Concluding Thoughts - The Incarnation and Existence in the Flesh
Even though we speak of inferior and superior angels, there is no desire for superiority among the angelic orders. Their ruling desire is that God be loved, which translates into the desire to lift up the inferior angels as far as they are capable of being lifted. The life of angels is characterized by total generosity. If an angel could lift another higher than itself, there would be no stopping it. But each angel is its own species, and so in each angel there is a natural capacity that is essentially limited, as there is a limited capacity to human nature.
An angel elevates another by illuminating it, that is, communicating to it the manifestation of known truth. The benevolent outpouring is as complete as it can be. The higher the angel, the more universal and penetrating its apprehension or conception. The intellect of the inferior angel is not sufficiently powerful to receive such a conception in its universality. It is natural for the inferior angel to receive the truth in a more particular manner. And so the superior angel particularizes the truth that he conceives universally, somewhat like a teacher who adapts what he knows to the capacity of his students.
Does this mean that the angels of the lower two hierarchies do not behold the essence of God immediately? Not at all. All the angels see the divine essence immediately. But one angel will behold more of the divine essence than will another angel. St. Thomas refers to the exemplars of the divine works, which are known in God as in their cause. God comprehends Himself perfectly, and no other creature can comprehend God, but a superior angel will know more about the exemplars of the divine works than an inferior angel, and it is concerning these exemplars that the superior illumines the inferior.
There is no sorrow in being an inferior angel, and much less is there sorrow for the beatified man in being the lowest creature on the hierarchy of intelligent creatures. Supernatural charity delights in having others to look up to. For it desires the lowest place. That is why the Word became flesh. In fact, the Incarnation sheds a whole new light on existence in the flesh and brings about a kind of reversal in the order of creation. Angels will always remain superior in nature to human beings, but the order of the Incarnation makes it possible for the human person to rise higher than the Seraphim. For in his ascension, Christ has risen higher than the entire order of angelic natures (Cf. Hebrews 1, 3-13).
Jesus is Jacob’s ladder. And in him we too, in principle, can rise higher than the Seraphim angels. Aquinas writes: “…by the gift of grace men can merit glory in such a degree as to be equal to the angels, in each of the angelic grades; and this implies that men are taken up into the orders of the angels” (ST. I. Q. 108. a. 8). By virtue of Christ’s ascension, human nature has acquired a new dignity. This is so much the case that we can even speak of a holy envy in the angels; for they cannot suffer, and thus enter into and share in the sufferings of the Incarnate Word. We can be like the God-Man; they cannot. Because we are subject to time, we can labour to acquire the abject virtues of patience, endurance, forbearance, and humility, and thus become more conformed to the image of Christ. We can climb Jacob’s ladder by descending, by entering more completely into the mind of Christ, who did not deem “equality with God something to be grasped, but rather emptied himself, taking the form of a slave” (Phil 2, 6-7).
Mary is a prime example of this; for she is superior to all the angels, not according to her nature, but by the fullness of grace. For she is “Queen of Angels”, according to the Litany of Loretto. Her charity is superior, and just as it is the ardor of charity that makes the Seraphim higher than the Cherubim, so too the ardor of the love of the Mother of God renders her greater than the highest orders of angels. Her love endured a suffering more acute than anything that will ever be visited upon another human being; for she witnessed the suffering and death of her son, whom she loved with a love stronger than the death that engulfed him.
The death of Christ is the most perfect act of justice, for it is the perfect religious act. It is because of our existence in the flesh that we can become part of that perfect act of religion that took place on Good Friday. We do so through communion. But angels cannot receive the flesh and blood of Christ, given up for us, in the Eucharist. Angels cannot die, and so they cannot die his death as we can by abiding in his flesh (Jn 6, 53-57).
This is the genius of the divine love, to take what is lowest and, through the impotence of the cross, transform it into what is noblest. Only pure omnipotence can transform the ignominy of the cross into the image of perfect Beauty. What a blessing it is to be less than the angels.
