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CHAPTER 3

FINDING CHARACTER

Elusive, Intrusive, Abusive

Character ? This was a challenge. Having survived the first challenge, Little A was beginning to feel his wings growing longer, but he could not in all honesty help noticing that they were more slender and although aesthetically possessing through this feature, a certain appeal, perhaps their robustness ...

Robustness ? Yes, he felt this to be relevant to character. You had to be strong, yet not rough, able to resist, yet not unthinking, far less unfeeling. You had to be good. Good ? that was always a conundrum. Good in the sense of following the instructions of angel school ? in the sense of finding out things ? in the sense of responding aptly under test ? what was apt ? to pass the test ? but some would pass by guile and insincerity ? Yet would this lie become apparent as Let Down had said, in the looks they got, and their inward inability to resist what those looks conveyed, since it would be true ?

These were questions of timing. How long could liars deceive ? Not so long, since you could see if you looked under their arms, and senior angels could look right through any attempt to cover that part; and yet they had enormous discretion and knew how to use it.

How could you KNOW you passed the test, if pride or arrogance or self-belief or some other atrocity of unrealism might defile your interior, and make your spirit only slightly better than lunatic ? You could worship God in your heart, but then if you had not actually met Him ...

Meanwhile, Little A decided to make a test of character, for he said, Test All Things, that is a command in I Thessalonians 5. Test ? let me put myself in a trying situation and see if character pull me through, he artlessly thought.

Yet a mere danger for danger's sake was no test, and danger meant peril and peril could mean damage and damage was no great souvenir of character.

As he pondered, a storm to intimidate the brave arose, and its passion threw him about as if he were an Autumn leaf driven against a drain. His first reaction was hostility - WHY did this happen to me ? His next was guilt ? I know I must have fallen, he suddenly declared to himself, realism becoming clear in the test situation. Perhaps it is rebuke. At that, the storm suddenly abated, and he saw in the distance sheep safely grazing on gently sloping hill, their creamy white bodies a symphony of peace as the sun of faith shone on them with gentle rays.

They have faith, thought Little A and I have ... well, what do I have. Character ? I do not know, but faith I do not have, because I do not know what to believe, or how you go about it. I DO believe in my Creator, since neither I nor any other being or power has what it takes to make my spirit; but what is He like ? is He like the VESA people ? But how could He be, since they rely on Him, not He on them, and He made them. An author is greater than his characters in a book, and can make more or even change them; though I doubt He would do that readily.

Yet He might; that is one thing I am dying to ask Him, when I come, but there, I am getting lost in thought, when I should be finding out about character. Then I can see Him, but how do you get an appointment ? I must see what is being done.

At this, he became more frightened than he had ever been, since there appeared quite near to him, something so grisly, so ghastly, so utterly horrible as to inspire awe. It came even closer to him, with its eyes have shut, and its mouth so widely opened that one would think he was placing his internal being for exhibition in a painting gallery. Who ARE you ? he queried.

I am a Fallen Character! was the response.

Instantly, he felt a mellowing of his feelings, and a sense of pity, as he remembered Let Down, and he asked, HOWEVER did you fall ? This was in part because of ignorance, in part through curiosity, and vaguely through some desire to help - but at a distance. He moved a little further away as he spoke.

Oh that was the easy part, said Fallen Character. You just do what comes naturally.

But our created nature could not be so bad as that, surely ? Little A questioned.

Oh yes, it could, Little A, for you see when you are born, you are not as pure as the seas, and they swallow up successfully a lot that is bad. Alas, at birth we are Challenged, and as we grow, we are shown the defects and some ignore them, some hate them, some overcome them through the Creator, but most simply grow them, like crystals, and hate the light because they are too proud.

How could they ? asked Little A, since to be worse and not be redeemed is ...

His face coloured. He had used that word. He had not meant to do so. It reminded him that he was very ignorant, and that there was much to be done in his life.

Redeemed ? spat out Fallen Character. If only I could be redeemed, I should be surpassingly happy.

