9
A discussion of heaven would not be complete without giving some attention to angels,” writes John MacArthur.1 We may state the question another way: Can there be a heaven without angels?
The question of angels poses an epistemological as well as a metaphysical conundrum. How can we know anything about angels, even whether they exist?2 Is there some scientific angel detector available to the researcher? “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” asks the jesting skeptic—and does not stay for an answer. This scoffing question represents one common attitude toward angels in contemporary culture. On the other hand, there are many who see a multitude of the heavenly host “pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross,” as the poet Francis Thompson put it.3 MacArthur points to the large number of angel sightings in various contemporary media and concludes, “Much of this, of course, is little more than occult divination, sorcery and New Age–style mysticism.”4
So, can there be a heaven without angels? Certainly the orthodox Christian answer to this question must be no. Evangelical Christians necessarily concede the reality of biblical angels, but they tend to caution against speculation into heavenly mysteries in favor of what Alister McGrath calls the “theocentric vision of heaven.”5 Recently, Randy Alcorn and N. T. Wright have sought to redress the notion that “going to heaven” comes at the expense of the resurrection life promised to the redeemed in the new earth.6 In contesting the view of human destiny as sitting on a cloud with a harp, however, they neglect the “invisible” character of the angelic world and its relation to the earth below.7
Angels: A Definition
Once we raise the larger question of what “all things invisible” might include, we must go one step further to seek an adequate definition of angel. The Hebrew word mal’ak and the Greek word angelos both mean “messenger” and are functional terms, speaking to angels’ mission rather than their identity. There can be earthly messengers as well as heavenly messengers; indeed, sometimes it is not clear which is which (Judg. 13:1–22). Another attractive definition is that angels are spirits, as noted in the epistle to the Hebrews: “Are they not all ministering spirits sent out to serve . . . ?” (Heb. 1:14). This passage, however, is the only place in Scripture where angels are called “spirits,” and it appears to be a conflation of ideas from the Psalms that identify the winds as God’s “messengers” (Pss. 103:21; 104:4). What we can say, based on the passage in Hebrews, is that angels are “spiritual beings.” I would argue, however, that heavenly angels have a personal or bodily—though not a body of flesh—identity distinct from a formless demonic spirit ever in search of a body (Mark 5:12). Likewise, angels are limited in both knowledge and location, whereas the Holy Spirit is all-knowing and omnipresent.8
Further, it is generally assumed that there are two kinds of angels: good and evil. The good angels include such figures as the cherubim and seraphim, the archangels and angel choirs; the evil angels include various deities, Satan, demons, and “principalities and powers.” Evil angels were created good and rebelled, and their condemnation is irremediable, though final judgment awaits in the lake of fire. “Elect angels” (1 Tim. 5:21), on the other hand, are forever pure and loyal to God.
Angels: A Biblical Theology
For evangelical Christians, a proper angelology must be, first and foremost, biblical. But in what sense can we speak of a biblical theology of angels? We have already seen the difficulties in defining the identity of angels. Furthermore, we must face the problem that the presence and persona of angels are quite varied within the body of Scripture. Angels, for instance, do not appear in the creation narrative of Genesis 1. The “angel of the Lord” is an almost God-like figure in parts of Genesis, Exodus, and Joshua but then disappears for long portions of the history books. Again, there are very few references to angels in the preexilic prophets, but they reappear in Ezekiel, Zechariah, and Daniel.
Even more striking is the persona of Satan and the fallen angels. The paucity and obscurity of references to evil angels in the Old Testament have led some scholars to conclude that its Hebrew monotheism had no place for a personal evil being. By contrast, Satan and the demonic forces are quite prominent in the New Testament, especially the Gospels and the Revelation to John. So is it perhaps impossible to speak of a “doctrine” of angels, a comprehensive biblical angelology? I have argued at some length that it is possible, with a careful examination of the entire canon of Scripture, to discern a consistent understanding of angels, devils, and spiritual authorities.9 I shall follow that presentation briefly in this essay.
God and the Gods
The fundamental teaching of the Old Testament is that “the LORD our God, the LORD is one,” and he will tolerate no rival gods or idols before him (Deut. 6:4; Ex. 20:3). Given this teaching, it is perhaps surprising that the Old Testament has a number of references to other “gods” or “sons of god” (Heb. elohim and bene elohim) that are not simply carved from stone or wood. The “incomparability formula” is a primary literary strategy for exalting God’s transcendent greatness: “For who in the skies can be compared to the LORD? Who among the sons of God is like the LORD, a god feared in the council of the holy ones?” (Ps. 89:6–7).10 Most striking here is the reference to a heavenly “council,” an idea akin to the pantheons of pagan religions.
While Psalm 89 identifies the divine council members as “holy ones” (so also Ps. 29:1–2; Job 38:7), Psalm 82 presents a much more problematic picture of God’s condemning the spiritual rulers to ultimate death (see further below). This is the corrupt body before which the lying spirit or Satan appears (1 Kings 22:19–22; Job 1–2; Zech. 3:1–10).11 One conclusion for a study of heaven may be that if “heaven” is the entire invisible world, it includes a variety of spiritual forces—some holy, some corrupt, and some demonic.
