lwalters2
02-17-2008, 09:44 PM
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Consider for a moment the sovereignty of God. He begins life and takes it away. What do you think would happen if He allowed government to take over the job for a while? In this story we consider these possibilities good and bad as death goes on holiday.
Angelo the Littlest Death Angel
Welcome class of 07. This banner above the gym door heralded the graduating class in a most unusual place, heaven. It marked the completion of the fall session at Heaven’s Gate, an academy for angels on assignment to earth. The final exam was taking place in the center ring, a test of mortal combat. Both combatants have a corner for their coaches to encourage them while awaiting the outcome. In the angel’s corner however sat no one. His coach had left already to prepare the graduation hall, somewhat confident of the outcome, the defeat of his last cadet of the day.
“Alright, give me the last contestant,” yelled the ref.
“Judges, who shall our last warrior of the day face?”
The judges confer for a moment and announce, “Goliath.”
At the ringside appears a smiling Goliath, summoned from the depths of hell.
Both male combatants entered the ring.
“OK, you both know the rules. The angel must kill his opponent without physical force of any kind. You have one minute to kill Goliath.
“Goliath, (Goliath grunts to acknowledge his name), you have no rules. Let the contest begin.”
But one lone voice echoed encouragement from the bleachers.
“Fear not little buddy;” yelled Tau. Tau was a combat hardened veteran, one of the most respected angels in heaven.
“How odd,” thought the smaller combatant, he could feel pain yet not be killed, what irony. His head still rang from yesterday’s irony. Goliath was a merciless opponent. Goliath or what was left of him had been summoned from the Abyss. Several times today he had come forth, sometimes to victory, sometimes the agony of defeat.
The bell sounded and the wrestlers cautiously circled each other, looking for advantage.
“You’ve got to whip the great Goliath to graduate angel scum. Not likely for you, little weenie; you’re the smallest loser of my day. I’ll be hauled back to the abyss, but who cares? It’s been a great day here, what’s not to love? Hey angel boy, I’ll rip your head off and use your curly blonde locks to wipe my butt. I’ve got three thousand year old dingle-berries. You’ll graduate to be my personal butt cleaning angel. How’s that sound?”
Goliath sneered, revealing something rotten sticking out of his yellowed front teeth. The angel was distracted more by the teeth than the threats. It was enough distraction for Goliath to reach in fast and grab his opponent’s throat. Despite his nine foot height this monster was extremely agile and powerful. His sausage sized fingers wrapped around the angel’s neck, almost cutting off his air supply. In a moment Goliath meant to strangle the life out of his foe.
“Th, th, the L-Lord rebuke you”, stammered the angel. He remembered the Bible book of Jude. Goliath knew the verse well.
“I’ll show you the L-Lo….” But his voice trailed off. The angel looked up to see the face of his tormentor. His eyes grew to plate size as they rolled back up into his head. Goliath sank to his knees as though stoned by King David himself. He still gripped the angel’s throat with an iron grasp, dragging them both to the mat. Goliath fell forward atop the angel, trapping him beneath his enormous frame. The ref came over and started the count.
“One”, he slapped the mat. No one but the angel realized the plight of both combatants, Goliath was dead and the angel was pinned by him.
As for Goliath, though his body was on the mat, his soul was back in the abyss surrounded by his oppressive keepers. Usually they began whipping up on him immediately. He was their champion and if he lost there was no mercy, not in this place. But instead, the dark angels were silent as the approaching shadow of the evil one fell across their faces. Goliath looked up to see Satan’s face, what a contradiction he thought. It was the most beautiful visage imaginable, the curly brown hair, adorable dimples on his cheeks and even perfect white teeth. His thought was interrupted by the dragon like voice.
“Why did that little piss ant win,” demanded the lord of hell?
Speechless at first, Goliath thought for a moment and then said: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it…” but his recital was cut short by the flames shooting from those adorable baby blue eyes. The flesh on his arm began to sear and pop. Satan was not especially fond of having his minions recite the Bible to him. It was his way to remind Goliath of his hot displeasure, and to help with the knowing, a horde of demons leaped on him at once, hammering away at his flesh.
“Mercy”, he cried. But that was the other thing that made all hell angry, for there was no mercy in hell.
“But why,” wondered the devil, did that little angel defeat this enormous hunk of flesh? Goliath trashed far more menacing opponents than him, even today. What was going on here?
“Two”, shouted the ref.
The little angel struggled under the giant’s dead arm.