I am afraid, Little A interpolated, that I could not advise you, since you see I am ignorant and little.

Yes, so I see, retorted Fallen Character. There are far too many spiritual ignoramuses about, if you ask me.

I didn't ask, replied Little A, and then realising that this was an Insensitive Remark, he quickly added, but I am sorry to be so ignorant and wish I could help.

I am sure you do, said the Fallen Character, for I can see under your arms the little light burning with a certain dull lustre ('dull lustre' thought Little A - mm); but you see only God can deliver me now, and I have fallen to the point of no return.

How did you do that ? asked Little A. Ah well, came the reply, you see, when you fool about with the redemption, and tread under foot the blood of Christ, and taste the heavenly things, and spit them out, and see the power of God at work, and despise it, then there can come an inability to want help; you just become submerged in the mud of your own subjectivity, and are squashed with the load of your own folly.

Is that hell ? suddenly asked Little A. I have heard of such a destination, but always try to go in the opposite direction, for who wants to be part of a rubbish heap.

Just so, said Fallen Character, just so.

Then Fallen Character found himself praying for those whom he had harmed, and for those who had harmed him, and Little A rejoiced, hoping this might be the beginning of a change in the Fallen one; but just as he was hoping, the spent spirit laughed and laughed, and declared this: I was only praying as a test, to see if I still could; but really I have no desire for any of them.

As he said these things, Little A became terrified, because he sensed spiritual forces that could crush and kill, and called on the name of God; but since He did not use the name given for such calls, the Lord Jesus Christ, he was not heard; but his cry was recorded; and it was known that he had cried.

Therefore a new opportunity at once came to him. As Fallen Character departed in a mist, like an unsavoury dream, Little A met another spiritual agent. Oh no! he cried inwardly, this is too much; this is education, but education can kill.

Hi there! cried the brassy voice of a beaming character. Don't ask me, I'll tell you, yes I know about Fallen Character, but I am Reformed Character, and I'll tell you all about it.

There was in his speech a quality so possessive and hungry, as if to eat up Little A, and at the same time so spouting, as if a volcano were erupting and sending out piles of molten lava, that Little A had only one desire, and that was to change the reference points of his location smartly.

As this however was a good test, and he wanted test, this was not providentially allowed to happen. He stood his ground therefore, and listened and listened. About an hour later, he felt he knew Reformed Character quite well, and knew as well, that this was not at all a good thing. It was too self-assertive, too filled with nostrums and rostrums and advice and wisdoms and understandings that seemed consistently to terminate on the system, the people in it and the steps taken, that it was like a mathematics books without the answers at the back, for checking.

As he spoke, this Character began to take out a spiritual tape with which to make spiritual measurements, and as the tape in some strange way seemed to be part of himself, drawn from his wings, he was busied for some time measuring himself by himself.

But how, thought Little A, who though untrained and ignorant, was far too wise to ask, how are you going to measure yourself in this way, since it is all about yourself, and there is nothing outside to serve as an objective measure ? II Corinthians 10:12 reverberated in his mind as he thought this, and he was intensely glad for the scriptures which he had learnt.

At this, he spoke courteously, declaring that it was interesting to hear of all of this, and with a slight bow, he departed to the Hills of Understanding. At least the name was reassuring, so he went gladly.

There he found a radiance which was strangely attractive. Approaching him on foot, and not flying for some reason, was a being on whose head constantly a light was shining, and this seemed not to come from himself, but upon him. A saint ? thought Little A ?

Reading his thoughts, Radiant Character, for that was his name, declared no, the term 'saint' is for mortals when they are redeemed ('redeemed', that word again, thought Little A, but he knew better than to interrupt). I am a restored angel.

How did you come to fall ? asked Little A. Oh that! we do not talk about that, said the Radiant one, because you see it can mislead others readily, and it is ugly. However the Lord Jesus Christ . ..

This time, Little A simply could not help asking, Who is He ? and how could a mortal help angels ?

