Sent in by an Australian reader. I’d nickname my guardian angel Facepalm except for the fact that he never has time to do this, but is rather rushing about saving me from this and that horror.
Category Archives: angels
Father George David Byers: Getting smacked down by my Guardian Angel and living to tell the story
I don’t know for how many years I had been begging my guardian angel to guide me in living a bit of reverence before our Heavenly Father with words like these:
“Guardian angel, you who see the Face of God, now, and I don’t, but you do, you know I’m lost, but you’re my guardian angel, and you see the Face of God in heaven, now. Help me to have the same reverence before God that you have, since, after all, you see Him face to Face, even now, and I don’t. And don’t forget, guardian angel, that you should just smack me down if I don’t pay attention to your guidance.”
Something like that, pretty continuously, uncountable times each day, that is, until one day in returning to the seminary after attending an Extraordinary Use Liturgy Practicum in Chicago. I was driving along on Highway 65 and, as usual, was harassing my guardian angel about helping me have the very same reverence as he did before the Most High God, whom he now sees face to Face.
It seems that he had had just about enough of blockheadedness, and received permission from our Lord to, in fact, smack me down. And he did. Well, not literally. I wouldn’t be alive to tell the story if he did. Instead, I received an instruction from him that was without words, but was clearer than any words could ever be, he reprimanding me in this way more than he could have done in any other way:
“You will never ever have the same reverence before God as I do, not even in heaven, not ever. I am an angel. You are just so not an angel. I have my way of being in reverence before God, and you have your own way of being in reverence before God. Yes, I behold the Most Holy Trinity, but you are to be even more involved in the life of the Holy Trinity in a way that I will never ever come to know. You are to know that Christ our God has made you a member of His Mystical Body. He sees the Father for you, and you are with Him as He sees the Father. He presents you to the Father, it being through the Holy Spirit who brings all this about, having you go through, with and in Jesus to the Father. My mandate as your angel guardian is to have you come to know this kind of reverence, surely not to have you know my own reverence before the Most Holy Trinity.”
I suppose if there was room in my tiny Nissan Versa – a sub-sub compact car – I would have been on my knees. I repeated the Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus many, many times: the weight of the glory of God inspires awe. The more I didn’t see the Father with my own eyes, the more humble thanksgiving I had for how Jesus sees the Father for us, eager to have us see with our own eyes, eager to have us in heaven.
In thinking about this some months later, it struck me that this is great for adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament, for we do not see Jesus, but the accidental qualities of the Host: with faith we sense the weight of the glory of God, that Jesus is now seeing the Father for us, having us in union with Him by way of this Most Blessed Sacrament, which He provided through His Sacrifice for us, the Just for the unjust, having, therefore, the right in justice to have mercy on us in this way.
Indeed, the Most Blessed Sacrament, The Sign of Obedience unto Death, our union with the Most Holy Trinity, it being that it is by this Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus that we are drawn before the Father by the Holy Spirit.
I was telling my spiritual directees, the philosopher seminarians of the Pontifical College Josephinum, about how to go before Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament, that it’s not just about them before Jesus, but also about all those whom the Lord is drawing to Himself in this way through the Sacrifice of this Most Blessed Sacrament. They were never to forget the Humanity of Jesus, I said, never to forget that they themselves are members of His Body, never to forget that when they are before Him, they bring all of themselves, body and soul, as an act of intercession before the Lord for all those He is bringing to Himself, not only those who are in this world, but also all the souls in purgatory.
Some time after this it struck me rather more forcefully that it is with this perspective of faith that anyone is to encourage others to believe or to continue in their belief, with the emphasis being on recognizing the work of Jesus rather than on how close or far someone is from Jesus at any given time: all can come closer to the Father through, with and in Jesus if they are still in this world. And we ourselves, I myself, am the worst of sinners, for I have offended the Most High in ways that only I can do. Our mandate is simply to facilitate for others progress in the spiritual life in whatever way. One can almost hear the flurry of feathers of the Holy Spirit fanning the flames of love within those the Most High is drawing to Himself.
Now, let’s skip ahead in the story of my life to the time in which I had just become a hermit, when my hermitage was non-existent, just another patch of forest on top of a mountain ridge in Western North Carolina.
While getting ready to build the hermitage, I was sleeping in a barn that was fairly open to the elements, with loosely fitting sliding walls and a screen door as protection. Having passed the Winter in sub-freezing conditions, I was now sleeping in a chair in a failed effort to get away from the ever present brown recluse spiders, whose possibly fatal bites I was constantly tending for sometimes hours a day.
While trying to get a bit of rest in this chair, very early one morning,while it was still dark out, there was another incident when my guardian angel spoke to me. “Come with me,” he said without words, a communication altogether clearer than any words could be, “and I will bring you to the Father,” he continued. This was clearly not in reference to a bodily following, but by way of the spirit.
I did not sense that there was anything to fear, but, of course, lacking in the love of God in which I should be living more fully, I was afraid, thinking that that would mean that I was going to die right then and there. How could he bring me to our Heavenly Father without me dying, especially with my being so slow to believe? Yet, it seemed that he now turned and was on his way, beckoning me to follow. I felt very strongly that I could go with him in spirit. It was such a strong yet gentle, eager invitation, such was his delight to bring me to our Heavenly Father. Such goodness, such kindness.
