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The First Angel
RS Paxton
2/09
Deep in thought, involved in his defense, the angel was shackled to an outcrop of cliff overlooking a deep blue ocean covered by a pale azure sky whose only blemish was a small punctuation of the sun that hovered just above the distant horizon. He raised his right hand and pondered the iron anchor wrapped around his wrist and wondered how far the chain was buried in the earth, then turned back to his defense.
He had spoken the truth to no avail. His words had fell on deaf ears throughout the long ordeal and he knew truth was not a defense that would save his status. But if not the truth, then what remained? Whatever words were left to speak, would not be enough to sway the coming judgment for his behavior.
I cannot accept this, that I have came to be thus. Chained and denied, rendered impotent.
His majestic white feathered wings shuddered in the thought and a swell of rage surged like an ocean tide. He lifted his head toward the pale sky and uttered a muted curse, an insurance to keep it hidden. He had cursed openly in the past, and in fact, that had been how the ordeal had begun, with his curses directed at those who wore the Grace of God in such undeserving fashion. Those small minded human creatures that knew nothing of the God they followed, who violated every commandment given, and expected to sit next to God in this life. Next to God, in his place.
He could not formulate a defense other than a series of inglorious excuses because he did not understand.
What am I missing? It cannot be that God values these creatures more than I.
No defense, not even a shard of a broken coin to bargain with. All that was left was to rebuke God for his behavior, to remind his father that it was He, who held blame for the long ordeal which split Heaven asunder. The angel knew to rebuke and accuse would do no good, it had never done any good, even when all he had demanded was a simple answer.
Off on the horizon, the same Sun that came and went throughout the lives of all humans, remained constant here in his world, never venturing more than just above the endless water. Ever present, but dim and shallow, a far cry from earth and Heaven alike.
Forever dim, never ascending, as the sun, so too, am I
His thought was interrupted by a sensed presence behind. It’s time, and the first angel turned to face God, not ready, not willing to accept what was to come, but understanding there was no choice.
A strong, warm breeze swept over his features and swept his long, brown hair back over his broad shoulders just as he turned. As quickly as it came, the gust disappeared leaving a disquiet stillness that was amplified a thousand fold by the human standing before him.
What foolishness this way comes.
Naked, with fat stomach, ruddy, ugly face and short cropped, dirty blond hair, the human stood on thin, spindly legs and stared at him with the same vigor and intent he himself viewed the human.
“What manner of insult in this?” the first angel asked, not of the human, but of God, in a loud voice reinforced with severe disgust.
“Why am I an insult?” the human asked, quietly.
He fought his rage and demanded of himself the one thing he must forever possess, a sense of patience and control over all his sensibilities. The long ordeal could not have produced this, his behavior over the past eons could not lead here, where his father would forsake his being and send a human to voice judgment. And yet he continued to reel in rage but somehow managing to subdue that which was clearly evident. To even acknowledge the presence of the human was an unforgiving insult and his thought was to turn away. Again, there was no choice.
“To even ask marks your question as answered.” the angel answered and lifted his bound arm as evidence, “Your ignorance bears evidence of deserved insult.”
The ugly fat man remained unmoved, his facial expression unchanged, and said, again quietly, “A question asked, a question remains. Just as you condemn your father because you lack clarity in your understanding of his ways, you condemn me for my ignorance in comprehending why you are insulted by my presence.”
There existed a thought, quick and fluent, to draw the human near, to lure him close and then throttle him with the chain. That would quell the rage, and why not, his fate had been sealed. He settled his wings in a non aggressive posture and turned his angry, pouting expression into a hint of a welcoming smile.
“Perhaps it is time, to talk. Assuredly, to do so speaks of my only defense on behalf of my actions.” Satan answered with a twist to his smile as the human came close to set and converse. “Tell me human, where is it you desire to rest here in this world?” and beckoned the ugly man to set on a boulder next to where his chain disappeared deep into the earth.
Suspecting nothing, the human sat on the flat topped stone next to the first angel and looked out over the water. “My desire has always been to be one with God.” the human answered, pride evident in his tone. “My life has been one of tired agony,” he offered, “and I wish for nothing except what Heaven will bring, an eternal peace in the presence of my Lord”.
Satan smiled down at the man who held a steady gaze over the ocean. In one rapid gesture, he wrapped the chain once around the mans neck and yanked with enough force to end his life. Satan untangled his bond from the human and scooped him up with both arms, and then lifted the heavy human high above his head and quickly discarded the human over the cliff and into the ocean.
A great calmness overcame the angel. He had been right, the death of the human had quieted his rage yet something was different. The small dull sun was gone and darkness was sweeping toward him from the horizon. Carried in the darkness were flames that carried no light and below, the ocean churned and boiled. Indeed, the very ground upon which he stood, chained and bound, was scorched and started to belch forth a foul, ungodly smell.
There was to be no defense, no redemption for who he was or what he had done.
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