The divine council, it seems, is a compromised body, or is at least quite distant from the immediate presence of God. The Old Testament also hints, however, at an inner circle in heaven. In Genesis 18, Abraham sights “three men” approaching his tent at Mamre. Abraham addresses one of them as “Lord” (v. 3), and throughout the encounter the Lord (Yahweh) addresses Abraham and Sarah, but by the time these figures reach Sodom, they are referred to as “the two angels” (19:1). The most likely explanation of this encounter is that these divine visitors are archangelic in character and that the one angel who speaks for the Lord is probably the “angel of the Lord” found elsewhere throughout the Old Testament; he is possibly Gabriel in Daniel and the New Testament.
One further hint of the heavenly hierarchy comes from the throne visions of Isaiah and Ezekiel (Isaiah 6; Ezekiel 1). In both visions, the prophet sees something of the divine persona, bathed in glory and described with great circumspection. Associated with the divine presence are throne angels called “seraphim” in Isaiah and “cherubim” in Ezekiel. The seraphim stand beside the throne and cry “holy”; the cherubim carry aloft the divine chariot with the sound of mighty wings. I would call them “archetypal beings,” spiritual like the angels but combining features of human and animal natures. John’s vision in Revelation builds on the Old Testament foundation. He sees an inner council of twenty-four human-like elders with crowns and “four animals,” the royal types of wild and domestic animals (lion and ox), man, and birds (eagle).
The combination of the strongest assertions of the sole lordship and transcendence of the Lord God alongside references to other “divine beings” reflects the remarkable confidence in Old Testament monotheism. At the same time, it grants a certain credibility to the experiences of the divine in other cultures, even if these experiences ultimately lead to idolatry. Finally, it portrays a textured heaven that is still perfectly ordered by God’s will. Biblical monotheism thus avoids what Karl Barth referred to as “the religious glorification of the number ‘one’” and differentiates it from Islam in this regard.12
Angels and the Mystery of Creation
“I believe in God the Father, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” The Nicene Creed follows Genesis 1:1 but also alludes to the creation of the angels. And surely anyone versed in Milton’s Paradise Lost knows that there is a vivid heavenly mythology to the prehistory of the earth. Why then is Scripture itself silent on this subject?
Perhaps mythology is the key to understanding this reticence. The ancient Near Eastern cosmologies all had elaborate myths of the birth of the gods and of the formation of the cosmos. Genesis, by contrast, is naturalistic in its description of the sun and moon—the greater and the lesser lights—of the various animals, including the great sea creatures, and finally of mankind itself. How does this world picture cohere with the references to the divine beings and angels in heaven? In my view, the author of Genesis portrays an opaque atmospheric barrier between the divine and human worlds. This barrier may be penetrated from time to time by messengers from God or by a roving Adversary or by an entranced prophet, but it is impenetrable to normal human wisdom and imagination. I propose that this firmament represents the metaphysical distinction between the material, “empirical” world and the real but immaterial world.
Furthermore, the climax of creation, according to Genesis, is not the creation of the divine beings but of man, made uniquely in the image of God, male and female. How is it that God would overreach the hierarchy of heaven and focus his work on a creature of clay rather than on a spiritual being? Psalm 8 presents this mystery in a compelling way:
O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You whose glory is chanted above by the mouth of godlings,
you have established a bulwark against your foes,
to still the enemy and the avenger.
When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?
Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor. (vv. 1–5; author’s
translation in italics)13
God’s election of man rather than angels as his image bearer and covenant partner is a problem for Job in his quest for God’s attention. One of his so-called comforters challenges Job’s assurance of God’s favor thus: “Can a mortal man be righteous before God? Can a man be pure before his Maker? Even in his servants he puts no trust, and his angels he charges with error” (Job 4:17; cf. 7:17–20; 25:2–6). Without dispelling this mystery, the Lord speaks personally to Job and assures him that he is a prince among God’s creatures, even among those “sons of God” who sang for joy at the moment of creation (38:7).
Being made in God’s image brings with it a primal temptation, as the snake insinuates: “You will be like gods [elohim]” (Gen. 3:5). Eve and then Adam, seeking the intuitive insight and immortality of a divine being, find instead the knowledge of sin and shame; the Lord, noting ironically that “the man has become like one of us,” sentences them to exile from the Tree of Life and to ultimate return to dust. Cast out of Eden, the human race continues to test the boundaries of the angelic world (6:1–4; chaps. 11, 19).14 Such hubristic forays lead to further judgments on humanity, with God setting his favor on the solitary figures of Noah and Abraham.
The pattern of human grasping upward for the divine and of God’s reaching down in mercy to save his wayward people reaches a final climax in the book of Daniel, which pits the worldly empires against the people of the Most High. Angelic warriors such as Michael and Gabriel intervene on behalf of God’s elect, but the consummation comes with the presentation of the “son of man” to receive universal lordship from the Ancient of Days. Some scholars have posited that this figure is a mighty angel like Michael, but the term “son of man” can only refer to a human being, born of woman, and it is this human being who is exalted over even the mightiest of the angelic “princes.”