“If I can get my other hand under his arm, I can move him off my chest.” And to the stunned amazement of onlookers in the bleachers, he rolled the dead warrior over and stood up. Gaping mouths revealed that no one had expected this outcome. Did a stuttered Bible verse kill Great Goliath of Gath? Much speculation was whispered around. But the angel had won the day, by whatever means. The ref hoisted his arm and declared him victorious.
“With that fall, you have passed the course and earned the rank and grade “Angel-O”.
“My name is Angelo,” wondered the amazed winner? “Thanks, ref; wow they gave me a name”.
“Angel-O”, screamed the ref; “as in zero, goose egg”, but cheering from the stands drowned out his voice.
“That’s incredible; I must have done a much better job than I thought”, Angelo patted himself on the back. Angels were ordinarily given an Alpha-numeric value in the Hebrew language indicating rank and file like his friend Tau. Higher letters equaled more importance, but he had been given an actual name, only the greatest angels of all time had a name, like Gabriel or Michael.
He of course had not at all understood what the ref meant. All the blows he received from Goliath in training may have loosened something in his brain, or maybe the ignominy of it all just refused to sink in between his ears. The number “0” hadn’t been assigned until this point in time, because it was considered too low, a humiliation.
The ref motioned for silence, “You will now all report to graduation immediately for re-assignment on earth,” and with those words he dismissed the class of 07. The ref didn’t continue further, Angelo and the class had left.
“He’ll find out at graduation anyway.”
As his fellow upperclassmen flowed toward the hall, he had solace in his heart. “Now at last, I can put this stupid class in the past.” Yes, Angelo, the smallest angel has feelings too, and they were stretched to the breaking point right now. He was made aware on a daily basis that he didn’t have the right stuff for this line of work. Most of his classes were extremely physical and quite dangerous. The nature of the course he had undertaken was designed to either empower its students or break their will to continue further. And he had just now come closer than anyone before him to flunking the final exam in Deadly Conduct 101, hence the number 0 suffixed to his title. None of his efforts in class had ever seemed worthy.
Worthy or no, this last test was a pre-requisite for all angels of his heavenly calling, an Angel of Death, a business he was already dying to leave behind.
As they arrived at the hall, an arm surrounded him in support.
“Way to go warrior, you passed the test”. Tau, his best buddy was always in his corner. “You made it out and that’s all that counts in God’s books”.
Angelo wondered aloud, “How in the world did I endure this torture?” There were many near disasters in his career right from the start. He reasoned with Tau; “even you can’t deny my lack of aptitude for this profession.”
“You know we were all summoned here,” said his friend. “None of us chose this profession, as in all things we must do His bidding”.
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re three feet taller than Goliath”. Tau laughed, and Angelo continued.
“That’s all true,” said Tau, “but don’t forget it’s the size of your heart that counts. Most of those opponents towered over me. And all you need is a little more heart.” Tau was a herald, one of the most powerful, but Angelo didn’t realize, Tau’s power was a victory not a gift.
As the graduating class was seated, he looked around and noticed how small he was next to his larger, sleeker counterparts. This solitary glimpse of reality left. His weary mind was too tired to take it all in. A new fantasy ushered itself in with the thought, “Where in the world will I be assigned”; a very good question for him to muse as he relaxed a bit.
“Angel-0”, a pause and then again louder came the summons, “Angel-0”;
The Dean’s voice sounded with more vigor the second time. Tau nudged Angelo’s sore ribs summoning him to the real world, followed by glares from all around him; he had not heard the caller’s request. He sprang to his feet, rising in form to the podium, eager to serve in the army of God. But he was assigned to a most un-glorious station.
“Beverly Hills, California, United States”, said the Dean, clutching his hand, “and congratulations old boy, I know you were challenged in your course of study. May you excel as none before.”
A groan barely escaped his lips, not heard by all around. Angelo stood paralyzed in disbelief. He was so disappointed that the match with Goliath paled in comparison to this. Accepting the Dean’s hand he smiled weakly as if to say “just shoot me now, please” and scurried off the stage. He was at a loss to explain the humiliation of his station assignment and made an exit of the hall with the greatest speed possible. Outside he was very sad. What few dreams he held were now shattered and lying at his feet.
“How could they assign me to such a lowly post?” Tau found him and tried to comfort him, but this solace was just beyond Angelo’s grasp, no words could cushion this awful blow. Sure, humans would love a trip to Beverly Hills, but not a death angel. His goal in life was to escort souls to glory. How many would he find here? Answer: they were few and far between.
