Our Father has assigned angels of all classifications to care for His children: some teach, some guide, some protect (as with the angel armies).
But if a more personal protective intervention is needed, there is the angelic choir called: “HELPS”. [The word “choir” is from an Anglo-French root meaning an organized group or a division of angels.]
This account is of my first interaction with a member of one such squad: AZAR, the angels of HELPS.
The incident begins with a vision. The vision leads into an experience. [The two are very different ways of receiving spiritual information. A vision is outside the body – like a movie. An experience draws one into the unfolding narrative.]
THE ATTACK
The sound was ancient and terrifying.
Startled, I spun around to see a colossal battering ram relentlessly moving under its own power across a desert basin.1 Its wooden wheels were at least sixty stories high, and they groaned and yawned under the extreme weight they bore. Blasphemies were carved into its black battering arm, the end of which was the iron head of a goat.2
Although it moved slowly, people on the desert floor seemed helpless to avoid its path; they were crushed as it rolled over them.3 Screams filled the desert valley and ricocheted off distant rock formations, filling the desert basin with terror.
Slowly the battering ram topped a sandy hill and began to pick up speed going down the other side. Breathless from shock, I clawed with my hands and dug with my feet into the deep sand of the hill in order to reach the top and watch its path.
It picked up tremendous speed as it plunged down the other side of the hill into a deep valley. In its path at the bottom of the hill was a walled city. Both city and wall were the color of the sand and seemed to be half sunk into it, almost reclaimed by the sand from which they had come. In faded lettering on the side of the wall I could read: THE CHURCH.4
The battering ram was massive, and the adobe wall of the city did not look strong. With brutal impact, the goat’s head smashed into the wall and continued through it. It plowed through the houses and buildings, losing little of its speed. When it broke through the wall on the opposite side of the city, it slowed to a stop, settling into the sand.
A strange silence fell.
Occasional screams broke this silence. They came from those who had been mutilated or from those who recognized that a loved one had been killed. But stranger than the silence was the fact that few sought to escape across the rubble of the wall – few.
Then slowly, all by itself, the battering ram turned and began to start up the hill again, moving in my direction. The goat’s head on the end of the ram was laughing, exhilarated, as if drunk with blood.
I thought it might see me, so I left the top of the hill and began to run in the opposite direction. As I ran, I frantically scanned the desert basin for a hiding place. I could hear the huge wheels laboring as they carried the battering ram toward the top of the hill again.
Suddenly an angel began to fly beside me.
“Where can I hide from the battering ram?” I shouted as I ran.
“The battering ram rolls relentlessly over all the earth now. Up high,” the angel said, “up higher than it can see is the only safe place. Let me show you.”
THE ESCAPE
With a wave of the angel’s hand, a stairway appeared, touching the earth and reaching beyond my view into heaven.5 I moved to the base of the stairs and looked up. I was still heaving from running.
The angel flew beside the stairs, higher than its base on Earth, and waved me upward: “Come on!” the angel shouted. “The ram is coming, and we don’t want him to see this stairway. Come on!”
There were no hand rails on the narrow stairs. The stairs were clear like glass, which can be slippery. I could hear the battering ram rolling; although I was still panting, I began to run up the stairs.
“Faster!” the angel called.
I kept my eyes on the stairs. In his hands the angel had a scarlet cord fastened to the stairs at the bottom.6 I could hear the battering ram getting closer, but the angel pulled the cord and brought up the first section of the stairway, like attic stairs that can be lowered and raised.
“Hurry!” the angel urged.
I continued to run up the steps, breathless. The angel pulled the thin rope, and another section of the stairs rose.
“Keep climbing,” the angel said, although now his tone of voice was less urgent.
With a mighty effort, I completed the stairs and turned to make sure I had indeed escaped. The battering ram was directly below, rolling beneath us as the third section of the stairs was pulled up.
“You were safe after climbing the second set of stairs; but to be really safe, you needed to pass the third,”7-8 he said.
As the battering ram rolled past, I tried to catch my breath and settle myself. Only then did I look around.
“Where am I?” I asked.
PARADISE
“Paradise,” the angel smiled, as he tied the cord holding the stairs to a docking post.9 A sign above the post read STAIRPORT.
I looked out over the most beautiful park I had ever seen. There were gentle rolling hills, beds of subtly colored flowers, and grass as uniform and green as the rolled lawns of English manor houses. A walking path crossed this part of the park. There were also quiet pools, a stream, and luxuriant trees that on Earth would have provided shade, but there was no shade or any shadows here. A soft light emanated from everything growing.
“Beautiful,” I thought.
“Yes, isn’t it,” the angel answered.
I did not seem surprised that he read my thoughts. I turned to look at him; only then did his appearance register with me. He looked to be six feet two or six feet three inches in height and in his mid-thirties, if I were gauging by human years. He had brown curly hair and wore a brown, transparent, full-length robe. Underneath the thin brown robe I could see that he had on blue-and-white-striped work overalls, the sort one might obtain in the store of a farming community. The thought struck me that the brown overrobe was so thin that it was probably cool to wear when working.
A coil of rope crossed his shoulder and chest, circled in a wide loop near his waist, and returned across his back to the shoulder again. He wore a white belt, from which hung a white tool pouch. This pouch looked a little like the handtool belt worn by telephone repairers. He was unlacing a pair of silver-tipped, brown, high-top work boots as he spoke to me.
“No shoes up here,” he smiled. “This is holy ground.” I looked down at my own feet and saw that that they too were bare.
He stood up, putting the boots under his arm. “You’re safe here,” the angel continued. “All of that is down below.”
“What was that?” I asked.
“The great enemy of our Lord and of His church.”
“But it was destroying the church,” I exclaimed.