Angels and the Triune God
As angels in the Old Testament are especially associated with the one God and with serving man in God’s image, so also they are mentioned in the New Testament as witnesses of Jesus Christ, the God-Man.
Karl Barth describes angels as part of the “framework of mystery” that surrounds Jesus’ life and ministry as portrayed in the Gospels, where angels appear at the beginning—at his birth and his temptation in the wilderness—and at the end—at the agony in the garden and at the resurrection—but nowhere else in between. Jesus’ cryptic statement about the disciples’ seeing the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man (John 1:51) may suggest the notion that angels stake out the boundaries between heaven and earth as the Son enters into human history.15
While Jesus himself has no angelic encounters during his ministry, he does speak in parable and prophecy of the role of angels at his second coming (Matt. 16:27; 24:31, 46; 25:31, 41; Mark 13:39, 49; 14:62; Luke 12:8–9). What is striking about these references is that the angels are given distinctly subordinate roles to him, just as in Daniel’s visions even the mightiest angels are supporting actors to the exalted Son of Man.
The subordinate rank of angels in the Gospels is consistent with their portrayal in the apostolic confessions of the Epistles. Paul’s reformulation of the Old Testament Shema (“Hear, O Israel”) states:
For although there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth—as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”—yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist. (1 Cor. 8:5–6)
In accord with the Old Testament, Paul does not rule out the possible existence of other spiritual forces, but he places them in a totally different category of being from the one God and Jesus Christ. This pattern is reflected also in the early hymns found in the Epistles, where “all things . . . in heaven and earth” are created and reconciled in and through Christ (Col. 1:15–20) and “every knee . . . in heaven and on earth and under the earth” will bow to the exalted Son (Phil. 2:9–11).
The epistle to the Hebrews presents an extended treatment of the relationship of Christ to the angels. The author begins by identifying Christ as “the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, . . . [who] upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb. 1:3). He goes on to show in a series of seven Old Testament proof texts that Christ is consistently identified with God in any comparison with angels, and he concludes that angels are Christ’s servants, not his coworkers (vv. 5–14). Finally, in a profound meditation on Psalm 8, he wrestles with the fact that Christ “for a little while” was made lower than the angels for our sake:
For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. (2:16–17)
Finally, the Revelation to John draws a clear line between God and the angels, coming as it does “from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of kings on earth” (Rev. 1:4–5; chaps. 4–5). Some contemporary scholars think the Christ figure of 1:12–16 is “angelomorphic,” borrowing angelic characteristics from apocalyptic throne visions, but it is equally likely that it is the aura of heavenly glory that makes them seem similar.16 While there may have been a tendency among some early Christian writers to identify the exalted Christ in some sense as an angel, the New Testament texts themselves consistently “clarify” the monotheism of the Old Testament as Trinitarian in substance, with the angels serving as heavenly witnesses on the other side of the divide between God and creature.17 The radiance of the divine glory proceeds from the Son; the angels’ glory is lunar only.
The Fallen Angel
One cannot really deal theologically with the holiness of angels without also explaining its opposite, the evil angel and his companions. Many modern people have difficulty accepting the existence of a personal evil being, and many modern exegetes doubt that Satan has a biblical existence until after the exile in Babylon and the influence of Zoroastrian dualism on Judaism.18 I do not find this convincing theologically or exegetically. From a theological point of view, it is hard to see how Satan invents himself in the middle of history; if he indeed has or had an angelic nature, then he was created and rebelled primordially. The obscurity of Satan may reflect the fragmentary way in which evil is encountered in the world, which may in fact be his own design—he is, after all, the Deceiver (diabolos).
Just as the angels are hidden from view in the creation accounts, so also there is no report of rebellion in heaven, although there are allusions to such a revolt in the prophets (Isa. 14:12–15; Ezek. 28:1–11). Readers of Genesis are challenged, along with Eve, to resist a prodigy, a talking snake who questions the truthfulness and goodness of God’s command. Later in the Old Testament, readers are invited into the throne room to hear the insinuations made by the Accuser (the satan) against the righteous man Job. Job himself is not afforded this insight but must wrestle with suffering and iniquity by faith alone.
It is my contention that it is the Son of God who flushes out Satan’s true identity and presents the church and world with a clear choice between spiritual good and evil. Satan’s name and role are exposed fully in his encounter with Jesus in the wilderness. He is the primordial Tempter through whom sin and corruption entered the world. If it may be said that Jesus learned the meaning of sonship through being tempted, so also Satan learned the weakness of his own degraded angelic sonship and his impending doom.19 At the command “Be gone,” Satan departs the scene and never again appears in the presence of Jesus. At the same time, he remains active and indeed increases his activity on earth through his demons (Rev. 12:17).
