Call to Worship
“We’ve been summoned.”
Lucifer looked out among his legions of angels God the Father had assigned to him millenniums ago. Assigned to him with a purpose; a noble and magnificent purpose. A purpose esteemed above all other purposes in all the nations of the angels. Lucifer, the most beautiful angel, the most adorned, the most envied, the most loved, the most god-like angel in all the Father’s kingdom. Lucifer, so brilliant that from a distance it was hard to distinguish his glory from the Father’s, so beautiful all the angels knew he was created with a special purpose, a special mission, a special passion to fulfill for the glory of the Father. Lucifer walked upright and in dignity always. Every angel knew his significance.
Lucifer gazed over the expanse of the Father’s kingdom to the East. Thousands upon thousands of the angelic host mingled and fluttered about in conversation and testimony. Thousands more were resting quietly in reflection and in personal exhortation of their last mission of worship for the Father. Resting, yes, but angels never sleep. They are purely spiritual; each one created by the Father, each being unique in some astounding way that only the Great Creator could have imagined. Individual, yes, but unified by a single purpose by God, a single passion for their very existence, a passion given to them by the Father, a passion of incredible love and worship for the Father and for his glorification. A passion for worship of the Father even beyond that of the other nations of the angels.
“Beelzebub, call my captains to order and have them assemble the legions before me. Find Xaphan, Astarot, and Adramelech and bring them to me for council before we depart for our Father’s presence.”
“As you command, my prince.” Beelzebub was a prince himself, the commander of all the ranks, a five-star general in Lucifer’s hierarchy, a cunning and crafty leader among the angels of worship, shrewd and powerful, confident and demanding. His commanding stature preceded him wherever he went. It was no wonder he had risen from the ranks of his creation to become second in the legions; second only to Lucifer, the first prince of all the angels and master of the highest function in all the Father’s creation. Lucifer, God’s shining star. Lucifer, the master of worship.
Whilst the legions assembled before him, Lucifer turned to gaze at the center of the kingdom. Far away he could see the glow of purity that was never extinguished, never faded, never dulled. A glow that touched Lucifer even here, so far from the Father’s spiritual presence. Even Lucifer was comforted by the light. It was always there, just as true and gleaming as life itself; just as real and everlasting as his own breath. To know his own existence, his own immortality, his own awareness and power and creativity was born in that flash of the Almighty was an overwhelming and daunting reality of his place in the kingdom. God created him to be magnificent, to be a great prince, to lead thousands upon thousands of the angels in worship. God’s glory was his responsibility, his passion, and even his own glory. Yes, He was glorified in glorifying the Father. He is Lucifer, the angel above all others. The one who sits next to the throne of glory. The one who orchestrates all the glory and all the worship of the Great Father.
“There are none above me. I am Lucifer,” he whispered quietly towards the presence of God as he turned back to his army and admired the depth and breadth of his commission. “How, I love it so.” Lucifer paused in his own reflection, “I do. I do love it so.”