The angels came into the "Situation Room" and took their seats. God was not there yet. Unlike the three previous times when they had been called there to deal with a crisis, they were not quiet. They sat down heavily, and plunked their elbows on the table, pained looks on their faces. And unlike their previous trips to this room they were not intimidated by the huge window taking up a whole wall. This time, they didn’t even notice the stunning view of the cosmos, the amazing grandeur and beauty and vastness that came to be simply because God spoke. This time, they didn’t even notice. This time, they were in shock. This time, they were angry. For them, it had been like watching the planes hit the towers, only the towers were heaven.

It was Michael who spoke first. A warrior, an angel of action, he was, as usual, unable to remain silent. "It is just unbelievable!" he said. "We’ve been here three times before, and it gets nothing but worse. They have never gotten it right. They have some character flaw that makes them do things they know are wrong. How can you even work with creatures like that?" He turned away, too angry to speak more.

Raphael picked it up: "And God tried and tried and tried to get through to them. He sent them prophets and leaders, he adopted some of them and took them out of slavery, he gave them instruction, and for what? NOTHING! You’re right, Michael, it just keeps getting nothing but worse!"

Uriel jumped in: "They should’a been wiped out in the flood, ever’ last one of ‘em. And when they wadn’t, when that Noah and his family was spared, we said it would be trouble. We said it wadn’t gonna get no better. But now it’s done got worse. A whole lot worse."

Gabriel spoke next: "When you think about what God did for them . . . Do you remember the last time we were here? God was trying to decide what to do. And do you remember our recommendations? We were divided between destroying them and abandoning them. And what did God do? Came to them as a baby. A baby! A human baby! It was just — amazing. Became one of them to try to get through to them. Lived a life as one of them."

"And what a life," Raphael interrupted. "I was so proud of him you’d have thought I was his father."

"It was a beautiful thing," Uriel said. "The way he told all them outcasted peoples about God’s love, them widders and whores and Gentiles and such. And the way he spent his whole adult life healing people. Ever’whar’ he went, he was healing people. And always telling ‘em to remember what was important, to quit living for money and prestige and all that nonsense. He was surrounded by poor folk, healing ‘em, and teaching ‘em, and telling them about how much God loves ‘em, and, well, it was just a beautiful thing, is all."

"And the way he spoke the truth," Gabriel said. "They aren’t very good at telling the truth, and when he did it, it just pierced through their fog of lies like a bright light pierces the darkness. He told the truth to the religious leaders about how they were not focusing on God, but on themselves and all sorts of silly requirements that weren’t really about God at all."

"And," interrupted Raphael, "he was wonderful telling the truth to the political leaders, about how their power seemed so strong and permanent, but how it wasn’t the real power at all. About how the real power was love, and how it would overcome all their weapons and coercion and occupation and cruelty."

There was a long pause. This last comment had hit a nerve. Finally the impetuous Michael spoke what they were all thinking: "Well, I know what he said was the truth and all, but it doesn’t seem to have worked with them. You can’t work with creatures like these! When I think of what God did for them, and what they did to him, I can’t, I just can’t . . . ."

"It’s all right, Michael," Gabriel said. "We all feel that way. I have felt sick ever since I heard. I seem to jump between feelings of anger, even rage, and feeling empty inside, sick-like."

They all nodded in agreement.

"It can’t go on," Michael said quietly, his rage deflated into sorrow. "It just can’t."

"Don’t worry," Uriel said. "It’s gotta stop now. Cain’t nobody put up with this."

Just then, God came in. They all stood up.

"Thank you for coming," God said quietly. "Please, be seated." There was a pause as God looked at them, read their sorrow and their anger. "It was a terrible day," God said. "A day of pain and horror and cruelty and death. I’m sure that all of them think that this is the end of it."

They looked up with a mixture of surprise and apprehension that said, "This is the end of it, isn’t it?"

God saw their look, but continued: "I have a job for one of you. There are some women headed toward the tomb. Here’s what I want you to do."

And so he told them. And they were amazed.

They were utterly amazed.

When we say, "Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia," can we be amazed? Can we be utterly amazed?

Alleluia, Christ is risen.

The Very Rev. James H. Pritchett, Jr. St. John’s Episcopal Church, College Park, GA