It is clear from the many accounts of angelic appearances that the person who sees the angel may not necessarily be especially spiritual in outlook. On the other hand, same extremely spiritual people, those who give themselves freely and joyously to the service of God and their fellow creatures, would admit that they have never had an obvious encounter with an angel. In this they would appear to be in good company, for there are many saints commemorated in the Christian calendar whose names one does not immediately associate with angelic communication. Of course, we do not know what occurred in the privacy of their devotional life, but they don't seem to have divulged anything unusual to others. And here, perhaps, we have an important clue.
There are two categories of people most likely to have encountered an angel. First, there is the worldly type of individual who is shocked out of their complacency by a fully materialized apparition that nearly always shows itself during a crisis in their lives. As we have seen earlier, this might be a road accident, a perilous event, or something similar. Alternatively, someone very close to them, whom they believed to be quite well, is shown by an angelic messenger to be desperately ill, or even on the point of death. Their attendance on the dying relative or friend is urgently required. No matter how agnostic they may previously have been, they cannot disown this memorable messenger of help or fate, and the experience may be their way forward to a more considered faith than their previous materialistic assumptions.
The other category of person who is likely to know of angels by first hand experience is the natural contemplative. In the silence of prayer and the irrepressible joy of being open to the moment in hand, they are available to vast tracts of the cosmos that are a closed book to most other people. In this respect, the cosmos includes not only the astronomical universe, but also the intermediate psychico-spiritual realms that are the preserve of the souls of the departed and the angels of light and darkness. St Paul was well guided when he taught his disciples at Ephesus and Colossae that Christ was the master of this entire realm; we call this manifestation of the Son of God the Cosmic Christ, and his authority and power see to it that all is ultimately well, paradoxically in the present time, no matter how unpleasant things may appear in our little world. It is no wonder either that the natural contemplative has a mystical awareness of the scheme of eternity that includes the angelic hierarchy in its vast form of creation. Such an individual is quite likely to accept the intermediate realm, or dimension, as a matter of course, and work industriously but unobtrusively with the angels of light. These are both invaluable transmitters of divine inspiration and potent allies in a ministry of deliverance. This class of person seldom makes much of an angelic affiliation because it is all so natural; by contrast, the worldly individual who is shaken out of their past preconceptions cannot stop talking about that which they have encountered.
From all this, we may deduce that the dramatic sightings of angels represent only a very small part of a massive whole, too large indeed for us to envisage. The angel is most typical as a formless being who makes its presence felt in the mental processes of the human in terms of inescapable, needle-sharp conscience, irrepressible artistic creativity, and fiercely heroic action in a situation of emergency to the extent that the person's very life may have to be sacrificed. Yet, as we noted in Chapter 4, the angel has idioplastic properties, being able to assume a number of quasiphysical forms. These vary from the classical winged creatures described in Isaiah 6.2-7 and Ezekiel 1.1-13 to apparently well-proportioned and appropriately attired humans who are splendidly helpful in a time of emergency. It is these types of angelic apparitions that, not surprisingly, first make most of us aware of the hierarchy.
While this is all to the good, let it never be forgotten that this form of physical appearance is merely the tip of an enormous iceberg of angelic presence. The typical form of an angel is spirit and its emanation is light. We remember Jesus' statement to the Samaritan woman, "God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth" (John 4.24). We also remember that God is wholly light. The angel of light shows itself as a spiritual presence of acute illumination that clears out the inner debris, and replaces it with a freshness and vigour that speaks of a new life about to burst into the world to bring it the assurance of redemption and victory over sin.
How, then, can we become aware of our own guardian angel to say nothing of the wider ministry around us? The answer is to love God with all our being and to love our neighbour as ourself: These "two great commandments" (Mark 12.29-30) are our way to the fulfilled life, and in their pursuance as much of the intermediate dimension will be revealed to us as is right for us to know. To seek is not good enough in the spiritual life, for we have also to be inspired by the right motive. If our motive is merely to satisfy our curiosity or provide us with psychic power, we are much more likely to effect connection with the angels of darkness than those of light. This is the ever-present hazard confronting those who explore what they call spiritual reality in order simply to acquire greater knowledge. The process of this somewhat self-centred exploration is loosely called gnosticism, and it lays open a radical exploration of the intermediate dimension in order to acquire knowledge, and a possibly selfish power, over matters of life and death. Gnosis itself is simply spiritual knowledge, but if it is not pursued with humility and a desire to serve everyone else, it can degenerate into a self-willed grasping of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil that Adam and Eve were forbidden to eat. As I suggested in Chapter 7, God may have intended them to be seduced by the devil in order to awaken them to the full knowledge of themselves and the world, but we do not require this awakening process any longer, because we should be on the way back to paradise - but now as responsible adult members of the human race. Spiritual expertise, misnamed knowledge, in the hands of selfish humans soon shows itself in distracting psychic phenomena and the practice of magic (which incidentally is something of a different order from the sleight-of hand performed by so-called magicians); this is indeed the practical end of gnosticism.
