Date
Sunday, April 30, 2006

"Where Angels Strengthen"
If you need help from God, ask for it!

Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Text: Luke 22:39-46


There was a great tradition in my family where every single night one or both of my parents would sit me down at bedtime and recite the same prayer. It is a prayer that some of you might be familiar with in some version, and it is a prayer that I will never forget. It went as follows:

Lord, keep me safe this night,
Secure from all my fears.
May angels guard me while I sleep,
Till morning light appears.

Many times throughout my life I have thought of that prayer. When other prayers have not come to mind in times of distress or difficulty, not even all the great and glorious prayers from the annals of church history I have always remembered my bedtime prayer.

I remember the night when my mother was dying, and words were failing me. I did not know what to say or to pray for, but it was the prayer that she had prayed with me so many, many nights beside my bed, that I prayed for her on her last night.

There is something very powerful in those words. What is it? Why do they grasp you and hold you? Why are they embedded in your memory? Why is it that when I have encountered difficulties, sleepless nights, moments of distress, had to face great challenges or to make great decisions, “Lord keep me safe this night” has been the one prayer that I have prayed?

I think it has something to do with the line: “May angels guard me while I sleep.” Even on the edge of consciousness, when the mind is not fully alert or awake to what is going on, there is this sense in this prayer of a divine, glorious, beautiful, holy presence that is there for you, even when your mind is not aware of it: “May angels guard you while you sleep.”

What are these angels? And why today, of all days, when we are receiving new members into our church, would I want to bring up the whole issue of angels, of all things? How bizarre, it might appear! Yet, throughout the Scriptures, there is a tremendous sense of the presence and the power of angels that is beyond our comprehension but yet is very real and very powerful and very sincere.

In the time that is known in Old Testament history as the pre-Exilic period, the time between Creation and the Exile of the Jews in Babylon, we read about angels being present at key moments in the lives and traditions of many of the great biblical characters. We find that the angels, when they appear, come as messengers from God. They come as direct agents of God's holy will and purpose. After all, it was believed that anyone who saw God would die: That was the teaching of the books of Moses; that was in the whole of the first five books of the Bible. Therefore, if God was to communicate with humanity, God would need a messenger, an intermediary, an emissary to speak on God's behalf.

The way in which the people in the Old Testament understood this was through the ministry of angels. At key moments, for instance, when Abraham needed guidance, or Hagar needed inspiration, or Gideon needed strength, we read that angels were present to help them. In the Book of Job, probably the earliest book written in the whole of the Bible, Job ascribes to angels their very presence as witnesses of Creation: Job says angels were there from the very beginning; these spiritual entities were present even at the moment of Creation.

Now, when the Exile came, when Israel was forced into captivity by the Babylonians, angels took on a different manifestation. They became almost human-like, taking on the quality of a person. In the Book of Ezekiel, for example, the prophet describes angels as if he was describing human beings. In the Book of Daniel, written at a time when the people of Israel were distressed and distraught, Daniel had a vision of God's activity in the end times, and it included an angel with a name. Listen to what it says in Daniel, Chapter 8: “When I, Daniel, had seen the vision, I tried to understand it. Then, someone appeared standing before me, having the appearance of a man. And I heard a human voice by the Ulai, calling, ”˜Gabriel, help this man understand the vision.' So, he came near where I stood, and when he came, I became frightened and fell prostrate. But he said to me, ”˜Understand, O mortal, that the vision is for the time of the end.'”

Daniel, then, ascribes to an angel this sense of the presence of God. He calls this angel by a name, Gabriel. It is the personification, in other words, of the messenger. Later on in the Old Testament, in the tradition of rabbinical teaching, there was what was known as “guardian angels.” These were the overseers of Israel. It was their job to make sure that Israel was protected and strong. They guarded it, nurtured it and protected it. That is where we get the term “guardian angel” from. It is the presence of these angels that supported the people of Israel.

In the New Testament, we have many accounts of angels. These share a couple of key characteristics. The first is that, like in the Old Testament, angels are messengers of God. At key times, at moments of decision or pain or suffering or temptation, angels are present. But, they are also - and this is so important - ministering to humanity. They are not only messengers, they are also ministers. Where there was a need for strength, where there was a need for courage, the angels were present.

