by Max Lucado
“Yes, Gabriel, I do. The Rebellion was a mistake. Come with me. We will reason with Lucifer. I long to return to heaven. I long to know my former splendor.”
By now my plan was clear. “Wonderful news, Phlumar!”
I sensed the surprise on the faces of my angels. “Our God is a good God,” I announced. “Slow to anger and quick to forgive. Surely He has heard your confession.” I paused and elevated closer to his face and looked into his eyes. “Let us then lift our voices together in praise.”
Fear flashed across Phlumar’s face. Sophio, perceiving my strategy, announced the truth: “You must worship the Lord your God!”
“But—but—but I don’t remember any of the words.”
Realizing Phlumar’s true intent, my soldiers began to encircle him. I moved even closer and spoke firmly, “Surely you are willing to worship our Master. Surely you haven’t forgotten the songs of worship. Open your mouth and confess the name of the Lord!”
Phlumar looked to the right and left but saw no escape. “Join us,” I dared. “If your heart is truly changed, worship with us.” I pulled out my sword. “If not, prepare to fight us.”
Phlumar knew he’d been foiled. His mouth would not—could not—praise the Almighty God. His heart belonged to Satan. He swung his neck to one side, preparing to sweep us into the next galaxy. Had we only our strength he would have succeeded. The collective might of our troops could not have resisted his force. But we were empowered from on high. And endued with God’s strength, we pounced on the demon in a second.
Before he had a chance to attack, his leathery skin was invaded by swords of Light. It melted like wax. What little flesh still clung to his bones was instantly blotched and infected. Froth fell from his jaws. He opened his mouth and howled a cry as lonely as the skies have heard.
“Kill me,” he begged, his voice now husky. He knew any death we gave him would be gracious in comparison to the punishment which awaited him from the hands of Lucifer.
“The angels are kept in bonds for judgment,” I reminded him. “Only the Father can kill the eternal.” With a twist of our swords we cast this demon of death into the Abyss. For an instant I was sorrowful for this creature. But the sorrow was brief as I remembered how quickly he had followed the prince and his false promises.
I lifted my voice in praise both for our victory and my salvation. I could not help but think of the prophecy the Father spoke to me: “As much as we seek to bring the Seed, so Satan seeks to destroy it.”
Lifting hands heavenward, we proclaimed His name above all names as we resumed our journey. Soon we came into the Earth’s solar system. I lifted my head as a signal for the army to slow down. The atmosphere of Terra surrounded us, and I searched for the tiny strip of land inhabited by the promised people.
How precious is this globe to Him! I thought. Other orbs are larger. Others grander. But none so suited for Adam and his children. And now the hour of the delivery was at hand. Below me was the small town where God’s Chosen One slept.
“I see you have made it safely.”
It was the voice I dreaded. Instantly he was before us. We had no option but to stop.
“You are wearing your old uniform, Lucifer,” I accused.
The true angels were entranced at his appearance. As was I. Was this the same devil who had repulsed me in the throne room?
His hoarse whisper was now a vibrant baritone. The skeletal figure now robust and statuesque. Next to his light, our whiteness was gray and dirty. Next to his voice, our voices were but a whimper. We raised our swords, but they flickered like candles against the sun.
My battalions looked upon the devil in confusion. Before the send-off Michael had tried to warn them, but no words prepare you for Lucifer. Without speaking a word, he enchants. Without lifting a weapon, he disarms. Without a touch, he seduces. Angels have been known to follow him without resistance.
But I had the words of the Father in my heart. “He has been a liar since the beginning.”
The devil looked at me with a soft smile. “Gabriel, Gabriel. How many times have I spoken your name? My servants can tell you. I have followed you through the years. You are one loyal angel. And now your loyalty is rewarded. The mission of missions.”
He threw back his head and laughed, not an evil laugh but a godlike one. How well he imitates the King!
“It’s no imitation,” he said as if he could read my mind. “It’s genuine. I rejoice that you have passed our test.”
