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Topic: Where Angels Fear to Tread (not about the book) (09/08/11)
- TITLE: The Remaining Two-Thirds
By Ebony Murdoch
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No one said “good morning,” in heaven because there was no night. No one watched the clock, because there was no time. But somewhere between everlasting and everlasting; between the delicate gleam of one glory and the piercing brilliance of another, evil came to be.
Lucifer looked intently toward the throne of God, eyes glancing sideways and down, mouth tilted slightly upward. It was just a thought—a single idea no more significant to mortal eyes than a fleck of dust descending in sunlight. Millions of angels sensed it as they went about their celestial tasks. Faithful morning stars continued to sing for joy, not willing to look away, as the contagion of sin began to spread, infesting the ranks one spirit at a time.
“Did you see that?”
Doyen lifted one wing and looked at his fellow messenger.
“That strange look on Lucifer over there.”
“What could it mean? Could something go wrong?”
“Nothing has ever gone wrong, Victor. If something does go wrong, the Almighty will execute His perfect justice. There is nothing we can do. We have our orders. ”
Doyen ducked behind his wings and resumed worship.
“Wait, wait. He’s getting ready to speak.”
The two looked on as the gorgeously arrayed cherub motioned for silence. Some ceased their worship and began to lift their wings in agreement. God had not commanded this silence, so the remainder of the host (two-thirds, to be precise), kept speaking His praises, even as events unfolded.
Lucifer’s words were pregnant with self-confident boasting, selfish ambition and vainglory. (The holy host could not fathom his motives, for they only spoke the language of obedience to God.) One by one, the rebels’ wingtips grew dark and coarse; their hearts calcified into something like flesh, then into something like stone, weighing them down so that they moved with great difficulty. Their glory was fading; flickering now like candles without oxygen. Growing bolder now, they uncovered their faces.
The holy host reaffirmed their allegiance to God and praised Him even more. What a lesson! A thought had grown into a desire, which in turn became a rebellion. It was a process—but one that took less than one second from start to finish.
Justice was indeed quick. It was as if God had opened an escape hatch in the floor of heaven, and down the devil fell, the only way you can fall in a realm without gravity. It looked a lot like lightning, and that’s the way the Son described it to men who questioned His preexistence. Sonic booms ricocheted for galaxies and all created beings heard his shrieks and yells. He spiraled through the heavens, the shrapnel of his former brilliance flying everywhere at random.
There would be no repentance for them. Doyen, Victor, and the others turned from watching the horror of his fall and spoke even more of God’s majesty and splendor. Then they leaned in, brimming with curiosity, as He fixed up the earth below where their former comrade had fallen. He took some clay, molded it into a man, and then breathed into its nostrils. He called that creature Adam, and walked with him in the cool of the day.
They had not seen the last of the fallen cherub. They were now enlisted in a battle of eternal proportions, against one who had become the epitome of all that God hates; a picture of the inevitable destruction that must come on all who oppose Him. It was not long before the devil had inspired rebellion among humanity as well. Yet the Father and Son had decided to redeem them, for reasons Doyen and Victor just could not understand.
Celestial messengers lined up to receive their assignments, for they would be ministers to those who would inherit salvation.
[1.] Isa. 6:3, KJV
[2.] Ezek. 1:6, KJV
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