A truly spiritual person would not be diverted by such a degraded and futile activity, simply because they would be moving in a very different field of experience. Indeed, once we know something of the heavenly banquet mentioned in various passages of the Bible, especially Luke 14.16-24, earthly fare (and here I allude to psychical phenomena) has a very bland taste. Another way of putting the same observation is, "Set your mind on Gods kingdom and his justice before everything else, and all the rest will come to you as well" (Matthew 6.33). This injunction of Jesus applies not only to the things of this world but also to hidden, or occult, matters that so easily become the domain of the antichrist, unless we treat them with chastity and reverence.
Nothing in God's creation is wrong by nature; it is what we humans do with it that makes it dangerous, or even depraved. I mentioned in Chapter 7 that even demonic spirits may be under obedience to evil humanity, and the first part of their redemption is to be freed from these predatory monsters. I am also reminded of Martin Buber's observation interpreting Hasidism (a mystical movement of Eastern European Jews starting in the eighteenth century): "There is no not-holy, there is only that which has not yet been hallowed, which has not been redeemed to its holiness." If a person is centred on God, and especially the person of Christ, they do not require a deep knowledge of hidden things; instead, these are shown to them as the occasion and necessity arises. A person who is not centred on the Divine tends to cling to fragments of esoteric doctrine rather like a drowning sailor hanging on to pieces of wreckage in a stormy sea.
The lives of a number of medieval saints have been punctuated by angelic encounters, the most outstanding of which have been those of Joan of Arc, who was inspired by the archangel Michael in her military campaigns to liberate France from English domination, and St Francis of Assisi, who had many meetings with angels in the course of his holy life. I must confess, however, that when I read the history of some of the saints of yore and the angelic helpers that appeared repeatedly in the course of their work, I begin to feel a trifle uneasy, even irritated. This reaction could certainly be one of deep-seated envy, but I dislike displays of exhibitionism, especially of a religious type.
If one is sensitive to the deeper moral issues of any one period, one will not fail to hear the inner voice of one's own guardian angel. Therefore the essential requirement for angelic communication is the practice of silence, an unstudied silence in which one can be absolutely available to the demands of the present moment, the passing scene. Such a silence makes one alert to what God wants of one, and the information is transmitted by an angel, whether one's own guardian, or another one, or both acting together (I would not care to conjecture on this.) This is why the sentimental accounts of angelic visitations in the past, or for that matter the present, to especially holy people do not especially attract me. If one is the recipient of angelic communication, it is certainly wiser to conceal the matter lest one becomes arrogant, believing one is holier than the rest of humanity.
There may be special occasions when a disclosure is important, but one should be aware of what one is doing. It is quite in order to discuss an apparition with an expert in the field so as to set one's mind at rest, because there is always the possibility that one is mentally disturbed and the angelic figure is really a pathological type of hallucination. The general demeanour of the person who has had the apparition is a good working guide in this matter of discernment. If there is a degree of psychic inflation, with the person thinking that they are especially important in the scheme of things, it is more probable that they are being afflicted by a demonic spirit - in other words, an angel of darkness.
After Jesus had performed his many healing miracles, he requested the grateful person to present himself or herself to the priest, and make the offering laid down by Moses for their cleansing (Leviticus 14.1-32), as in the case of so-called leprosy (Mark 1.40-4), but he enjoined them to tell no one else. Hence Mark's Gospel is sometimes especially associated with the "messianic secret", though this is encountered in Matthew and Luke also. This type of secrecy is good when one has had a deep spiritual experience - let it be known only to one's immediate circle, and then let the matter drop, except of course from one's own memory. Mary herself treasured in her heart all the things that happened to Jesus during his stay at home when he was preparing for his great ministry (Luke 2.51). Yet in the end it was brought to a glorious fulfilment in his ministry, passion, death, and resurrection. In other words, the validity of an angelic encounter is proved by the subsequent life of the individual; the same applies to any truly spiritual experience. A psychic experience makes one wonder, and this is potentially a very good thing, but a spiritual experience transforms one into something of the holiness that is an impress of the Divine on the soul.
