What do angels look like?

This is not a question that one of my daughters asked me recently.  This is just a topic I’ve been pondering lately (especially after today). 

The picture of an "angel" in my mind is dominated by big bird wings and brightly lit faces.  Thanks to some of the prophetic OT books and Revelations, I sometimes think of a multitude of grotesque eyeballs covering a shape and form my brain can’t quite comprehend.  And then I step back from the mystical and remember that angels (like Jesus himself) have often shown up veiled in human flesh.  Our eyes see only the God-inspired dust puppets we pass on the street every day (like Michael Landon?)–we often don’t see what really lies beneath.  Just how often do we miss encounters with the divine?

Where is all this coming from you might be asking?  I’ve been reading (chewing on slowly) Henri Nouwen’s book Reaching Out.  In this book Nouwen talks about three movements within the spiritual life.  The movements from loneliness to solitude, from hostility to hospitality, and from illusion to prayer.  In the section on hospitality Nouwen draws attention to our misunderstanding of what it means to show hospitality.  Here’s what he says:

At first the word "hospitality" might evoke the image of soft sweet kindness, tea parties, bland conversations and a general atmosphere of coziness.  Probably this has its good reasons since in our culture the concept of hospitality has lost much of its power and is often used in circles where we are more prone to expect a watered down piety than a serious search for an authentic Christian spirituality.  But still, if there is any concept worth restoring to its original depth and evocative potential, it is the concept of hospitality.  It is one of the richest biblical terms that can deepen and broaden our insight in our relationships to our fellow human beings.  Old and New Testament stories not only show how serious our obligation is to welcome the stranger in our home, but they also tell us that guests are carrying precious gifts with them, which they are eager to reveal to a receptive host.  When Abraham received three strangers at Mamre and offered them water, bread and a fine tender calf, they revealed themselves to him as the Lord announcing that Sarah his wife would give birth to a son…When the widow of Zarephath offered food and shelter to Elijah, he revealed himself as a man of God offering her an abundance of oil and meal and raising her son from the dead…When the two travelers to Emmaus invited the stranger, who had joined them on the road to stay with them for the night, he made himself known in the breaking of the bread as their Lord and Saviour.

When hostility is converted into hospitality then fearful strangers can become guests revealing to their hosts the promise they are carrying with them.  Then, in fact, the distinction between host and guest proves to be artificial and evaporates in the recognition of the new found unity.

Nouwen goes on to stress that hospitality is not limited to receiving a stranger into our home, but that it is a "fundamental attitude toward our fellow human being" which allows us to open ourselves up to people we don’t know and create a "safe space" (wherever it may be) where they can be themselves and engage with us.  When host and guest meet in this type of space, secret treasures may be revealed…if we’re looking for them.

So at this point you might be asking,"What does this have to with oranges?"

I’m getting there.

So I went out today not expecting much in the way of the "mystical".  I don’t have mystical type days too often.  The only other semi-mystical experiences I can remember involved an angel-shaped cloud I saw in the sky that I’m pretty sure God put there for my benefit (that’s another story) and a mistaken instance when I thought God wanted me to go get a waitering job at Bennigan’s (a TGI Fridays-type restaurant in which I had no previous experience or qualifications to work.  I didn’t get the job.  Big surprise there.)  OK, I do have better examples, but we don’t have time for those right now; mystical is not the norm for me.

Today I was expecting a haircut and I got one.  That’s about all I had planned after class.  But as I was walking from the bus stop back to my house I got stopped on the street by a stranger.  This is not uncommon for me here in Xining (exhibit A, exhibit B, exhibit C, exhibit D) so I didn’t think much of it.  The gentlemen who stopped me however had some distinct features.  He was Chinese but he probably wasn’t Han Chinese (he didn’t look it to me anyway).  Perhaps he was Hui or Uighur?  His eyelids did not extend down to cover his distinct greenish-hazel eyes.  Greenish-hazel eyes?  They seemed very intelligent (even though I find it quite odd to describe them this way.)