THE TWO CHURCHES
“Some of it may be destroyed – that which calls itself the church,” he continued. “It has a sign saying it is the church, and many live behind that sign. But the church – the real church – escaped; the real church is alive and can run faster than any battering ram can roll. It’s clumsy, really; but if you are dead stones, if you are not alive, then of course it is more than any man-made structure can resist. However, the real, living church of Jesus Christ can hide in caves, float on the water, or climb into Paradise.10 A member of the real church will know where the hidden stairs are located. That person can call for help, and we will let down the stairs so that he can escape. The real church is more agile than the battering ram. Living stones have feet.”
Then, like someone who had just remembered his manners, he said, “Would you like some refreshments? It would help you.”
“All right,” I said, trying to get my bearings.
A tray of fruit floated to us.11 “Here you are,” the angel said, gesturing toward the tray, “a choice.”
I reached to make a selection of fruit. Some varieties I had seen on Earth, and some I had not. All were without blemish. We both made selections and began to eat.12
“You need to get acquainted with the locations of the hidden stairs,” he continued.
“Is there a map?” I asked.
“No,” the angel laughed. “The map is in the Spirit. By your following His leading, He directs you to the hidden stairs.”
I glanced toward the stairport. “These stairs look like glass,” I said.
“Light,” the angel replied.13 “Nice, aren’t they?”
“Do people ever fall off these stairs?”
“Not if they keep their eyes on Jesus,” he chuckled, “but I wouldn’t advise looking over the side. You might get wobbly doing that.”
“This is good fruit,” I exclaimed.
“Yup, everything’s good up here,” the angel said, mimicking a cowhand.
I laughed, bemused. He was not anything like my idea of an angel. “What is your name?” I asked him.
THE ANGEL AZAR
“Azar,” the angel said, “I’m the one who answers you when you call for help.”14
“Is there only one of you?” I asked.
“You mean for the whole earth? Oh no, I couldn’t take care of the whole earth. We’re assigned to a small number to whose call we will respond, more or less according to lifestyle. Sometimes a stunt person will need one of us all by him or herself, but usually we can handle five. The boss chooses who they will be.”
“The boss?” I said.
“Well, our immediate boss, not the Lord; no, I mean the angel in charge of helps. While you are living on Earth, I’m the one who will answer your call for help. So don’t take up mountain climbing,” he laughed.
He amazed me.
“Had enough fruit?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I said. The tray of fruit disappeared.
THE SUGGESTION
“Now,” the angel continued, “you can return the way you came. The present danger is past, but I would suggest that you take the path to the throne room. You must be here for a reason, but that knowledge has not been given to me. Your Father can tell you why you have come.”
“My Father?” I said, glancing out into the park, lost in reflection. It seemed inconceivable, not only that I was in Paradise, but also that I could go to see my heavenly Father as a child might go to see an earthly one.
“Certainly,” he said, reading my thoughts. “Just take the path.”
“Does this path lead to the throne room?”
“All paths here lead to God. They are not like the paths on Earth.”
I looked toward the path as if it were a distant horizon too far away to reach.
“Go on,” he laughed. “Go see your Daddy. I’ll be here when it’s time for you to return.”
I turned to search his face.
“Don’t you want to know why you’re here?” he asked.
“Yes,” I laughingly exclaimed.
He threw up his hands and shrugged, as if to say, “Well?”
“Thank you,” I said earnestly.
He smiled at me and spoke quietly, “The Creator of the universe desires your company. Don’t keep Him waiting.”
I smiled and showed him that I was stepping onto the path.
He called after me, “I’ll be here when it’s time to return.”
I waved to him, acknowledging that I had heard. Then, somewhat breathlessly, I set my face toward the throne room.
SIDE NOTES
God’s judgement against sin has begun with His household, the church (1 Pet 4:17; Rev 14:7). His purpose is to separate the weeds from the wheat of the living and true church (Matt. 13:40-43; 1 Cor. 11:18-19; Rev. 18:2-4).
The adobe walls represent that which is constructed by “the flesh” of religious people from whom God calls “dust” (Gen. 3:19; Jer. 17:5) and who are powerless against Satan and his hordes (2 Cor. 10:3-4; Isa 31:1).
Jesus Christ is the ladder or “the way” to heaven, for “no one comes to the Father but through [him]”. (John 14:6).
The scarlet cord that is secured to the first section of the stairway into heaven represents the first stage of redemption through the cross of Calvary (Josh. 2:18).
The second section of the stairway is the second stage of redemption through the cross of Calvary.
The third section secures one’s position in the heavenly realm with Christ “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion” of the enemy (Eph. 1:21).
The word Paradise means “park or garden.” The Father designed the true Garden of Eden there especially for the Lord Jesus (Song of Sol. 5:1; 6:2; Ezek. 28:13). In His garden the original tree of life still grows (Rev. 2:7).
Slaves did not wear shoes in households in biblical days; only the members of the family were shod (Luke 15:22). Hence, removing one’s shoes in the presence of God acknowledged that one did not own or control the holy ground on which one stood (Exod. 3:5; Josh. 5:15).
The living church on Earth is the body of born-again Christians who share a common life of glorifying and obeying the Lord Jesus through keeping His Word and through worship, prayer, and fellowship – all as energized by the Holy Spirit.
The heavenly fruit is made of God’s light and is eaten by the angels and the redeemed there (Rev. 2:7).
The Hebrew word that means “help” is azar.
Angels only know what God the Spirit reveals to them. There are matters that Christians know but that angels do not know (1 Pet. 1:12).
Scriptural notes which further clarify this revelation are to be found in the Teaching Archives.
November 2015 Teaching Archives – God’s Rescue Squad