Jesus is portrayed during his earthly ministry as an exorcist who grants similar power to his disciples, a power which they continue to exercise through the Holy Spirit as part of the apostolic mission (Mark 1:34; 3:14–15; Acts 5:15; 8:7; 19:11–17).20 From these exorcisms, we learn that the demons are “unclean” or “evil” spirits, seeking bodies to inhabit and minds to captivate, and that they are organized like an army or a household under a “prince of demons” called Beelzebul, whom Jesus identifies as Satan (Mark 3:22–27; 5:2–13).21
The climax and completion of the conquest of Satan and the demonic powers come with Jesus’ passion and death. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus claims to have seen Satan’s fall from heaven and places this event in the context of his own saving work and revelation of the Father (Luke 10:17–22). In John’s Gospel, Jesus identifies his own going to the Father with the judgment of the “ruler of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11). Finally, in the Apocalypse, the birth and ascension of Jesus is the great sign that exposes Satan to be no longer the lowly “ancient serpent” but the hideous cosmic Dragon that provokes full-scale war in heaven (Rev. 12:1–8).
So is Satan an angel, even if fallen? There are numerous allusions in Scripture to Satan’s heavenly origin, not the least being our Lord’s own claim. He has a name, a title, and a singular personality, whereas the demons are called “spirits” with little personality. There are, however, also marks of lost status. Satan is never given bodily form and, except in the case of Jesus, always tempts through intermediaries; indeed, as the prince of demons, it follows that he himself is demonic, not angelic. Milton, in his portrayal of the change of Satan’s personality from the mighty Lucifer into a hissing snake, may have rightly grasped Satan’s nature as that of a ruined angel.22
Is Satan the origin of evil, or is he simply its agent? The problem of theodicy is well known: how can an all-good and all-powerful God create or allow evil to exist? Augustine sought to explain Satan’s fall in terms of choosing a lesser good, his own angelic beauty over God’s glory. In my view, this proposal obscures the enormity and utterly uncaused character of Satan’s hubris and rebellion.
This being said, can modern and postmodern people accept the reality of Satan and the demonic? Curiously, Karl Barth, who stated that “to deny the angels of God is to deny God himself,” goes on to claim that “the devil was never an angel.”23 Walter Wink claims that Satan is real but a kind of negative potentiality that “arises out of the depths of mystery of God; but by our choices we do determine which side Satan is on.”24 It is hard to see how a biblical Christian can accede to these proposals. Surely Satan, like the holy angels, is real, even if he must be portrayed imaginatively, as in the works of C. S. Lewis.25
Principalities and Powers
It is commonly thought that the idea of invisible “principalities and powers” first appears in the New Testament. This is not the case. An early reference comes from the Pentateuch: “When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind, he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God” (Deut. 32:8).26 What is striking about this passage is the assigning of divine council members as guardians of the various nations. Further, there is a sense in which even the celestial bodies—sun, moon, and stars—are seen to “govern” the nations, though they are not to be worshiped (4:19; 32:43 [LXX]; Sir. 17:17). This idea may also underlie Paul’s comment that the Gentiles have access to the knowledge of God through the created order but have corrupted that knowledge by idolatry (Rom. 1:20–21).27
Idolatry, however, is not the only sin, as the angels of the nations themselves are corrupt. Psalm 82 offers a proleptic vision of judgment to come (cf. Isa. 24:21), with God arising to indict the divine rulers:
God has taken his place in the divine council;
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
“How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked?
Give justice to the weak and the fatherless;
maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
they walk about in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
I said, “You are gods,
sons of the Most High, all of you;
nevertheless, like men you shall die,
and fall like any prince.”
Arise, O God, judge the earth;
for you shall inherit all the nations! (Ps. 82:1–8)
Some translators (e.g., NASB) have mistakenly taken this assembly to be an earthly council of godlike rulers, although there is an intimate link between the heavenly and earthly government and the religions of the nations.
The idea of cosmic powers is taken in new directions after the exile. On the one hand, the Enoch literature develops a myth about the fallen “Watchers” who corrupt the human race at the time of the flood with technology, magic, and divination. These rebels are confined to the underworld but continue to exercise influence on earth until the end times (1 En. 1–6; cf. 1 Pet. 3:19; 2 Pet. 2:4). On the other hand, the angels of the nations are replaced by Daniel’s four beastly empires: the lion, the bear, the leopard, and the final blasphemous beast. Daniel explains that these four great beasts represent four kingdoms that arise out of the “earth,” i.e., the underworld, inspired by the hubris of the fallen angels (Dan. 7:17). In both Enoch and Daniel, the angelic opponents of the fallen powers are the archangels, usually seen as four in number and for the first time named: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Sariel/Uriel (1 En. 9:1). Michael is identified as “your prince” who opposes the “prince of Persia” (Dan. 10:21; 12:1). While the first three beasts in Daniel’s vision are symbolic, the empires have a real angelic prince who contends with Israel’s princes and who is granted some continuing political power (7:12). The last beast is pure evil, exalting himself directly against the Most High and speaking blasphemy.28
The letters of Paul and the Revelation to John reflect the notion of an interim spiritual authority of the “principalities and powers” that will come to a climax with the arrival of the satanic beast and false prophet. Paul, it appears, has adopted Daniel’s view that the earthly empires, Rome in particular, continue to exercise power into the present time. Like Jesus, Paul acknowledges and even appeals to Caesar for justice (Acts 25:11; cf. Rom. 13:1–8; 1 Pet. 2:13). Surely this is the same power which in Paul’s view has been publicly superseded by Jesus Christ, who is the source of all authority, has disarmed the principalities through his death, and on whose behalf the church is called to proclaim the gospel before the principalities (Col. 1:16; 2:14–15; Eph. 3:10).