This guardian angel of mine, so very joyful – perhaps because I give him so much to laugh about – was also so very respectful of me, which really surprised me, for I have crucified the Son of the Living God with my sins. I am just so nothing, less than nothing. So obtuse. And yet, this guardian angel of mine was so very eager for me to join him. Did I say that “eager” is the word that comes to mind?
But I held back. I thought that, since this seemed to mean that I was going to die, I wouldn’t therefore be able to write about Genesis 2,4–3,24 and the Immaculate Conception, a popular version of the thesis I had promised to write. I know that I have no right to any entitlement to do such a thing, but I so very much wanted to do this, and still do. I am such a knucklehead.
It was then, in my ever so obnoxious hesitation, in my utterly un-spiritual lack of trust in my guardian angel — such an insult to him! — that I turned to Jesus and begged him that I might be able to have the joy in this world of writing about His Immaculate Mother. So, I tried to trump my guardian angel by going to the very One who sent him! Did I mention that I am without any understanding?
To my surprise, Jesus then reprimanded me, not with words, but with a communication clearer than any words could ever be. Who am I to receive the rebuke of the Son of God? The rebuke was quite severe:
“You are to trust your guardian angel!”
I felt so very ashamed. I hadn’t trusted my guardian angel. I felt so very, very useless, and now feared that my guardian angel would no longer deal with me. As always, this was stupid of me. If Jesus said that I was to trust in my guardian angel, that meant that my guardian angel was still to be with me.
I felt so badly about this, that I sacramentally confessed offending my guardian angel, which, as you might expect, sparked a great discussion on the angels with my Confessor. That was great. And I was happy to receive absolution! How hard it is for us to understand that our guardian angels positively delight in being our guardian angels.
Jesus continued His reprimand, knowing I’m a bit thick of skull and slow to understand. He asked:
“Don’t you think that if your guardian angel brings you before the Father, that he will not bring you straight to myself?”
And that is when the previous reprimand I received on Highway 65 from my guardian angel came crashing back to me, that I could never have the reverence before the Father that he, as an angel has, but rather that I am to have the kind of reverence that I am to have, that is, as a member of the Body of Christ, unlike any angel, so that I go to the Father through, with and in Jesus.
When my guardian angel beckoned me to follow him to the Father, he was beckoning me to follow him to Jesus.
How slow of mind and dull of heart I am! How blind and deaf. I am such a sinner.
My guardian angel has all the right in the world to smack me down as the worst charge that a guardian angel could ever have, smacking me down for a good end, of course, to wake up and die right, as that’s what counts in eternity and now.
But angels are great. They grab us and drag us along, teaching us to become ever more simple, like little children.
Just thanking them for their countless helps that we don’t even know about is a good way to learn to be a bit more attentive to their guidance. But more on that and other moments with my guardian angel later, please God.
For now, I just want to say that it’s great to know a little bit more what I don’t know, the old known unknowns thing. This makes it harder to be the arrogant, prideful, heap of nothing that I would so desire otherwise to be. Knowing a bit more about how much I don’t know makes it just a bit easier to be in humble thanksgiving before Jesus.
I need to harass my guardian angel about that, about my learning to be in humble thanksgiving. I so just do not know anything about it.
I talk to my guardian angel, a lot. Do you? If not, why not? If so, you’ll know that this is super-cool, and that reprimands are especially a blessing.
P.S. If anyone wants to say that these are “apparitions” or “locutions” or something extraordinary, or that I am somehow special (except in the sense of my being a bit of an idiot), well, I would just like to tell them that they are totally jerks and knuckleheads almost as totally off the wall as myself, missing the point of this entire article, perhaps maliciously, with the point being that we are all to be open to the guidance of our guardian angels, all of us, without exception, including you. Hah! 
The Church is a family, the Church Militant upon this earth, the Church Suffering in purgatory, and the Church Triumphant in heaven. A family works together. The family of faith especially so. We must all of us realize that this is absolutely the case for each of us, without exception, and that sensationalizing this is an insult to the manner in which this family of faith works.
Sure, not everyone will have had or will have such experiences (though many do), but those who do, mind you, may have such experiences because — as Saint John of the Cross I think says somewhere in his voluminous writings — because such souls as myself are so very incredibly weak and need all the helps that we, that I, can get. In other words, if I have gotten some extra encouragement, it is because I am such a complete and total and especially mangy jackass! 
If anyone upon reading all this would exclaim that I am such an especially mangy jackass, and that it’s a good thing that my guardian angel smacked me down, well, that would be an occasion for me to rejoice, for that would act as an extra thanksgiving to my guardian angel, for which I most grateful.
Filed under angels, Just me, Spiritual Life
In thanksgiving to the Immaculate Conception for favors received: a ten second novena February 2-11
This fiery ad orientem scene at the beginning of February 2013 makes all things look warm. It is way below freezing outside. Inside temps next to my chair right next to the wood stove are 34 degrees Fahrenheit, which is 1 degree Celsius. Extreme Sport Hermiting!
Our Lord is always shining His Divine Mercy upon us. And this is always according to the perfect intercession of the Immaculate Conception.
