A thought about messengers

I've always loved that the word for angel comes from the Greek for messenger, άγγελοσ. It's always felt true that angels, those messengers from outside (or perhaps far inside) our day-to-day perceived realm, might be so beyond our current ken as to be terrifying. I have a poem with a line, "The angel's first words are 'Do not be afraid.'" It's a telling greeting.

All too often, we translate ignorance into fear into hatred. There's a connection between this and ideology and (un)holy wars, too. But what do we know about angels? And yet instead of angels being something we cannot comprehend and therefore hate, we have made them into tall people in long white robes with wings and halos. We've simplified them and humanized them, the way we apply human characteristics to animals. How far apart are angels hovering above us with harps and bull dogs playing poker?

I like Madeleine L'Engle's concept from A Wind in the Door of a cherubim being a compilation of wings, eyes, and spurts of flame and smoke. A creature with a voice like a cello.

There is so much we don't know, can't know. Yet. And most of us therefore don't think about it, while others (I'm not specifically singling you out, Josh) spend a lot of time thinking about the unknown. I could get lost there, too, and sometimes I regret spending so little time seeking enlightenment through the blossom of a weed or the swirl of steam over a teacup.

But even if I don't delve into mystery on a regular basis, I hope, I pray, that I will avoid reducing the sacred to pablum.