By nature, He is not mortal, replied the Radiant Character, and though it is true that He became a man, He is in fact the everlasting God, God the expression, the Word, the exact representation of the Almighty, His eternal fellow and it is He who created all.

How strange! muttered Little A, though he had read as much in Philippians 2 and Hebrews 1, though at that time it seemed just words, whilst now it became alive with a meaning that assailed his thoughts and invested itself more and more in his heart.

Not strange is you realise one thing, said the Radiant Character, but first I must ask you, Do you know who you are ?

Oh yes, said Little A, at once glad for one occasion to be able to know at least something. I am Little Angel, probably fallen, but I don't know why, and I am seeking understanding, and my present task is to find character, to test it, to see if I have any.

Ah! said Radiant Character, I can see character clearly, but it is not redeemed.

Is it any good ? asked Little A.

It should be far better, said the Radiant one; but it is not for me to judge, it is just that its radiance is well down.

How could it be turned up ? asked the little one. Is there a meter of some kind ?

No, there is not, said the Radiant one.

Just as things were becoming interesting, the latter suddenly disappeared.

A fine thing! thought the Little one, to have knowledge and understanding depart just as I was on the brink of gaining it all. Not without the Lord! came a voice which seemed almost to be under his own arm, but which appeared at the same time a distant echo.

I wish I could meet someone else to tell me! mourned the little one.

Just then, there was a violent commotion, and he saw a veritable host of arguing, contending, competing people, many in pulpits and mosques, in synagogues and churches, of various kinds, and they could agree on nothing, and since everyone knew everything, it was pandemonium.

Distasteful as this was, Little A decided to watch and see if there was any character in it all.

He wandered around, with the cloak of invisibility with which he had been equipped in Nursery School, and listened. Harsh words, ill-temper, final judgments, people being sent to hell verbally even in retrospect, people like John Wesley filled with good works and talking of justification without works, and many others, and he wondered a little at this.

He had been taught some of these things, although the key had never been provided, or if it had, he had never realised it. He had also been taught about judging things before the time, and he recalled II Corinthians 4 with some relish here. He wondered about all these as he wandered, and as he wandered he realised that his mind was wandering too. The truth was there, and it needed to be known.

Justification ? what really was that. As he been listening, the more he heard, the more he realised it was hopeless for his cramped spirit to tell, and then a tornado took him to a place by the sea, and he was glad for the escape from the religious hullabaloo, and entering a little Church, he saw what was apparently a Radiant Character, who was telling the Gospel as he called it.

However, it was about character, and building on it, and how you could help Jesus to save you by it, and such things, and as the man spoke, Little A noticed under his wings, as dark a light as he had ever seen, and remembered the words of Jesus, that if the light that is in you, be darkness, how GREAT is that DARKNESS. Distressed, he quickly left the church, if it could be called that, and breathed in deeply of the sea air, declaring to himself, IF ONLY I could go and see God! And then he remembered the scripture taught him in Nursery School for Little Angels, in II Corinthians 11, about false apostles, and that in Galatians, about another Gospel which is not another; and he understood.
 

It seemed so strange to him then, since he had sought character, not understanding, and here was understanding and still no idea of character, whether he had any at all; and he was somehow glad, for first things first was another nursery dictum, and unless you forsake all that you have, you cannot be my disciple, this came to him, and he remembered where it was, in Luke 14, because he had always loved scripture, the Bible. He scurried out of the place, even if the seascape was surpassingly beautiful, and was left quite ignorant about his character, except for the words of one of the characters he had met, about being born with a fall inside.

However, he also remembered that angels are not born, so he supposed that that character must have been human, dressed as an angel; and then he wondered if this too was deception, and in any case, if he himself could not be born, how could he be fallen, except he had done it himself. It was too bad for mortals, and then more understanding came to him.

Jesus Christ, the eternal word of God, His comrade and in the form of God, HE was not mortal, since God is not, and it is no image of God to be so; and yet He had certainly died, for that was the whole point of His prophetically depicted coming. But why, why and why again ?