My face betrayed my perplexity.
“Has He not informed you, my friend? How wise is our heavenly Father. How gracious that He should allow me the privilege of telling you. This has been a trial of your loyalty. Your whole mission was a test. The Day of Sorrows. The heavenly Rebellion. The falling of the angels. My visit in the throne room. The net. Phlumar. All of that was to test you, to train you. And now, O Gabriel, the King and I congratulate you. You have proven faithful.”
I thought I knew every scheme of Lucifer, every misdeed, every lie. I thought I had anticipated each possible move. I was wrong. This one I never imagined . . . Oh, is he sly. He sounded so sincere.
“Do you honestly think I could rebel against God?” he implored. “The Father of Truth? Why, I love Him.”
His grand voice choked with emotion. “He created me. He gave me free will. And all this time I have worshiped Him from afar so that you could be tested. And now, my friend, you have passed the Father’s test. Why else would He allow you to witness my visit to heaven? It was all a staged event: God’s magnum opus to test your dedication.”
His words tugged at my breast. My sword dropped to one side and my shield to the other. My thoughts swam. What is this I feel? What is this power? I know he is evil, yet I find myself weakening. I, at once, long to love and kill him, to trust and deny him. I turned to look at Aegus and Paragon. They, too, had dropped their weapons, their faces softening as they began to believe the words the Deceiver spoke. Behind them, our armies were relaxing. One by one the swords were dimming. Incredible. With only a few words Lucifer could harness legions. Is this really true? He looks and sounds so much like the Father . . . All of us were beginning to fall under his control.
All, that is, except one. In the distance I saw Sophio. His eyes were not on Lucifer. He was looking heavenward. I could hear his declaration, mounting in volume with each phrase. “Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God!”
Sophio’s prayer was a beam into the sky. With my eyes I followed the shaft of Light. At its end I could see my Father standing. One glimpse of His glory and my confusion cleared. I snapped erect and repositioned my shield. Lucifer, for the first time, saw Sophio praying. His smile vanished; then he forced it to return.
He spoke faster, but the true rasp of his voice was returning. “The Father awaits us, Gabriel. Let us smash the vial in celebration of the Father’s victory. Let us return with joy. Your mission is complete. You will be rewarded with a throne like mine. You will be like God.”
If Satan had any chance, he just lost it. “Liar!” I defied. “I have heard those words before. I have heard that promise. It is a lie, and you are the father of lies. You stink, you buzzard. To hell with you!”
Though I knew my sword would not stop Lucifer, still I unsheathed my weapon. “Almighty God, save us!” I prayed. He did. My sword projected a Light far greater than ever before—a Light so bright that Lucifer covered his eyes and released a deluge of curses.
I turned to my angels; they were again alert and poised, the spell broken and their courage restored. They lifted their swords in defiance. The ever-increasing Light illuminated the devil, revealing what I had seen in the throne room, only now his hood lay back. The skullish face violated the sky.
I drove my Light into the devil’s heart. As I did, Aegus did the same from the other side.
Satan s
creamed, writhing in pain as our Lights fused in purging heat. From within him scampered the ogres of a thousand miseries: loneliness, anger, fear.
In one final, desperate attempt, Lucifer twisted toward me and lunged at heaven’s vial.
He never had a chance. Paragon’s sword swept out of the sky, severing Satan’s hand from his arm, sending it spiraling into the night. A wave of stench forced us to lift our shields before our faces. Satan threw back his head, his visage contorted in pain. The voice which only moments before had charmed, now hissed.
“I’ll be back!” Lucifer swore. “I’ll be back.”
Sophio shook his head in disgust. “Disguised as an angel of Light . . . ,” he said softly.
As quickly as he had appeared, Satan was gone. And we erupted in praise.
“Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!”
“King of kings and Lord of lords!”
As the Father received our praise, He whispered to me. I heard Him as if at my side. “Go, Gabriel, go and tell Mary.”
