Many of this journal’s readers likely grew up saying the poetic prayer, “Angel of God, my guardian dear.” And not a few Catholic homes likely had some version of early 20th century German artist Fridolin Leiber’s prints of Schutzengel — the “guardian angel” — usually supporting two children in some perilous situation like a rickety bridge over a rushing brook. I mention those prayers and paintings not because I disapprove of them — I absolutely do not! — but because I fear they may leave the impression that, somehow, devotion to one’s guardian angel is childish. (See here.) On the contrary, “Unless you become like little children…”

The consigning of belief in angels to children is compounded by the eclipse of angels as topics for Catholic preaching. Perversely, this fact may be partially due to priests not wanting to talk about devils, i.e., angels who have rejected God. A certain kind of sterile “theology” tries to write off angels and devils as “symbols” rather than persons. It is a most charitable comment to call such foolishness incredible naivete.

True moral evil does not function on auto-pilot, some “impersonal evil.” Good and evil are acts, and only persons — not ideas — act. Ideas may influence us, perhaps even thereby limit our responsibility, but true good or evil are never something apart from one’s will: “the devil made me do it” is an excuse, originally invoked by Eve to blame the serpent after Adam tried to slough off on her responsibility for his deeds.

To the adult Catholic, what can I say about guardian angels? Let’s take a moment to look at the backdrop against which our lives are lived. For St. Paul and for much of Christian history, in that backdrop was seen the working out of conflict, of spiritual battle launched in Eden and ending at the eschaton. Spiritual battle has been the leitmotif of the Christian message from the start. The drama of salvation is played out in everyman’s life and only the simple might imagine it is uncontested. It is a cosmic struggle in which we may be but foot soldiers — but the lives of foot soldiers matter, too (and should — at least to the foot soldiers)! “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph 6:12).

Against the image of the battle for salvation also stands another: the “cloud of witnesses” surrounding us (Heb 12:1) who, having won their crowns, urge us on to “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.” This cloud is nothing less than the “communion of saints” in which we Catholics every Sunday (and nominally many Protestants) affirm belief. As Vatican II reminds us, salvation is not a solo sport because God has chosen a People. Neither, however, is the working out of our salvation an unfair battle between “power of darkness” and little old us. We, of course, are armed and sustained by God’s grace, should we genuinely want it. We are not spiritual gladiators sent into the arena alone against a pride of hungry spiritual lions (1 Pt 5:8). God was into accompaniment — an accompaniment rooted in and leading to truth and moral rectitude — long before it became a buzzword. God’s accompaniment includes our guardian angel.

Our guardian angel is not some overgrown saccharine figure who steadies the rickety bridge so Hansel and Gretel can safely traverse it. Our guardian angel is our spiritual coach, mentor, and tag-team player who knows who and what we are up against because he was present when those who’s chose evil, chose the pride that made them into hungry spiritual lions “looking for someone to devour.” God does not just give us saints cheering on from the heavenly bleachers; He gives us a companion on life’s journey.

Which therefore should make us consider the nobility of that gift. For the spiritually and physically lonely, realize that God has given you a person — a spiritual person — to walk with you through life and point you where you need to go. That angelic person, out of love of God, is more on your side than even you might be. So, as you go through life, you can ask yourself: Is the life I am living worthy of the gift I have been given? Is the angelic person to whom I am “entrusted here” proud of his charge? If, at this moment, I could face-to-face talk to my guardian angel and hear his reply, what would be the character of that conversation?