“Well, you look about the kind of angel I’d get. Sort of a fallen angel, aren’t you? What happened to your wings?” George Bailey snidely remarks to the affable stranger Clarence.
“I haven’t won my wings, yet. That’s why I’m called an Angel Second Class. I have to earn them. And you’ll help me will you?” Clarence intently pleads.
George looks at him in exhaustion and says sarcastically, “Sure, sure. How?”
“By letting me help you.”
“I know one way you can help me. You don’t happen to have 8,000 bucks on you?”
“No, we don’t use money in Heaven.”
“Well, it comes in real handy down here, bud!”
I’ve always loved It’s a Wonderful Life, perhaps for the feel of a bygone day, perhaps because we can unapologetically assert that every life does have meaning. After several discussions lately, however, I wonder how we feel about Clarence, this unrefined angel-in-training.
Our faith is founded upon a series of visits by various angels, or beings who have lived on this earth and completed their mortal experience. First Jehovah, then Moroni (several times), John the Baptist, Peter, James, John, Moses, Elijah, Elias, Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, Enoch, possibly more. It stretches the imagination of many moderns to consider such a permeable veil around the earth. Indeed, as one commenter noted, at times the claim of visitation of supernatural beings was sufficient to get one committed. We could spend a great deal of time on why it is less believable now than a couple of centuries ago, but today I’m wondering if it is believable at all.
Our record of previous eras, the scriptural record at least, is rife with examples of angelic visitation. Abraham was visited by three angels, which may or may not have included Jehovah, but he seems to have visited the Father of the Faithful at other times. Mary was surprised by Gabriel.
Zacharias saw an angel in the temple and several women saw angels at Jesus’ tomb. In the Book of Mormon, both the wicked and the righteous saw angels: Laman and Lemuel were only temporarily affected by their experience, but Nephi, Lehi, and the brother of Jared were enobled and taught through theirs.
Alma and his friends, like Paul, were rescued from lives of persecution to become advocates for the cause. Peter, James, and John were empowered while in the cause by visits from several beings, as were Oliver Cowdery and Martin Harris – for the former it was a permanent transition, and for the latter it lacked staying power. Mary Whitmer was shown the gold plates by an angel, apparently merely as a reward for her persevering faith.
In the decades following his passing, several prophets spoke of visits from Joseph Smith, in visions as well as dreams. He had various messages to bring, from clarifying church procedure on sealing blessings to imparting comfort and counsel to leaders filling his shoes. A few selected prophets have discussed visions or appearances of the Savior, but nothing very specific for nearly a century. While discussions of revelation and the need for it have continued with increased regularity, few people discuss supernatural experiences publicly.
Within western culture, almost whimsically, the idea of post-mortals visiting for our welfare is restricted to science fiction, with their completely acceptable appearance nested in a tale of otherworldliness that has already anesthetized the reader’s or viewer’s skepticism. Like the popular comic created in the latter part of the twentieth century by Bill Keane in which his family circus was often kept intact by the exhaustive efforts of a grandfather guardian angel, the public attitude about post-mortal guardians is charmed, if dismissive. One writer has hypothesized that women tend to have more visionary spiritual experiences because they are more intuitive and more likely to expect and believe in the supernatural, while hinting that a tendency to flights of fancy increases their prevalence as well.
I am inclined (tongue firmly out of my cheek) to agree. Our early experience – the soup we’re cooked in – has a lasting effect on our outlook and expectations. Because of the commonality of stories of spiritual experience in my growing years, I found the supernatural acceptable as long as it was instructive, protective, and supportive. Very like the soup Joseph was cooked in, the flavor of post-mortal contact permeated the texture of my expectations.
My mother was mesmerized by the story of Paul when she was a young teen and though her family was not religious, she prayed fervently that God would show himself to her. While walking by their barn, she saw a man from the chest up, rather like a sculpted bust of an angel. It was there only a moment, and she later felt that it was a prophet like John the Baptist rather than Jesus himself, but the experience prepared her to fully embrace a gospel restored by angels when she heard it in her twenties, and no further education nor maturity could strip from her the assurance that she had seen it.
