Touched by angels

 

In John’s Gospel, Nathanael visited Jesus to see if what Philip said of Him was true (John 1:47 – 51).  He discovered that Jesus knew exactly who he was and so he proclaimed his realization that Jesus is the “Son of God”.  Jesus’ response to him reflected the Old Testament account of Jacob’s ladder with, “you will see the heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man” (Genesis 28:12). 

Angels are spiritual beings who assist God with those tasks on earth and in heaven.  In the Book of Daniel we read that, “Thousands upon thousands were ministering to him, and myriads upon myriads attended him.” (Daniel 7:9–10) 

I freely admit that I don’t understand everything.  And I don’t understand anything at all in a perfect manner, and far from it.   And as I get older and see how rich and complex even the most simple things are in their nature and in what they imply, in their role as only a small part of God's creative love for us, I feel less and less sure of being able to adequately express any bit of my understanding whatsoever.

I don’t understand angels.  I see dirt and rocks, moss and flowers, insects and fish and babies, and I can sense a growth in presence, power, and promise in that sequence.  I grasp a part of what human life is and is called to be, and I have no question that Jesus has bridged the upward gap that separates us creatures from rising to and living with His very own Godly life.

I can see where a being somewhat like me might fill a niche in that scheme, a being who is all that I am, and then some, but without a body, a being who is, like God, all at once and not living its existence in creeping moments and incomplete acts.  I mean, I know about angels, but I don’t understand what an angel really is, much less archangels, dominions, and the others.

Depictions of angels can be found in most specialty shops, in catalogs and art stores in the forms of small, medium, and large statues, in pictures, on prayer cards, in garden art and countless other objects. They can be found in stain glass windows and statuary of the great cathedrals of Europe and around the world.  If we’re lucky enough to be blessed with a believing parent, we grow up knowing the guardian angel prayer and hope we haven’t frightened ours off by the time we’ve “grown up”.  

In the Catholic faith there are the nine choir of angels (beginning with the lowest and ascending to the highest rank); Angels, Archangels, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Dominions, Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim.  On September 29^th every year, the Church celebrates the archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, who are mentioned in both the Old and New Testaments.  

Michael’s name means, “Who is like God?” We have a prayer calling on St. Michael for protection. This archangel is best known for his battle with evil, as in the Book of Revelation. (Revelation 12:7-12)

Gabriel is known as the messenger angel who announced to Mary that she was going to bear God’s Son (Luke 1:26-38).  Gabriel’s name means, “God is My Strength” and is known as the Archangel of Wisdom, Revelation, Prophecy, and Visions.

Raphael’s name means, “Healing Power of God”.  We find this archangel in the book of Tobit (Tobit 12:1-22).  He was sent in an answer to Tobit’s prayers and the prayers of his daughter.  In this book of the Old Testament, Raphael is a companion and guide to Tobit, and heals him of his blindness.

I pass into simple and unconstrained faith concerning the angels’ existence, and I stand astonished at the beauty of God's love for me, love that’s filled with such marvels that not only pass my comprehension but my very imagination.  I live in gratitude that I don’t have to understand the Unknowable One, or any of His creatures or acts, in order to believe and love.

So I revel in being reduced to the simplest child, living in the joy of my Father's love for me, shining in trust, gratitude, and praise.  And so I cherish the angels in all their glory, their simple majesty, the purity of their service, and their delight in always seeing the Father's face.

I celebrate God's love for me, a love that passes now and will always pass my simple and clumsy understanding.