By Father Myron J. Pereira, Jesuit
Of all the angels whose names we keep, none exerts a greater fascination than the archangel Michael. Is this the reason why Michael is one of the most popular names for both boys and girls?
Typically, Michael is a warrior in full armor, thrusting his spear into a powerful but defeated dragon who cowers at his feet. Or he wields a sword, uplifted to strike Lucifer and cast him into hell.
Millions of artistic depictions have stamped this image of Michael upon our collective memory — and not just Michael, but of his “look-alikes” as well: St George and the dragon; white Crusaders bearing down upon infidel Saracens; and in our Indian tradition, victorious Kali crushing the buffalo-demon, and devouring him.
Our deepest fears
Iconography has an intuitive way of evoking our deepest fears and longings. What do these pictures of violent struggle speak of? Do they depict the tensions between good and evil, so much part of our daily experience? Or the urges to power, violence, and self-assertive righteousness? Or the demands of appeasement, of bloody sacrifice?
We don’t quite know.
Michael. Satan. Crucifixion. Ram-Ravana. Mahakali. These are powerful symbols from our collective unconscious. Which means to say that they exist so close to us, that we can’t even get them into objective focus.
If anyone doubts this, let him reflect just a moment on the war and violence that has erupted across the world these last two years — Manipur, Gaza, and Ukraine — and held us all in thrall.
In the name of God and country, armies have moved to kill and destroy, giving vent to all those outpourings of blood and passion, which altogether escape the cool light of reason.
I call this the rise of the demonic.
Where are the demons?
The demons are always within. It is wise and healthy to recognize this, as the ancients did, and not pretend otherwise.
Even the Gospels, which transcend in form and vision so much of the ancient world, acknowledge the presence of the beast — dragons, serpents, betrayers, apostates, persecutors, devils, and unclean spirits — all forms of the “strong man” who holds this world in thrall.
And today the demons are still within. The anger and hurt we carry with us over generations — caste hatreds, religious prejudices, fears of losing power, sexist fears, racist fears.
The unclean spirits return sevenfold in the refurbished apartment which is clean but empty. In other words, unoccupied by good spirits .
Demonic and angelic?
The demonic and the angelic are those vital forces, for good as well as evil, which undergird reason, and often bypass it altogether.
Where there are demons, there are angels too, so perhaps I should also use the term “angelic” for a more accurate description of those benevolent spirits that fill our souls, and lead us on the paths of righteousness and wisdom.
As ABBA sang, “I believe in angels/something good in everything I see.”
Angels lead us to kindness and mercy, and compassion for those in need. They signify self-sacrifice and surrender beyond the call of duty. They inspire a deeper wisdom and perception, which comes from a higher power. They open us to life and experience in all its forms.
But angels and devils inhabit the same space, and as the poet Rilke once put it, “If you drive away my demons, I fear my angels will also take flight.”
The world of the spirits
To open the windows of the soul to the world of the spirits is to experience the tussle of conflicting spirits, as Ignatius Loyola well knew. His rules “to discern the spirits” are a classic guide in this field.
But what if one decides that it is safer to bolt the doors and fasten the windows, so that one feels safe and closed within? The room may become unbearably hot and stifling, but it is safe… for a time.
Ah, but what if the doors and windows cannot stand the pressure of the gales which blow without?
The powers of religion traffic with the world of the spirit. Their symbols reach up to the heavens and plumb the fearful depths. Unlike law or politics which control only external behavior, religion addresses the demons within us.
And what are these?
One example: in our building of the saeculum, for instance. We have no potent symbols of the secular to stir our bowels or palpitate our hearts, as religion has. Our talk of the secular is just that: abstract words.
We have not waded through the wars of religion, as Europe did. We have not been persecuted enough for the values of mercy and human rights. We have not struggled to become secular; we merely adopted the phrases.
It is only through a public confrontation with the demons of our primitive past in which religion played its part, a struggle in which Satan and his minions are hurled into the pits of hell, that we will be able to join hands and build the saeculum.
Michael and the dragon tell us that the field of righteousness is a constant battlefield.
Maybe like Jacob wrestling with his angel, we will prevail, but limp forever. Or maybe our demons will scurry into the dark corners of the city sewers, like the rats in Camus’ The Plague, and bide their time before they strike again. – UCA News
*The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.