So while Paul seems to see a place for the principalities in the period between Christ’s ascension and his coming again, he is under no illusion about them, urging believers to stand firm against “the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12). He strikes a similar balance in addressing the Thessalonians about the end time. On the one hand, the restrainer is at work maintaining order during the period before the “man of lawlessness” ushers in utter chaos (2 Thess. 2:3–12). Both of these forces have a spiritual dimension; both may also be identified with a worldly power like Rome.
John foresees the endpoint of history, the final and complete apostasy of the “prince of this world,” who is also identified with the Dragon. The Dragon, who is Satan, the “ancient serpent,” is incarnated in two horrid beasts (Revelation 13). The first is a false messiah (antichrist) and his pseudo-kingdom; the second, the false prophet or “beast from the underworld,” is false religion. Together these demonic principalities wage war to the death against Christ and his people until Christ himself intervenes.
So for John, the crisis of history pits two intractably opposed powers. The first is thrown down from heaven. The second emerges before John’s eyes as a new regime of seven angels of the churches and twenty-four angelic elders. The seven angels serve the church militant, much as the apostles and prophets do, warning and comforting believers during the interim age. The elders are priest princes and the true and eternal council of God’s presence. They embody Jesus’ ethic of royal service, casting down their crowns (the only angelic crowns in Scripture) in worship of God and the Lamb. The elders, like the dethroned principalities, have a special governing role as they prepare the way for a renewed and universal human royalty in the New Jerusalem earth as “the kings of the earth bring their glory into it” (21:24).
What are we to conclude about the principalities and powers? Are they angels, are they demons, or are they human rulers? I believe it is clear that they are angelic, but they are neither holy angels nor Satan’s demonic cohort. They have indeed been infected by sin and are on their way to destruction, but they still share something of the honor of God’s created order. In a sense, the principalities are impersonal, something like corrupt, faceless bureaucrats, holding down an office while taking bribes on the side. Christians are called on to respect them for the sake of their office, even while recognizing their transiency and even their potential for great evil.
One controversial idea in recent times, associated with the missiologist Peter Wagner, has been that of “territorial spirits.”29 Wagner advocates specific prayer against these forces in order to open new mission fields. Walter Wink has, in his own way, described the political ideologies as powers, not merely ideas to be wrestled with like Jacob wrestled the angel. Without endorsing all the implications of Wagner’s and Wink’s views, I think the Bible does suggest that there is a heavenly dimension to earthly political regimes and cultural mores.
Angel Messengers and Militants
Angels are spiritual messengers. Messengers were widely known in the ancient world as intermediaries sent by kings or gods. The messenger was a servant of the word and of the presence of the sender. Biblical angels are normally anonymous. Holy angels are always truthful and trustworthy, as opposed to the “lying spirit.”
Angels appear in distinct roles during the dispensations of salvation history. In the patriarchal period, the prime actor is the “angel of the Lord,” who reveals obliquely the divine presence (an epiphany). The angel engages Abraham, to begin with, by appearing to his shunned concubine, Hagar (Gen. 16:7–14). Only after promising a future to her offspring does the angel, now appearing among the “three men,” turn to the patriarch himself, announcing the birth of Isaac. At the climactic test on Mount Moriah, Abraham is alone until he raises the knife over his son, at which point the angel calls “from heaven,” a sign of the greatness of God’s faith in his chosen (22:11).
Jacob, in his old age, describes his entire life as a series of angelic encounters (48:15–16). This may seem overly pious coming from such a devious grasper, but his epiphanies themselves are double-edged. The angels Jacob sees on the heavenly staircase may be the border guards of the Promised Land Jacob is fleeing; at the same time, they are bound on errands for the divine King of the whole earth and hence will secretly watch over Jacob in his exile (28:12). Returning years later, Jacob continues his lifelong pattern of manipulating relatives only to encounter a “man” whom he cannot wrestle down but who blesses him and gives him a new name—Israel (32:25). Only then does he realize that he is the heir of the promise and in the presence of God.
Angels are prominent in accompanying God’s people, particularly in the exodus from Egypt. The Lord himself appears to his people more directly at this time (a theophany) with the angels as acolytes, as an ancient piece of hymnody recounts: “The LORD came from Sinai . . . ; he shone forth . . . from the ten thousands of holy ones” (Deut. 33:2). The angel of the Lord continues to accompany the people from the Red Sea to the entry into the Promised Land, but Moses is the mediator par excellence of God’s word.