Was He too a fallen character, and did He die as a result of some rebellion ? Did it not say in Isaiah 53, that we esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted ? And was He ? Was  it for His own offences ? No, it could not be that, since it proceeded to say that it was because of our offences that in fact He was smitten. It puts the two in contrast: we thought His offences, but it was for ours.

Since He was not mortal, how did He die ? He pondered the point.

Then understanding came like an express train in the night, for after all, he HAD gone to the Hills of Understanding in his troubles earlier, and he who asks, gains, when it is in spirit and in the way of the Lord. He died because men were guilty, and He loved them enough to do that particular thing for them, so that they would not have to experience a mortality which would be their shroud and destiny. Why did He do that ? Why I do it if I could ? mused Little A, and as he mused he grew and no longer seemed quite so small, but on the other hand, his actual dimensions seemed to shrink, from the visible aspect, so that he was becoming more like a little child.

I would do it for only one reason, he thought; and that would be that I loved them.

I would therefore not try to force them, but I would provide for all, enough, and disburse funds, pay for those who actually took the offer, wasting nothing on any, and providing precisely nothing for those who took precisely nothing. That is just what Romans 8:32, has he thought. Those for whom He is delivered up, are those who get all things! It is the people of God who are the topic right there.

How strange! he mused, it was a prospective realisation that covered their sin, with a mission that in eternal retrospect, knew His own, and that before the beginning, before He even made what He planned.

How noble is He, and how fortunate, how eternally fortunate, no, how blessed they are, for the love is to all as in Colossians 1, and that, you know, it is almost comforting, and it would certainly be so, if only I were not an angel. How I NEED understanding!

But love, that is easy to understand though almost unimaginable in its extent, for the Creator to die for crushed residues of His own making, who became so by their own dealings.

Would I really die for them if I could, even to cover those who responded, and to assure all ?

Death is too horrid, and dying is too fatal. There is only that one way. He must have loved them intensely, as if they were His own; and of course, in creation they were, and His desire for them I can understand, though surely it is the most beautiful thing outside Himself, in the universe that He did so. Love, mercy and truth in a triangle of peace: there is beauty in its harmony, its happiness, its depth, its sense of distillation and essence!

How fortunate they were, to be loved. Now if he were loved, that would be utterly wonderful; I mean, he thought, the sort of love that forgives, reconstructs, changes the due destiny, though of course He must have known, since He knows all. Perhaps THAT is where character comes from, the spiritual character which is not founded on yourself, the angelic culture (there ARE bad angels, he pondered), or the ways of the celestial regions (they had a revolt once from Satan, he recalled from Revelation 12, with some awe). Ah yes, he mused, for understanding was increasing like the light of the sun after a dark cloud has obliterated the view for yours, and then dissipates as if it felt it had no more place there, so that what had seemed aerially implacable, became atmospherically just and lovely.

If character comes from knowing God, and knowing God comes from the Lord Jesus Christ, not mortal as a being, but dying in the form of man by humility, format and love, while arising as if death were a weevil in porridge, since it could not claim Him who brought it into existence as a penalty for guilt unremitted, then knowing the Lord Jesus Christ must be essential.

But how ? asked a queer character who had just appeared while the Little Angel was still lost in thought, how on earth could you be saved by Him, since you are not on earth ?

He died on earth and you ... and you ... and you ... the words resounded mistily, as Little A woke up, and found that he had fallen into a trance, in his subjection to dismay and distress.

THAT, he said, that does it. That is sin, it is without character, it is without resolve, it is weak, and I did not speak up to that horrible thing, whatever it was, that cast a shadow on my spirit, like a vast vulture (he had read about these horrors in Nursery School) intent on devouring the dead. Why! he exclaimed in horror, he could have devoured me in my trance.

That settles it. I shall have to have knowledge, for otherwise, how could I know how to find God. So he set off on the path of knowledge, except that he did not quite know where to find it; but that is another story.