In thanksgiving for graces received, in thanksgiving for his cancer going into remission, seminarian Philip Gerard Johnson proposes the following prayer as a Novena leading up to the feast of our Lady of Lourdes (the vigil):
O most beautiful lady, who appeared to the humble little Bernadette in the Grotto of Lourdes, look with pitying eye upon the sick and the afflicted. Let me remember to say to you each day as do the pilgrims at Lourdes, “Ave, Ave, Ave Maria.” Our Lady of Lourdes, pray for us.
Right next to the ad orientem altar in Holy Souls Hermitage, there is detail (life-size) of the Tilma – Our Lady of Guadalupe — which I received as a memento in the sacristy after having had the privilege of offering Holy Mass facing the Tilma some decades ago.
It will be a great joy to offer this little prayer in thanksgiving daily. Join in, including all your own intentions of thanksgiving. Mind you, we can be thankful for all things, even nasty things, inasmuch as they are occasions for us to learn more about our condition in this world before God, and how much we need the salvation of the Son of the Immaculate Conception. That knowledge brings us back to an even greater thanksgiving. Heaven will be wonderful. In our non-presumptuous hope to go there — depending on the mercy of our Lord — we can already begin to thank Him now for the heaven to which He leads us, to our Heavenly Father, to all the angels and saints. Our Lord wants the best for us. He is just that good and just that kind.
Filed under ad orientem, angels, Immaculate Conception, Jesus
Angels and Laudie’s donkey ears and… “C’è nessuno?” and falling five times on the way to Confession: Aarrgghh!
An icy, icy, icy morning on Holy Souls Mountain. 26 January 2013
To this day, I can very much sense the presence of the angels in the hermitage and on Holy Souls Mountain, especially when departing or arriving. I think we can all recognize the presence of the angels, which is very much like the presence of Christ. That presence of Jesus is to be noticed as that bond of charity in all friendship which is stable amidst the ever-changing myriad of circumstances, so that we recognize that it is in Him that we live and move and have our being, although we are, at the same time, taking in by way of our senses all that which is presented to us in this world provided to us with such tender solicitation for our welfare.
Unchanging stability on the one hand, ferociously changing, must be taken care of circumstances on the other. Add to this our weakness before His strength, and we have the extreme sport of life, no? Rather mirthful, in the Chestertonian sense. The joy of the Holy Spirit. We are just so inept, but He holds us close to His Heart. I love that. The angels, of course, want nothing more than to encourage us to be in all out reverence before Jesus, what I call humble thanksgiving. Angels, mind you, are rather ferocious, and are patient with us only inasmuch as they see the work of our Lord within our lives.
With them around, we are reminded that we really, really, really want to be about doing the will of our Lord in our lives, staying away from sin, and being an ever simple child of God. Are we wretched as infernal hell without grace? Sure. And it is in knowing that that the joy of the Holy Spirit is all that much more enhanced. We know more just how good and just how kind Jesus is.
Meanwhile, Laudie is having a good time of it, watching me take a picture of her below the wood stove on a particularly icy-cold day. I suppose that she put on her donkey ears in order to enjoy listening to the fire crackle and pop just above her. A rather comforting noise, that. I’m wrong, of course. She’s ever attentive to noises outside, and jumps to attention wanting to go out at the first sign of possible trouble, like little branches burdened with ice breaking off and falling to the ground. And out she goes in full protection mode. Dogs, along with everything else, are a sign of God’s love for us.
* * *
Meanwhile again, with the whole heavenly court all about on Holy Souls Mountain, and right in the hermitage (just as they are everywhere, interceding for us all, especially those like me who are sinners), I am reminded of sitting in the back of a chapel, in the corner, in the dark shadows, not to be seen, in an ever so ancient monastery in Italy very many years ago. The chapel was in two parts, separated by a massive iron grille, behind which was the choir for the cloistered nuns. One of the nuns had a habit (sorry for the pun), when she was looking for another nun, of racing through the choir, from one side to the next, calling out, “C’è nessuno?” which means, “Is there nobody here?” hardly waiting for an answer, but racing on her way. I wanted Jesus in the tabernacle to startle her one day by saying to her, “Yes, I AM here.” Yikes! A good lesson that would be for all of us, no?
* * *
Today is the day after the ice-storm. No power lines down, but there is still ice everywhere, at least in these parts of the mountains. I went out to let the chickens out, and to throw them a bit of scratch feed to get them going for the day. As I looked in wonder at the icy beauty around me… CRASH!!! There I was, in a heap, sliding down Holy Souls Mountain just a bit, scratch feed everywhere. Hah! A good lesson, that.
We are all in danger of falling into sin one way or another at any time. We start not paying so much attention to Jesus, how He is drawing us to Himself, and because of that, with less agility of soul, we start not to recognize how we are paying too much attention to anything and everything apart from Jesus. CRASH!!! A fall. And we wondered how that happened. And then it is time for confession.
Today’s Saturday, a good day for confession in a church not far from you. Spend a little time with Jesus. He is there. He is Someone. He does love us. The angels are encouraging us. If your priest has made time to hear confessions, encourage him by going to confession. You might just save his soul in doing so.
