I have supplemented my imagining of Lucifer’s fall with a similar interpretation of Isaiah 14:12–14, wherein the “son of the morning” states his intention to ascend to heaven with five famous “I wills.” Again, this is a widely known but not universally held understanding of this passage, which on the surface laments the prophetic fall of the pagan king of Babylon, a contemporary of the prophet.
In the ancient Near East, cherubs were depicted as beings with an animal body (usually a lion or bull), wings, and a human head. Large cherub statues often guarded the gates of ancient pagan temples. Biblically speaking, cherubs may be found guarding the gates of Eden (Genesis 3:24) adorning the lid of the ark of the covenant as golden statues (Exodus 25:17–22) and holding up God’s throne (Ezekiel 1:4–28; 10:1–22).
I’ve only referenced cherubim, seraphim, and angels (including archangels) in this story, but the Bible notes other significant rankings of spiritual forces: thrones (Colossians 1:16), dominions (Ephesians 1:21; Colossians 1:16), principalities (Ephesians 1:21; 3:16; 6:12; Colossians 1:16) and powers (Ephesians 1:21; 3:10; 6:12; Colossians 1:16). The only authority over the upper (cherubic) rank is Elohim; even the well-known archangel Michael must employ God’s authority against Lucifer as in Jude 9.
I have assumed that the rock garden in Eden of Ezekiel 28:13 where Lucifer resided before his rebellion physically preexisted the Eden of Genesis and that it was the (unspoiled) earth mentioned in Genesis 1:1. For the sake of story, I’ve theorized a chaotic ruin of Lucifer’s first garden in Eden before the formless and dark Eden of Genesis 1:2.
Ezekiel says the object of his lament dwelled in “the holy mount of God” (Ezekiel 28:14, 16). The exact phrase, “the holy mount of God” occurs nowhere else in Scripture though Jerusalem is sometimes called “the holy mount” where God dwells in His temple (Psalm 99:9; Isaiah 56:7). For this telling, I have imagined God’s heavenly dwelling as a spectacular spiritual mountain—that is to say, something both and either physical and figurative simply because I cannot think that our concrete world would rely on the same physical laws and logic as one inhabited by spiritual beings in a perfect Eden before even the creation of the sun or moon. Other references to a mountain of God indicating government are: Isaiah 2:2 and Daniel 2:34–35, 44–45.
The Bible distinguishes between angels fallen and unfallen/elect (1 Timothy 5:21), and is specific about the judgment and fate of the lost (2 Peter 2:4; Jude 6). Therefore, I have based Lucian’s odium on the fact that the Bible makes no mention of a messianic provision for fallen angels, no matter how they curiously long to look into the mysteries of salvation (1 Peter 1:12).
Lucifer derives his name from several sources. In Isaiah 14:12 the Hebrew is helel, meaning “shining” (in the way of celestial bodies)—hence, the interpretation “son of the morning,” or “morning star.” As the morning star (Venus) is considered the brightest of “stars”—and some hold that God referred to angels in Job 38:7 as “stars”—Lucifer was to have been the brightest of all creation. Throughout the New Testament angels are referred to as shining beings (Matthew 28:2–3; Revelation 10:1), and Lucifer is said to pass himself off as an angel of light. Satan is associated with Lucifer as having fallen like lightning from heaven (Luke 10:18, as associated with Ezekiel 28:17), and having fallen because of his pride (1 Timothy 3:6, as associated with Isaiah 14).
The name Satan, at its most basic, denoted an adversary or enemy of human or spiritual origin. In the lives of Job and Joshua, Lucifer embodied the role of antagonistic accuser and adversary of the faithful. Throughout the Bible Satan is given many other names including God of This Age (2 Corinthians 4:4), Prince of the Power of the Air (Ephesians 2:2), and Prince of This World (Matthew 4:8; Luke 4:5–7; John 14:30).
Lucian’s human guises are based on the abundance of angels that appear as humans throughout the Bible. The book of Job indicates that Satan has the power to inflict sickness (Job 2:7), control elements (Job 1:16–19), and inflict discouragement, doubt and disappointment (Job 3:1–10; 7:11; 10:1–18). Job is explicit that Satan has no power to harm those protected by God. Ephesians 6:10–18 indicates that children of God possess the means to withstand Satanic attack.
I need to cite my great reliance on H. LaVern Schafer’s work, Satan: The Enemy Without (Schafer, 1996) in addition to the usual commentaries and indexes, as well as books such as Billy Graham’s Angels.
Last, I should say that despite my research I have never come to the point that I feel I completely understand the implications of God’s relationship with spiritual beings or the nuances of passages like the ones found in Ezekiel and Isaiah. I chose the interpretations I did for the sense they make to me and also for their storytelling merit. I encourage you to pass my views and these notes through the sieve of your own discernment and to use them as a springboard for your own investigation.
WHY I WROTE DEMON: A MEMOIR
One day, as I drove the stretch of Nebraska road that leads to my acreage, I found myself wondering what it would be like to be angelic and fallen. Would I go around tempting people to lust, covet, envy . . . just for kicks? It seemed too shallow a motivation for any complex, spiritual creature. There had to be more to it.
Suddenly, I realized that being angelic and fallen was similar to being human and fallen—except for one major difference: the provision of a Messiah.
I immediately wondered what it must feel like to be unquestionably damned—and worse, to watch humans luxuriate in and take for granted the grace made available to them from a doting God. And I thought: Why wouldn’t an angelic creation resent a human recipient of God’s grace? And why wouldn’t a demon want to prove that creature unworthy again and again as a result? Now I knew what it must feel like to be an angelic outsider looking in with jealous eyes and razored heart.
And so let me ask you: What if you made one mistake?
One.
What if one moment you were worshipping the Mighty God and Creator that brought you into existence . . . and the next you were damned for eternity?
You had never seen sin, you had no experience with death, you had never felt separation from your God. But you had turned your worship to the greatest being under God in an impulsive moment that seemed to make sense at the time. You only belatedly realized that something had changed. You just weren’t sure what.
What if you watched as that same God replaced you in his affections with a baser, uglier, mortal breed—a creature made of clay. And what if you watched in horror as he breathed into their mud bodies the essence of his own spirit—a gift you had never received?
And what if they took every God-given thing considered precious by you for granted as they failed again and again . . . and then turned away from God altogether?
Would you feel some satisfaction when God, unable to allow them to continue, decided to destroy their world and all of the clay people along with it? And would that satisfaction be lost when you learned he couldn’t bear to kill them all but had decided to spare a family—a seed group of those mud people to repopulate the earth?
What if you watched as God patiently taught them laws so they could stay in relationship with him . . . and they continued to do the same things that had ruined their relationship with him in the first place—over and over again?