Angels for Christmas and afterwards

Holy, Lord God of Hosts (Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth) we say in the Mass, almost absent mindedly as we grope for somewhere to kneel for the Consecration.  And so one of the great ancient chants of the Mass slips by almost unnoticed.  But who were the Hosts?  The prayer comes from Isaiah 6 and the complete run of verses gives us a marvelous image – it sees the enthroned Lord, and “above him stood the seraphim; each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet and with two he flew.  And one called to the other and said, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts; The whole earth is full of His glory.””

Image: Seraph Angel, 13th century CE, ceiling mosaics, Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, Turkey

The word Sabaoth is usually translated as ‘heavenly’ hosts but has an association with the Hebrew armies assuring them God was with them.  The usual interpretation is that the host tends towards military, made of angels who were pretty intimidating.  In the Hebrew testament the angel of the Lord was the messenger/voice of God and was a formidable entity.  It is this ‘angel of the Lord’ that spoke to Abraham and led Moses – a figure of Biblical awe.

And then, according to St Luke’s Gospel, Mary is visited by an angel – Gabriel, of course – to ask her to consent to imminent motherhood, and the image of the angel is no longer one of fire or sword.  But it’s a desperately tough choice to accept such a burden; at that time what woman would opt for the opprobrium of single motherhood?  Paintings of the Annunciation are legion; they vary between the serene Mary and the unworthy prayerful figure, but all of them seem to accept Gabriel’s view: that his news was welcome.  It may be a huge honour to participate in God’s plan for salvation – but most of us would prefer to be an onlooker than actor in such a grief-laden narrative as Mary’s.  More poets than painters seem to realise that Gabriel’s message was double-edged.  Then in Luke’s account, the angelic messenger of God sets off the rest of the nativity story; “an angel of the Lord appeared… and the glory of the Lord shone around” a group of men, the least powerful and probably the least literate of the land.  Shepherds were ritually unclean and so could neither attend a sacrifice in the Temple, nor give evidence in a Jewish court.  But their news is swamped by a heavenly host, joyful rather than threatening, “glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace”. 

Image: Christ Glorified in the Court of Heaven by Fra Angelico (1395-1455), National Gallery

Generations of Carol singers are certain that it was a choir of angels singing across the heavens, but alas, that is due to wishful thinking on the part of poets and choristers; the angels in Luke’s Gospel only speak.  The term ‘choirs of angels’ refers to category rather than chant.  The whole idea of angels grow in complexity in the Christian tradition and reflects a fascination that we may find difficult to understand.  The idea of Nine Choirs of Angels is as old as C6 Bishop Theodore of Seville: Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Powers, Virtues, Archangels, and Angels, in descending order of authority and were divided into three groups.  Seraphs traditionally wear red, and Cherubim blue – as Botticini’s extraordinary Assumption shows.  The two lowest ranks, closest to human beings are Archangels (Gabriel, Michael and Raphael among others) and Angels, in colours less theological than art driven.

Image: The Assumption of the Virgin by Francesco Botticini (1475-76) at the National Gallery London

Image: Tobias and the Angel by Andrea del Verocchio

Through time these angels grow less formidable and more personable.  In the Book of Tobit, the young son plus small dog are sent on a journey to collect a debt by the father Tobias and are secretly guided by Archangel Raphael.  (The latter’s was a popular devotion in late C15 Florence, where many banking and trading families sent their sons travelling to neighboring cities to represent them in business.  All parents and grandparents can sympathise with their anxiety, but few could afford to employ the painter Verrocchio to encourage such piety.)  And while Archangels may protect biblical figures, ordinary angels are for the rest of the world.  And so, finally we come to the concept of ‘the Guardian angel’ which gradually grew from a passing verse in Matthew 18:10, and became popularised in a society which believed in the threat of demons; then increasingly was associated with children’s piety. 

A last angelic image for this Christmas season is Caravaggio’s Rest on the Flight into Egypt.  It is an apparently frivolous but in fact profoundly moving piece; a swirling, gleaming, dark-winged, musical angel bisects the painting, emphasising the difference between the figures and their roles.  On one side are the perfectly still figures of a sleeping Mary and the babe almost enclosed in their own green landscape, and on the other is the focused, still figure of a wakeful Joseph, feet on stony ground – serving – holding the book of music the angel plays on his viola to soothe the sleeping pair.  Compared to Mary, Joseph is shadowed, while mother and babe are warmly lit, in part, but the edges around her are very dark.  The music has been identified as a setting of the Song of Songs – some of the most beautiful and sensuous writing in the Bible.

Image: Rest on the flight into Egypt by Caravaggio

As an addendum, Happy Christmas from Raphael’s decorative cherubs – a long way from the scarlet clad Cherubim, Messengers of the Hebrew Testament.

Image: Raphael’s Angels, The Sistine Madonna, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden

By Sandy Curnow

Published: 6 December 2024