Meanwhile, yet again, I am reminded of a horrific ice storm in Lourdes, when I was a chaplain some years ago. I was headed down to hear confessions when… CRASH!!! Down I went. And I was paying attention! We can be just that inept, that weak. And then, crash and crash and crash again. Fully five times. No broken bones, but I was a total wreck by the time I got to the confessions chapel. I was wishing I had had some ice-cleats. But, in the spiritual life, there’s nothing that can help us like Jesus Himself grabbing us and lifting us up. The sun came out in Lourdes, and all was well again. Jesus also shines on our souls, and then we rejoice exceedingly.
Filed under ad orientem, angels, Catholic, Confession, Just me, Weather
Ad orientem angelic sunshine at Holy Souls Hermitage
The ice in the water buckets tells me that it’s cold outside. NOAA (the government weather) was reporting, instead, 66 degrees Farhenheit. They’ve been having problems for a month or two it seems. Or maybe with Al Gore they’re trying to convince us that there’s super global warming. It’s so hot! And it’s Winter! Maybe all their weather spotters are on vacation and entered some numbers that would automatically be uploaded.
In other news, the sun is shining through the stained glass angels in the chapel of Holy Souls Hermitage. It’s been pretty cloudy lately, so that is a pleasant change.
I remember when I was a deacon and heard a sermon by the priest-celebrant on stained glass windows. The parish church had gorgeous stained glass windows from Germany from well over 100 years ago, depicting the mysteries of the faith and the examples of the great saints.
He mocked, however, those he called pious people, who see things through the rose-colored lens of stained glass windows, and said that we should all just see reality squarely in the face. I was not a little bit offended by this.
The mysteries of the faith and the encouragement of the saints are reality. What would there be apart from the Creator of the heavens and the earth and all that is in them, including us? What more in-your-face-ness is there beyond the very Son of God being tortured and crucified on our behalf? Is such love some sort of un-reality, misleading, a lie? Is such love of our Lord to be damned?
When such a window in the hermitage chapel reminds me of my guardian angel who sees the Face of our Heavenly Father right now and always, I am not thereby removed from reality, but instead am invited to thank the Lord for creating reality and bringing us to Himself even after we shook our fists at Him in original sin.
His love is as real as the gaping wounds still on His risen body, His hands and feet and side, in His Sacred Heart. His love is as real as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass before which the angels are in awe.
Yes, we look to our Lord ad orientem, by way of the Sacred Mysteries, with the encouragement of the saints, and… and… with the protection and guidance and friendship of our guardian angels.
Filed under ad orientem, angels, Catholic
(Part 4) The fiery love of angels melting the ice of our hearts. It’s normal. Really. It is. More on being raped while the angels come to the rescue.
- [Part 1 HERE - suffering a failed but violent rape]
- [Part 2 HERE - unwitting stardom in kiddie-porn films]
- [Part 3 HERE - a suggestion]
- [Part 4 HERE- angels!]
- [Part 5 HERE - responding to some comments.]
Sorry about the aspect ratio of the picture above. I wanted to get some rays of the ad orientem sunrise shining through one of the Blessed Sacrament angels in the chapel of Holy Souls Hermitage during this octave of Christmas.
There are no aspect ratios with my guardian angel or yours. They are always right in our face according to the gracious will of our Heavenly Father, whose Face they behold now. Yikes!
Angels, while instantly available to carry out the justice of God, which they carry out with a continuous humble reverence before the throne of the Most High, also rejoice exceedingly upon the Lord’s mercy accepted by any wayward charge of theirs. They are totally in awe of Jesus and the wounds he received for us, and still bears on His risen body as signs of great love for us.
The love of the angels is a fiery love, prompt, attentive, entirely solicitous for our welfare, especially our spiritual well being. They have no greater joy than to see us in reverence before God, in humble thanksgiving before Jesus, rejoicing in the charity they see in the friendship of God and the likes of even ourselves, me and… and… you.
But we are slow to believe, or at least to act on our belief, are we not? I wonder if, to the angels, our hearts might seem to be a bit icey, much like this hoar frost smashing its way out of the frozen forest floor, which I saw this morning near the hermitage:
This kind of hoar-frost is extremely brittle, fragile, and will crumble with the very least pressure, much like our hearts. Yikes! They are very patient, of course, these angels. I have an idea that my guardian angel must have been chosen for me as being the most patient of all angels. After all, I’m still alive. Thanks, guardian angel!
The thing is — and this is the point — we shouldn’t be so… so… — should I say it rather frankly? — we shouldn’t be so danged ashamed about getting to know our guardian angels, as if this were a most impossible thing in this family of faith. They weren’t sent to us to remain aloof, to never provide us with encouragement and direction and advice. That would be a faithless indictment of our Heavenly Father and His most tender solicitation for our welfare, right? And we wouldn’t want to be shaking our fists at our dear Heavenly Father, would we? I should think not. So, a bit of advice:
Don’t be fearful of asking your guardian angel for his protection, encouragement, direction and advice.
Don’t be fearful of thanking him really very much for all that you have recognized as coming from him and for all that you are too obtuse to notice. I mean, I know that I am so very much blind when it comes to this. But one’s heart and soul is opened up a bit with requests and with thanksgiving.
