The Creation of Angels

Five Surprising Ideas About Angels from a Forgotten 19th-Century Book

When we think of angels today, the image is often a simple one: serene figures with white robes, halos, and feathered wings. They are symbols of protection, purity, and otherworldly perfection. This popular image, however, can obscure a much deeper, more intellectually rigorous tradition of thought about what these beings might actually be.
Recently, a fascinating glimpse into this older tradition came to light from a rare 19th-century book on Christian dogma titled Meditations on Christian Dogma, written by Father James Bellord. The text was shared by Sister Mary Claire, who received the volume as a treasured gift from an elderly nun in County Kilkenny, Ireland. This old book, far from offering simple platitudes, presents a vision of angels that is complex, mysterious, and cosmically vast. Here are five surprising ideas from its pages that challenge our modern assumptions.

1. The Great Unknown: The Creation of Angels is a Profound Mystery
In our era, which often demands scientific certainty, it is startling to encounter a historical religious text that openly embraces mystery. Father Bellord’s work begins not with definitive answers about the angels' origin, but with a profound admission of what we cannot know. The text states that fundamental questions about their creation are simply beyond human comprehension.
The specific mysteries listed are immense in their implications:
• Whether angels were created in time, like our universe, or outside of it in a state of eternity.
• Whether their creation was an instantaneous act or a process that unfolded over immense periods, perhaps even "numberless millions of years."
This willing acknowledgment of the unknown is compelling. In a departure from rigid dogmatism, it prioritizes humility and wonder, framing the nature of creation as a subject of awe rather than a settled fact. In an age like ours, this 19th-century embrace of the "impenetrable" feels like a radical act of intellectual humility.
Here are wondrous treasures of science, impenetrable to us now, but reserved for our knowledge in the kingdom of God.

2. A Separate Universe: Angels Might Be a Distinct Order of Being
The text explores two competing theories about the fundamental nature of angels, one of which dramatically expands the scope of creation. The first, more conventional idea is that angels are "a component part of the cosmic system," created alongside our material universe and having functions connected to it.
The second theory is far more staggering. It proposes that angels belong to a completely "higher order, supermundane or supernatural," constituting "another universe of being." Their connection to our world is secondary, a result of assigned duties rather than a shared origin. But the text adds a crucial layer to this idea: this angelic universe would be "intermediate in order and character between the infinite productive activity of God within His own being, and the external material production of our universe."
This is a profound vision of a multi-layered reality. It suggests that God’s creative acts are not monolithic, but are tailored to different orders of being—a purely internal divine life, an intermediate spiritual creation of angels, and an external material creation of our cosmos. The scope is breathtaking, presenting a universe far more vast and complex than a single material plane.

3. Not Perfect Yet: Angels Were Created in a State of Trial
Perhaps one of the most common modern assumptions is that angels are, and always have been, static, perfect beings. Bellord's text presents a far more dramatic reality. It explains that while angels were created in a state of supernatural grace, they were not created in their final state of perfection, known as the Beatific Vision (the ultimate state of seeing God directly in all His glory).
Instead, their initial existence was a "state of trial" that came with "possibilities of failure." This was a genuine probationary period where their ultimate fate was not yet sealed. The proof of this trial is central to the Christian story: it was a fallen angel who tempted Adam. This fact demonstrates that the trial was real and that some angels indeed failed it. This concept transforms angels from unchanging symbols into active participants in a cosmic moral drama, whose perfection had to be earned.
This last constitutes the state of reward and confirmation in grace, and is incompatible with the state of trial and its possibilities of failure.

4. An Infinite Reflection: Vast Numbers and Varieties of Angels
Why were angels created? According to the text, their primary purpose was "for the service of God, and for glory and happiness in His presence." To fulfill this purpose, they were not created as a monolithic group but in "vast numbers" with a "great variety of endowments and powers."
The reasoning behind this immense diversity is a beautiful theological concept. This variety was intended to "represent the divine attributes and glorify them." How can a finite creation reflect an infinite Creator? The text’s answer is through scale and diversity. God, it suggests, created a nearly infinite array of beings to "increase by multiplication the exhibition of His perfections." This paints a picture not just of a single mirror, but of a celestial hall of countless unique mirrors, each reflecting a different facet of divine light, their combined glory offering a more fitting tribute to an infinite source.

5. A Mirror to Ourselves: The Angelic State and the Human Condition
After exploring these abstract and cosmic ideas, the text makes a surprising turn, drawing a direct and personal parallel between the state of the angels and the spiritual condition of human beings. The author looks past the theological complexities and speaks directly to the reader, making the angelic trial a mirror for our own.
The book states this connection explicitly, grounding the celestial in the tangible:
You are in a similar state; you have grace and divine charity; you can enter into corporal union with Our Lord in the Holy Sacrament; the Church, to which you belong, is called in the Gospel “the Kingdom of Heaven.”
This is perhaps the most powerful insight. The author masterfully bridges the gap between abstract theology and lived experience, moving from the cosmic state of angels to the sacramental reality of communion, and finally to a direct, personal moral imperative. We, too, are created in a state of grace but also in a state of trial, with the potential for failure but also for achieving a glorious end. The text closes its chapter with a solemn warning that makes this parallel inescapable:
You have been made for this noble object. Take care not to fall short of it. Every negligence towards God is so much loss to yourself.

