Surprise and wonder must have filled Mary’s mind and heart—and perhaps fear, for who would not have felt fear at this sudden apparition, this brilliantly white person, this unearthly voice. Yet there must have been also an instinctual sense of awe and reverence, a deep, dawning, and indisputable awareness of the holiness of this personage, a growing glimpse in her heart that this man, this presence, carried with him all that is good and godly, gifts and grace from heaven itself.
His name was Gabriel. He was a messenger from God, an angel of light, sent to announce the wondrous news of an infinite and eternal redemption from sin and death. To the virgin before him—perhaps frightened, perhaps humbled, perhaps sensing the holiness of the moment—he declared the startling news that she, Mary, would give birth to a child, but not just a child: “the Son of the Highest,” said Gabriel. “And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end” (Luke 1:32, 33).
In response to this earthshaking revelation, Mary simply asked, “How shall this be?” (Luke 1:34). Gabriel must have rejoiced to find a heart that did not dispute or doubt or debate, but that simply sought clarification. And when the explanation was given, with deep faith, submission, and complete trust in Gabriel’s words, Mary said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38).
It was a brief interview. An introduction was made, a message delivered, a question asked, an explanation given, and a sublime declaration of ultimate faith expressed. Yet how momentous that conversation was for Mary, for Gabriel, for the entire world.
The story of Christmas is the story of angels. From Gabriel’s messages to Mary and Zacharias to the angelic instruction to Joseph to the declaration to the shepherds to the heavenly choir that filled Bethlehem’s night with praises to God.
But the angelic work began long before Bethlehem, or even Nazareth. It began at least several thousand years earlier when an angel declared the tidings of redemption to Adam, who had only recently been expelled from the garden (see Moses 5:4-9). It continued on through the centuries as angels delivered messages of salvation to prophet after prophet. In one such visit, Gabriel announced the future coming of the Messiah to the Old Testament prophet Daniel (Daniel 9:21-27). In another, an angel awakened the Book of Mormon prophet and king Benjamin and said, “I am come to declare unto you the glad tidings of great joy. . . . For behold, the time cometh, and is not far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who was, and is from all eternity to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, and shall dwell in a tabernacle of clay” (Mosiah 3:3, 5).
Agony in the Garden by Frans Schwartz, in Sacred Gifts at the BYU Museum of Art. |
Then, in a garden called Gethsemane, the Babe, now grown, fell to the earth in agony and prayer. The Son of God, He who had power over death itself, He who had lived the only pure life in history, felt the crushing burden of sin. “And,” Luke records, “there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:43). To the Savior of the World, the angel of Gethsemane brought solace, support, and strength.
Angels do the work of God. As exemplified in the Christmas story, their work is to testify, as did Gabriel. Their work is also to minister, as did the angel in Gethsemane.
To testify and to minister—this is the work of angels. “Have angels ceased to appear unto the children of men? Or has [God] withheld the power of the Holy Ghost from them? Or will he, so long as time shall last, or the earth shall stand, or there shall be one man upon the face thereof to be saved? Behold I say unto you, Nay” (Moro. 7:36–37).
The work of angels continues today. Ofttimes, that work continues through us. Wouldn’t you have loved to have been one of the angels in the heavenly host? What a privilege it would have been to stand in Gabriel's place and to make the announcement to Mary. And with what humility and love you would have approached the angelic assignment to minister in Gethsemane. We may not have been those angels, but we can be those angels. We can sing praises that will rise to heaven and join with those of the angelic choir. We can testify of the Savior’s divine birth and holy redemption. We can minister and strengthen and love and comfort. We can do the work of angels.
As was said by Him who is the subject of angelic messages and the source of angelic love, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40).