According to the folklore of Celtic Christianity, blackberries should not be picked after the Feast of Michaelmas. This because, as the stories go, Satan was banished from heaven on this day, fell into a blackberry bramble and either cursed it, spat on it, or—in my favorite version—urinated on it.
I find these apocryphal tales to be oddly reassuring, because late season blackberries really are a disappointment. If I were to visit my favorite brambles right now I might find a few attractively burnished berries, but I know from experience that they won’t be nearly as sweet as their earlier counterparts. I just hadn’t realized that satanic urine was the reason.
To everything there is a season, as the writer of Ecclesiastes has reminded us. And our generally well-ordered church responds faithfully, with our liturgical colors that correspond to seasons and our careful attention to hierarchy and roles. Order, discipline and boundaries function to keep us safe, especially in times of conflict. Today’s reading from Revelation describes the great cosmic battle between evil and good, wherein we encounter the archangel Michael as the leader of the forces of goodness. According to the tradition, it is also Michael who stands guard at the gates of Eden. So you might say that one function of angels is to defend boundaries.
Boundaries and limits are life-giving… except when they are not. For further discussion of that conundrum, I commend to you our savior Jesus Christ, who was well known for blurring the boundaries of Jew and Gentile, male and female, God and human, and even life and death. But in Biblical context, Jesus was hardly the only character to cross boundaries. In fact, those same angels who stand guard at their orderly places in the hierarchy are also known as messengers, which is the literal meaning of the Greek word angelos. They ascend and descend between realms, as both the Hebrew Scriptures and the Gospels imagine them.
In her book “Angels Unawares,” writer Megan McKenna states “Angels instill in those who see them or hear them a violent need to obey the truth. Since they stand always in awe before God and worship God, no matter what wise they have been charged with doing, the presence of the holy exudes from them. Sometimes angels have been described as ways by which human beings apprehend the presence, the knowledge and the will of God… ”
So in Christian angelology—and yes, there really is such a discipline of study—are angels defenders of the cosmic hierarchy, or are they heavenly transgressors who cross boundaries to carry the messages of heaven to earth and back again? In either case, if our human response is awe, then the answer is surely yes. Angels are the ones who are mighty to both defend order and transcend order. They are often depicted anthropomorphically, perhaps because we perceive their messages so personally. But far be it from me to tell an angel what form she or he might appear in.
Sometimes insight is the messenger, especially when I am reminded that things can be more and different than what’s observable in the moment. When the order of things seems unjust or constraining, being reminded that God breaks through injustice and liberates might be the angel. And when the disorder of things seem chaotic or frightening, as it does in so much of the world right now— but I can imagine God’s order is one of peace and sufficiency for all– is that not an angelic vision?
For all I know, angels might be as close as our own senses. I’m only human; I don’t stand in awe of God all the time like angels do. But in my freezer there are a bunch of blackberries, picked and frozen at the height of their season. And if I were to let one melt in my mouth, the message of this Michaelmas would be clear. The bounded season of summer was once this sweet, and it will be again.