Also, the more we take their advice, learning to be instruments of the love and truth of the Most High in the midst of all our terrible weakness, the more we are adept at taking this advice, the more agile of soul and heart and mind, the more ferocious in love of God and love of neighbor. That’s not our fault. That’s God’s fault, and that of our angels. And that’s O.K., right?
Recently, I recounted a rather violent moment of my childhood (Part 1 HERE), in which I made a claim about an intervention of my guardian angel, which wasn’t even so much for me (that too) but for someone else. I included that bit in the story because, well, because that’s what happened. And while I was reprimanded with some feedback on that post, I stand behind what I said. It’s not my fault!
I mean, if God loves us, if our guardian angels are there for us, are they not to be praised and thanked? None of this has any reflection on anyone who takes note of such interventions, which, indeed, are the normal course of affairs in our everyday lives. If we only knew! But we are so blind. And we so romanticize anything to do with angels as that which is fantastic, from fairytale land, indeed, as that which is an escape from reality, an opiate for the undiscerning masses, too incredible to really take place.
But our angels see reality, God, in the Face. Don’t offend the angels. They don’t take kindly to that. Indeed, they cannot forgive (Exodus 23,20-21):
20 “See, I am sending an angel before you, to guard you on the way and bring you to the place I have prepared. 21Be attentive to him and heed his voice. Do not rebel against him, for he will not forgive your sin. My authority resides in him.
The angels can rejoice in our Lord’s forgiveness of us. And that’s totally cool. But don’t be presumptuous of our Lord’s forgiveness in this regard either. They reflect His love for us. We don’t want to mock our Lord’s love for us, do we? God will not be mocked.
Look at it this way. If as a little kid, in a very trying circumstance, in which another little kid’s life had to be saved, I got a bit of advice from my guardian angel, in a rather forceful way, that doesn’t mean that I was holy or anything like that, not at all. Rather, I must have been so very incredibly obtuse and lacking in all agility of soul and mind that I had to be rather impressed upon in order to see what I was supposed to do. Get it? I was a jerk. That’s why that happened that way.
There are others who took the direction of angels, one being the great Joan of Arc. But she was a saint not because she heard or even followed what Saint Michael had to tell her. She herself learned to be a great saint because she responded to the love of God. Just getting smacked down by one’s angel has nothing to do with holiness. Mind you, it is a great gift to be so smacked down. That kind of sets things right. And for that we can thank our angels.
Indeed, it belongs to the patience of an angel to smack us down should this be what it takes for us to take notice of that which they were sent to let us know. Such patience! Ouch!
Hah! Angels are totally cool. Thank yours right now: “Um… Thanks, guardian angel!”
There. Made you do it. You were talking to an angel. Pretty cool, huh?
Just make sure to do it more often.
Filed under angels, Spiritual Life
The politics of Attack Helicopters, Angels, rigged elections, and… and… a certain Laudie
A detail of the ad orientem window behind the altar of Holy Souls Hermitage, October 2012.
What looked and sounded like an AH64, the U.S. Army’s most awesome Attack Helicopter, paid a visit the other day. I tried to get a picture of it as it whizzed by the Hermitage, but, alas, it was too quick this time, just on the other side of the canopy. The army comes alone. The marines, with their super-cobras, come in pairs. Fighters can be alone or follow one another. As I say, with this being a practice area, this is surely the most protected airspace in the world.
Don’t think for a second that guardian angels don’t also use natural means to protect us — should that be God’s will — from harm’s way. Part of those natural means involve the military, those who go out of their way to put themselves in harm’s way on our behalf, to provide for us also the possibility of the freedom to practice religion (not just worship, but acting upon religious conscience in the public square). We owe not only our angels, but our military an eternal debt of gratitude. They take an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States, even though the president and his cronies do not. I love that.
I might have written on this recently, but I’ll repeat it here. There’s some talk of the black ops crowd supporting Obama more than any other previous president, including Reagan, for the reason that Obama gives them free permission to kill anyone and everyone they think they should kill. In other words, overtime pay, scalp hunting regardless of any connections to terrorism of whatever potential targets.
I doubt this. I mean, honestly… But should there be any such un-American people, I would ask them to consider this. There have been some events of recent weeks which would make one think that Obama is giving free reign to Islamicist terrorism. We have a dead ambassador. Obama rationalized the goodness of that act of war against the U.S.A. by saying that someone, somewhere in the world made an insulting youtube entry. Indeed, it would now seem that one is to protect terrorists from capture while not protecting their targets from harm. I’m thankful that there is much more chatter that finds any such talk of any such un-American black ops crowd to be insulting and dishonest. Great.
I wish the Military would take charge of protecting us from a rigged election. Let’s do a test as the absentee vote begins in the next weeks. I was on the road with the neighbor the other day from Asheville all the way up the mountains, dozens and dozens of miles. Of the hundreds of political signs, there wasn’t not even one Obama sign. Extremely few are for Obama. If he ‘wins’ here, you have to know that the election was rigged.
At least there is a certain Laudie to provide a bit of normality amidst the mayhem that would ensue. Another way, I think, that guardian angels work.
Guardian angels
Remember, their main activity with us is to keep us away from sin (though we still have free will) and to direct us to be in humble thanksgiving before the throne of the Most High, before Mary Immaculate’s Divine Son, Jesus. Our angels see the face of God in heaven right now, even as they also behold us, their charges. Do not offend your angels. Listen to them.
