A prophet from South West Africa stands to my right upon the land beneath Michael’s calf.
He stares at the river in stark concentration, working to connect and engage the heavenly courts.
A principality stands behind him. 8 feet tall, thin, sharp face twisted in hatred. The principality wears an outfit reminiscent of a sixties gangster, complete with white rimmed fedora on its head.
The four Cherubim that protect this land turn inwards to keep an eye on it.
I watch silently as the principality nervously glances at the most dangerous of foes yet stubbornly keeps its feet planted firmly behind the prophet.
I don’t like this.
Principalities have no place upon this land.
Me:
“Gatherer.”
Gatherer immediately appears to my left and speaks.
Gatherer:
“The prophet moves in ecclesiastical authority, and every spirit around the prophet is subject to the prophet. This principality is upon this land because one of your seven seat holders brought the prophet here thus making it legal for both angel and demon to accompany him.”
Me:
“Am I not the principality of this land, do I not hold authority here?”
Gatherer:
“You are Courier, nothing more. Authority is held within your seven seats. If a seat holder opens a door, the principality has legal right.”
Me:
“What principality is this that follows this prophet so stubbornly?”
Principality:
“You may speak to me directly Courier, you need not ignore a presence as commanding as mine.”
I look at the principality but speak to Gatherer:
“I have no desire to commune with this demon. It oozes condescension and I struggle to love a being that works so to vex me.”
The principality looks at me with utter contempt, hatred forcing its eyes into small beads of concentrated wrath.
Gatherer:
“You do well to love all of creation as the Lord Jesus Christ commands son of sorrow. Even as wretched and broken a spirit as this. You must speak to it yourself and not fail the test before you. Continue in love knowing that the principality was created by our Father and loved still by the same. It is one of the third that was led astray by the great liar. But all that was made was made in love and the Father cannot retract His love from even this most hateful thing. Indeed, His love rains down upon both righteous and unrighteous with equal fervor. For God is love and He cannot be separated from what He is.”
I take a deep breath, inwardly practicing my verbal and emotional responses to condescension and resolve to love the being and cover the sin.
Me:
“I greet you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and ask why you insist on being upon land where you bend rules that are not yours to bend?”
The principality begins to curse me with foul language and manifests a temper that would rip the life from me if it was allowed. It threatens me with sexual humiliation and violation. It works so hard to intimidate me that the ludicrous nature of it all causes me to snort and uncontrollable giggle.”
The snort pulls the principality up short and it immediately calms down.
Principality:
“You laugh at me? You? You are nothing but (expletive) trailer trash living on land that will be never (expletive) be yours.”
Me:
“I did not mean to humiliate you demon. Quite the contrary, I feel genuinely sorry for your eternal plight and this horrible role you have chosen for yourself. But you have no place here and your intimidation does nothing but cause me to want you gone all the more.”
It suddenly draws itself up like a teenage child and purses its lips in a show of determination.
Principality: (nods towards the prophet)
“Where he goes, I go.”
Me:
“What is your assignment to this prophet?”
Principality:
“To starve him of love. To stoke his contempt for the body of Christ so that he may regard love as weakness and pass judgement upon the very source of his own assignment.”
Me:
“Why? How does this assignment benefit your master and how do you have the authority to cross national and provincial borders?”
Principality:
“The prophet is well practiced in entry to the spiritual realm and goes to and fro upon this earth in a realm that does not have borders. I was once his authority but I now travel under his authority for he pushes love away without my help and regards the world through the eyes of continuous judgement. I am here under his authority.”
Me:
“But you are not here by his command.”
Principality:
“I move where my charge moves.”
Me:
“So you bottleneck love and keep this prophet isolated emotionally?”
Principality:
“As I afflicted Saul, so I work to afflict the prophet.”
I turn to Gatherer:
“Who is this prophet that so highly skilled and highly ranked a principality would risk so much to stay near him?”
Gatherer:
“The prophet is one of only 33 legal spiritual advocates upon this earth. This principality works to keep him isolated from the greater body so that his time in the courtroom is kept busy with distractions. All 33 are assigned to tear down the argument for poverty in the throne room but principalities of this level are assigned to close their hearts and minds to such levels of compassion.