On a wave of worship I flew, this time alone. I circled through the clouds and over the ground. Below me was the city where Mary was born. The Father was right; I knew her in an instant. Her heart had no shadow. Her soul was as pure as any I’ve seen.
I made the final descent. “Mary.” I kept my voice low so as not to startle her.
She turned but saw nothing. Then I realized I was invisible to her. I waved my wings before my body and incarnated. She covered her face at the Light and shrank into the protection of the doorway.
“Don’t be afraid,” I urged.
The minute I spoke, she looked up toward the sky. Again I was amazed. I praised my Father for His wisdom. Her heart is so flawless, so willing. “Greetings. God be with you.”
Her eyes widened, and she turned as if to run. “Mary, you have nothing to fear. You have found favor with God. You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call His name Jesus. He will be great. He will be called the Son of the Highest. The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David; He will rule Jacob’s house forever—no end, ever, to His kingdom.”
Though she was listening, she was puzzled.
“But how? I’ve never slept with a man.”
Before I spoke I looked up into the heavens. The Father was standing, giving me His blessing.
I continued, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Highest hover over you; therefore, the child you bring to birth will be called Holy, Son of God. Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.”
Mary looked at me, then up into the sky. For a long time she gazed into the blueness, so long that I, too, looked up. Did she see the angels? Did the heavens open? I do not know. But I do know when I looked back at her, she was smiling.
“Yes, I see it all now: I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say.”
As she spoke, a Light appeared in her womb. I glanced at the vial. It was empty.
Joseph led the donkey off the side of the road and rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Let’s find a place to spend the night. It’ll be dark before we reach Bethlehem.”
Mary didn’t respond. Joseph walked around the side of the animal and looked into his wife’s face. She was asleep! Chin on her chest, hands on her stomach. How had she been able to doze off while riding on the back of a donkey?
Suddenly her head popped up and her eyes opened. “Are we there?”
“No.” The young husband smiled. “We still have several hours to go. I see an inn up ahead. Shall we spend the night?”
“Oh, Joseph. I’m feeling we should continue until we reach Bethlehem.” Then she paused. “Perhaps we can stop for a rest.”
He sighed, smiled, squeezed her hand, and resumed his place, leading the donkey toward the simple structure on the side of the road. “It’s crowded,” Joseph said as he lowered Mary to the ground. It took several minutes for Joseph to find a bench where the two could sit.
“I’ll return in a moment with something to eat.”
Joseph elbowed his way through the crowd. He turned around in time to see a woman take his empty seat next to Mary. Mary started to object, but then she smiled, looked through the crowd at Joseph, and shrugged.
Not an unkind bone in her body, he mused.
Of all the bizarre events over the last few months, he was sure of one thing: the heart of his wife. He’d never met anyone like her. Her story that an angel appeared in the middle of the afternoon? Could have been some kid playing a trick. His memory of an angel appearing in his sleep? Could have been from God . . . could have been from too much wine. Her story about her uncle being struck speechless until the cousin was born? Could have been laryngitis.
But her story about being a pregnant virgin? Mary doesn’t lie. She’s as pure as an angel. So if Mary says she’s a virgin, she is. If she says the baby is the Son of God, let’s just hope He gets His nose from the Father’s side of the family.
Mary—round-faced and short—wasn’t a beauty by any means. A bit hefty even before she was pregnant. But her eyes always twinkled, and her heart was bigger than the Mediterranean. She had an ever-present smile and the countenance of a person about to deliver the punch line of a good joke. That’s what made Mary, Mary. Joseph shook his head as Mary pushed herself to her feet so the husband of the woman who’d taken Joseph’s seat could sit down.
The man started to object, but she waved him off. “I need to stand for a minute,” she mouthed to Joseph as she walked in his direction. Or waddled in his direction. They’d both hoped the baby would come in Nazareth; at least they had family there. They knew no one in Bethlehem.