Don’t insult Archangels!
In the mid-1980s and for about twenty more years, angels were depicted as dolphins, or, if they had a more human visage, were often presented as feminine and effeminate, often with the Christmas decorations of Western materialism: long blonde hair, gentle facial features, and with ever so dainty, delicate, ethereal wisps of clothing with matching wings. Without the wings, no one would ever have guessed that they were angels, mistaking them rather for a super-model Barbie that had been crossed with Peter Pan’s fairy.
The archangels are all kind of like the more rough and tumble images we have of Saint Michael.
The name Raphael means “Physician-of-God” (not any doctor that God needs, but the messenger of healing that God sends to us). Raphael also, of course, battles with Satan. From the book of Tobit: “The demon [...] fled into Upper Egypt; Raphael pursued him there and bound him hand and foot. Then Raphael returned immediately.” Raphael, mind you, would have had to have appeared as someone fitting the description of a capable bodyguard, able to fend off any danger of any circumstance. The image here is that of Saint Michael’s foot, so to speak, stomping Satan into the dirt. But it is a fitting image of Saint Raphael doing the same with Satan.
The name Gabriel means “War-Hero-of-God”, a kind of black-ops, special forces, seal team type, pretty much constituting an entire military in his own person. You can read about his exploits in the last chapters of the book of Daniel. It is interesting that in all this warfare, Saint Michael is the one who helps Gabriel, not the other way around. Gabriel, when he appeared at the annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary, must have done so with all the splendor of military bearing that he could muster. She is about to enter into the war with Satan full on, that war mentioned in Genesis 3,15, where we read of the enmity between Satan and herself, between Satan’s “seed” (his followers) and her “Seed” (the Redeemer, and His Mystical Body). Of course, the warrior of all warrior angels is sent to her to make the announcement of the Incarnation of the Prince of Peace, who will lay down His life for us. Since the thesis has everything to do with explaining all this, as will the popular version of that thesis, Saint Gabriel is a patron saint of Holy Souls Hermitage. But I have always felt close to him. The image here is that of Saint Michael dispatching the power of Satan, but this is a fitting image of the work of Saint Gabriel as well.
The name Michael means “Who-Is-Like-God”. He battles with Satan, especially inasmuch as Satan prowls the world looking for the ruin of souls. Again, you can read about him in the last chapters of the book of Daniel, as well as in the Apocalypse.
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude. Amen.
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle;
be our protection against the wickedness
and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan
and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world
seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.
Filed under angels
Saint Michael Chaplet
EWTN has a good page fully given below… the picture of the chaplet above was given to me just the other day by a reader…
The Chaplet of St. Michael is a wonderful way to Continue reading
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Guardian angels are totally way cool!
Guardian angels are totally way cool: A totally way cool post-abortion journey post!
Satan is all about mind games and power-brow-beating.
Guardian angels are all about getting us to know a bit of love.
If you know someone who’s post-abortive, have them follow that blog!
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Saint Maximilian Kolbe and Saint Michael the Archangel: A Militia! (Yikes!)
Some free advertising for Stained-Windows! We read this brilliantly written summary on Stained-Windows:
Father Kolbe, a Polish Saint: Maximilian Kolbe was born in Poland on January 8, 1894. The two crowns on the right recall his vision of Mary, who appeared to him when he was a child and offered him the choice of the red crown of martyrdom or the white crown of purity – but he chose both and later entered the religious life and became [a priest of the Order of Friars Minor Conventual], ministering to Christians and Jews alike. Auschwitz concentration camp: 
Maximilian was arrested by Nazi forces and put in prison Feb. 17, 1941. On May 28, 1941 he was transferred to Auschwitz, Poland and branded prisoner 16670 He was beaten many times. He ministered to other prisoners and said mass using smuggled bread and wine. Fr Kolbe sacrifices his life to save another: In July 1941, there was an escape from the camp. When a prisoner escapes, ten other prisoners are killed. The guards chose Francis Gajowniczek, a married man with young children to die for the escape. Maximilian volunteered to take his place in the starvation bunker. Maximilian died as he had wished, in service to others. The background shows the bunker building in Auschwitz where he was imprisoned. Maximilian Kolbe’s feast day is August 14. He is the patron saint of prisoners.
* * *
In other publications we read of an event in Maximilian’s own words:
They placed the black standard of the “Giordano Brunisti” under the windows of the Vatican. On this standard the archangel, St. Michael, was depicted lying under the feet of the triumphant Lucifer. At the same time, countless pamphlets were distributed to the people in which the Holy Father was attacked shamefully.
This is what inspired Saint Maximilian to found the Militia Immaculata!
* * *
So, might I ask ye all once again to prayer the Saint Michael prayer once for my intentions and once for all of ye praying this prayer? Thank you so very much!
Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle;
be our protection against the wickedness
and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God,
thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world
seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.
UPDATE: In choosing both crowns, of purity and martyrdom, we come to understand something: purity is a martyrdom and martyrdom can only be accomplished with the agility of soul had with purity. And that can be granted even at the time of martyrdom. Blessed John Paul II had a great insight in calling him a martyr of charity. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. God is love. God is truth. The Nazis took the life of this lover of the truth of God’s love for us: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3,16).
