No response is necessary

Noah had gotten an assignment to speak with a chaplain at the Air Force Academy. “Find out what’s going on with those guys,” his editor had told him. “They’re awful quiet over there.”

The summary note of military silence, a subdued armory as it were, marked an impressive end to warring factions and the subsequent population unrest. With a lift of his hand, it appeared, Jesus had eliminated the rancors of rage from any success. No response from the military came, because none was necessary.

The armies are quiet

(Fifth in a series on the return of Jesus Christ)


http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/041217.cfm
Isaiah 50:4-9
Matthew 26:14-25


Noah wondered what the armies of the nations disagreeable to Jesus’ presence would do; how they would react to the sweep of peace that quickly had taken root in the cities and villages around the world. He had watched a seething anger develop among a whispering few whom he knew, and he imagined that fully armed units of soldiers with the same bristling distrust of Jesus’ “takeover” would do more than whisper. 

The resisters, though, were hard to account for, because a growing allegiance, from everywhere, in all gatherings of creation, walked and talked and moved ever more fearlessly with the Spirit. Those who opposed Jesus Christ were quieted by the boisterous, outpouring of excitement from so many more supporters of Jesus and the saints. Instead of building up a vocal and media-supported resistance, anyone who opposed Jesus remained hidden. Two months into Jesus’ return, any reverse overthrow of the world by Christ and his team of Saints already appeared unlikely.

Noah had gotten an assignment to speak with a chaplain at the Air Force Academy. “Find out what’s going on with those guys,” his editor had told him. “They’re awful quiet over there.”

The summary note of military silence, a subdued armory as it were, marked an impressive end to warring factions and the subsequent population unrest. With a lift of his hand, it appeared, Jesus had eliminated the rancors of rage from any success. No response from the military came, because none was necessary.

The random rampages of the Sudan lands and populations had halted. Syria’s people began heading back home. The rain of bombs there had stopped. Along the borders, from Texas to California, the patrols now assisted families streaming back into Mexico rather than searching for illegal activity. Cars and buses paraded in returning pilgrimages. Like everywhere else, even the churches in Romania, Ghana, Ecuador, and the Ukraine filled up on a daily basis, shifting protesting crowds into chanting and praying throngs.

The burden of protection, security, and show of force had unilaterally been lifted. The military of all nations had gone quiet. 

“It’s the angels,” a chaplain at the Air Force Academy told Noah. “The hierarchy of order,” he said, pausing for a long time between each word, “… it’s as if steady hands rest on each airman’s, soldier’s and sailor’s shoulder, if I can be a bit poetic.” 

Captain James Alcorn waited for Noah to look up from his reporter’s notebook.

Finally, Noah asked the question. “You said angels?” 

Captain Alcorn nodded. 

“OK. We should talk about that,” Noah said, a guarded skepticism in his voice. “But first, the hierarchy of order? You didn’t really finish your point about that.”

“Uh, it’s still there, is what I meant to say. Rank and file, duty and service, and all those functions in military roles … well … nothing has changed, really.” The captain stood as he talked to Noah, dressed in uniform, the Christian cross and chaplaincy badge on his arm. “We were the first to see the angels, though. The military personnel, that is. They are everywhere.”

“Interesting. I haven’t seen them, yet. Do they do anything?”

“It’s a bit unnerving to talk about,” he said, sitting down. “At first, they were talking to us, and putting their hands on our backs.”

“Talking and ouching you?” The chaplain nodded again. “How many of them are there?”

“I’d call it a caress, really,” Captain Alcorn said. “Their words are tender, and soft, directly to us individually. Hard to say how many of them. It’s possible that there’s one for every man and woman.”

“Does everyone fall in line with the angels? Sounds kind of zombie-like, if you pardon the interpretation.”

“Oh, no, I understand.” Captain Alcorn sat down and folded his hands together, placing them on the table the AFA visitor’s center. “It’s not like that, but … I don’t know how to put it. Again, at first they calmly stood at our sides. Then, they moved in front of us. I think that’s the best way to explain it.”