The activity of angels is often of a military cast. At the exodus, the angel of the Lord leads “the host of Israel” (Ex. 14:19). Later the “captain of the host” appears to Joshua, strengthening him for battle (Josh. 5:13–15). Elijah and Elisha were both recipients of visions of heavenly chariots and armies (2 Kings 2:11–12; 6:17; 7:6). Angels often execute God’s judgments, beginning with Sodom and extending to Ezekiel’s prophetic visions of angels destroying Jerusalem (Ezekiel 9–10). This tradition was picked up full strength by the sectarians at Qumran who envisioned a final battle between the “sons of light” and “sons of darkness” that would be capped off by the intervention of Michael and his host (1QM 18:1–2). Not surprisingly, in this role angels are also associated with death (1 Chron. 21:12; 2 Chron. 32:21; Ps. 35:5–6; Isa. 37:36) and deliverance (Isa. 63:9).
Finally, angels are bringers of good news of dawning salvation. Since the time and manner of the day of the Lord is obscure, angels may serve as forerunners and interpreters. Zechariah and Daniel in particular are instructed by an angel as to the meaning of their end-time dreams (Zechariah 1–6; Daniel 10–12). Noncanonical apocalypses such as Enoch and Jubilees are also narrated by an angel.
In the New Testament, angels take a second rank to Christ and the Spirit, but they continue to appear as messengers and militants. The nativity, Easter, and Pentecost angels bring good news of the birth and resurrection and ascension of Christ. In one of Jesus’ parables, the angels escort the beggar Lazarus to paradise (Luke 16:22). Angels appear from time to time to the apostles, as when Paul sees a “man of Macedonia” in his dream summoning him to bring the gospel to Europe (Acts 16:9). Finally, Jesus foresees angels coming with the Son of Man on the clouds of heaven and assisting in the final judgment (Matt. 13:39, 49; 16:27; 24:31, 36; 25:31, 41; Mark 14:62; Luke 12:8–9). Paul in his letters and John in the Apocalypse agree that an angel host will accompany Christ at his parousia (1 Thess. 3:13; 4:16; 2 Thess. 1:7; Rev. 19:11–14). The judgment includes not only humans but the disobedient angels and spirits as well, who are cast into the lake of fire once and for all (Matt. 25:41; Rev. 19:20; 20:10–15).30
Encountering angels as guides and guardians is, perhaps not surprisingly, the most common experience of angels in contemporary accounts.31 Not unlike their biblical forebears, many people testify to having been visited by an angel, sometimes identified as a mere stranger, at a time of need and conflict. While one may be skeptical about any one such testimony, the cumulative experience of human beings with the unseen world, and with angels in particular, may place the burden of proof on those who doubt.
One special case has to do with personal guardian angels. The biblical basis for this notion is as thin as an angel body: two rather obscure texts.32 In the first, Jesus says: “See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 18:10). In the second, the disciples in Acts, disbelieving that Peter could have escaped his prison and be at the gate, say to the serving girl: “You are out of your mind. . . . It is his angel!” (Acts 12:15). While these texts certainly can be interpreted as the basis for each believer’s having a personal heavenly guardian, it may be more prudent simply to affirm that saints above take a personal interest in the lives of saints below, individually and corporately. Notably, there is no reference to a singular angel of death, an idea known in later Jewish literature. Death, according to Paul, is personified as part of the human condition proceeding from sin, the last enemy defeated by Christ at his coming (1 Cor. 15:26).
Angels and the Fellowship of Heaven
One of the most powerful moments in the Anglican communion liturgy is “sursum corda and sanctus”:
Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. . . . Therefore with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious name, saying “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts.”
These words reach back to the vision of Isaiah and forward to the heavenly assembly in the epistle to the Hebrews (12:22–24) and the book of Revelation as a vivid expression of the communion that exists in heaven and earth of the one God.
It may come as a surprise to learn how little the idea of heaven and worship occurs in the Old Testament. Outside the particular ministry of the cherubim and seraphim, corporate praise by angels occurs in only two texts: Psalms 103 and 148. Both psalms involve a summons to universal praise, the former in ascending and the latter in descending order of hierarchy. In both psalms the emphasis is on the orderliness of praise, and we do not in fact hear the angels’ singing. This reticence, it seems to me, is of a piece with the general tendency of the Old Testament not to utter mysteries too great for earthbound creatures.
The idea of a communion of men and angels has found striking expression in the Dead Sea texts, in which the members confess that “God has joined their Assembly to the Sons of Heaven to be a Council of the Community, a foundation of the building of holiness, an eternal plantation throughout all ages to come” (1QS 11:7; 1QH 11[3]:19–23). The so-called Angelic Liturgy from Qumran appears to be a cycle of thirteen Sabbath songs recited, so they imagined, in conjunction with the priestly angels of the heavenly sanctuary (4QShirShabb). Despite participating in the heavenly worship, it is clear that the covenanters expected that at the end of days, proper worship of God would be restored to a cleansed temple in Jerusalem.
