Version 2 (1,290 words)
Psychopomp
I am a psychopomp in the army of Azrael, the archangel of death. My task is to collect the souls of humans when they die. Until the moment of their death, the humans we harvest cannot see us, although occasionally great saints or sinners, or those who are especially perceptive, seem to see us approaching.
“Fear not!” Is the greeting we use, although it is rarely successful in calming anyone, and although many souls may, indeed, have good reason to fear. We are forbidden to console or condemn them. I am permitted to inform them that they have died, and that they will be judged by our all-just and infinitely merciful God. Some try to fight me; others try to bribe me; many fall into fervent prayer, which I must tell them is of no avail after death.
For hundreds and thousands of years I served God obediently, bringing millions of souls to Him. The girl was no different from the others. She was very poor and very sick, lying alone on a straw pallet in an unheated, unlit garret. She was also very young and very innocent. Moonlight fell on her damp, white face. She appeared to be made of pearl. I realized that she could see me. I started to say, “Fear not!” but her sweet, shivery voice silenced me:
“Angel of God, my guardian dear,
to whom His love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard, to rule and guide.”
“I am not your guardian angel. I have come to return you to the God who made you, a God of love and mercy.”
“I know you are here to bring me death. Thank you.”
She showed no fear of me. Her name was Margaret. She opened her heart to me, and instantly I knew her entire life. She had suffered much, having lost her whole family to war and misfortune, and having endured wracking pain during her own final illness, but never having abandoned her faith in God.
Angels do not feel the pale emotions of humans. We have no gender, and so are incapable of romantic love. We feel the intensity of God’s love directly and share His Beatific Vision, thus we cannot experience faint human love any more than a human could hear the sound of a leaf falling in an avalanche. Nevertheless, I felt something break open inside me, and an outpouring of intense compassion. I wanted to protect her from the death that I was required to bring her.
She grew up on a small farm many miles from the city in which I found her, the oldest daughter of a poor farmer. During one of the many wars that plagued the country, her oldest brother had served as a spy for the invading army. He was captured and killed by the partisans, and her parents were killed trying to interfere in his arrest. The soldiers seized the farm and sent Margaret and her two younger brothers to the city where they found work. Margaret became a housemaid, doing the most menial tasks and sleeping in the drafty garret where she now lay. Her brothers became chimney sweepers. Within three months both boys had died, their lungs filled with deadly soot.
Margaret endured harsh treatment from her employer and from the other members of the domestic staff. She was given inadequate food, and as winter approached, her unheated sleeping quarters became unbearably cold. One morning she woke coughing and found blood on the sleeve of her nightgown. One of the other maids saw the blood and told the mistress of the house—a sullen, complaining woman. This maid had a cousin who needed employment. She hoped to move her into Margaret’s place.
“It has come to my attention that you are unable to continue performing your assigned duties, Margaret.” A hint of cruel glee played on her cold lips.
“No, Ma’am! I promise that my tasks will all be done well.” Margaret looked around for help from one of the other girls, all of whom were listening in the adjoining room. “Please, Ma’am, I just have a cold. I will be fine in a day or two, and all my work will be done.” Margaret had seen another girl who developed her symptoms die a few years earlier in spite of all attempts to save her. She knew she was seriously ill.
“You may stay for the present, but you will be watched closely. If you cannot perform your duties, you must leave my employment.”
“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Ma’am.” Margaret scrubbed as many pots and floors as she could, then pulled herself up the stairs to her pallet as if climbing the Matterhorn. She could not eat, and she alternated between burning fever and icy chills. She lay down, piled her meager collection of clothes over herself, and prayed as she waited for me to come.
I also knew that Margaret had never been baptized. Her parents had not been believers and had refused to bring any of their children to the font of salvation. As a girl, she had learned her catechism from a neighbor and had embraced her faith with passionate sincerity. It had never occurred to the neighbor that the girl had not been baptized as an infant.
I felt an irresistible desire to protect Margaret, and thought I would use the water in her pitcher to administer the sacrament that would open the gates of heaven for her. I knew in that moment that I had sinned. We angels are forbidden to interfere in this way. The sacraments are only for living humans. I prayed that God would forgive me, but also that He would allow me to spare her. I knew that neither of these prayers could be granted. We angels are God’s older children, made of light and spirit to serve Him, unshielded by flesh from His terrible love. We were given free will to choose whether to serve Him in perfect obedience or to defy Him in rebellion. For us, this decision, made in eternity, outside time, was permanent and irrevocable. If we sinned, we could expect no Redeemer.
I felt a gray fog surround me and seemed to be flying, propelled by a great wind. The fog vanished and I stood before the Throne of God with Margaret at my side. To the left of God, the Father, was a vast pit filled with darkness visible. Blind faces of fallen angels rose like steam from a cauldron, then fell immediately back into the pitchy stew. To the right of God, the Father, were the Son and the Holy Spirit, flanked by battalions of angel warriors rising in winged ranks, wearing rainbow armor and singing His praise. Behind the Throne, a cloud of witnesses awaited each judgment.
