It’s the feast of St. Michael the Archangel. Here he is on my sideboard, busily smiting Lucifer. Hero overcoming evil? Or just a boy rough-housing with his brother?
Would God really want someone fighting His battles for Him? Or did She cover up Her indulgent smile with a fakey-stern, “Boys, play nice. DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE!”
We get to decide, each for ourselves. Ain’t it cool? 🙂
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‘smite’ – and it’s companion tense, ‘smote’ – are a couple of those lyrical biblical words that I love. 🙂