The Apostle Paul did warn that there were some fallen angels, and we should be very, very careful not to make angels gods, not to make them little deities. There is only one God. But the angels are a manifestation of God's ministry and mission to humanity: to strengthen, to support, to nurture, to educate and to guide. Clearly, throughout the Scriptures, these angels are present.

Now, we are living in an age when people want guidance; when they are hungry for some source of power and strength in their lives. One need only read the myriad of self-help books in the bookstore. They all talk about finding psychic resources from within and finding untapped strength otherwise hidden. While it is true that we need to find internal resources and strength in our lives, so often, this is no different than the teachings of the Stoics, of Zero and Cleanthes and others, who just said to look within for strength. In both the Old Testament and the New Testament, however, there is a sense of strength that comes not just from within, but from without: from an emissary, a messenger from God.

So, how are we, today, to understand angels in our lives? Are we to see an angel under every pillow? Are we to see an angel under every coin? Are we to see all these spiritual beings, and go around telling people that we are seeing them? Well, probably not. I think, rather, what James S. Stewart, the great Scottish preacher, suggested is perhaps more fitting and true, but nevertheless just as powerful: Angels do strengthen us, but sometimes the angels are actually manifested in the reading of Scripture.

If angels are, as the Bible says, the “angelus” the messengers from God, then the Bible becomes like an angel for us. After all, we read the story of Jesus when he was on the Mount of Olives the day before he was to be executed, and he is going through such great travails and miseries, and we read that he knelt and he prayed to his Father, and an angel of the Lord came and strengthened him. The disciples, on the other hand, were spending all their time looking down, all their time sleeping, unaware, and they were not ministered to.

The Scriptures show that if we turn to God and pray, God can illuminate us. I would suggest that the Scriptures can illuminate our lives if we pray and open ourselves to them. Take, for example, the case of the great Martin Luther. He had gone through a personal crisis: He had lost one of his very good friends, and he was mourning. Then he was nearly hit by lightning, and that really sent a shiver down his spine! He felt guilt; he didn't feel assured, and he didn't know what to do. He was tormented within his soul, and he could not find the resources from within to strengthen him for the challenges that lay ahead of him. Then, he started reading the Scriptures again, suddenly in a new way, and he read words like, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” For the Apostle Paul speaking, as it were, over fifteen hundred years before, Luther, the Word gave him strength as if, he said, “an angel had spoken to me.” He opened the Scriptures - and there it was!

Now, I think we have to be careful. I do not agree with Garry Trudeau, who does those wonderful Doonsbury cartoons, although I love his work. In one cartoon panel, he said, “Man, in serving God, can only do as angels do, and wing it!” Sometimes, when we are serving God, all we can do is “wing it,” but there are other times when we can be deliberate about it; when we can open up the Scriptures and we can allow them to speak to us. One of the great things missing in the life of the Christian community today is the permission and room to allow the Scriptures to be an angel to us; to speak to us in a way that only the power of God can do - not just as a book with flat pages, but as a passionate testimony to God's gracious love.

However, angels come to us in another sense. They come to us and they strengthen us through our fellow human beings. Now, I think we have to be very careful not to deify ourselves and turn ourselves into little gods. We are not little gods, but we can become messengers of God, and other people can be messengers of God to us.

Some time ago, I was speaking to a friend of mine who, for the last few years, had been acting strangely. He had been very happy all the time: everything was happy, everything was giddy and silly and stupid. If you tried to have a meaningful conversation with him, it turned into a joke. If you tried to talk about world affairs, or the devastations on the sub-continent of southern Africa, he just made light of it. He was unreasonable, silly and stupid.

After a while, I saw him again. This time, he was balanced: He was serious when he should be serious; he was frivolous when he should be frivolous; he was back to being his normal self. I asked him what had happened, and why he had changed. I said, “I like what I see,” and, “I had been worried about you.”