Anyway, what struck me next about this mysterious stranger was that he spoke very quick, very clear English.  He said.

"Hello, excuse me, may I ask you a question?"

I said, "Sure."  (I’ve been learning a lot from Nouwen, you see.)

"There is an old English proverb that goes something like this…" (An English proverb? I hope it’s one I’ve actually heard.)

"When the going gets tough…(pause)…the tough get go-ing."  (Good, I’ve heard that one.)

"What does this mean?" he asked.  He tilted his head with curiosity and stared at me with his jade eyes.

(Uh, what does that mean.  Process…process…you can almost hear the computer chips clicking from my ears.  The cooling fan is blowing in there somewhere.  It’s the obvious questions that always stump you!)  In probably only a second I respond…

"It means that in…uh…hard times…the…uh…"

He interjected with, "hard working man…"   

I said almost at the same time, "Tough…hen lihai de Ren…" (I thought some Chinese might grease the wheels.)  "Yes, they might be hard working, but they are also hen lihai…strong.  The strong…do something about it.  They do something."

I could see that a light bulb went off and was hanging above this gentlemen’s head.  He said, "Oh, so ‘get going’ means they do something then.  Oh, thank you very much."

And he was off.  I barely had time to think to say anything before he left, but I did turn and tell him, "You speak English very well!" It felt like something at least.

After this happened I didn’t immediately think the not-so-very-Chinese looking gentlemen with greenish eyes and good pronunciation was an angel.  Who would?!?  But I did think it was interesting what he had asked me.  It seemed odd–like something I wanted to really think about later when I had more time.  So, in a typical counter-intuitive strategy to process this encounter I quickly forgot it ever happened.

I went home, showed the wife and kids the new dew, and then remembered that it was binzi pizza night and I had forgotten to buy the binzi (very important).  I put my shoes back on and went back to the market across the street.

Upon entering the market, I saw a familiar face.  Who else, but the tougher-get-going guy!  He smiled at me; I smiled at him as we passed and he immediately started to fidget with his plastic bags.

At first I responded in typical fear-the-stranger fashion.  Internally, I was worried and confused.  "Oh, no."  I thought.  "He wants me to buy some of his fruit?"  Why would I think something absurd like this?  Obviously, he had come to the market to BUY fruit not sell it, but this type of paranoia is how I have been trained to think by my culture and personality.

Instead of enticing me to buy, this kind gentlemen pulled out a ripe orange from his bag.  He was offering me a sign of his gratitude for explaining a proverb.  (Are we still living in the 21st century or had I suddenly been transported back to a simpler more beautiful time?)  I know it sounds funny, but I felt so humbled by this act of goodwill.  I did the right thing.  I tried to resist the gift at first, waving my hands and mumbling something in Chinese (very cultural) but quickly relented and accepted the outstretched orange offering.

As it touched my palm I thanked him (which isn’t really necessary in this culture but I am a foreigner after all) and we walked off in opposite directions.  It wasn’t until then that I thought about Nouwen’s words about treasures that are hidden that can only be unearthed when strangers feel it is safe to meet and allow one another past their defenses.  It wasn’t until I was buying my own fruit that I wondered about angels and what they look like?  I wondered why that proverb was on that gentlemen’s mind today when I had been thinking earlier in the day how "tough" it can be to live as a stranger here in China.  I was thinking about all the years of preparation to get here and how the table gets turned as soon as you arrive.  You are baby again, starting life all over, and one year in still feels like it is ALL going to be uphill for awhile.  These are the thoughts I was having and along comes a stranger who asks me what "tough people" do during "tough times".

Well, they get going don’t they?  They do something (whatever something is for them).  They don’t sit around bemoaning their immaturity.  They grow up–in order to overcome the difficulties that the tough time avails.  They prove their metal and persevere (because they know Who holds them) and they don’t expect to get an orange in return.

But sometimes an angel throws an orange anyway.  And sometimes, I think, angels have smiling green eyes.