“I’ll just ask it outright, then,” Noah said. “Have the angels taken over?”

“That’s kind of what’s happened. Yes,” the chaplain said. “But in a protective stance. I mean, they step into difficulties, literally removing the tensions that we, our military people, face.”

“Sheesh,” Noah said. “Everybody is just letting them?”

“No. Some have not been too happy about it, but they can’t really do anything. We’ve had several cadets leave, but not as many as you’ve had in the civilian ranks, I’m sure. We’ve lost some officers, too. I understand the same thing is happening with the active military personnel everywhere. The angels have placed themselves in the face of fire, walking in front of us, as it were.” 

“Uh, some cadets and officers have left?” Noah asked. “What does that mean? Where do they go?”

The chaplain looked surprised at Noah. “You really don’t know about this?”

“No,” Noah said. “What are you talking about?”

Over the next hour, Noah sat in the chaplain’s car as the military minister drove them out of the Academy and up the Ute Pass, through a back road into the Rampart Range. He explained to Noah the blunt reality that the military had been faced with in just a few short weeks. Weapons no longer held sway, because weaponry was being nullified by the angels. Aggressors no longer could use weapons, because the angels simply stopped everyone attempting to fire or throw or deliver them.

“It’s happened with the police, too.”

The road eventually took them through the burned out lands north of the reservoir, to a ridge. Noah looked into a valley below, that Chaplain Alcorn pointed out. 

“That’s Betrayal Canyon,” he said. 

“No, it’s not,” Noah said. “That’s where I used to hike, before the fires up here. It’s never been called that.”

“It is now.”

Noah looked closer, and saw them. People, hundreds of them, gathered in spots throughout the valley. He saw the cars, the campers, and the tents. Many stood around small fires. He didn’t notice at first. There shouldn’t be fires up here, he knew. It had been years since the area had been burned to the ground, but so much of the fallen and standing trees were still waiting kindling. The air, though, smelled of burnt rubber, plastic, and charcoal, overwhelming a forest fire of charred wood and blackened earth.

“What is this?”

“It’s where the angels have been following the people who object,” the chaplain explained. “People who are angry, upset at what’s going on. They push themselves away from us, and we’ve watched them come up here. See, over there, that fellow is actually running into the area. The angels won’t go in there, and that’s where people are going to get away from them.”

Noah was stunned. 

“How come we haven’t heard about this?”

“Well, we all know about it at the Academy. There are places like this all over the world.” He stopped talking, and Noah watched the chaotic movements of people and vehicles below him. 

“It’s not very organized.”

“No,” said the chaplain. “If you haven’t heard about this, where are the people going that you know? The civilians who object to Jesus.”

Noah didn’t have an answer, because he thought people who were upset with the power shift to Jesus and the saints, and now the angels he realized, were still hanging around, eventually coming to grips with who Jesus is. Like himself.

In fact, Noah did know several folks who weren’t on board. They muttered a lot, but he didn’t think they had really gone anywhere.

“I don’t see the angels,” Noah said.

“Really?” The chaplain was visibly surprised. “You don’t see them standing around us?”

Noah shook his head. He saw no one other than the chaplain. The chaplain turned to his left. He shrugged in that direction.

“Well, I guess that makes sense, somehow,” he said. “The service folks are necessarily the first who need to experience a separation between those who allow the authority of Jesus and the Holy Spirit, and those who refuse.”

Noah stood uncomfortable with the idea of angels. He’d already met saints, and had an emotional connection with both Jesus and the Holy Spirit. “I guess this is one more inevitable reality,” he said. “One that I’d never have imagined.”

“The comfort from them is what’s unmistakable,” the chaplain said. “if you could see them, you would notice that they are circling this entire area.”

“What are they doing?”

The chaplain folded his arms, and then wiped his eyes. He had tears on his cheeks. “I think,” he said, talking in halting words. “They are sad for these people. I don’t think angels cry, but their body language is haunting, almost broken-hearted. They’re mourning them.”

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