Conclusion: A Grander Cosmos
This brief journey into a forgotten 19th-century text reveals a vision of angels that is more mysterious, dynamic, and cosmically grand than our modern, simplified images often allow. It reminds us that behind our simple symbols can lie profound intellectual traditions that wrestle with the biggest questions of existence.


If even these celestial beings were created for a journey of trial and purpose, what does that suggest about the significance of our own?

Angels Don't Fly

Three Surprising Truths That Defy Space and Time.
When we think of angels, a familiar image often comes to mind: radiant, human-like beings with magnificent wings, soaring through the heavens. This picture, popularized by centuries of art and scripture, represents their divine role as God's messengers, ready to act with heavenly speed. We imagine them traveling from heaven to earth, traversing vast celestial distances in the blink of an eye.

But what if this familiar image is a beautiful placeholder for a reality far more profound? What if their movement and presence operate on a level that defies our fundamental understanding of space and time? Classic theological thought suggests that the reality of these beings is more complex, abstract, and fascinating than we typically imagine.

This article explores three profound ideas about the nature of angels drawn from classic spiritual reflection. These concepts challenge our material assumptions and invite us to consider a reality that operates beyond the physical laws we take for granted.
They Don't Move Through Space
The first challenging idea is that angels are not subject to the laws of space. While we picture them flying, they don’t actually "travel" from point A to point B or pass through the space in between. Their movement isn't a journey, but an instantaneous application of their will.

In reality the angels are not subject to the laws of space... They do not pass through intervening spaces, nor, strictly, do they pass from place to place. They become present here or there by acting or appearing in such a place or places.
To grasp this, consider how speed relates to immateriality in our own world. Sound is rapid. Light, electricity, and nerve impulses are vastly more so. Gravitation acts instantaneously—it has no travel time between two bodies. Following this logic, angels, being "much more immaterial" than even these forces, operate entirely outside the paradigm of travel. This "instantaneous promptitude" is presented not just as a fascinating metaphysical trait, but as a model for human spirituality—a call to act on the inspirations of grace with the same immediate resolve.

They Are Present in a Place, but Don't Occupy It

While an angel can be present in a specific, definite place—unlike God, whose presence is infinite and simultaneous everywhere—they do not occupy that place in a physical sense. They have no length, breadth, or thickness that can be measured. They are present in a location without taking up any space within it.

To understand this paradox, we can use the analogy of the human soul in the body. The soul is present in every part of the body, from head to toe, yet the soul itself has no measurable size or physical dimension. In the same way, an angel's presence is localized and definite, but it is not dimensional. They can be here rather than there, but their "hereness" is not defined by a physical footprint.

This idea directly challenges our materialist assumptions, suggesting a mode of being that is localized yet non-dimensional. It points to a reality where "being somewhere" doesn't require a body. In doing so, it offers a powerful parallel for our own inner lives: an invitation to cultivate a spiritual reality that coexists with—but is not defined by—our physical existence on the material plane.

They Are Immaterial, Yet They Can Influence the Material World
Despite their non-physical, non-dimensional nature, angels can exert significant and direct power over the material world. Their existence as immaterial spirits does not render them powerless spectators; on the contrary, they are described as potent agents in the physical realm.

Classic accounts provide dramatic examples of this power: an angel conveyed Habacuc from Judea to the lions’ den, another slew the first-born in Egypt, one destroyed the army of Sennacherib, and others scourged Heliodorus for intruding into the temple. Notably, this ability is not limited to benevolent beings; the source text points out that “Satan also transported Our Lord to the pinnacle of the temple.”

The theological significance of this is profound, illustrating how Providence often works through created agencies. These "mighty spirits" are not just messengers but active participants with duties "proportioned to their great powers." The fact that this influence can be wielded by both benevolent and malevolent forces reveals a deeper truth: this power is a function of a being's spiritual nature, not its moral alignment. They bridge the gap between the purely spiritual and the solidly material.

A Higher Reality

These three takeaways paint a picture of angelic beings that is far removed from the simple winged figures of popular imagination. They operate outside our familiar concepts of travel, spatial dimension, and the strict separation of the material and immaterial worlds. Their existence challenges us to think beyond our physical limitations and consider different planes of reality.

This reimagining of angelic nature isn't just a theological curiosity; it invites us to reconsider the very fabric of our own world. If these beings operate on such a different framework of existence, what does it suggest about the unseen forces and spiritual dimensions that might influence our own lives?