The War in Heaven and Within Ourselves

A Reflection for the Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael

Bless the LORD, all you angels, you ministers, who do his will. (Ps 103:21)

Our cultural idea of angels is one of sweet, gentle winged spirits, floating on clouds, occasionally shooting down to earth to whisper suggestions in our ears, warning us of dangers, or steering us away from poor choices. But the reality is, our understanding of angels is rather limited.

Biblically, their resemblance is closer to that of fierce warrior—soldiers defending the kingdom. We know the names of just three such angels: Michael, the guardian and protector of the Church; Gabriel, the messenger; and Raphael, healer and companion to travelers. These are some tough attendants with indispensable work to do. Further, St. Aloysius Gonzaga has this to say about the angels:

Their intelligence is such that they are free from all errors and ignorance with respect to knowledge of created things. In addition to this perfectly illuminated light of intelligence, the angels possess a will which is completely and utterly constant, such that it may not be overcome.

Here’s the thing. Given all the incredible grace that the angels possess, John’s passage from the Book of Revelation tells us something that is almost hard to believe:

War broke out in heaven… (Rev 12:7)

Of course, we understand the factors at play when this heavenly war started: Satan succumbed to his pride. What we don’t understand is how. How is it possible that an angel—any angel—who St. Aloysius tells us possesses “a will which is completely and utterly constant, such that it may not be overcome,” could do such an about-face and reject God entirely? That an angel, who is already in heaven, face-to-face with the Creator, immersed in a love beyond measure, could choose to reject him? It would seem…well, impossible.

The first thing we must realize is that John’s description of events is the result of a vision. That’s not to say that the things he describes are in his imagination, nor are they the product of a dream. He really and truly saw the things he saw. But the difference between a “vision,” and the sight of the physical world around us, is that a vision is seen with the eyes of the spirit, whereas the physical world is looked upon with our bodily eyes.

Now there’s a second thing we must realize about John’s vision—or any vision for that matter. Visions are not meant to be word-for-word historical accounts of what has taken or will take place. They are indeed true in terms of the lessons they teach, but much like Scripture, this doesn’t mean that absolutely every word is meant to be taken literally. So, the specifics of what took place during this war in heaven between the angels is of lesser importance for us to understand than the fact that it did indeed take place.

What Scripture is calling us to pay attention to is the fact that certain angels, who St. Aloysius tells us “possess a will which is completely and utterly constant, such that it may not be overcome,” still managed to reject truth in favor of a lie. What does the Lord want us to understand? He wants us to understand this: if it could happen to an angel, who possesses supreme intelligence and who is “free from all errors and ignorance with respect to knowledge of created things,” then it can happen to us.

Friends, rejecting God is a whole lot easier than we might imagine and doesn’t always come in the form of a man with horns dressed in red. Sometimes it comes in the form of one of us—every time we drum up confusion, doubt, division, suspicion, false accusation, or any other kind of discord with one another.

Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me. (Mt 25:40)

Well, that’s terrifying! What’s a soul as weak as ours supposed to do, especially when there is so much legitimate wrongdoing in the world? Say nothing and simply allow evil to spread unfettered? Of course not. But before we go around accusing our brother, we must first have eyes to see.

We cannot judge properly from our perspective here on earth, which is why we must always strive to view all things in the context of eternity. How do we do that? By looking first within ourselves—entering the silence of our own hearts, to find the voice of God speaking to us, in His temple, where He resides. But let’s make no mistake: it won’t be easy to go there because, when we do, Jesus doesn’t condemn the other, the one we accuse; He purifies us. And friends, purification feels awful. It is in this process of purification that we begin to see ourselves, as if for the first time, as we really are: sinful and full of pride.

It is so easy to excuse or brush over our own imperfections and magnify the imperfections of the ones who trigger our wounds, but when we enter God’s temple, Jesus says to us, “My dear one, please turn your head and look over here.” At first, we resist—who wants to look at one’s inner ugly? But Jesus speaks to us so softly and gently that it gives us just enough courage. And when we look—the shock cuts through our hearts like a knife. Then Jesus says to us, “Now look at Me.” Perhaps we are too ashamed to even raise our faces. Jesus cups our cheeks with His hands and lifts our chins for us. We look into His eyes. The Face we see looking upon us is smiling, radiant with love. Suddenly we realize that we are pleasing to God!

Jesus says to us, “Child, your sins are forgiven. Behold, I make all things new.” Now our hearts are bursting with such love and joy that the only thing we want for the neighbors who have hurt us is not to accuse them but to show them that same mercy too! It is from this perspective that Jesus wants us to “fight” the wrongs of this world. He wants us to overcome evil with good. It is love that will cover a multitude of sin.

This leaves us with one question. Couldn’t God have accomplished all this without that war in heaven? Perhaps the answer to that question comes to us from the very angel whose feast we celebrate today: St. Michael, whose name means “Who is like God?”

God would not have allowed the war if He didn’t intend to draw good out of it. And not just good…but a greater good. That greater good also has a name: “Emmanuel, which means God is with us” (Mt 1:18). It is precisely through the sin that entered our world that our world would come to understand the depths of God’s mercy and love.


Raphael. (1518). Saint Michael Vanquishing Satan [painting]. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons.

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M.C. Holbrook is a homeschooling mother of ten and author of the series, The Safe Haven: Scriptural Reflections for the Heart and Home. Originally from New York City, Holbrook received a Bachelor’s degree in Human Development and Family Studies from Cornell University, and a Master’s degree in School Counseling from New York University. Holbrook enjoys meals with her family, prayer with her friends, and a hot cup of coffee each morning with the Word of God.

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