Angelo the Littlest Death Angel
Welcome class of 07. This banner above the gym door heralded the graduating class in a most unusual place, heaven. It marked the completion of the fall session at Heaven’s Gate, an academy for angels on assignment to earth. The final exam was taking place in the center ring, a test of mortal combat. Both combatants have a corner for their coaches to encourage them while awaiting the outcome. In the angel’s corner however sat no one. His coach had left already to prepare the graduation hall, somewhat confident of the outcome, the defeat of his last cadet of the day.
“Alright, give me the last contestant,” yelled the ref.
“Judges, who shall our last warrior of the day face?”
The judges confer for a moment and announce, “Goliath.”
At the ringside appears a smiling Goliath, summoned from the depths of hell.
Both male combatants entered the ring.
“OK, you both know the rules. The angel must kill his opponent without physical force of any kind. You have one minute to kill Goliath.
“Goliath, (Goliath grunts to acknowledge his name), you have no rules. Let the contest begin.”
But one lone voice echoed encouragement from the bleachers.
“Fear not little buddy;” yelled Tau. Tau was a combat hardened veteran, one of the most respected angels in heaven.
“How odd,” thought the smaller combatant, he could feel pain yet not be killed, what irony. His head still rang from yesterday’s irony. Goliath was a merciless opponent. Goliath or what was left of him had been summoned from the Abyss. Several times today he had come forth, sometimes to victory, sometimes the agony of defeat.
The bell sounded and the wrestlers cautiously circled each other, looking for advantage.
“You’ve got to whip the great Goliath to graduate angel scum. Not likely for you, little weenie; you’re the smallest loser of my day. I’ll be hauled back to the abyss, but who cares? It’s been a great day here, what’s not to love? Hey angel boy, I’ll rip your head off and use your curly blonde locks to wipe my butt. I’ve got three thousand year old dingle-berries. You’ll graduate to be my personal butt cleaning angel. How’s that sound?”
Goliath sneered, revealing something rotten sticking out of his yellowed front teeth. The angel was distracted more by the teeth than the threats. It was enough distraction for Goliath to reach in fast and grab his opponent’s throat. Despite his nine foot height this monster was extremely agile and powerful. His sausage sized fingers wrapped around the angel’s neck, almost cutting off his air supply. In a moment Goliath meant to strangle the life out of his foe.
“Th, th, the L-Lord rebuke you”, stammered the angel. He remembered the Bible book of Jude. Goliath knew the verse well.
“I’ll show you the L-Lo….” But his voice trailed off. The angel looked up to see the face of his tormentor. His eyes grew to plate size as they rolled back up into his head. Goliath sank to his knees as though stoned by King David himself. He still gripped the angel’s throat with an iron grasp, dragging them both to the mat. Goliath fell forward atop the angel, trapping him beneath his enormous frame. The ref came over and started the count.
“One”, he slapped the mat. No one but the angel realized the plight of both combatants, Goliath was dead and the angel was pinned by him.
As for Goliath, though his body was on the mat, his soul was back in the abyss surrounded by his oppressive keepers. Usually they began whipping up on him immediately. He was their champion and if he lost there was no mercy, not in this place. But instead, the dark angels were silent as the approaching shadow of the evil one fell across their faces. Goliath looked up to see Satan’s face, what a contradiction he thought. It was the most beautiful visage imaginable, the curly brown hair, adorable dimples on his cheeks and even perfect white teeth. His thought was interrupted by the dragon like voice.
“Why did that little piss ant win,” demanded the lord of hell?
Speechless at first, Goliath thought for a moment and then said: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it…” but his recital was cut short by the flames shooting from those adorable baby blue eyes. The flesh on his arm began to sear and pop. Satan was not especially fond of having his minions recite the Bible to him. It was his way to remind Goliath of his hot displeasure, and to help with the knowing, a horde of demons leaped on him at once, hammering away at his flesh.
“Mercy”, he cried. But that was the other thing that made all hell angry, for there was no mercy in hell.
“But why,” wondered the devil, did that little angel defeat this enormous hunk of flesh? Goliath trashed far more menacing opponents than him, even today. What was going on here?
“Two”, shouted the ref.
The little angel struggled under the giant’s dead arm.
