Seeing humanity through the eyes of the angels
01/29/2024
When man was formed form the
“dust of the ground” (Gn 2:7), he did not stand erect in a peaceful Paradise,
contrary to popular belief. Rather, he found himself on a spiritual Mason-Dixon
Line with an angelic civil war raging all around him. Man woke up to war. In a
sense, “north” of this cosmic Mason-Dixon Line were ranged the faithful angels,
much like the Union Army, fighting for man’s eternal freedom. To the spiritual
“south” of this Line stood the fallen angels, like Confederate soldiers,
seeking to chain mankind in eternal servitude. Think of humanity as African
Americans whose fate hangs in the balance. Scott Hahn concisely characterized
this bellicose scene: “Since the time of the primordial fall, humanity has been
beset by evil spiritual forces and defended by good spiritual forces. We call
this struggle ‘spiritual warfare’” (Angels and Saints, 76-77). With the coming
of Christ, however, everything changed, not only in terms of this spiritual
combat, but also in the very fabric of the cosmos.
This major turning point in the
angelic civil war – the coming of Christ – might be compared to the Battle of
Gettysburg, which historians generally consider when the tide turned in favor
of the North. Christ’s arrival on earth, in other words, caused a decisive
shift in the behavior of angels toward men, as well as gave them a deeper
insight into their own angelic self-understanding. How so? Well, as we already
observed, the Incarnation, and especially the Ascension of Christ (where Jesus
is seated in glory at God's right hand), wrought a profound and permanent role
reversal in the chain of being. When God humbled himself and became man he
simultaneously raised man to the heights of divinity. That is, man who had
originally ranked lower than the angels in the chain of being, now thanks to
Christ was raised above the angels, even the eternally burning Seraphim.
The Catechism of the Catholic
Church quotes St. Athanasius’ remarkable statement from the fourth century:
“For the Son of God became man so that we [men] might become God” (no. 460). He
was expanding on St. Peter’s audacious claim that we have “become partakers of
the divine nature” (2 Pt 1:4). Did you catch that: man becomes God! Returning
to our analogy of the Civil War, we might compare this change in human status
vis-à-vis the angels to Abraham Lincoln not only freeing the slaves but making
Frederick Douglas – whom you will remember was not only a freed slave, but also
brilliant author and distinguished orator – his vice president! As a
consequence, the angels were henceforth sworn to protect and serve redeemed
humanity for two reasons. First, because it was morally mandated for them to do
so, like Union soldiers protected African Americans during the Civil War. But
second, because it was ontologically obligatory for them to do so because the
Vice President is a Union soldier’s superior. This dramatic shift from being
simple slaves to being elevated to the vice presidency explains the marked
difference in the angels’ attitude toward humanity from the Old to the New
Testament.
No angel had a better front row
seat to behold both the “beforemath” and “aftermath” of this turning point in
the war than the Archangel Gabriel. Why? Well, in Luke 1 we learn how Gabriel
stands, in a sense, with one angelic foot in the Old Testament and the other
foot in the New Testament. Even though the Gospel of Luke is clearly a New
Testament book, we find in chapter one two people living in two different
worlds, and Gabriel visits both of them. One person is the priest Zechariah
(cf., Lk 1:5), who, although a Levitical priest, is still shackled in the
chains of original sin. He is the quintessential man of the Old Testament.
Gabriel deals with him gruffly as a Union soldier might interact with a
southern slave. Mary, on the other hand, is a virgin (cf., Lk 1:27) who has
been immaculately conceived, and therefore, without any sin thanks to the
prevenient grace of Christ. Think of prevenient grace like retroactive grace.
That is, Jesus – because he is God and man – can apply the graces of his Cross
to people earlier in time, just like he applies it to us later in time. And of
course any good son would apply that grace first and foremost to his mother. I
know I would, and so would you. Hence, if Zechariah is the epitome of the Old
Testament, then Mary stands as the paragon of the New Testament, already
redeemed by Christ. Mary is not only a freed slave, she has been chosen as
Christ’s vice president. That elevation creates a sharp difference in how
Gabriel, a humble Union soldier, must approach her.
