The Annoying Effects of the Hierarchy of Angels

There is a simple explanation for all ills. Really, it is so simple that it is a wonder we haven’t thought about it already. It’s so obvious. There is indeed a perfect explanation why our bureaucracies are so dysfunctional as they are. Why we never get anything done. Why corruption is endemic and the divide between good intentions and disastrous achievements so stark. There is a simple cause for all the havoc we face and why we will never be able to get anything done properly. The explanation is this.

We humans learn by imitation. By imitation and repetition. So there must be some model, some archetype that precedes – not necessarily in time but in logic – our understanding of how to organize an administration or an office. And it is funny to see how Plato in his Allegory of the Cave (The Republic, 514a – 520a) got it right and wrong at the same time. The ideal muster, he claims – well, sort of “claims” – is in the heavenly sphere, it is ideal, perfect, timeless; but humans only grasp the shadowy image of the perfect, the ideal, and go with that all along. Perfection lies with the Gods; the imperfect is the definition of the human sphere (the sphere beyond the moon, to be exact). Now, Plato got it wrong. Really. I mean, he got it right and wrong. Right he is to claim that the model, the paradigm is situated out of time in the celestial spheres; wrong he goes when he thinks that the imperfect, the rotten, the decay is a feature of the human world and confined to it. No, the story is much different.

We learn to build administrations and bureaucracies by unwittingly copying those of the celestial spheres. To understand this, just imagine what happens on a daily basis at the reincarnation sluices: Day in day out angels operate the gates to escort and pass through young souls to their destined places on earth. But how often does it happen that a delivery is misplaced. A tiny little black baby ends up in Eskimo country, a white boy ends up somewhere in Asia, a soul supposed to be a girl ends up as a boy and vice versa, one soul destined for this family ends up over there, whole packages of little friendly thoughts – that’s what we humans are prior to entering a body – arrive totally misplaced at the wrong families, times, fates. Never wondered why some people get a Caribbean incarnation, with fun at the beach and drinks with cocktail umbrella while others work backbreaking shifts deep down in the mine? Never had the feeling you were in the wrong family? That you had been swapped at birth? Nonsense! You were not swapped at the hospital but much earlier! You were simply escorted to the wrong sluice gate with the wrong destination. That’s it. Simply that.

The lower angels at the sluice gates, well, they do their jobs, don’t they? And like all hard-boiled workers they love harsh jokes. They laugh out loud when a tiny soul again is heading in the wrong direction and lands at a place where it surely awaits nothing but trouble. They snort with laughter, pat on their legs, wipe away a tear or two, get the next soul on track, fetch a drink of heavenly mead or a snack of ambrosia all the while they are shaking their diaphanous heads as the etheric light bulb announces the next disaster to play out on this planet. 

And don’t you think it is only human souls the delivery of which so often goes astray. How do you think all the so-called invasive species end up where they definitely do not belong? Via ships and airplanes? Gee, how many of them would you need to get a whole continent conquered in a reasonable amount of time? No! Just get rid of the idea that it is only human souls that are incarnated. In fact, the angelical lock-keepers not only have to pass through billions of human souls, but all the little bumble bees, the flowers, the fishes, the ants, the fleas and midgets as well. Do you really believe they grow out of nothing or out of their own? That is a belief once Galen held in the second century AD, but since then we’ve made some progress. Nope, they are transported like all the other souls. Now can you imagine what incredible amount of soul passengers those angels have to escort to and pass through the reincarnation sluices? Not only billions, but trillions and more. And you only ask how many angels take place on a needle point?

So the poor angels often get things wrong. The celestial hierarchies are as rotten, undersupplied, decrepit as our earthly ones. The main difference is: the angels take it with humour, the humans don’t. So, be assured that the celestial spheres are full of laughter and spluttering whereas the human ones are full of grim faces, anger, and complaints. But the idea should be clear by now. Our hierarchies are exact copies of the celestial ones. We can only make the mistakes we do because they have already been made in the heavenly spheres. Perfection is for the Gods, and humans are no gods. But angels are no gods either, and that is often overlooked. 

So how did Plato get it so wrong? Why does he sound like a Protestant? Could it be that the model-image-relation of heaven and earth repeats itself on earth as well? And Plato became the model the Protestants were to become the copying image of? Oh dear, sounds like fractal geometry, copies inside copies, functions on functions, some weird lambda calculus …. but even that some nutty angel must have thought already. Which leads us to the important question of how ideas especially whacky ones get incarnated. How do angels get them into our heads? Perhaps ideas are just that: angels visiting us, on vacation so to speak. Ideas are angels on vacation. 

Just imagine you’re hard working, diaphanous angel with just that little amount of time off from your celestial workplace. Where would you spend your holidays, especially with wife and kids, camping bag and sun hat? You would do a nice site-seeing trip with your relatives down here on this dowdy little planet that you use to mess around with from above. A field trip, so to speak. And as you go with wife, kids, stuff and all, the poor lads and lassies down here get totally confused with all the ideas that somehow, randomly, start to spin around in their heads. Angels. On holidays. But seriously: Where else could they spend their hard earned vacation if not in some nutty head of a human soul deranged by reincarnation misplacement, still suffering from karmic jet lag? They call it a nice clean fun, we call it creativity. Or mania. Or worse. (Never asked why we call our mental hospitals “asylums” or where “lunacy” comes from? Lunacy! The word already hints to the spheres above the moon!) No artist loves being creative, because it’s a mess being constantly messed around with, bombarded by armies of ideas (as they never ever enter alone but only in hordes). Angels – a busload of bawling, rowdy, disrespectful tourists! No wonder they can’t get their transport system in order. Some good Prussian discipline would help. Or the Navy Seals. We should perfect their delivery system. If I could only figure out a way to contact them. Channeling won’t do as it is a one-way, top-down form of communication used only by boring educator beings with compulsive disorder, in envy of the Burning Bush and Moses, trying to intimidate receptive souls. But if I depicted a perfect hierarchy of angels, wouldn’t that presuppose that some angel must already have thought it, thus having it already brought about and into existence? I would just have to sit silently and repeat this thought again and again, never mind the nice gentlemen putting me into this nice white coat with its very nice long sleeves. Hmm. I just have to think it a bit more concisely, harder, and then ….. 

Well, we are not to blame. It’s not our fault. It’s the angels’. They don’t get it right. But if you consider the poor angelic lad at the sluice gate – how can it be his fault either? Isn’t he supposed to rely on his co-angels and superiors up in the hierarchy? But even the archangels will promptly defer responsibility to the CEO. And here we face an age-old dilemma. If the CEO knows everything and can act accordingly, then how can he allow this dysfunction to happen? But if information and oversight decreases the higher the hierarchy (as the phenomenon of hierarchical incompetence suggests), then the CEO won’t know everything and cannot act accordingly. That means that the CEO either knows everything but cannot or doesn’t want to act or he doesn’t know everything and accordingly will make the wrong decisions. (Both fly into the face of classical Christian theology, of course.) If we add to this the Peter Principle according to which in a hierarchy subordinates are promoted only so far as to the point of their incompetence, then the negative impacts of the CEO‘s decisions – be they good or bad – increase as they trickle down the hierarchy via his incompetent subordinates. The upshot is that the delivery of souls to the wrong destination is thus a necessary effect of having a celestial hierarchy at all. Now don’t you wonder or complain anymore – your confusion and exasperation turn out to be a necessary condition for there to be a celestial hierarchy at all! (As it is for the sake of every city administration on earth as well.) You are important, after all. You hoped for that but didn’t really believe in it, did you?   

 

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