“If I can get my other hand under his arm, I can move him off my chest.” And to the stunned amazement of onlookers in the bleachers, he rolled the dead warrior over and stood up. Gaping mouths revealed that no one had expected this outcome. Did a stuttered Bible verse kill Great Goliath of Gath? Much speculation was whispered around. But the angel had won the day, by whatever means. The ref hoisted his arm and declared him victorious.
“With that fall, you have passed the course and earned the rank and grade “Angel-O”.
“My name is Angelo,” wondered the amazed winner? “Thanks, ref; wow they gave me a name”.
“Angel-O”, screamed the ref; “as in zero, goose egg”, but cheering from the stands drowned out his voice.
“That’s incredible; I must have done a much better job than I thought”, Angelo patted himself on the back. Angels were ordinarily given an Alpha-numeric value in the Hebrew language indicating rank and file like his friend Tau. Higher letters equaled more importance, but he had been given an actual name, only the greatest angels of all time had a name, like Gabriel or Michael.
He of course had not at all understood what the ref meant. All the blows he received from Goliath in training may have loosened something in his brain, or maybe the ignominy of it all just refused to sink in between his ears. The number “0” hadn’t been assigned until this point in time, because it was considered too low, a humiliation.
The ref motioned for silence, “You will now all report to graduation immediately for re-assignment on earth,” and with those words he dismissed the class of 07. The ref didn’t continue further, Angelo and the class had left.
“He’ll find out at graduation anyway.”
As his fellow upperclassmen flowed toward the hall, he had solace in his heart. “Now at last, I can put this stupid class in the past.” Yes, Angelo, the smallest angel has feelings too, and they were stretched to the breaking point right now. He was made aware on a daily basis that he didn’t have the right stuff for this line of work. Most of his classes were extremely physical and quite dangerous. The nature of the course he had undertaken was designed to either empower its students or break their will to continue further. And he had just now come closer than anyone before him to flunking the final exam in Deadly Conduct 101, hence the number 0 suffixed to his title. None of his efforts in class had ever seemed worthy.
Worthy or no, this last test was a pre-requisite for all angels of his heavenly calling, an Angel of Death, a business he was already dying to leave behind.
As they arrived at the hall, an arm surrounded him in support.
“Way to go warrior, you passed the test”. Tau, his best buddy was always in his corner. “You made it out and that’s all that counts in God’s books”.
Angelo wondered aloud, “How in the world did I endure this torture?” There were many near disasters in his career right from the start. He reasoned with Tau; “even you can’t deny my lack of aptitude for this profession.”
“You know we were all summoned here,” said his friend. “None of us chose this profession, as in all things we must do His bidding”.
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re three feet taller than Goliath”. Tau laughed, and Angelo continued.
“That’s all true,” said Tau, “but don’t forget it’s the size of your heart that counts. Most of those opponents towered over me. And all you need is a little more heart.” Tau was a herald, one of the most powerful, but Angelo didn’t realize, Tau’s power was a victory not a gift.
As the graduating class was seated, he looked around and noticed how small he was next to his larger, sleeker counterparts. This solitary glimpse of reality left. His weary mind was too tired to take it all in. A new fantasy ushered itself in with the thought, “Where in the world will I be assigned”; a very good question for him to muse as he relaxed a bit.
“Angel-0”, a pause and then again louder came the summons, “Angel-0”;
The Dean’s voice sounded with more vigor the second time. Tau nudged Angelo’s sore ribs summoning him to the real world, followed by glares from all around him; he had not heard the caller’s request. He sprang to his feet, rising in form to the podium, eager to serve in the army of God. But he was assigned to a most un-glorious station.
“Beverly Hills, California, United States”, said the Dean, clutching his hand, “and congratulations old boy, I know you were challenged in your course of study. May you excel as none before.”
A groan barely escaped his lips, not heard by all around. Angelo stood paralyzed in disbelief. He was so disappointed that the match with Goliath paled in comparison to this. Accepting the Dean’s hand he smiled weakly as if to say “just shoot me now, please” and scurried off the stage. He was at a loss to explain the humiliation of his station assignment and made an exit of the hall with the greatest speed possible. Outside he was very sad. What few dreams he held were now shattered and lying at his feet.
“How could they assign me to such a lowly post?” Tau found him and tried to comfort him, but this solace was just beyond Angelo’s grasp, no words could cushion this awful blow. Sure, humans would love a trip to Beverly Hills, but not a death angel. His goal in life was to escort souls to glory. How many would he find here? Answer: they were few and far between.