Why pray? | Holy lives of inspiration
Some years ago, I read a story about a little boy named Eamon, who was gravely ill and being treated in a children’s hospital. His parents kept vigil by his bedside day and night. One nurse recalled walking past his room in the small hours of the morning and finding his mother singing softly to him, holding his frail hand. She said it was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed: in that dimly lit hospital room, it felt like she had stepped into holy ground.
The boy Eamon eventually passed away, but his parents said they felt surrounded, carried even, by a strength beyond their own, the kind you can’t explain but only receive. That, I believe, is the quiet work of angels. Not always with trumpets and fire, but with presence, with consolation, with a reminder that God is near.
When we hear Daniel’s vision in the Bible—thrones set in place, rivers of fire, the “Ancient of Days” clothed in glory, it feels like something out of a movie. You almost expect special effects and a booming soundtrack. Daniel wasn’t writing a screenplay. He was trying to put into words an experience of God’s majesty that words can hardly hold.
I once read about how the builders of medieval cathedrals in Europe used to spend years, even decades, carving stone decorations on rooftops no one would ever see. Think about that. They knew their work would be invisible to the average worshipper, hidden hundreds of feet above the ground. Yet they did it for the glory of God, trusting that even if no human eye noticed, heaven surely did. Daniel’s vision is like that: a reminder that what we see is only a fragment of reality. Behind the veil, God’s throne is surrounded by thousands upon thousands, and every small act here, seen or unseen, matters in the great drama of eternity.
Now, this feast of the Archangels reminds us that heaven is not a static courtroom but a living community. Michael defends, Gabriel announces, Raphael heals. Each one reveals a different face of God’s love; that is deeply reassuring, because it means God does not leave us to face life’s mess alone. Angels don’t just belong to stained-glass windows. They step into the grit of history.
Remember the story in Genesis 18, when Abraham entertained three mysterious visitors under the oak tree at Mamre? He thought he was hosting weary travelers, but he was actually entertaining messengers of the divine. That story tells us something vital: heaven bends down in ordinary disguise, and God’s messengers show up at doorways, in hospital rooms, in unexpected phone calls, or even in the stranger who interrupts our carefully planned day.
Daniel’s vision also points us to the “Son of Man” receiving dominion. What strikes me here is not the power, but the humility of that title. “Son of Man.” God crowns humanity itself with dignity, not by dazzling force but by solidarity. That’s where the Archangels point us to:
Maybe that’s the challenge of this feast: to recognize that the throne of God is not only high above us but also hidden among us. Every time you defend someone who’s being mistreated, you echo Michael. Every time you speak a word of encouragement to a discouraged friend, you become a Gabriel. Every time you sit with someone in pain, sick, or hurting, you are living Raphael’s mission.
So perhaps we don’t need wings to be angels. We only need the courage to let God’s glory shine through ordinary flesh. Daniel’s vision, with its rivers of fire and heavenly choirs, may seem larger than life, but maybe it reminds us that our own lives are larger than we think. Heaven is closer, God is nearer, and ordinary people—teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, friends—can reflect its glory.
Be an angel to someone today.
Father Boby John, C.S.C., ordained a priest in the Congregation of Holy Cross in 2008, worked as a pastor and an educator with tribal populations in Northeast India for thirteen years. Originally from Kerala, India, Father Boby grew up with his parents and three siblings. He is a dedicated and detailed educationist with a Master's degree in Educational Management and is pursuing a PhD in Educational Leadership. He is currently working as the Co-Director of Family Rosary, USA, and as the chaplain at the world headquarters of Holy Cross Family Ministries, North Easton, Massachusetts.