Know this son of sorrow: These advocates are trained directly by the great advocate who is the word who is the Son and creator. They need never speak to a human or open the word, and their revelation is greater than even that of the elite. But they are vexed greatly by principalities and most take their own lives in anxiety and hopeless frustration. Already this advocate has lasted longer than all 32 of the previous advocates in his generation, but this the war of attrition takes its toll.”
Me:
“How can I help?”
Gatherer:
“You cannot. You are not yet of sufficient rank.
Nor are you of sufficient revelation. You are not an advocate, you are a courier, nothing more. Neither should you be engaging in court battles where you make yourself known as courier to all present.
Make this principality known to the advocate, and he and his friend who is your friend shall deal with it. Your friend is as Jeremiah, both prophet and builder and is a great friend to the advocate. He is filled with genuine love and will stand with him as you cannot.
Do not embroil yourself in this lest you be whipped and humiliated as the sons of Sceva.
Your banner is love and this principality specializes in a war of attrition against love. If you attempt this fight you will surely die. Be courier, simply relay what is necessary to the body and those with authority shall deal with principalities as these.”
The principality now oozes hatred and frustration as it tries to stare me down using its size as a weapon of intimidation. I don’t feel intimidated, I only feel compassion that a being would choose so nefarious and self-destructive an existence.
It senses my compassion and is taken aback.
Principality:
“You certainly are a peculiar fellow courier. A charismatic personality that somehow defies its own impulse to be more right than righteous. We must have broken you completely! How is it that you still live?”
Me:
“I don’t. I am dead.
Two years and one month past my sell date to be precise.”
Principality:
“You’re the one who fended off suicide for ten years? (expletive)!
How the (expletive) are you still able to function psychologically? We threw every depressive and tormenting device at you!”
Me:
“I don’t function very well at all. I am isolated from all but those qualified to be around me and even those I am only allowed to spend a tithe of my day with. Without these seven hours of prayer each day I would fall apart. Your campaign was successful in its goals to destroy me but you have inadvertently gifted the kingdom with a courier who is happy to do nothing but submit. It is through my perpetual sorrow at the state of mankind and my complete broken instability that I am able to have compassion for even such as you. For I see how broken you are demon and I see how you work to frustrate this prophet so that you may eat the scraps of approval that your master tosses to you from time to time.
I sense the regret on you but I also sense the iron will of a fallen angel that will not change its mind, even in the throes of eternal fire.
I know that you were once great and beautiful, that you walked among the archangels as servant and friend. And now you are chained to the great liar who manipulated you and twisted your heart. Your hatred is for your master, yourself and for all of creation. You have rebelled against God and in so doing you have rebelled against love itself. And now your existence is a painful perpetual train wreck that metes out eternal collateral damage. I am sorry that this happened to you.”
The demon moves to speak but I weep uncontrollable tears of compassion for it. There is no hope for so iron willed a being and it breaks my heart.
The demon sneers at me in an uncomfortable show of attempted contempt but I can see something different about it. I move to speak but Gatherer interrupts me.
Gatherer:
“Love is the highest of all authority son of sorrow. Against love there is no spiritual or natural law. This principality is now outranked by the compassion within you. But entertain it no further lest it use your heart to cause you believe it capable of change. This is a master manipulator and only those with the highest authority can cast it out.
See how it shows contempt for the sower? See how it shows contempt for the builder? See how it shows contempt for the advocate? I tell you this:
These principalities are skilled at setting up almost impregnable arguments against the knowledge of God and only through exact fitting of the armor of God can they be removed so that the argument can be torn down.
Make this encounter known to all so that they may learn of what is in the spiritual realm but send it to the builder. He and the advocate will know what to do.
They must confront this principality here under Michael’s calf where the four Cherubim keep guard.
Do not get involved son of sorrow, you are not of sufficient rank.
When the advocate has resisted this principality, his authority shall increase and a burden for the poor shall come upon him. He will immediately clear the way for your next assignment.
The kingdom is all son of sorrow and ours is a kingdom of love!”
Me:
“The kingdom is all!”
I wake up.