Saintly things

Fun fact: today is Michealmas, the feast day of Saint Michael, in the Western Church. The Book of Revelation reports that the archangel Michael led the forces of God in driving Satan out of heaven and into hell. I’m not a fan of Revelations, as its whack-job, possibly drug-related predictions have been the banner for a great deal of evil, extending even unto our times. But Saint Michael has always appealed to me.

He’s like the captain of the Almighty’s Praetorian Guard, commander of the legions of the righteous, defender of the faiths (both Jewish and Christian), protector of the weak and, ultimately, the transporter of departed souls.

And it’s interesting that, for a guy perhaps most famous for leading the heavenly regiments against a traitorous former comrade (Satan started out as one of the angels, remember), Michael is considered more a symbol of the inner struggle of faith, of spiritual warriors. These days, in addition to watching over soldiers, he’s the patron saint of first responders (police, firefighters, EMTs), doctors and the sick. At the end of life, Michael appears at the deathbed to give a sinner one last chance to repent before carrying the soul away with great tenderness.

Guy’s got a lot on his plate.

Michaelmas falls close enough to the autumnal equinox to have the saint’s celebration tied into harvest themes. Michaelmas is a time for ensuring all the crops have been gathered in and stored for the coming winter, for giving thanks for nature’s bounty and for turning one’s thoughts to preparing home and hearth for the long nights ahead.

It’s that whole package of Michael—the warrior angel, the Osiris of Christian souls, the dividing point between summer and winter—that makes him one of my favorite saints. Michael’s was one of the three voices the young Jeanne d’Arc heard (along with Saint Catherine’s and Saint Margaret’s), which set her on the road from Domrémy to Orléans, Reims, and finally, to Rouen.

I like to think that Michael was waiting at the stake to lift her soul away from the flames and into heaven. I have a personal connection to Jeanne, and—through her—to Michael.

Tonight I’ll spend some time reflecting on these things, giving thanks for the joys of summer, preparing for the rigors of winter, and considering what it means—for me—to pursue faith like a military campaign.