In Revelation19:10, there’s this brief but moving exchange between John, the author of Revelation, and an angel who has been telling him what to write. The angel tells him he is to write, “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb,” after which John, apparently overcome with awe in the presence of this heavenly emissary, falls down at his feet to worship him.
In Greek, the word for worship doesn’t always have to mean “religious worship, offered to a deity.” It can also simple mean, “to give due honour” or “pay obeisance” to someone. In this case, though, it seems like it’s the former meaning, because the angel raises him to his feet and says, “Don’t worship me, I am a servant of God just like you. . . . Worship only God.”
Like I say, it’s brief, but also moving. Because biblically, angels are not the chubby little harmless cherubs that adorn St. Valentine’s Day cards. They are heavenly warriors (He makes his angles flames of fire (Heb 1:7)), ministering spirits from the heavenly realms that pretty consistently leave humans flat on their face in abject terror whenever they come into contact with us.
So let it sink in: this angel lifts John to his feet, shoulder to shoulder, eye to eye with him, and says, essentially, “You and I are comrades, colleagues, and co-servants in the Lord’s Kingdom.” Follower of Jesus , be inspired today: you are a comrade-at-arms with the angelic warriors of the Heavenly Host, who mark you as peers as together you serve the Lord Jesus with them.
Our Angelic Brothers in Arms, a devotional thought
Joining the Triumph of the Skies, a devotional thought
'Tis the season, I guess.
I've been thinking, especially, about the opening chapters of Hebrews, which has more biblical data on the angels concentrated in one place, than pretty much any other passage in the Bible. It's kind of ironic, in a way, because the real point it's trying to make is that, as the un-created, incarnate Son of God, Jesus Christ is superior in every way to the angels. But in proving how much-more-awesomer Jesus is than any angel, the book of Hebrews happens also to say some fascinating things about angels themselves: that they exist primarily to worship God (just like us-- verse 1:6), that they are God's "ministers of fire" (1:7), that they are ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation (1:14), and that "for a little while" God made humans lower than the angels, though, presumably, we won't always be so (see 1 Corinthians 6:3 on this one).
Except for this most wonderful time of the year, when cutsie cherubim and dove-winged seraphim lurk amid the lyrics of the seasonal shopping mall muzak wafting over us as we rush about, we moderns don't really think about angels too much. The Scriptures, however, take them quite seriously and treat them quite respectfully (more often than not, a biblical encounter with an angelic being leaves you flat on your face in fear...). (Not just the Scriptures, either; last summer I read a book called "Lifted by Angels" (Joel Miller) which laid out the Early Church's very earnest, very sober conviction that angels do indeed walk among us.)
All this is to say that I'm praying this last week of Advent, that God would keep me mindful of the fact that there is more going on in heaven and earth than is dreamed of in my philosophy, and even as I keep my eyes fixed firmly on Jesus, who is, of course, far superior than any creature in heaven, on earth, or under the earth, angelic or otherwise (I was listening, author of Hebrews...) even as I keep my gaze on him, may he remind me that his chariots of fire are indeed encamped around every hill and valley I walk through.
Chariots of Fire and Other Things Unseen: A Devotional Thought
In 2 Kings 6:11-20, we get one of those stories that is profoundly mysterious, and profoundly moving because of the mystery.
The Prophet Elisha and his servant are surrounded by a terrifying army come to haul him off to the king of Syria. Things look hopeless; the situation desperate; the odds overwhelming. And Elisha's servant tells him so, failing into despair. But Elisha, entirely unperturbed, says: don't worry, because "those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Then he asks the Lord to open the young man's eyes to see just who, exactly, is fighting on their side. And this despairing servant looks again and sees the hills thronged with a host of heavenly warriors in flaming chariots, the Lord's angelic army hemming them in and guarding them.
There's actually a beautiful irony here that I can't resist pointing out: after the servants eyes are opened to see them, the angels blind the Syrians, and Elisha leads them captive to Israel, where he asks the Lord to open *their eyes* in turn, to see their predicament. God blinds the eyes of the faithless-seeing and opens the eyes of the faithful-blind.
Anyways, it's a beautiful story and artfully told, and it always leaves me thinking about the heavenly host that surrounds God's people, unseen, often unnoticed, but still (I believe) very real. Sometimes I feel like Elisha's servant, cowed by what seem overwhelming odds and tempted to despair, and this morning it felt like Elisha was praying for me, too, as much as for him: Lord, open his eyes that he might see the heavenly reality he moves in, the angelic host that surrounds him, the odds as they really stand. There are things unseen at work in the world around us (our battle is not against flesh and blood....) and in those moments of spiritual despondency, this reminder that His angels stand guard on our behalf is moving and strengthening.