Not an angel
16/02/19 04:42
Yesterday I did a small favor for a neighbor. It was nothing special, just the usual kind of thing that neighbors do for one another. She came rushing up to me and said, “You are an angel.” It seemed to not be the right time to correct her theology, so I just said, “No problem.” But if she would like to know the truth, I am NOT an angel. If you don’t believe me, just ask my wife or either of our kids. They are all very honest people and they would tell you the truth. Or, if you’d prefer, ask my sister or one of my brothers. They aren’t quite as honest as my wife and kids, but they do have some stories that the others probably don’t know and if they do know them, my siblings would tell more graphic versions, I’m sure.
If you have any doubts about me being an angel, read on. I’m pretty sure that no angel would use some of the language that comes to my head.
As I walked back to the house, however, I thought to myself that it might be fun to be an angel, at least once in a while. It would have been fun to be the angel that got to scare the shepherds on the night that Jesus was born. I’ve lived around sheepherders all of my life and I would get a real charge out of scaring a bunch of shepherds until they peed their pants. I know that the Bible doesn’t say that they peed their pants, but I’m pretty sure that “They were sore afraid” is fancy King James speech for “they peed their pants.” I would get a kick out of scaring the shit out of a bunch of sheepherders some day. I can name several who really deserve it if you know what I mean. I know, the Bible doesn’t actually say shit, but if you read the story it says, “So they went with haste . . .” Do you know any sheepherder who did anything “with haste?” I know a sheepherder who arrived as I was locking up the church one morning. It was two and a half hours after the appointed time for worship. He calmly said, “Heck,” (OK he used another word, but I’m pushing it already in this journal entry.) “Heck, I knew I was running a bit late, but I thought at least I would make it in time to get a cup of coffee.” He seemed a little miffed that we didn’t keep some coffee and cookies for him when he got there.
I’m not sure that every job that angels get are the easy ones. There are a couple of angel jobs that I’d just as soon leave to others. We know that Gabriel is among the unlucky angels. When all of God’s angels were sitting in heaven and they drew straws to see who had to go tell Mary that she was preggers, Gabriel must have drawn the short straw. Talk about a tough job! She was a virgin, after all. How do you tell a virgin that she is in a family way without getting all embarrassed yourself? You know she isn’t going to be happy with this news and the first thing she’s going to do is ask you how the heck this could even be. She’ll probably think you are lying, or that you are the worst joker in the pantheon of angels. Is “pantheon” even the right word. What do you call a group of angels? A flock? They do fly. Or a flight, or assembly, or collection. The Bible speaks of a multitude of the heavenly host, which I assume means a whole pack of them, scores of them, a crowd of them, a bevy. I’ve heard of an army of angels, too. And I think legion is also a Biblical term for a whole convoy of them.
But Gabriel might not be the most unlucky of the angels. After all the angel that had to tell Jospeh that his girlfriend was “in a family way” isn’t even named. So I guess we can assume that it wasn’t Gabriel. Though If it was Gabriel I can see how he might have used his power to scare the Gospel writer out of using his name. “Ha ha! Look at you! You peed you pants! I sure scared the shit out of you! Now just put down the pen and skip the part where you put down the name of the angel and no one will get hurt. You don’t need to put any name there. Just say, “an angel of the Lord.” I’m watching you! If you so much put a capital G in front of anything except God, I’ll be back.”
And six wings or no, being able to fly or not, I sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the seraph who had to take a coal with tongs and touch the mouth of the prophet Isaiah. That would have been no fun at all. Burning flesh really stinks. And most of this Biblical prophets had beards. Have you ever smelled singed beard and mustache? I have. Trust me. You don’t want to.
I sometimes have to diffuse or run a debriefing for a corrections officer who has been assaulted by an inmate. It isn’t an easy task because those people are professionals and they know what they are doing, so they don’t let their anger get the best of them until the situation is all over. Then they can yell and sometimes they do. Imagine having to be one of the angels who had to take care of Jesus after he was tempted by the devil in the wilderness. Sure he was all nice and polite when he was in the situation, but I bet afterwards he had some choice phrases for that blankety, blank, blank devil. I would have. I would have been ready to tell him to go straight to . . . well you get the picture.