It is an invariable rule that the class of contemplative who has seen angels of light must also be prepared to be accosted by demonic spirits. This rule depends on the innate sensitivity of the person. It must be said also that some distinctly worldly people have an innate psychic sensitivity that makes them easy victims of demonic assault; the work of the spiritual director with such people is to open them to the spiritual dimension of reality, so that what started as a grave problem can eventually become a major blessing. People on the path of spiritual development must be prepared to be assaulted by demonic forces. This is not merely a malicious prank on the part of these forces, but also an indication of the work ahead of such people. The forces of darkness, I believe, seek their own salvation, which they may indeed attain when their work in the advancement of the universe has been completed. It is very unpleasant to be assailed by a demonic spirit, as I indicated in Chapter 7, but one does not lose if one keeps one's faith and remains courageous. Just as we do not grow physically on a diet of water, so our spiritual development depends on our mastery of the various elements in our physical and psychical environment. St Paul found his Corinthian converts so unspiritual that he had, figuratively, to feed them on milk rather than solid food. He had to deal with them on the natural plane, as infants in Christ. They were not ready for the solid food of spiritual doctrine because they were still full of jealousy, strife, and partisanship (1 Corinthians 3.1-4). A little pain adds the age of experience rapidly to one's score of years.
In the eighty-fourth dialogue of Talking with Angels, there is the provoking teaching: "Suffering teaches nothing and suffering does not redeem. There is no need for suffering." On the surface this sounds quite wrong, because we learn by experience, and suffering is a most important part of our own reaction to unpleasant circumstances. But the solution to this seeming paradox soon follows: "Blows and punishment need not be: suffering need not be! Giving of oneself, sacrifice, extinguishes it. This is the most sacred Grace." The italicized portion is as in the original. Demonic assault teaches one that one's life is a gift of God for the whole community. Recalling Hillel's aphorism once more, we are to care first of all for our own good, and then bequeath that accumulated good to our fellow creatures. If we are unwise enough to keep all our riches to ourselves, they are likely to turn cancerous. If we are wise, we remember William Blake's poem from Auguries of Innocence.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent;
It is right it should be so.
Man was made for joy and woe,
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy of silken twine.
This juxtaposition of good and bad is part of the nature of life: the bad pushes us onwards, while the good gives us a time of blessing and release when we can bestow our accumulated gifts on those around us. But were there no onward movement with all the toil it involves, there would be few gifts to provide at the end of the day. Therefore an authentic angelic recipient is fully aware of the dark side of life, as revealed by the demonic spirits. Furthermore, such a person is undeterred by the darkness and is able to spread the light ever more radiantly as their life progresses. The golden aureole that painters of olden times portrayed above the heads of the saints is a real depiction of this light. If one knows God, a knowledge never to be taken for granted by even the holiest person (not that such a person would ever make that assumption), one can always know of the light that transcends all darkness, of which we read in John 1.5, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never mastered it."
To see the cosmos as intrinsically friendly, even when we are apparently in mortal danger, is a great gift of understanding. It is our own fear and the hatred this engenders that is the real enemy. The cosmic forces are frequently terrifying in their intensity, but if we hold fast to God in unceasing prayer, we shall come through and be able to give our special gifts to the world. A state of unceasing prayer is one in which we are never far from the remembrance of God at any time of our life, day and night, waking and sleeping. Periods set aside specially for prayer are very important, since during this time we are able to come close to God by a deliberate giving of ourself and an openness to his grace. The more assiduously we practise this discipline, the sooner we will attain a state of unceasing prayer. The world's company of saints are our greatest inspiration as practitioners of prayer that fulfils itself in service to the community, which may vary from works of charity to ceaseless intercession for all God's creatures.
I like the observation by Goethe: "Even Mme de Staël was shocked because I had made God the Father so friendly to the Devil... What will she say if she meets him again in a higher sphere, perhaps even in heaven itself?" The basis of this remark was the drama Faust, immortalized, if not created, by Goethe. A consideration of this theme is contained in an observation made by F Melian Stawell and G. Lowes Dickinson:
Faust reacts and reaches safety, not only in spite of, but actually because of, Mephistopheles' influence. For Mephistopheles, though he revolts against the light, is all the same, as he knows himself, a portion of "the Darkness that brought the Light to birth". And that is one reason why, as the drama proceeds and Faust begins to learn, Mephistopheles appears less and less as the tempter and more and more as the instrument of Faust's creative purpose. He bets with God in the Prologue that he will destroy Faust, but from the very beginning it is made clear that he will not win his bet. For by his fundamental nature he cannot help contributing to Faust's progress.
The fate of the world, maybe even the universe, depends on God's central piece, the human. No one can shrug off the appalling evil humans have committed against their own kind, against nature, and ultimately against themselves personally. If they progress on their own without reference to God, however he may be named, the more certain is their self-destruction. If, on the other hand, they are open to the intermediate dimension and the power of the Holy Spirit, they could experience a great leap forward. The end would be "Christ consciousness", which would lead to a liberation of the whole world from the shackles of mortality and its entry upon the "glorious liberty of the children of God", to quote Romans 8.21 once more. The sooner we are brave enough to extend the range of human knowledge from the limits of the reasoning mind and are open to larger possibilities relating to angels and all that pertains to them, the more rapidly will we be able to move onwards towards the vision of God from whom all blessings flow. Then indeed a new race of humans will appear, true representatives all in their own way of the Lord Jesus himself.