The following is a story best told with a flashlight placed slightly below your chin in a ghost story fashion.

A long, long, time ago (About 1000 years) the powers that be decreed that a church would be built. After searching the land high and low it was agreed upon that the church should be built upon the prominent hillside of a name I can’t actually remember, sorry. Anyway, great timber, the finest of the forest, was gathered from all around and huddled together at the point where the river Avon meets the river Stour. Men labored all day long hauling the massive beams to the top of the hill. But low and behold when they arrived to the hill the next morning the lumber and been moved back down to the point where the two rivers meet! The men angrily thought someone was playing a trick on the and grumbled all day long as they moved the lumber back up the hill to the predetermined location. The next morning the men woke up sore from the arduous work and bitter because they had lost a full day’s time. They contemplated this as they walked to work again only of find all the lumber back at its point of origin.

The men in an uproar knew that it was impossible for this to be “some little prank.” They knew this had to be something more, a message from a higher source. They KNEW that God wanted the church to be built where the rivers met! Well that, and they knew that they sure as Hades didn’t want to drag all the same lumber back up the bloody hill for a third time! So it was decided, the church would be there.

The story continues…

Now, the building of church when on mostly uneventfully. The foundation was laid, the grounds were groomed, and the framing began to go up. During this time the men had quite a camaraderie established. They worked hard, but as they worked they laughed and jested with one another. They shared their hearty meals during break time, and after a long day of work they left to drink together. Yes, they all began to become quite close. Well all but one man. There was this carpenter fellow who kept to himself mostly. He worked quietly and efficiently and sat alone during downtime. But just because he worked alone didn’t mean he wasn’t working hard. In fact the church structure was progressing quite rapidly. Finally the main beam for the church was to be cut. After laboring all day a giant timber was hoisted to the rafters to be set in place. As the beam neared its resting place however the men all felt a sick feeling creep up in their stomach. It looked too short! And on closer examination it turned out to be 6 inches too short. Despair filled the workers, and deflated, they went off for home to tackle the problem the following morning.

But low and behold the next morning when they arrived the beam was not only in place but was 6 inches longer! And that antisocial carpenter I mentioned before, well he didn’t turn up that morning. In fact he was never seen again…

For these reasons the town Saxon Thuinam was renamed and became known only as Christchurch.

The End

To me I see many possible morals to this story. The obvious ones being: Why work during the day when Jesus is going to do it at night? If you pray hard enough you just might be grated those few extra inches you desire. And of course, don’t make fun of loaners because they could be the son of God.

All kidding aside it’s an entertaining tale that has been passed on from generation to generation. Few believe it to be true, most just take it with a grain of salt. But I happened to learn it and now so have you. Perhaps you will someday retell it adding your own elements and flavor as I have, or it will help you get an answer right on Jeopardy. And who knows, the morals you pull from it might be a little less cynical than the ones I came to.