Nope. I’m not an angel, and I don’t think I’d make a very good one.
I’ll stick to small favors for kind and gracious neighbors.
If you have any doubts about me being an angel, read on. I’m pretty sure that no angel would use some of the language that comes to my head.
As I walked back to the house, however, I thought to myself that it might be fun to be an angel, at least once in a while. It would have been fun to be the angel that got to scare the shepherds on the night that Jesus was born. I’ve lived around sheepherders all of my life and I would get a real charge out of scaring a bunch of shepherds until they peed their pants. I know that the Bible doesn’t say that they peed their pants, but I’m pretty sure that “They were sore afraid” is fancy King James speech for “they peed their pants.” I would get a kick out of scaring the shit out of a bunch of sheepherders some day. I can name several who really deserve it if you know what I mean. I know, the Bible doesn’t actually say shit, but if you read the story it says, “So they went with haste . . .” Do you know any sheepherder who did anything “with haste?” I know a sheepherder who arrived as I was locking up the church one morning. It was two and a half hours after the appointed time for worship. He calmly said, “Heck,” (OK he used another word, but I’m pushing it already in this journal entry.) “Heck, I knew I was running a bit late, but I thought at least I would make it in time to get a cup of coffee.” He seemed a little miffed that we didn’t keep some coffee and cookies for him when he got there.
I’m not sure that every job that angels get are the easy ones. There are a couple of angel jobs that I’d just as soon leave to others. We know that Gabriel is among the unlucky angels. When all of God’s angels were sitting in heaven and they drew straws to see who had to go tell Mary that she was preggers, Gabriel must have drawn the short straw. Talk about a tough job! She was a virgin, after all. How do you tell a virgin that she is in a family way without getting all embarrassed yourself? You know she isn’t going to be happy with this news and the first thing she’s going to do is ask you how the heck this could even be. She’ll probably think you are lying, or that you are the worst joker in the pantheon of angels. Is “pantheon” even the right word. What do you call a group of angels? A flock? They do fly. Or a flight, or assembly, or collection. The Bible speaks of a multitude of the heavenly host, which I assume means a whole pack of them, scores of them, a crowd of them, a bevy. I’ve heard of an army of angels, too. And I think legion is also a Biblical term for a whole convoy of them.
But Gabriel might not be the most unlucky of the angels. After all the angel that had to tell Jospeh that his girlfriend was “in a family way” isn’t even named. So I guess we can assume that it wasn’t Gabriel. Though If it was Gabriel I can see how he might have used his power to scare the Gospel writer out of using his name. “Ha ha! Look at you! You peed you pants! I sure scared the shit out of you! Now just put down the pen and skip the part where you put down the name of the angel and no one will get hurt. You don’t need to put any name there. Just say, “an angel of the Lord.” I’m watching you! If you so much put a capital G in front of anything except God, I’ll be back.”
And six wings or no, being able to fly or not, I sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the seraph who had to take a coal with tongs and touch the mouth of the prophet Isaiah. That would have been no fun at all. Burning flesh really stinks. And most of this Biblical prophets had beards. Have you ever smelled singed beard and mustache? I have. Trust me. You don’t want to.
I sometimes have to diffuse or run a debriefing for a corrections officer who has been assaulted by an inmate. It isn’t an easy task because those people are professionals and they know what they are doing, so they don’t let their anger get the best of them until the situation is all over. Then they can yell and sometimes they do. Imagine having to be one of the angels who had to take care of Jesus after he was tempted by the devil in the wilderness. Sure he was all nice and polite when he was in the situation, but I bet afterwards he had some choice phrases for that blankety, blank, blank devil. I would have. I would have been ready to tell him to go straight to . . . well you get the picture.
Nope. I’m not an angel, and I don’t think I’d make a very good one.
I’ll stick to small favors for kind and gracious neighbors.