She had many experiences through the years that she shared freely, including pigs wandering across a hillside that aligned perfectly when she asked in desperation for God’s help and feelings of distinct individuals to protect her during times of great fear. I grew up expecting that the veil was only as thick as it needed to be and that God sent seasoned saints to assist us when we needed, which likely made possible my own encounters. These experiences, unfolding in the life of someone young and foolish (albeit intent), also left me undisturbed by the historical facts of the restoration that are more troublesome to others.
The words of Alma to the poor Zoramites resonate with me regarding faith. In our own day we would likely scientifically parse the development of perfect faith as the stages of psychosis. “Profound desire shapes our interpretation of experience, expectation builds upon these false premises, and increasingly psychotic episodes create an alternate reality completely divorced from the real world.” So say skeptics. It’s entirely unprovable, which is the point from the outset. The spirit of peace and power that permeates the experience must be interpreted by the one experiencing it, and is the most profound proof.
This alone – this mandate to experience – is why I’m personally a fan of keeping it private except in intimate settings where the spirit can be more fully explored. Stripped of these compelling structures, acquaintance with post-mortals as experienced by unremarkable people is laughable, and few of us have the internal resolve or prophetic endowment to withstand skepticism that often borders on the destructive. Like Mary, I’m inclined to encourage to “keep these things and ponder them” in one’s heart.
I’ve stripped this post of the multitudinous source links that I initially felt compelled to place here. In making this more about personal perspective, I can now ask yours – not your thoughts about what we should think, or what we can find source support for, but what you feel in your gut. I’m interested in an anecdotal discussion evaluating the soup you were cooked in.
- Do you believe that angels visit the earth in our day?
- Do you believe unremarkable people are worth post-mortal attention?
- If you do, would you call them guardian angels or do you think of them as infrequent messengers to the outstanding?
- Would you characterize them as more Clarence, Grandpa, Obi-wan, or Moroni?
I have very structured thoughts on the subject, but I’ll defer them for now to watch the discussion.
Cheryl
June 2, 2012
Yes, I do believe they visit us.
I think every person is remarkable and worthy of the attention of angels.
Personal experiences have shown me that simply having a thought about my grandfather or uncle or great-grandmother (all now passed on) gives me strength. I like to believe that it is because they are next to me, whispering support and love. I don’t know if I have ever seen an angel –I have never seen my passed on relatives except in my memory –but I feel certain that they are around us.
In what form? That’s an interesting question, because I know for a fact that they come in the form of Moroni. (wink,wink) But as to the average layman? Would they come differently than they would to modern prophets? And why did they come in glorious form to those we read about in scriptures? How do they come?
I love hearing about the miracles during the Pioneer Trek –average looking men providing relief and then vanishing quietly without drawing attention.
I have never had a miraculous encounter with angels, but I still know they come now. It just makes sense to me.
Bonnie
June 2, 2012
Cheryl, nice to meet up with you here! I, too, have wondered how many people see angels in glorious form, as you describe. I hadn’t thought for awhile about the pioneers on the trek and relieving angels, focusing instead on instructing angels … that’s something to continue to think about tonight. It makes sense to me too. I’m going to write a followup post in the next few days.
Marjorie Conder
June 4, 2012
Angels are very real to me. I was the curator of the Church’s sesquicentennial exhibit on the RS. It was the best of times, the worst of times and an experience I do not expect to fully understand while I am yet in this sphere. On several especially daunting passages on the way to this exhibit I knew I was surrounded by beings from another realm. While I never saw them, they did become my friends, which is how I think about them. They encouraged, instructed and comforted me. I have speculated with my husband about who they might be and I have some ideas about some (but not all) of them. It seems to me that there are a dozen or so of them. I have had several additional encounters with them in the years since, and I believe they will be among the first people I greet when I “shoot on over.” For the record, my angels are all clearly female.
