Thursday, March 21, 2013

The Troubled Angel


                                                 The Troubled Angel


He hadn't been to earth for a little over 33 years now. This new assignment would be quite different from joining the chorus to sing of Jesus' birth. He loved that assignment but this one was different. No choirs, no joyful singing but a sense of solemnity. The Father was sending him across the divide to be with the Son for a few moments. "What will I say, Father? How can I help?" asked the angel. "Just be with him, your presence will remind him of truths we discussed. Now hurry, his agony is beginning."

The angel donned the appearance of humanity. If was hard for him to believe and harder to understand that the Son had actually become flesh and not just used it as a disguise. This human appearance didn't fit him well. but for the Son he gladly put it on and left. He found Jesus in the garden, praying hard, sweating, in agony. It broke the angel's spirit to see Him in such pain. He moved quietly to His side but said nothing. It was Jesus who spoke.

"Hello, Chamille. It's good to see you. Thanks for coming."
They shared the silence of the olive grove for a few minutes.  "Is there anything I can do, Jesus?"
"You have done all you can, Chamille. It is enough."
"Jesus, I've done nothing except hear you pray to Father. What is the cup you asked permission to let pass? I'll take it for you."
"I'm not sure if you can understand this yet, Chamille, but it is the cup of suffering filled with all the pain, bitterness, and death of the world's sin. It is mine to drink. But I've grown to love this life and these my friends and family. To fill my lungs with air; to smell bread baking; to taste grilled fish; to see the light in a child's eye with a new discovery; to feel the embrace of a friend; to hear wisdom from an old man; to hear one of Philip's funny stories; to see the joy of a healed leper or a woman freed from disease; to pry Satan's claws off a life; I love this life, these people. I could do this forever."
"Then why don't you, Jesus?
"Because they can't, Chamille. Do you know why Father chose to send you to me, Chamille? You came from the other realm untouched by sin. Your presence reminds me of the more that this world of sin and these men and women broken by sin can never see unless I bridge the divide. And also your face, Chamille. Father created you to be able to see humanity in your face. You angels have never seen mirrors. You don't need them. Here on earth, humans like to see their reflections for grooming and vanity. Father made you to reflect the faces of all those I fed, healed, laughed with, cried with, ate with, walked with, taught and love. You remind me why I will take my cup and drink it. This world won't take my life. I will give it. Now you must go. It is time. My hour is fast approaching. I want to spend a few more moments in prayer. Tell Father, thank-you and I'll be home soon."

The angel left the garden slowly, reluctantly. He was used to traveling at the speed of thought but didn't want to move away from Jesus that quickly. He changed his appearance on the edge of the garden. He turned and saw the mob approaching Jesus. He reached for his sword and saw His Lord look his way and with kindness, shake His head. The angel couldn't drink the cup. He couldn't stop the cross. He turned and walked back to heaven dragging his wings through the stars.

Cos
Luke 22:41-44

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