I could not hide myself, but I tried to stand between God and Margaret. I was sure that I would be flung into the pit for my disobedience. I tried to ask God’s forgiveness for myself and His mercy for Margaret. Before I could speak, each Person of the Trinity reached out. I prepared myself to be torn apart, but saw each of the three hands extend a finger over Margaret’s forehead and release one drop of water onto it. At that moment her soul left her body and joined the cloud of witnesses behind the Throne. I found my voice: “Oh, God, forgive my disobedience and save me from the pit.” At once the gray fog surrounded me and I was returned to the garret. Margaret’s body lay at peace on the straw pallet.
I heard God’s voice in my mind, speaking with utter authority: “The angels in the pit sinned by their pride and wrath. You are not condemned because your disobedience was from love and compassion. Love covers a multitude of sins. Go forth in faith, knowing that your God can perform His miracles in ways you cannot understand.”
Version 1 (960 words)
Psychopomp
We are God’s older children, made to serve Him, unshielded by flesh from His terrible love. We were created on the First Day. God called His light into being, and we poured forth, reflected from and illuminating the face of His Wisdom and Word, and so able to know Him intimately. We were given free will to choose whether to serve Him in obedience or to defy Him in rebellion. But for us, this decision, made in eternity, outside time, was irrevocable. If we sinned, we could expect no Redeemer.
In the instant of our creation and exaltation, God read our spirits and cast half of us from His presence into a pit of darkness He had prepared. They fell in a cascade of blazing light that was swallowed up utterly by the loneliness of His absence. We obedient angels were sorted by the intensity of the holiness God saw in us. We were given names and assigned tasks to perform His will and reveal His glory.
My place is in the army of Azrael, the archangel of death. I am a psychopomp. My task is to collect the souls of humans when they die. We are forbidden to condemn or to console the spirits of the dead. Until the moment of their death, we are invisible to the humans we harvest, although occasionally great saints or sinners, or those who are especially perceptive, seem to see us approaching. “Fear not!” is the formula we use, although it is rarely successful in calming anyone, and although many souls may, indeed, have good reason to fear. I am permitted to inform them that they have died and that they will be judged by our just and merciful God. Some try to fight me; others try to bribe me; many fall into fervent prayer, which I must tell them is of no avail after death. I convey them to the place of judgment before the Throne of God. On His left is the pit filled with darkness visible. Blind faces of fallen angels rise like steam from a cauldron and fall immediately back into the pitchy stew. On His right, battalions of angel warriors rise in winged ranks wearing armor like rainbows and singing His praise. Behind the Throne a cloud of witnesses awaits each judgment. I deposit the soul at God’s feet and leave it to His mercy.
For hundreds and thousands of years I served God obediently, bringing millions of souls to Him. The woman was no different from the others. She was very poor and very sick, lying alone on a straw pallet in an unheated, unlit attic. She was also very young and very beautiful. Moonlight fell on her moist, white face. She appeared to be made of pearl. I realized that she could see me. I started to say, “Fear not!” but her sweet, shivery voice silenced me:
“Angel of God, my guardian dear,
to whom His love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard, to rule and guide.”
Angels do not feel the pale emotions of humans. We feel the intensity of God’s love directly and share His Beatific Vision, and thus we cannot experience human love any more than a human could hear the sound of one leaf falling in a thunderstorm. But as the woman recited her prayer, I felt something break open inside me.
“I am not your guardian angel. I have come to return you to the God who made you, a God of love and mercy.”
“I know you are here to bring me death. Thank you.”
She opened herself to me and I knew her entire life. She had suffered much, having lost her whole family to war and disease, having taken care of her parents and younger brothers until they died, having endured wracking pain during her own final illness, but never having abandoned her faith in God. I also knew that she had never been baptized. Her parents had not been believers and had refused to bring any of their children to the font. As a girl, she had learned her catechism from a neighbor and had embraced her faith with passionate sincerity. It had never occurred to the neighbor that the girl had not been baptized as an infant.
I felt an irresistible desire to protect her, and knew in that moment that I had sinned. I prayed that God would forgive me, but also that He would allow me to spare her. I could not see how either of these prayers could be granted.
I felt a gray fog surround me and seemed to be flying, propelled by a great wind. The fog vanished and the girl and I were at God’s feet. I could not hide myself, but I stood between God and the girl. I was sure that I would be flung into the pit for my disobedience and tried to ask God’s forgiveness for myelf and His mercy for the girl. Before I could speak, each Person of the Trinity reached out. I prepared myself to be torn apart, but saw each of the three hands extend a finger over the girl’s forehead and release one drop of water onto her. At that moment her soul left her body and joined he cloud of witnesses behind the Throne. I found my voice: “Oh, God, forgive my disobedience and save me from the pit.”
I heard God’s voice in my mind, speaking with utter authority: “The angels in the pit sinned by their pride and wrath. You are not condemned because your disobedience was from love and compassion. Love covers a multitude of sins. Go forth in faith, knowing that your God can perform His miracles in ways you cannot understand.”
Psychopomp
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