoors, so I stayed where I was and prayed for the situation as best as I could. The big guy came back, and stood outside the house yelling taunts at the two inside. Then they came out, having got what they went in for: their flick-knives. When the big guy saw that he stopped jeering at them and again backed up along the footpath towards my car. The two from the house held their knives out towards the big guy with the leather jacket. The younger of the two was shaking with the energy of the scene, and nervously darted glances towards his leader. The leader leered towards his intended victim and Hacked by r3vanbastard. The large framed guy backed away from them, towards me. As they came to within only two metres of me I could clearly see the faces of the two attackers in the streetlight. I looked at the leader of the two. He didn’t appear concerned that the man didn’t want to surrender the jacket. He was enjoying himself.

As I looked at him I was shocked to see the look on his face, and to recognize the spirit in his eyes at this moment. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t anger. It was lust. Lust to stab this man with his knife. The closest thing I’ve ever experienced to what could be called a spirit of murder. It was lust. Lust for blood.

At this moment the big guy turned and fled around the front of my car and was pursued across the road by the other two. They cared nothing for the cars that were in their way, moving at perhaps only thirty km/h at this point. As they reached the other side of the road they caught him and laid him in the gutter, both knives glinting in the darkness, thrust up against his throat. At least fifty cars must have cruised by this scene, none stopping. I couldn’t hear what they said to him, but I could hear the big guy pleading for his life. “No! Please! Alright! OK, you can have it!” They hauled him to his feet and as they held their knives towards him he stripped off the precious jacket and gave it to them.

Having obtained his goal the leader of the two menaced him some more with the knife and cursed the other. The big guy was heard to answer “Yes! OK! Sorry!” Then they let him go, and ran back across the road to their house. The one who was now minus his coveted jacket ran up a side street. Seeing that the coast was clear now, I got out of my car and got back inside my house. I was incredulous not only at what I had just seen, but that they appeared not to have seen me at all.

When I got inside my house Jennifer told me that she had called the police. Then she said “Where were you?”

“Didn’t you see me?” I asked. “I was waving at you when you came out of the gate.”

“Ian, you weren’t there” she said. She told me that she had seen was the fabric of the seat I was sitting in illuminated by the streetlight. She could see the empty seat clearly. Yet I was sitting in it all the while.

Now I know that this is such an incredible tale that you probably don’t believe me. I can hardly believe it myself. But neither can I understand how they could have such an intense fight all around my car and not notice me at all. Also, I have never before or since felt prompted by God to pray against murder. But I’m glad that on that night I did.

Christians should learn from scripture rather than experience because experience is subjective whilst scripture is absolute and pure. Nevertheless we can draw lessons from our experience if they are in accord with what the Bible teaches. In those days I learned a number of things that way. The lessons that I drew from this experience were first of all, how evil is the sin that dwells within us and which but for God’s grace we are all capable of. Second, that anywhere God puts me is a place that He will keep me safe. Third, that God cares for the life of even the most wretched and wicked among us. Fourth, obedience to God’s promptings results in life and blessing.

Who knows but that one of those men who were involved in that scene may even yet live to surrender to Jesus, and thus do what they were born for. Will you do what you were born for?