With the chorus of angels at Jesus’ birth, the New Testament proclaims that the heavens are opened. “No one has ever seen God,” John concludes; “the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (John 1:18). Jesus’ revelation of the Father is also a revelation of the kingdom of heaven. The first phrase of the Lord’s Prayer—“Our Father in the heavens”—followed by the petition that God’s will be done “on earth as in heaven,” suggests a coming harmony of heaven and earth. While angels never call God “Father,” the idea of a “family above” is known in rabbinic literature and may lie behind Paul’s prayer to “the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named” (Eph. 3:14–15).
One characteristic of the heavenly household is the exclusive obedience given to the Father’s will and service. Jesus calls his own disciples to put aside secondary attachments, especially those of family, for the sake of the kingdom. It is in this context that Jesus answers the Sadducees’ question about marriage in heaven:
Jesus said to them, “The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels [Gk. isangeloi; cf. Matt. 12:25: ‘like the angels’] and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection.” (Luke 20:34–36)
Jesus is not saying that humans become angels at the resurrection. He does imply that there is no need for sexual reproduction in the kingdom of heaven. Given the complexities of marriage and singleness on earth, his words may be taken to mean that there are no exclusive marital relations in the future dispensation; this does not mean, however, that there are no intimate relations of love that extend from one age to the next.33
The coming of the Holy Spirit opens up a new relationship between the earthly and heavenly congregations, especially in worship. Like the worshipers at Qumran, Christians find themselves in a spiritual temple when they pray (1 Cor. 3:16). Paul, in his famous but laconic phrase—“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels” (13:1)—seems to say that glossolalia may be considered an angelic language of sorts. In the same breath, he warns that worshiping with the angels is of secondary importance to seeking unity in the Spirit and performing acts of love.
The idea of angelic worship may also be a key to one of the Bible’s most obscure passages, where Paul exhorts women to cover their heads “because of the angels” (11:10). Three explanations have been given for these angels: (1) they are envious or lustful angels like the fallen Watchers; (2) they are principalities who uphold the social order, including gender proprieties; or (3) they are the holy angels before whom women are to cover themselves with modesty. The last explanation seems best, given the ideas of the Christian assembly as a holy temple where prophecy and angelic language may be spoken. But why then, one might ask, do male prophets uncover their heads while female prophets cover theirs? Perhaps Paul’s view is that while women are granted equal access to the presence of God in worship and prophecy, they need to acknowledge the “masculine” hierarchy of heaven by “taking authority for their head.”34
Compared to all the other books of the Bible, the Revelation to John is bursting with angels, which should not surprise since it is narrated from heaven and is a vision of the end of evil and the marriage of heaven and earth. At the same time, John scrupulously distinguishes events in heaven involving the angels from events on earth concerning the saints.35 The liturgies are sevenfold, involving angel-only (chaps. 4–5), human-only (14:2–4; 15:3–4), and joint choruses (7:9–12; 19:1–8) punctuated by a liturgical silence in heaven (8:1–2).
The book of Revelation recounts the fulfillment of the Lord’s Prayer: “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God” (12:10). The heavens are purged, the Dragon and his allies are thrown into the lake of fire, and the New Jerusalem descends from heaven as part of a new heaven and a new earth. Although an angel gives John a guided tour of the new city, now measured in angel cubits and with angels posted at the gates, it is not a city teeming with angels. It is, after all, part of the new earth, while angels presumably continue to abide in heaven. There is a new communion of angels and men, united in their spheres while worshiping God and the Lamb, but they still retain their original created distinctives.
Among modern theologians, Karl Barth most fully reflects on the significance of angels as fellow citizens of the kingdom of heaven. Heaven and earth are always twofold, he says, and heaven must always take preference because it is the prime dwelling place of God, the source of invisible created reality, the angels. Second, heaven is a regime that is on the move with God in history, and angels are the entourage that accompanies God’s coming. Finally, Barth claims that witness and worship are the essential marks of creaturely response to God’s gracious action, which brings us back to the sursum corda. Believers are invited to join in that chorus and to do so as “martyrs” along with the angels.36
Conclusion
So what can we say about the angels of heaven?37 Surely they are as real as heaven itself, subject to the doubts of unaided reason and affirmed by the same revealed word of scriptural authority (Rev. 22:6). As Hamlet reminded his university colleague, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” A sentiment to which the angels, no doubt, add their amen.
1 John MacArthur, The Glory of Heaven: The Truth about Heaven, Angels and Eternal Life (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1996), 147.
2 Susan R. Garrett, No Ordinary Angel: Celestial Spirits and Christian Claims about Jesus (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008), 6, begins by “bracketing the question of angels’ existence.”
3 See Francis Thompson’s “The Kingdom of God”: “The angels keep their ancient places— / Turn but a stone and start a wing!” The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse, ed. D. H. S. Nicholson and A. H. E. Lee (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1917), 245. Many Romantics, like William Blake and the pre-Raphaelites, sought to revive the angels as aesthetic objects even while doubting their ontological existence.
