Prepare for an unexpected dive into a random topic:
I have had Thoughts assemble (grudgingly on this cloudy day) and thus have put them down here.
I always did like St. Michael, and not for one reason. He is, firstly, an angel. Those tend to be spectacular beings of themselves, evil or not. He is among the legions of angels devoted to loving and serving God forever, so there’s that going for him too. (That’s made obvious by the abbreviated ‘Sanctus’ before his name…in case you were wondering.)
Those named after him have as their patron saint, the centurion of Christ’s armies – and what a name has he!
Names on earth, like all worldly things, are temporary. St. John the Evangelist speaks of a new name – a secret name, known to the person and God alone – given to all in Paradise, and one can only imagine what it could be. I imagine that it will perfectly describe the person as he is.
(A thought on the side; maybe those in Hell are doomed to a name in the same way with which they are forced bear for eternity? We don’t know . . . being nameless, without meaning and identity may be among the greater intellectual torments.)
I assume that the angels all have names as unique as the species of each, already set in stones, and the few that we know are rusted-down versions so that we poor fools can understand them a little.
We know what the Archangel’s name means: ‘Quis ut Deus? – Who is like God?’
It’s not a rhetorical question (the answer being ‘Nobody’ or ‘Everybody’ depending on your argument and both can be correct), nor a statement that he is like God, but a challenge. A defiant battle-cry at the fleeing demons. Who IS like God?
It’s a challenge to us as well. ‘ All you commanded to be perfect as the Father is – Who is like God?’ and then if the angels have humour as I’d like them to, he’d ask ‘Who among you is?’ – Not specifically directed at individual persons, if only to extract the usual answer to start a philosophical debate.
We stand here, heads down, kicking the dust nervously and deliver the expected reply with minds full of humanity’s failings and voices full of woe: “…Nobody….”
And the vibrant commander of myriad superlegions laughs.