Bonnie
June 5, 2012
Marjorie, honored to have you stop in. I’ve had a number of people working on special projects tell me that they don’t quite know how to describe their experiences either. And I love that you describe them as your friends! I have had presences that grew so familiar that I would describe them that way as well, and I genuinely look forward to meeting them more fully. My angels, all but one, have also been female. Thanks for sharing your experience.
misssrobin
June 6, 2012
Funny you would write about this now. I have been pondering this very topic, or one very close to it, for a while now. I’ll be writing about it soon.
* I absolutely believe angels visit the earth in our day and time.
* I don’t believe there are any unremarkable people, just people I don’t understand yet or can’t see the glory of. We are each God’s children and therefore entitled to His intervention.
* Hm. What to call them is tricky? I would call them guides. Giving direction. Understanding. Strength. Showing us our worth and strength. Showing us God’s power and love. I would call them teachers. Family. Friends.
* Any or all of the above, whatever would reach us best individually. I believe God communicates to us in individual ways. He knows what I will understand and how that might be different from what will move you. I don’t think He tries to make it hard. I think we sometimes do, though.
Fun thoughts.
Bonnie
June 9, 2012
I’ve thought all week about writing a follow-up post, but I’m not reconciled to how to speak in detail about my experiences with an audience that isn’t present. I decided instead to speak generally and keep it to a comment.
I believe that we are quite intimately connected to the spirit world, but that the veil serves such important purposes that it’s not often permeable for us. I believe that the natural order of things is that people who already have an experience turn to help those who are having it and that most of eternity is structured around that principle, with post-mortals the most natural guides for mortals. I believe that when people have lived they better know how to succor those who are living, so there is a sort of Home Teaching/Visiting Teaching program going on. Some would call that guardian angels. I think of it more as assignments. I’ve felt the presence of different people at different times for different purposes, so it makes me believe those assignments change from time to time, as also one would infer from Marjorie’s comments about the assistance she received while a long-time curator for the Museum of Church History.
I have also “seen” people on a number of occasions, always to bring a message that I needed at that time. (I would clarify that I’ve never seen anyone that I thought I could reach out and touch, but rather understood so perfectly that they were there, what they looked like, what they were doing, and it was definitely within my mind like a video playing in quite fine detail on a screen there.) I’m not sure if seeing is a gift of the spirit, and I’m not sure if we could all develop the ability to see the people who deliver assorted messages to us. I’m not sure if that would always be a good thing. There have been plenty of times when I wondered why I saw an individual when other times would seem to have merited a visitation more. Just as I have never had a bit of control over when I received a visit, I’ve never had a bit of control over what it entailed. It was merely a gift and I’m grateful for it.
I wholeheartedly concur with Elder Scott’s last conference talk in which he talked about us perceiving according to our need and perception, and I would imagine that some of what I’ve seen was structured by my own needs. For instance, once my mother was working under a bushhog (a large mower that is pulled by a tractor) and the hydraulics were leaking. She had raised it and was unwinding a rope from the shaft, but it was slowly coming down on her (it wasn’t running – please don’t be horrified – she would have been trapped under something she couldn’t move, however, and she wasn’t near the shop where she could block it up.) She plead with the Lord to, for crying out loud, send her a farmer! Within a moment she felt a presence and thoughts for how to unwind the rope quickly came to her mind. The presence felt to her in personality very like the old farmers with whom she was familiar. Was it an old farmer who was sent? Or was it merely the style of presence she needed to trust and accept the counsel? I don’t know. Twice I have almost felt a touch, but it was more the sense of what a touch would feel like if I could feel it, or perhaps a memory of being touched – that kind of sense. These experiences make me feel that much of this exists on a spiritual plane that operates differently than the physical plane.
Lastly, I know that people are concerned for our welfare. The overwhelming continuity of these experiences in my life and in the lives of people I know who have experienced the parting veil is that we are helped much more than we might realize and that the spirit world is much more integrated with ours than we might guess. It is a comfort that makes the vagaries of this life, the “tether and pang of the particular” as CS Lewis called it, less permanent or potentially marring. This whole life feels to me like a grand adventure with a broad safety net and many watchful … angels.