He said, “Well, actually, one day, I took my car to a gas station, and I put the nozzle in and I pulled the handle, and I just left it there, and soon gas was gushing all over the place. I didn't think anything of it - it was a little bit of gas, so what? But then, a young man came over to me and looked me in the eye, and said to me, ”˜Sir, you have a problem.' I replied, ”˜Sure, I have a little bit of a problem - gas spilling over,' and the young man said, ”˜No, you have a drinking problem. You are an alcoholic, sir.'”

This young man had smelled his breath and looked in his eye and watched his behaviour. My friend was furious! “How can you say that to me? Who are you to tell me that I am an alcoholic? What right do you have to tell me something like that? You are wrong! You are wrong! Anyway, how do you know?”

The young man said, “Because I am an alcoholic, and I recognize one when I see one, and sir, you are one.”

My friend went home, attended an AA meeting, and by the grace of God, sorted his life out. He said, “This young man, for me, was an angel!”

Sometimes, we are God's emissaries, and sometimes, others can be God's emissaries to us. Sometimes, God speaks through the Scriptures in a way that takes human form. (Now, I don't want all of you going around and saying, “Look at me! I am an angel!”)

I like G. K. Chesterton's advice when we start thinking in such terms. He said, and I quote from Orthodoxy, “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.” That does not mean that we are to take ourselves so lightly that we cannot see ourselves as God's emissaries. But sometimes we are, and sometimes, others are for us. And when they are, it is powerful, and it can change our lives. There is also a sense in Scripture that angels not only strengthen us through the Word, and they not only strengthen us through each other, but most especially, they strengthen us through the presence of the risen Christ himself.

In one of the most beautiful moments in the whole of Scripture, in John 20, Mary Magdalene is going to the tomb to prepare the body of Jesus, and we read the following: “But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb, and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head, and the other at the feet. They said to her ”˜Woman, why are you weeping?' She said to them, ”˜They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.' When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did now know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, ”˜Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?' Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ”˜Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.' Jesus said to her, ”˜Mary, Mary.'” He came to her like an angel.

I believe that Christ, still comes to us in unexpected ways and unexpected moments in the risen power of his Spirit. No amount of analysis of how this happens can possibly convey the power of it, but you need to be ready for it, and that is where faith comes in.

A number of years ago, I was walking along what is known as the Backs at Cambridge, England, looking for Westminster College, the college of the P.C., but, I was lost; I couldn't find it. I found myself outside of Trinity College, where Prince Charles had studied instead. If any of you know Cambridge, you know you have to go through the colleges to get to the main street in the town so you can get your bearings. However, as I went to walk through Trinity College, the security guards stopped me and wouldn't allow me through: They said that I had to go around the ring road and all the way back. I said, “I am lost!” They said, “We don't care! Carry on.”

So, anyway, I continued to walk along the Backs in what turned out to be the wrong direction, and found myself at King's College, a glorious, wonderful edifice. By this time, I was so fed up that, as men rarely do, I decided to ask for directions. I came across this very nice man, and I said, “Sir, I wonder if you can help me? I am looking for Westminster College. Can you give me some directions?”

This man said, “Sure, I will tell you where to go: You go here, you go around the ring road, you go around the round-about, you turn right, and there it is!”

I said, “Thank you very much, and by the way, what is you name?”

He said, “My name is Donald.”

I said, “That-a-boy, Don, thank you very much indeed! I really appreciate this! Ciao!” And I went on my way.

The next day, I opened the Times of London, and there was a picture of the man I had been talking to. His name was Donald Coggan, the Archbishop of Canterbury. And I had called him “Don”! I went home and told my uncle, and he said, “You are a right fool, aren't you, Stirling? You had this great opportunity to talk to one of the great religious minds of all time, but you just said “Thanks Don. Ciao! I am on my way!”

I think our encounters with Jesus are sometimes just like that. I think that there are moments when we just miss the opportunity to talk; when we miss the opportunity to pray. After all, when Jesus was on the Mount of Olives and got on his knees and prayed, an angel appeared, even to the Son of God. So it is with us. If we desire to have angels strengthen us, then we have to pray. We have to open ourselves to God's presence in faith. This is the great challenge of our life. This is the great challenge of our faith. I hope you will be able to say at night, as I say at night:

Lord keep me safe this night,
Secure from all my fears.
May angels guard me while I sleep,
Till morning light appears.

Because he does! Amen.


This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.