The Saint Michael painting – in situ – Saint Peter’s Basilica, Rome
Sent in today by a reader of the blog who is making a pilgrimage ad limina apostolorum, and who is praying the Saint Michael prayer for my intentions. Thank you! — You’ll find this altar back around behind the confessional area.
Please, once for my intentions, and once for all of yourselves praying this prayer. Thank you!
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle; be our protection
against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God,
thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.
Filed under angels
USMC shows the way, again, in trusting Saint Michael. Way cool!
This is the true story of a Marine wounded in Korea in 1950. Writing to his mother, he told her of a fascinating encounter he experienced in the war. Father Walter Muldy, a navy chaplain who spoke to the young Marine and his mother as well as to the outfit commander, always affirmed the veracity of this narrative.
We heard it from someone who read the original letter and retell the story here in all its details and in the first person to better convey some of the impact it must have had when first told by the son to his mother.
Dear Mom,
I am writing to you from a hospital bed. Don’t worry, Mom, I am okay. I was wounded, but the doctor says that I will be up in no time.
But that’s not what I have to tell you, Mom. Something happened to me that I don’t dare tell anyone else for fear of their disbelief. But I have to tell you, the one person I can confide in, though even you may find it hard to believe.
You remember the prayer to Saint Michael that you taught me to pray when I was little: “Michael, Michael of the morning,…” Before I left home for Korea, you urged me to remember this prayer before any confrontation with the enemy. But you really didn’t have to remind me, Mom. I have always prayed it, and when I got to Korea, I sometimes said it a couple of times a day while marching or resting.
Well, one day, we were told to move forward to scout for Commies. It was a really cold day. As I was walking along, I perceived another fellow walking beside me, and I looked to see who it was.
He was a big fellow, a Marine about 6’4” and built proportionally. Funny, but I didn’t know him, and I thought I knew everyone in my unit. I was glad to have the company and broke the silence between us:
“Chilly today, isn’t it?” Then I chuckled because suddenly it seemed absurd to talk about the weather when we were advancing to meet the enemy.
He chuckled too, softly.
“I thought I knew everyone in my outfit,” I continued, “ but I have never seen you before.”
“No,” he agreed, “I have just joined. The name is Michael.”
“Really?! That’s mine, too.”
“I know,” the Marine said, “Michael, Michael of the morning….”
Mom, I was really surprised that he knew about my prayer, but I had taught it to many of the other guys, so I supposed that the newcomer must have picked it up from someone else. As a matter of fact, it had gotten around to the extent that some of the fellows were calling me “Saint Michael.”
Then, out of the blue, Michael said, “There’s going to be trouble ahead.”
I wondered how he could know that. I was breathing hard from the march, and my breath hit the cold air like dense clouds of fog. Michael seemed to be in top shape because I couldn’t see his breath at all. Just then, it started to snow heavily, and soon it was so dense I could no longer hear or see the rest of my outfit. I got a little scared and yelled, “Michael!” Then I felt his strong hand on my shoulder and heard his voice in my ear, “It’s going to clear up soon.”
It did clear up, suddenly. And then, just a short distance ahead of us, like so many dreadful realities, were seven Commies, looking rather comical in their funny hats. But there was nothing funny about them now; their guns were steady and pointed straight in our direction.
“Down, Michael!!” I yelled as I dove for cover. Even as I was hitting the ground, I looked up and saw Michael still standing, as if paralyzed by fear, or so I thought at the time. Bullets were spurting all over the place, and Mom, there was no way those Commies could have missed at that short distance. I jumped up to pull him down, and then I was hit. The pain was like a hot fire in my chest, and as I fell, my head swooned and I remember thinking, “I must be dying…” Someone was laying me down, strong arms were holding me and laying me gently on the snow. Through the daze, I opened my eyes, and the sun seemed to blaze in my eyes. Michael was standing still, and there was a terrible splendor in his face. Suddenly, he seemed to grow, like the sun, the splendor increasing intensely around him like the wings of an angel. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I saw that Michael held a sword in his hand, and it flashed like a million lights.
Later on, when I woke up, the rest of the guys came to see me with the sergeant.
“How did you do it, son?” he asked me.
“Where’s Michael?” I asked in reply.
“Michael who?” The sergeant seemed puzzled.
“Michael, the big Marine walking with me, right up to the last moment. I saw him there as I fell.”
“Son,” the sergeant said gravely, “you’re the only Michael in my unit. I hand-picked all you fellows, and there’s only one Michael. You. And son, you weren’t walking with anyone. I was watching you because you were too far off from us, and I was worried.
Now tell me, son,” he repeated, “how did you do it?”
It was the second time he had asked me that, and I found it irritating.
“How did I do what?”
“How did you kill those seven Commies? There wasn’t a single bullet fired from your rifle.”
“What?”
“Come on, son. They were strewn all around you, each one killed by a swordstroke.”
And that, Mom, is the end of my story. It may have been the pain, or the blazing sun, or the chilling cold. I don’t know, Mom, but there is one thing I am sure about. It happened.