Joseph tucked her arm in his, and the two leaned against a wall. “You sure you want to go farther?”
She nodded, and after more than a few “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s,” the two found their way to the door.
“One more drink of water?” Mary asked.
“Of course. Wait outside.”
Mary leaned against a tree as Joseph stood in line at the well. She smiled at the way he quickly struck up a conversation with the man in front of him. When he returned carrying water, the man came with him.
“Mary, this is Simon. He’s also going to Bethlehem and has offered us a place to sit in his ox cart.”
“That’s kind of you.”
Simon smiled. “I’d enjoy the company. Just tie your donkey to the back.”
“Excuse me. I heard you say Bethlehem. Would you have room for one more?”
The request came from an old man with a long silver beard and the fringes of a rabbi. Simon quickly nodded.
After helping Mary into the wagon, Joseph turned to help the rabbi. “What was your name?”
“Gabriel,” I answered and took a seat across from Mary.
Aegus hovered in front of the wagon and Paragon behind. Both were alert, wings spread and swords drawn. Up until the stop at the inn, I had flown with them. But something seemed suspicious about the wagon, so I took the form of a person. I quickly regretted not having chosen the appearance of a young merchant (the beard I wore itched horribly).
My battalion didn’t need me to remind them, but I did anyway: “Hell does not want Immanuel born. Stay alert.”
Invisible angels a dozen deep encircled the wagon. I smiled to myself. Simon could have driven blindfolded. There was no way this cart would have failed to reach its destination.
The congested road slowed our progress. We traveled no faster than those around us on foot, but at least Mary could rest. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the wagon. I could see the radiance in her womb. He glowed like a healing fire. I worshiped Him, even unborn. My heart celebrated with silent songs of praise which He could hear. I smiled as Mary felt Him move. Around me the army heard my song and joined in praise.
About an hour later I sensed it. Evil. My body tensed. The feel of deviltry was on the road, lurking among the travelers. I alerted the angels. “Be ready.” Sophio ente
red the cart and whispered, “He prowls as a lion, looking for someone to devour.” I nodded in agreement and searched the faces of those walking near the wagon.
A young man approached the cart. He asked Mary, “You look tired. Would you like some water?” Mary said, “Thank you,” and reached for the offered wineskin. I jumped to my feet, purposefully bumping the demon’s arm. The water pouch fell to the ground as Mary and Joseph heard me apologize. Only the young man heard me challenge him: “Beast of hell, you shall not touch this daughter of God.”
The demon vacated the body of the man and drew a sword. “You have no chance this time, Gabriel,” he cried, and suddenly dozens of demons appeared from all sides and raced toward Mary.
“Joseph,” she spoke, her face full of pain as she held her womb, “something’s wrong. It—it’s like something’s hitting me in the stomach. I’m in terrible pain.”
Instantly I assumed angelic form and wrapped myself around her as a shield. The demons’ swords pierced me. I felt their sting—but she was safe. Just then Paragon and seven angels appeared, slashing at the demons’ backs. The demons were distracted but determined.
The wagon began to shake. Travelers began to panic. I heard a cry. I looked up in time to see Simon clutch his throat. His face was red, and his eyes bulged. Around his neck I could see the spiny fingers of a troll. Another demon had bewitched the ox, causing it to lurch spastically toward the side of the road.
Someone screamed, “Stop the wagon; there’s a cliff ahead!”
A courageous man attempted to grab the reins, but he couldn’t move. Afterward he told people he was frozen with fear. I knew otherwise: a demon had webbed him to the road.
Simon gasped for breath and slumped sideways on the seat. I knew he was dead. The possessed animal swerved madly toward the cliff. I looked at Mary. Joseph’s arm was around her shoulders; her hand was on her round stomach. I knew that in a matter of seconds we would crash over the edge into the valley below. The driver was dead; the wagon was out of control. I turned and prayed to the only One who could help.
