Gabriel's Story - 2 February 2020

The room was dark, but it wasn’t silent. Tearing at the void was the alternating whisper of uncontrollable sobbing one moment followed by the soul piercing sound of agonizing screams the next. Even listening closely, it was impossible to discern if the sounds were coming from a man or a woman, or even if they were human. As the cries continued, the air was increasingly burdened by the heaviness of combat with its sour sweat and tears, and the putrid mixture of blood and death.

Crash!

Thud!

The Archangel Michal stood silently in the corner of the room, tears flowing steadily down his otherwise immaculate face. He understood the task. He even agreed with the task’s necessity. But he couldn’t escape the pain of watching helplessly. His righteous gaze tore through the darkness, revealing every tear in painfully acute detail as one of his charges fought for life in a battle in which Michael was forbidden from interfering. He didn’t flinch as one titanium prosthetic was flung at him, crashing through the bedroom window and landing loudly with a thud on the deck outside. The other leg lay in disarray, with the black leather dress shoe normally so well cared for laying untied, bloody, and hanging partly off its titanium insert. The locking mechanism at the top of the prosthetic was broken. It would need repaired. Under the shifting weight of the loose shoe, the prosthetic fell to the floor from its spot on the foot of the bed where it had originally landed after ricocheting off the wall.

Pastor Sean lay in a pile on the floor of his bedroom’s stained area rug, dress slacks eerily vacant, hanging empty at the bottom of his bloody knees. His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails cut deep into the palms of his hands. His agony was so complete that Sean had vomited more than once over the last few hours, this most recent time causing a tear in his esophagus that mixed bile with blood.

“Why!” In his horse voice the word was more an accusation than a question. “Why bring me here only to destroy the very congregation you brought me to tend?”

He slammed his fist into the floor, splashing fluids mixed with dirt onto his face and bed skirt. He didn’t care. Sean had been covered in worse.

He spun around on the rug and dragged his bloody body over to where Michael stood stoically. When he reached the angel’s tunic, he grabbed it with both hands and pulled himself up onto his knees, burying his face in Michael’s abdomen. Sobbing, he kept repeating the same question.

“Why?”

***---***

Across town, a handful of prayer warriors continued their assault on the powers of evil. Some read from various translations of the Holy Bible while others sat silently in prayer. Still others paced the floor of the sanctuary quoting one scripture and then another. Gabriel sat among them in a middle pew, powerless, without any idea of what to pray for or how to respond. He felt at peace and didn’t understand why. Shouldn’t I be praying, or leading a prayer, or yelling or something, he thought. Among the warriors in the room were some of the oldest, most mature Christians he knew. He also saw a few young Christians, their fire and passion on full display even if their angry cries had faded to whispers, but not before drawing stares of disapproval from most in the room. Missing were a handful of stalwarts formerly staunch members of the church, now either dead or dying. From the faces in the room, Gabriel felt they were losing the war.

“In your weakness I am strong.”

Gabriel looked up to find Lucifer himself standing in the midst of the saints – in the middle of the sanctuary. His face betrayed his surprise.

“That’s what He says, isn’t it?” Lucifer smiled.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” An elder of the church approached Lucifer unaware of the dark angel’s true self.

Gabriel sat stunned. He looked back and forth between the elder and Lucifer as if he was watching a slow, unavoidable train wreck. He tried to raise his hand, only to find it immobilized by an angel he had never seen. The angel held his finger to his lips to convey his intent before stepping back into the shadows.

“Why, Thomas. You know who I am.”

“I assure you I do not, sir.” The elderly man stopped less than two feet from the dark angel.

Lucifer smiled and looked at Gabriel. “I’m the man who delivers your special herbs for smoking. You know, the one with the funny name?”

The elder gasped.

The praying stopped.

“Get out!” A young woman whose fire still burned inside stood up from her position at the altar and charged toward Lucifer with abandon. “Satan get thee out of this house of God!”

Lucifer laughed and spoke with a soft, gentile tone that disarmed even Gabriel. “No.” He crossed his arms across his chest in protest. “I don’t have to leave because I was invited.”

The silence in the room was broken by a collective gasp as everyone looked suspiciously at everyone else. Gabriel could imagine the accusations in each of their minds – was it Thomas or Virginia, Jason or Anne, was it Gabriel? What he didn’t understand was why he was being prevented from acting. He knew he had the faith and that gave him the authority to evict Lucifer with one word, but he wasn’t allowed to. Why?

Gabriel watched as the fallen angel walked with authority past the prayer warriors. He jumped up on the altar, kicking a box of tissues off the end, and sat down in the center with an irreverent thud. “No doubt you are all asking yourselves which one of you invited me to your little soiree.” He leaned over, picked up a stray box of tissues, and removed one pretending to dry his nonexistent tears. “I’ll let you off the hook. It was none of you in this room.”

“Then who?” Thomas took a single expectant step toward Lucifer, his Bible clenched close to his chest as if it would protect his heart in battle.

“You mean, whom.”

“What?” An elderly woman at the back seemed to just now join the conversation.

“I said, from whom did I receive the invitation.”

“Who invited you!” Thomas was angry now.

Lucifer took a second to look each man and woman in the eye. In that short timespan Gabriel felt the angel touch his shoulder. The warmth of the touch was at first comforting and soothing, but the longer the angel held on the hotter his grip seemed to get. Gabriel felt the power surge through his body, from his shoulder across his chest, up his neck and into his face, down his torso and legs and all the way to his toes. The heat from the power was almost unbearable. When he couldn’t withstand the angel’s touch any longer, he stood.

“God invited him here.”

Another collective gasp was heard as Gabriel made the announcement. He didn’t scream nor did he speak with passion. His statement was businesslike, devoid of passion but sincere.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

All heads turned toward Lucifer who stood and applauded loudly from the altar. “Bravo, Gabriel. Bravo.” He jumped down from the altar and made his way to where Gabriel stood.

Lucifer stopped with his nose just inches from Gabriel’s face. He peered deep into Gabriel’s eyes, but Gabriel didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked back with an equal intensity that unsettled everyone in the sanctuary.

“Before you say anything more, permit me one final word, will you.”

Gabriel waited, but when the angel didn’t intervene, he allowed Satan’s request. “Go on, and then be gone.”

“Fine.” Lucifer headed for the door of the sanctuary, as if he was making a cinematic exit. “He said,” he pointed skyward, “when you are weak He is strong. But what He never tells you is why He made you weak in the first place.”

Lucifer swung open the double doors to the sanctuary and left, his laugh echoing throughout the mostly empty church. In his wake the shocked parishioners looked at each other before settling on Gabriel, who stood silently in the middle.

“Where’s Pastor Sean?” The elderly lady who had been sitting in the back stood up suddenly and marched forward without her walker. Her strong, steady ankles belied her nearly ninety years.

“I assume he’s at home, Ms. Mabel.” Thomas stepped forward to meet her, obviously taken aback by her agility in the moment.

Ms. Mabel held her finger up and pointed at Gabriel. “Go get him. He needs you.”