The Guardian Angels

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways

(Ps 91:11 Lk 4:10)

I remember a conversation many years ago with a with a colleague about angels.  It went something like this:

Me:

Lovely feast day today, the guardian angels.  Just imagine actually seeing them when we live in the fullness of God.

Her:

No such thing as angels.  God doesn’t need them.

Me:

Well, I hope that my guardian angel looks like a Fra Angelico angel with big, bright, colourful wings and playing music.

Her: 

Rubbish!

Well, that put an end to that conversation.

Since then, I have discovered that for the Hebrews, influenced by Mesopotamian and Babylonian angels, angels probably looked more like this (except when the visiting angel was not disguised as a human): 

Our images of angels owe more to the Roman image of the winged Victory.

 

To add to this, as a young person I always thought of them as ‘she’ rather than ‘he’.  What a shock – in all their images they wore long dresses and looked like girls.  Entry into the Catholic Church soon put me right.  They are neither but we still call them ‘he’ by default.

I rather like the great fierce creatures of Babylonian imagery. They convey strength, purpose, reverence and security.  The light touch of Fra Angelico’s angels conveys speed, lightness, beauty.  Both, in their attempts to imagine that which is beyond our imagining touch on the two important functions of angels in Scripture – guarding/protecting and messaging/communicating.

So, whatever our images of angels, for me they embody a deeper mystery – the mystery of creation as community.

Throughout Scripture all creation (from creation to Parousia; from the earliest form) is one interwoven fabric and humankind is part of that fabric.  

As the living icons of the One who Creates, our fidelity or lack thereof and our moral choices influence all creation.  In Scripture, this is not metaphorical, but a very real influence.  Our role is to serve created reality as God’s true images.

Scripture tells us that creation rejoices in the Creator.  The Psalms are full of it.  The angels are part of this rejoicing, collaborating creation and it seems that part of their role is to guard, protect, inform, encourage, remind humankind in our attempts to be the Face of our creating, redeeming God.

The communion of saints reflects this understanding of the community of creation.  Death does not end this communion of life.  We pray for and to those who are now in the fullness of God, believing they are not only still ‘interested’ but see clearly now that which has been experienced ‘though a glass darkly’ (1 Cor 13:2).  The angles are part of this great communion of life that is no longer available to our human senses.

So, the very nature of creation is community.  We belong to each other and strive to act with mercy towards each other – and the ‘other’ whether bacteria, animals, rocks, trees, people or creation we only see through faith, we are sisters and brothers to each other.  That is how we are the icons of Divine Triune Love.

I am constantly unsettled by the profound egalitarian nature of the Reign of God revealed in Jesus.  Grounded in his Jewish heritage, he preached a community that goes beyond blood relations, tribe, nationality, likes and dislikes.  

This community is a sign of the community of revealed and redeemed creation – the interwoven relatedness of all – even the ‘all’ we cannot yet see.

So, I see this feast today of the guardian angels as celebrating those beings of spirit who rejoice with us and guide us in the community of creation.  Each of us has our role and responsibility and gift for our joy and the life of the whole.  So, our angels guard, guide and enlighten – they help us be who we are created to be.

I leave you with the story of Balaam and his she-donkey (Nb. 22). 

Balaam was sent to curse Israel. His she-donkey saw the angel.  Balaam didn’t.  She changed course and stopped.  Balaam got angry with her.  She still saw the angel so she just lay down on the road.  Balaam was so angry he beat her.  The Lord opened the she-donkey’s mouth and she spoke with great reason. 

Then the Lord gave the donkey the ability to speak. “What have I done to you that deserves your beating me three times?” it asked Balaam.

“You have made me look like a fool!” Balaam shouted. “If I had a sword with me, I would kill you!”

“But I am the same donkey you have ridden all your life,” the donkey answered. “Have I ever done anything like this before?”

“No,” Balaam admitted.

Then the Lord opened Balaam’s eyes, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the roadway with a drawn sword in his hand. Balaam bowed his head and fell face down on the ground before him.

“Why did you beat your donkey those three times?” the angel of the Lord demanded. “Look, I have come to block your way because you are stubbornly resisting me.  Three times the donkey saw me and shied away; otherwise, I would certainly have killed you by now and spared the donkey.”

Then Balaam confessed to the angel of the Lord, “I have sinned. I didn’t realize you were standing in the road to block my way. I will return home if you are against my going.”

 Now there’s a story worth thinking about.

Pax et bonum.