Now that we know what’s happening
under the surface, let’s step back and survey the entire scene. What first
catches the eye of the attentive reader is how Gabriel reacts when both
Zechariah and Mary question him. The priest and the virgin both ask reasonable
questions when Gabriel announces the births of their sons, John the Baptist and
Jesus. Zechariah inquires is Lk 1:18, “How shall I know this? For I am an old
man, and my wife is advanced in years.” Mary, for her part, wonders similarly
in Lk 1:34, “How will this be, since I do not know man?” Those are eminently
rational questions because in both cases only a miracle could overcome such
childlessness. One suffered from advanced age, the other from virginity. And
what makes Gabriel’s attitude even more astonishing is that Zachariah was
offering incense as a priest in the temple (cf., Lk 1:9), and thus practically
standing on the top rung of the Jewish social ladder. Mary, on the other hand,
an unmarried virgin isn’t even on the ladder. But the archangel’s response to
each is not only wildly disproportionate but also highly instructive. Gabriel
admonishes Zechariah declaring his sentence: “And behold, you will be silent
and unable to speak until the day that these things come to pass” (Lk 1:20).
Whereas, with Mary, Gabriel demures and quickly explains how the miracle will
occur: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will
overshadow you” (Lk 1:35). He punishes the priest, and he is humble before “the
handmaid of the Lord” (Lk 1:38).
What does this archangelic
attitude toward these two characters teach us? First of all, Gabriel’s attitude
toward Mary demonstrates that she is in a league all by herself. We see all the
power, beauty, holiness, and humility that God’s grace can bestow all poured
out upon the Blessed Virgin Mary. This superabundance of grace in Mary –
remember Gabriel first saluted her saying, “Hail, full of grace” (Lk 1:28) – is
why William Wordsworth called her “Our tainted nature’s solitary boast.” But
secondly, Gabriel also indicates our possible future glory, that is, we are to
share the throne of God, and to “reign with Christ” as St. Paul taught in 2 Tm
2:12. In other words, Gabriel’s approach toward Mary showcases how all angels
will treat every baptized Christian because he or she has been made “partakers
the divine nature” (2 Pt 1:4). Angels knew before even Athanasius that
"God became man so that men might become God."
A mother who attended a baptismal
preparation class I was giving taught me what participating in the divine
nature means. I was explaining the importance of the anointing with Sacred
Chrism. That special oil signifies that this baby has now become a priest,
prophet, and king. How so? Well, in the Old Testament men installed in those
three offices were anointed on the crown of the head. But I added that since
Jesus is also a good older brother, he gladly shares with us, his little
brothers and sisters, his own riches. At that moment, this mother elbowed her
oldest son and said, “Did you hear that? Good older brothers share what they
have with their little brothers and sisters!” And so it is with Christ. He is
not greedy, or jealous, or worried that we might get too much of the glory.
Jesus graciously and generously shares with humanity everything he has received
from his Father, especially his own divine nature. As St. Paul expressed it in
Gal 4:7, “You are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir,” or
as I would put it, “a vice president.”
As we proceed through this study
of the angels, we might be surprised we are learning not only about the angels,
but also about ourselves as human beings redeemed by Christ. In a sense, angels
are like the miraculous apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe, where people are
reflected in the Virgin’s eyes. In 1979, a renowned ophthalmologist, Dr. Jose
Asta Tonsmann, magnified the cornea of Mary’s eyes 2,500 times using digitized
high-resolution imaging. He discovered clear reflections of St. Juan Diego and
Bishop Zumárraga. The closer we study the angels, therefore, the more we
discover about ourselves reflected in their eyes. One rather dramatic discovery
is the difference between the Old and the New Testament. In particular the holy
angels pivoted after the coming of Christ by treating redeemed humanity as their
superiors. We will now have to spend a little time reflecting on how the unholy
angels, or demons, also deal with mankind. From Satan’s perspective, however,
the coming of Christ only made matters worse, both for the angels, and for us.
Praised be Jesus Christ!