Those were not Gerber babies that sang around the manger the holy night Christ was born; those were mighty, warring heavenly beings singing in awe of the sacrifice of the great King.
Just once some Christmas I would like to see a real angel show up on top of the tree just as I plugged in the light—bam!—nuclear glory radiating, instantly frying the Christmas tree into a skeleton of smoldering sticks; everyone in the family slain spiritually, unable to move for hours under the weight of the angelic presence. A true "touched by an angel" episode and a Christmas to remember!—Francis Frangipane
Idle musings by a once again bookseller, always bibliophile, current copyeditor and proofreader. Complete with ramblings about biblical studies, the ancient Near East, bicycling, gardening, or anything else I am reading (or experiencing). All more or less live from Red Wing, MN
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Quote for today
In a book I was reading over the weekend, the author made a comment about our conception of angels, especially the Valentine's day type. You know which ones I'm talking about; they have the little wings and diapers on. I thought his critique of the "Gerber baby" angels was too priceless not to post...
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