Can Angels Read Minds?

praying to angels

Can angels read minds? Do they know your secret thoughts? By the power of God, angels are able to know and understand a lot about what is happening in the world.

Since creation, angels have watched and recorded the choices that people make. They also play a part in listening and responding to prayers made by people but can angels read your mind to know exactly what it is you’re thinking about?

Do Angels Know As Much As God

Although angels have amassed great knowledge, they are not omniscient. This means that they can’t bear the same amount of knowledge as God. It’s important to understand that God created angels and, therefore, cannot have the same knowledge as the being that created them.

In Mark 13:32, Jesus spoke of the limited knowledge of angels when he said that no one knew the day or the hour that God would descend from heaven to earth. He added that not even him, nor God’s angels had that information, apart from God himself.

It’s clear that angels do not know as much as God, but they do know a lot more than humans. God created angels before he created human beings. Angles rank higher in order of creation and naturally, have more knowledge. This, therefore, brings the up question; can angels read minds?

Angels Accessing Your Mind

Everyone has one or more guardian angels. Guardian angels are assigned by God to watch over you and care for you all through your entire life. This means that they can gain access to your mind at any point. Your angel needs to communicate with you frequently so they can do an efficient job in protecting you.

There are angels who communicate with people by transferring thoughts from their minds to the minds of the people through telepathy. According to Debra Hall of Psychic Advisor, psychics can also do this by having thoughts that are brought about by Angels.

However, they are only able to do this if people grant them permission. No angel can read minds without being granted access, apart from guardian angels so you do not have to worry. In any case, angels will not read your minds for purposes other than good.

Angels do not spend their days simply eavesdropping on the thoughts of people. They do not go around sneaking around the minds of people. This is because they find no interest in where your mind wanders during the day, your dreams at night, or on what you say to yourself. But they do pay a lot of attention to what people think about God, such as silent prayers.

Angels are ministering spirits and will use the information they find in your mind not for evil, but for good such as interceding with God. You can trust them with access to your mind because you might find that they know more about you than you know about you. In days such as these when only a few people can be trusted with sensitive information and secrets about the world, it is hugely comforting to know that angels will not use their vast knowledge to hurt people.

Saint Thomas Aquinas wrote that it is only God who knows absolutely everything about what is in the minds of people. He added that it is God alone who has a full understanding of how people think and how it relates to their free will.

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Activities for St Nicholas’ Day Telling the legends

The legends about St Nicholas bring together the Advent and Christmas themes of expectation, excitement, gift-giving and goodness. Retell some of the legends about St Nicholas. Children could act out the story when St Nicholas secretly gives gold coins to three poor women; or play a game trying to throw chocolate coins or sweets into three large Christmas stocking or a large bag.

Bringer of gifts

St Nicholas is the great gift-giver and kind man. Explore the theme of gift-giving with the children. Ask them why gifts are given at Christmas and what do they symbolise? Discuss with them whether they like giving presents and what sort of presents they choose for people. Encourage the children to consider what makes a gift precious. Then explain that St Nicholas gave gifts freely to those in need. He expected nothing in return.

With younger children: pass-the-parcel

To play this game the children’s leader needs to prepare a pass-the-parcel.  The parcel should contain a stocking/sock full of sweets, wrapped around with many layers of paper. After the discussion on gift-giving play pass-the-parcel with the younger children. While the parcel is being passed around the leader can sing Christmas songs. Whenever the leader stops singing, the child with the parcel unwraps a layer of paper. The winner is the child who unwraps the final layer and gets the present. Ask the winner
what St Nicholas would have done with the present. Would he have kept it for himself or shared it with the other children? It is hoped that the winner will get the message and share the sweets.

With mixed age groups: make a gift shoe

Encourage the children to discuss the customs they have at home during Advent and Christmas. They will come to realise every home is different.  Then explain some of the St Nicholas Day customs in Holland and Germany, including how children leave out their shoes for St Nicholas to fill. The children can make their own paper or cloth shoes to remind them of the custom.

You will need: paper, colouring and decorative materials, a stapler, scissors and small sweets, chocolate buttons or coins.

Get all the children to draw around one of their feet on a piece of paper and cut out the outline. Then ask them to draw around the top part of their foot on a second piece of paper and to cut this out. The top part of the shoe can then be stapled to the sole as shown in the diagram. Older children might prefer to use felt and sew the edges together. The children can decorate their shoes and fill them with small sweets to give to someone at home or in the congregation. They can write a greeting Happy St Nicholas’ Day – on the shoe or hang it up as a Christmas decoration.

This article was taken from Nicola Currie’s book “Festive Allsorts – Ideas for Celebrating the Christian Year”NS/CHP. Nicola Currie is Communications Officer in Worcester Diocese.

distributed by Anglican Communion News Service (ACNS)

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Mummering or Jannying…

Also known as mumming or janneying, it usually involves a group of friends or family who dress in camouflage and visit houses within their community or neighbouring neighborhoods during the twelve days of Christmas.

If the mummers are invited into a house, they frequently do a range of informal performances that may consist of dance, music, jokes, or recitations. The hosts need to think the mummers’ identities before using them food or beverage. They might poke and prod the mummers or ask them questions. To make this a difficulty for the hosts, the mummers may pack their outfits, cross-dress, or speak while inhaling (ingressive speech).

Once the mummers have actually been determined, they eliminate their disguises, spend some social time with the hosts, and then travel as a group to the next house.

Mummering is making a comeback now and you can see they did an article on it at CNN

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Ash-Wednesday

by T S Eliot

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

 

II

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to satiety
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.

 

III

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man’s mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs’s fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.

IV

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary’s colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary’s colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

 

V

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people.

VI

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

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