Prologue
“How does one appeal a decision to the Supreme Court?” Phil asked Azza his angel-lawyer.
“It’s a complicated procedure,” was the answer.
They were sitting outside Phil’s efficiency apartment at a round patio table. The noon November sun warmed them so long as no clouds blocked its waning light.
On the table their case against the government filled two banker boxes, and Azza leafed through one binder looking for his lead argument. Azza was a unique angel in that he spent ages suspended between heaven and earth -- a form of Time-Out for bad behavior -- before Phil freed him. Unlike other angels, who were uniformly susceptible to becoming trapped in the Flesh, Azza was immune to the amnesia-producing effects of a corporeal existence. Today he was dressed a bit more informally than his usual pin-striped suit. He wore dark slacks and a knit shirt.
The case took some twists to get to where it was at this point. Phil's case was dismissed in the first instance, but Azza filed suit against the government for the arrest. That reopened the case, and it was added to the suit. If Phil lost the suit in the Supreme Court, the original case could be prosecuted.
“The case against you rests on centuries of precedent,” Azza said. “In Greece and later Rome, government was rooted in the polis -- the family group united with other families for self-governance.”
Phil nodded and sipped the lemonade he prepared for this conference. He was dressed in jeans and blue sweatshirt.
Azza went on, “Roman law, though, could not derive from an amalgam of poleis. Therefore, it devolved to the idea that the emperor embodied the law -- it got that idea from Egypt. However, when local self-governance broke down, both sides in any dispute could appeal their case to Rome.”
“Not very efficient.”
“They eventually got around to codifying the law, but tensions remained, especially on how to deal with alien residents.”
“Like the Jews of the Diaspora.”
“Especially them, because Hebrew law was not grounded in the polis. It was grounded in the unpatriotic idea that Jews were God’s people. Then Christians came along to add to the trouble. Paul’s many letters tried to harmonize society, but you know what happened to him.”
Phil nodded again in recognition of the tension this must have caused. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, but his penetrating brown eyes held the angel. Phil countered, “How is this relevant to our case?”
“Government is like any commodity. It sells itself as the best deal available. Over the last two millennia, at least in the West, the continuum was -- or is -- between the self-governing polis and the all-governing Law. Between Greek philosophy and Jewish obedience. Let alone Christians proclaiming the kingdom of God was here and now.”
Phil nodded again as he began to intuit what Azza’s strategy might be.
Azza continued, “The evolution of law parallels the evolution of morals. For Greeks, natural law was the ideal, but they defined it in opposition to Eros. For Jews, God’s law was supreme, and it placed obedience in opposition to inner wisdom. What both were excavating towards was Divine Law written into every human heart -- the here and now kingdom of God.”
“We’re a long way from reaching that goal,” Phil observed with a smile.
“We are -- or rather you are. Humans, every generation, must escape the consensus trance before they can take up the excavation project and find that inner Truth.”
“And now we’re here -- wherever that is. What can we do with it?”
“Quite a bit, I think. We know the government is our hired servant. It exists at our pleasure.”
“Not so fast," Phil interrupted. "We also know the fascist movement prompted us to transfer our religious feelings to the state. Many still think of the state in those terms.”
“Yes,” Azza allowed. “It’s polarized that way. Evangelicals continue to proclaim that to oppose their guy is to oppose God. Even so, we must take advantage of the polarization and trigger the moral sentiments of freedom in the justices. We do that and we win.”
Then the detail work began. They reviewed the case against Phil, which had to do with the special powers government granted itself under the Patriot Act. Phil had been arrested, charged, and convicted in one of the secret courts. When he got his day in court, the judge threw the case out. Rather than fighting that conflict, Azza counter-sued and won. The government appealed. The appellate court ruled Phil’s civil liberties had been violated but those violations were appropriate given the circumstances of war. Phil and Azza set about now to undermine the ruling and appeal the decision to the highest court.
Because Phil’s background included working in an insurance company for decades, he was not intimidated by the amount of detail they would be processing.
By late afternoon the appeal was taking shape, and Azza left. Sheila, his demon housekeeper, poked her head out the door and asked if he was ready for dinner. Phil realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and smiled an affirmation to her.
She brought him a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes and sat next to him. The sun was far enough gone that its rays didn’t cause her any discomfort.
Sheila, an arch-demon, looked like a spindly old woman. Dressed in a black dress, her gray hair refused to look neat.
As Phil dug into his dinner, she said, “Your angel is coming.”
“Manuel?”
“Who else?”
“What’s happening in that world?”
“I don’t know for sure, but the dark forces are nervous.”
Being a demon, Sheila was locked into the demon group mind. Demons, as a rule, operated off the simple imperative of drawing humans back to the Flesh, but they also guarded sacred spaces. As such, they received loose direction from dark angels: Sammael, Beelzebub, and Azazel, to name the obvious ones. And these angels were Phil’s perennial enemies. Even so, the four sisters that manufactured demons were Phil's allies, and Sheila was one of their progeny.
The Archangel Manuel walked up from the alley behind Phil’s apartment. Accompanying him was the messenger god, Hermes. Manuel was a tall blond perfection of a man in white pants and short-sleeve blue shirt. Hermes, dark curls framing a mischievous face, wore cut-off jeans and a dark sweatshirt.
Phil called to them, “What brings you two from Mount Olympus?”
“An ancient prophecy is about to be fulfilled,” Hermes smiled. “It’s got everybody a-twitter.”
Phil turned to Manuel for an explanation.
“They think it’s a direct result of your activities.”
Which seemed to Phil more an accusation than an explanation. He rolled his eyes and asked, “Could you begin at the beginning?”
Hermes sat next to Azza and poured himself some lemonade before answering, “It was foretold long ago that Metis would bear a son more powerful than Zeus. So the story goes, Zeus swallowed her whole. While inside Zeus, Metis gave birth to Athena, and she came out through Zeus’ forehead. The son of Metis, though, was never born.”
“Until now,” Manuel added. “Zeus is in a coma, and Hephaestus is fashioning an axe so Hermes can cut Zeus open when it’s time to free Metis’ son.”
Phil wasn’t up on all the intricacies of Greek mythology, but he knew enough to follow the import of the story. Metis was an Oceanid, a Titan goddess who was not only an equal to Zeus but also his first wife. Since Greek philosophy underpinned current Western thought, Greek mythology remained alive in the archetypal realm. In other words, this pantheon had not been relegated to the state of retired masks of God. They still played a role in human affairs -- albeit, a psychological role, and that role only appreciated by Carl Jung, other depth psychologists,+1 907-230-5492 and their schools of psychology.
“Okay,” Phil sighed. “Metis is having her long overdue baby. So what?”
“So,” Hermes snickered, “it’s your fault.”
Phil shook his head in disgust. For even though he had been the scapegoat often enough, the new forms it seemed to take were bizarre.
Manuel added, “They had to blame somebody. A son of Metis, whose attributes include wisdom and magical cunning, would definitely upset the balance.”
“What do they want me to do?” Phil asked in tired resignation to his weird fate.
“Foster the child.”
