© 2012 Jean-Claude Romeuf
© 2012 French-speaking Association of Readers of the Urantia Book
¶ My angel is called Jezebel
Many debates have taken place in the past about the sex of angels. Doubt still exists today. It is to shed light on this very important subject that I have finally decided to reveal a personal secret so that the whole world no longer remains in obscurantism and ignorance.
I can tell you, having checked it and the end of this story will be the certain proof, that angels have no sex! We can say however, that their appearance is close to that of a woman; it is logical because angels are originally from a Daughter of the Spirit: the Mother of the local universe. Usually angels, like men and women, live in couples. This does not imply that angels are homosexual; they are simply receptive to a bipolarity difficult for us to understand, but by schematizing, as an explanation we can put forward the idea that angels with negative polarity, neither male nor female, are attractive to a positive angelic complement that does not have a sex either. A great friendship can be born between these different but associable people. This is how couples of angels are formed and climb the ladder of the superuniverse, ultimately reaching the Universal Father. Yet there is no absolute rule! As with men and women, there are frictions and divorces in their relationships! Like ours, their history does not unfold easily and their destiny is subject to a school of learning that leaves no room for monotony and indolence. Angels and men are intelligent saprophytic species: they help each other in the slow ascent towards God! We are not generally aware of the usefulness that we bring to them; but the proof is that the majority of tutelary spirits choose the career of guardian angel in the hope of crossing at the same time as their earthly pupil, the different stages of spiritual and mental progression that mark the path of space and time.
Of course, I am not a specialist in angelic matters and it is not my habit to want to make a generality of a particular case. But I have a certain experience in this area and I consider it a duty for me to make it known to others, because I have sometimes found myself in a privileged and exceptional situation in the presence of guardian angels. I know that my credibility is not equal to my imagination, but the story that follows is completely true. I am ready to swear it in front of any relic of a Saint displayed in one of our churches!
It was during the horror of a deep night, my angel Jezebel showed herself before me. She even took care to paint and adorn her face to repair my difficulty in feeling and seeing her presence.
“I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry!” With a little medical education, it was easy for me to recognize in this way of presenting myself, a certain bulimic need that morally I disapprove of, but that it seemed difficult not to satisfy at that time, because it was proof of a real suffering that I had to relieve at all costs! I, who was burning my feet, warmly installed in front of the fireplace in my living room, while reflecting on one of the most difficult concepts in the Urantia Book, had to jump up. Just the day before, by chance, I had caught a magnificent royal sea bream. It would be a great pleasure for me to grill it to welcome my guardian angel to my table!
“How horrible!” she said. “A sea bream! You want to make me eat a sea bream!” Her eyes went around the room, then I saw her throw herself on a guitar that was lying around and that had probably been stolen that very morning from a friend! I thought at first that she was going to devour it greedily, but that was to misunderstand angels! She took it in her arms as one takes a child, caressed it and then very gently slid fingers of unsuspected agility over its strings. She tried a few chords, the sound seemed acceptable to her; then she began to accompany with her celestial voice the notes that escaped from her hands. The musical enchantment began with what could have been taken for a Spanish dance by Manuel de Falla, but soon, with a wave of a magic wand, the guitar transformed into a sort of violin, twisting the harmony like that of the young Sergei Prokofiev (but I don’t know if Prokofiev played the violin. If yes, so much the better! If no, let him copy the following sentence a hundred times: “I don’t know how to play the violin”). Then she accelerated the rhythm of her fingers and thousands of notes were superimposed so well that the music became inaudible to me as it grew in purity and finally transformed into a white light suspended in the air of the room, like an undulating and limpid spring bursting from a rock. Soon the violin was hollowed out with an enormous opening from which thousands of multi-colored note-birds escaped like bats emerging from a cavern at nightfall and rushed into the mouth of the angel who swallowed them with greed and satisfaction. I was terrified! The angel improvised another strange piece of music, seemingly devoid of sound, but full of whiteness. Soon a metallic roar lifted the floor, burst my eardrums and a helicopter driven by Stockhausen crossed the room to escape through the ceiling carrying the remains of the meal that my host had not eaten. A few lyrebirds who had wanted to take part in the concert out of pride were swallowed up by the wind and only managed to escape the propeller by a miracle.
“Phew,” cried Jezebel, “my hunger is appeased! Music is truly healthy food for the soul! I am full! What joy to let oneself be lulled by the sound vibrations sent from Paradise! Capturing just one of these distant echoes is to get a little closer to the absolute! I am thirsty!”
“Are you thirsty? I can give you a flute”. Of course, I didn’t want to make the previous mistake and through a clever equivocation, I suggested to my guardian angel the name of an object that could be a musical instrument or a glass of champagne. But she didn’t let herself be fooled and with a very feminine mischievousness, she reversed the situation by turning it to her advantage, the bubbles being neither good for her figure nor for her speed! “Because you know, the villain told me, when I move, my speed exceeds that of light! I looked at a corner of your cellar and I saw where you hide a delicious white wine, reserved for special occasions. Let’s drink some together please”.
And so, with a glass in hand, we had a little chat. With the wine, the beauty became a little more familiar. Slightly tipsy, she gave herself over to a little sadness. It was a tear in the depths of her eyes that gave me a glimpse of the heavens and made me understand that angels are very close to humans because they share common feelings with them. “My God, what it is all the same with us”, she sighed as she sat on my knees, and then having placed her glass on her lip, she remained silent for a moment. Later, in a moment of warm confidence, she confessed to me that her complement no longer desired her and that their relationship was a little strained. “He is afraid, she told me, of not reaching an intimate biunification with me”. That is why, because of the worries she had, she confessed to me, she had neglected me a little recently. According to what I heard, instead of rendering me the service that I had the right to expect from her for my salvation, she had not caused me a difficult enough life because, she said: “suffering and trials are undoubtedly linked to spiritual growth, without which the human soul vegetates instead of growing. If they want to become perfect, men must undergo tribulations. I recognize that I have not lived up to my duty, she apologized, but to treat my slight mental depression, the doctor ordered me to take a little rest and prescribed me a few quarters of sick leave. ”
Not being a masochist, she was completely excused and I advised her to try to find out if she was entitled to permanent disability.
She must have found the position on my lap quite comfortable, because we continued to chat about everything and nothing for a while longer. I didn’t mind, on the contrary! I knew that one day, in my last hour, she would come and get me and transport me up there to a country that I don’t know but where I’m not eager to go. I hastened to thank her for this in advance and also asked her permission to take my boat and my billiard table because I was very attached to both. “Can I take a few more gold coins to bribe the doorman, because I’m not sure they’ll let me in for free?” But the beauty couldn’t hear me anymore, she had just fallen asleep in my arms.
So, I could not resist the curiosity that had gripped me since the moment she sat down: “Don’t throw stones at me, you would have done the same!”, I brushed aside a few feathers, and, without thinking in the least that she could have authorized me to do a little mountaineering, I saw that there was no valley under the Mount of Venus.
Jean Claude Romeuf