Love your son,
Michael
The USMC shows us the way, of course, in trusting Saint Michael, who, like unto God, is Semper Fi
John Ritchie of TFP Student Action ( TFP) wrote this article just the other day:
With a photo of Saint Michael tucked into his helmet, he said: “I don’t need luck.” When the U. S. Marines of Company B, 1st Battalion, 6th Regiment attacked the Taliban stronghold of Marjah in Afghanistan in 2010, they knew what to expect from the terrorists: lethal resistance, heavy fire, and constant danger.
Extraordinary things happened in the course of the battle. Lance Cpl. Andrew Koenig received a direct shot to the head from a Taliban sniper while he was standing guard on a rooftop outpost. The impact of the bullet hit him with such violence that it hurled Lance Cpl. Koenig flat onto his back.
After being rushed to the company aid station to assess the gravity of the injury, however, a baffled Navy corpsman verified that the projectile had only left a thumb-size dent in the Marine’s hard Kevlar helmet. With a visible lump on his forehead, the brave Marine quickly returned to his dangerous post. For many heroic Marines like Lance Cpl. Koenig, Semper Fidelis is not just a slogan, but a way of life. [We know, of course, that the marines receive the solicitous protection of God, who is Himself semper fidelis. The marines, as a response, try to be like unto God (Michael), semper fidelis.]
According to The Wall Street Journal account, a combat-hardened Gunnery Sergeant who witnessed the event remarked that he had never seen a Marine survive a direct head shot. “From a spiritual point of view, that doesn’t happen by accident,” added a detective at the outpost.
“But next to him was Cpl. Christopher Ahrens, who quietly mentioned that two bullets had grazed his helmet the day the Marines attacked Marjah. The same thing, he said, happened to him three times in firefights in Iraq.
Cpl. Ahrens “lifted the camouflaged cloth cover on his helmet, exposing the holes where the bullets had entered and exited,” reports The Wall Street Journal.
“He turned it over to display the picture card tucked inside, depicting Michael the Archangel stamping on Lucifer’s head. ‘I don’t need luck,’ he said.”
More updates on the Saint Michael prayer…
For some time now I’ve been asking you readers to invoke Saint Michael, asking that you pray the Saint Michael prayer once for my intentions and then once for you and yours. Many of you have also had Masses offered for me. Thank you. Don’t forget to include each other in the latter prayer!
I think things are going well. The reason I say that is that some of you who are praying this prayer are being harassed a bit by Satan’s minions. That must mean that the prayers are very much needed, very much appreciated by our Lord, very much despised by Satan’s minions.
I thank you for your continued prayer. Satan doesn’t like getting kicked in the face by Saint Michael. That’s O.K. by me.
And an update to this post (already): I am distressed that I keep getting even more reports of getting harassed when this prayer is being recited for my intetions and then for all of you who are praying. I would just like to say that there is no reason to fear. This is Satan’s tactic to stop you from praying.
If you are being extraordinarily tempted, use this as an occasion to grow in simplicity, in trust, before our Lord, like a little child, no matter what… always more simple, more humble, more trusting in Him, instead of getting intense with our pretending to be able to control everything, then getting frustrated, then getting depressed, then risking falling into sin.
If you (also) being physically harassed, simply offer yourself as a living intercession for the good of Christ’s Mystical Body. This goes for temptation as well. Have no fear. Rather, be a good solidier of this Church Militant!
Again: If there is such extraordinary frustration on Satan’s minions’ part (which is why they would strike out instead of continuing to hide themselves), it is only because those of you who are praying are so very much loved by our Lord, who holds your prayer to be most precious. Jesus is the Lord of History, but He wants us to pray. Please, don’t give up now! Join us if you haven’t already. Just make sure you are someone who goes to confession regularly! Yikes and Yikes again! Let’s pray:
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae Caelestis,
satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle; be our protection
against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan
and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.
Filed under angels
The angels on fire at Holy Souls Hermitage! FIRE !!!
The angels know well how to put us into humble thanksgiving mode before Mary’s Son, Jesus…
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Why this is one happy hermit at HSH: lots of angels, human and otherwise!
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The thing is, the angels, spiritual guardians sent from the throne of the Most High, and the angels, human friends part of my life by providence of the Most High, know first hand my utter unworthiness and idiocy before God and men, and… and… they still encourage me. And to think, spiritual angels, our guardians, see God in the Face at this very moment… To be in humble thanksgiving mode makes a person very, very happy. This is one happy priest, because the Lord Jesus, also through these angels, human and spiritual, shows Himself to be good and kind.
The angels pictured above are the angels of the Altar of Sacrifice (which all altars, to be altars, have to be, right?) here at Holy Souls Hermitage. They look down to the tabernacle, where our Lord deigned to dwell, for a while, “a little lower than the angels” (Letter to the Hebrews 2,7.9).
Mary’s Son drags us to Himself in this Holy Sacrifice, does He not? The angels are quite content that they see us also as members of the Body of Christ. How much God loves us!
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Accompany me, Father George David Byers, S.S.L., S.T.D., as I begin life as a Catholic Priest-Hermit by choice. Holy Souls Hermitage is dedicated to the sanctification of my fellow priests, bishops, deacons & seminarians going through the purgatory of this life or the next. Prayer and sacrifice go up, of course, for both Benedict XVI and the next Successor of Saint Peter. 