4 MacArthur, Glory of Heaven, chaps. 1–2. Garrett, No Ordinary Angel, gives a somewhat more sympathetic but critical review of some of the most recent angel appearances in contemporary culture.
5 Alister E. McGrath, A Brief History of Heaven (Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 2003), 141–46.
6 Randy Alcorn, Heaven (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale, 2004); and N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (New York: HarperCollins, 2008).
7 See, e.g., Anthony DeStefano, The Invisible World: Understanding Angels, Demons, and the Spiritual Realities That Surround Us (New York: Doubleday, 2011).
8 In Acts 8:26, an angel (exterior) addresses the evangelist Philip; in v. 27 the Spirit (interior) addresses him.
9 Stephen F. Noll, Angels of Light, Powers of Darkness: Thinking Biblically about Angels, Satan, and Principalities (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1998). See esp. 27–29 for the discussion of biblical theology.
10 C. J. Labuschagne, The Incomparability of Yahweh in the Old Testament (Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 1966).
11 Zechariah’s vision may suggest a purging of the old polytheistic council as part of God’s judgment at the time of exile.
12 Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, trans. Geoffrey Bromiley (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1960), 2.1.448.
13 My translation “godlings” is based on Ugaritic texts in which the lesser deities are sometimes called “nurslings of Athirat,” El’s wife. There is no reference in the OT to babies praising God. See Noll, Angels of Light, 58–61.
14 Lexically, the “sons of God” who take wives from the daughters of men in Gen. 6:1–4 are not human but corrupted divine beings, a theme picked up and expanded at length in the pseudepigraphal Enoch literature.
15 This idea informs the early Christian apocalypse called the Ascension of Isaiah 10–12, which describes Christ’s descent through the seven heavens to earth. At his resurrection and ascension, the angelic gatekeepers marvel that they did not recognize him on the way down.
16 Charles Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology: Antecedents and Early Evidence (Leiden: Brill, 1998).
17 Larry W. Hurtado, One God, One Lord: Early Christian Devotion and Ancient Jewish Monotheism (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1998).
18 Jeffrey Burton Russell has written the definitive “history of Satan.” See The Devil: Perceptions of Evil from Antiquity to Primitive Christianity (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1977).
19 Milton’s Satan, Paradise Lost, 4.516, seeks to know “in what degree or meaning Thou art called Son of God, which bears no single sense.”
20 Graham H. Twelftree, Jesus the Exorcist: A Contribution to the Study of the Historical Jesus (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993).
21 In the New Testament Satan is given the title “prince” (archon) but never “king” (basileus).
22 Milton, Paradise Lost, 10.504ff.
23 Barth, Church Dogmatics, 3.3.373–430 (angels); 3.3.523 (Satan).
24 Walter Wink, Unmasking the Powers: The Invisible Forces That Determine Human Existence (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986), 34.
25 See, e.g., Screwtape Letters and Perelandra.
26 The textual basis for the last phrase “sons of God” (bene elohim) comes from the Qumran manuscript, whereas the Masoretic text has “sons of Israel.” The Greek Bible agrees with Qumran, translating “angels of God.”
27 In Paul’s thought there is also a close connection between principalities and powers and “elements of the world” (Gal. 4:3).
28 Many commentators identify the three beasts with Babylon, Media, and Persia, and the fourth as Greece, culminating with Antiochus IV Epiphanes (the “little horn,” Dan. 7:8) who placed an idol in the Jerusalem sanctuary and banned the Mosaic law in Judea in 164 BC.
29 Engaging the Enemy: How to Fight and Defeat Territorial Spirits (Ventura, CA: Regal, 1991).
30 Several NT passages (Jude 6; 1 Pet. 3:19; 2 Pet. 2:14) suggest a preliminary binding of the rebellious angels in Hades. This idea is found also in the books of Enoch and Jubilees.
31 The literature on this subject is voluminous. See, e.g., Hope Price, Angels: True Stories of How They Touch Our Lives (London: Macmillan, 1993).
32 From the Apocrypha see also the role of Raphael in the book of Tobit.
33 Western churches have seen marriage as ceasing at death; the Orthodox, however, believe that in marriage the couple is sealed for all eternity, although without procreation in heaven.
34 Despite some attempts to speak of “wearing an authority on the head,” the better translation suggests that women voluntarily cover their heads out of reverence for God and Christ (cf. vv. 2–3).
35 The vision of the martyrs in Rev. 7:1–12 is proleptic and hence not out of order.
36 It is reported that the Uganda martyrs sang this hymn as they died in the fire: “In the midst of that dear City, Christ is reigning on His seat, / And the angels swing their censers in a ring about His feet. / O that I had wings of angels, Here to spread, and heaven-ward fly! / I would seek the gates of Zion, Far beyond the starry sky.”
37 For a summary, see Noll, Angels of Light, 202–5.