“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!’” (Luke 2:13–14)
On these dark December nights, do you hear the choir of angels singing, as shepherds of Bethlehem once did? Even if you don’t hear angels, are they still singing?
Let me tell a story about Betty and Bill, a couple in their 60s. When Bill died after a long illness, Betty was bereft. On her way to church to offer a Mass for Bill, mid-step in the middle of the street, Betty was overcome by something so astonishing she was nearly paralyzed.
It was music, she told me, but not the kind that comes from a passing car or a nearby pub. It wasn’t a symphony, and it wasn’t a song. What it was can only be described as beautiful, Betty said. She was overwhelmed by its loveliness and surrendered to it utterly, there in the middle of the street. And when it passed away, and she could continue on to the church, she felt intuitively that it was the choir of angels she had suddenly tuned into.
The music had been strange and wonderful, ethereal and completely enveloping, like nothing else Betty had experienced. And, as she pondered it in the pews, she also realized it had seemed familiar somehow. She’d heard it before, as a child. But where? Underwater? And when might that have been?
Later, she called her twin sister, Barbara, and asked if perhaps she had ever nearly drowned when they were little. Oh yes, Barbara affirmed. She remembered Betty had almost been lost to the family that terrible day.
A dozen years later, Betty’s twin died. Although they lived in different cities, Betty knew Barbara was gone before she got the news—because of the music. That overpowering sense of beauty and fullness was all around her and within her. And when it passed over her and moved away, Betty knew that her sister was gone, too. As grief-stricken as she was, Betty felt consolation and joy within that celestial sound. It was as if a door to another realm had opened and closed.
My friend Betty is now in her 80s and is herself in hospice care, tethered to oxygen for her every breath. Although we’ve been friends for 25 years, Betty never mentioned to me the choir of angels she thought she’d heard on three separate occasions. But recently, during a long afternoon, as we sat together on her sofa, our arms around each other for what may be the last time in this life, she tentatively broached the subject.
After her twin died, Betty had gone to her parish priest and told him about the music and how she felt sure that gorgeous sound could only come from a choir of angels. He told her very kindly that she might benefit from grief counseling. That’s when she decided never to tell anyone else about her experiences.
“What do you think?” she asked, searching my face for a reaction. I told her I believed she’d been favored with angel song on especially difficult occasions when death was near. Betty’s a holy woman, as poor, generous, and open a soul as any I’ve known. If anyone is going to hear angels, the smart money is on someone like Betty.
Angels can show up for anyone
And she’s not the only one. Angels are mentioned nearly 300 times in the Bible. They appear to women as various as Ishmael’s uncherished mother, Hagar; Samson’s unnamed future mom; young Mary of Nazareth; and the women at Jesus’ tomb in all four gospels. Powerful men, such as patriarchs Abraham and Jacob, teacher Moses, King David, and temple priest Zechariah, are favored with angelic visitations. So are prophets (Balaam, Elijah, and another Zechariah).
Even a bumbling fool like Lot is warned by visiting angels to take his family out of Sodom. Naive young Tobit is similarly directed down the road by a guardian angel named Raphael. St. Joseph also finds angelic directives helpful in making decisions about his family. And in this season, we’re well aware of “certain poor shepherds” who receive a multitude of the heavenly host while tending their flocks.
It’s clear you don’t have to be somebody special or especially virtuous to enjoy the attention of angels. In fact, enemy armies encounter destroying angels to their doom on more than one biblical occasion. In the Book of Revelation, where angels are mentioned the most (74 times), destroying angels play a major role. You couldn’t have apocalypse without them.
Heavenly liberators
Angels do destroy most effectively. But they also protect. An angel is posted to protect the Tree of Life after Adam and Eve are banished from Eden. In the Book of Daniel, three pious young men plunged into a fiery furnace do not ignite, thanks to a companion angel. In Acts, angels liberate apostles from jail on more than one occasion. The seven churches of Revelation each have their own angels watching over them. However, depending on the spiritual condition of those communities, having a watchful angel may be a double-edged sword.
St. Paul and the other epistle writers speak of angels over 30 times. Psalmists sing of the many activities of angels: encamping around the just, participating in the praise of the worshipping assembly, bringing divine food to those in need. Jesus, needless to say, is both announced by an angel before his birth and ministered to by angels in the desert at the start of his ministry. In all four gospels, Jesus teaches about the reality and activity of angels. In Luke’s account, Jesus is also consoled in his last hours by an angel in Gethsemane.
The power, protection, guidance, and fearsomeness of angels are scripturally well attested.
Why do angels show up in choirs?
But where do we get the idea that angels are always singing? The Book of Revelation attributes this continuous activity to angels—and the rest of heaven’s residents as well. Praising and glorifying God is an everlasting occupation, it would seem. Heaven is such a musically rich and penetrated realm that when there is a rare reverential “silence in heaven for about half an hour” (after the opening of the seventh seal—see Rev. 8:1), that quiet must have been deafening!
Technically, this singular half hour of silence is yet to be, if we view Revelation as the story of original creation’s end and the dawning of a new creation over history’s horizon. Until then, it’s safe to assume that angel song is an ongoing phenomenon.
Music provides rhythm and harmony to an often erratic and off-key world. Ancient teachers held that angel song provided an organizing aspect to the heavens so planets and stars could keep to their courses without colliding. Perhaps, if we could all hear such music all the time, we might pull ourselves and our societies into alignment with God’s purposes. Perhaps we wouldn’t collide into one another so often.
In the meantime, I’ve asked my friend Betty, whose time on this side of history’s horizon is short, to leave the door of eternity open for me—for just a moment—on her way through. I’ve asked her to share with me that beautiful music so I know she’s home safe. It’s a song I hope we all hear together when it’s our turn.
This article also appears in the December 2024 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 89, No. 12, pages 47-49). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Image: Wikimedia Commons/Margetson, Angel Appears to the Shepherds
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