God Always Wins Battles
September 29, 2026
29 September
Ss Michael, St Gabriel and St Raphael
Angels - messengers from God - appear
frequently in Scripture, but only Michael, Gabriel and Raphael are named.
Michael appears in Daniel's vision as "the great prince" who defends
Israel against its enemies; in the Book of Revelation, he leads God's armies to
final victory over the forces of evil. Devotion to Michael is the oldest
angelic devotion, rising in the East in the fourth century. The Church in the
West began to observe a feast honouring Michael and the angels in the fifth
century.
Gabriel also makes an appearance in Daniel's visions, announcing Michael's role in God's plan. His best-known appearance is an encounter with a young Jewish girl named Mary, who consents to bear the Messiah.
Raphael's activity is confined to the Old Testament story of Tobit. There he appears to guide Tobit's son Tobiah through a series of fantastic adventures which lead to a threefold happy ending: Tobiah's marriage to Sarah, the healing of Tobit's blindness and the restoration of the family fortune. The memorials of Gabriel (March 24) and Raphael (October 24) were added to the Roman calendar in 1921. The 1970 revision of the calendar joined their feasts to Michael.
You and I need to always remember and be confident that if we do our part, God will do the rest and will always win the battle with us and for us. We have an army led by our Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Rafael aside from our very own guardian angel together with our good friends the Holy Souls in Purgatory. Call on them as we call on our Father God, our brother Jesus and our sanctifier the Holy Spirit for help. Give a name to your guardian angel. You know the name of my guardian angel? I named him, Ángel. He is so alert and really dependable.
We have learned the prayers to St. Michael and to our guardian angel. Both prayers are traditional prayers of the Church and handed down from generation to generation.
I suggest you and I make the above prayers form part
of our daily prayers. The world is in
need of prayers for peace, for truth and for good to triumph always against
evil. We petition this most effectively
in the Mass and after the Mass. It is
just a matter of doing it every day and every moment we can pray during the
day. Then it will form part of our daily
ordinary life.
Let’s continue with the last elaboration on being confident in victory from the fourth word of Christ from the Cross (From The Cries of Jesus from the Cross, A Fulton J. Sheen’s Anthology).
7 Confidence in Victory
Perhaps at no time in modern history was there ever such a flight from life as at the present day. In much modern literature, this is manifested either by a return to the primitive through sex or through the subconscious.
In daily life, too, there is the flight from consciousness through alcoholism, or the flight from decision through indifference, or the flight from freedom by the denial of responsibility. All these are symptoms of despair. Many people, as a result, are cracking up, emotionally, mentally, and morally. Our problem is not to diagnose the malady, but to heal it.
Is there another way out, even in these dark days? For an answer, one must go back to the darkest day the world ever saw, the day when the sun hid its face at noon, as if ashamed to shed its light on the crime men committed at Calvary. It recalled the dark moment of the Old Law when the high priest, clothed not in gorgeous golden robes, but in simple white, entered into the darkness of the Holy of Holies, to sprinkle it with blood in atonement for the sins of the people. The people could not see him, nor could they hear him. They knew only that his being there was a matter of supreme importance, for not until he emerged might they feel that the weight of their sins had been lifted.
One day that symbol became a reality as darkness spread over the earth, blurring three crosses silhouetted against a black horizon. The true High Priest, clothed in Innocence, entered into that place where God had hidden Himself because of man’s sins, to sprinkle the Holy of Holies with His own Blood in reparation for the sins of men. We see nothing; there is only an awful silence, a thick gloom, relieved by one cry, sent up from a broken heart of self-abasement: “My God, my God, Why hast thou forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34).
These words were the first words of the prophetic Psalm 21, written a thousand years before this black day. Though the psalm begins with sadness, it ends with joy, victory, and the assurance of spiritual sovereignty over the earth.
First, there is sorrow:
O God, my God, look upon me: Why hast thou forsaken me?. . . .
But
I am a worm and no man: the reproach of men and the outcast of the
people.
All
they that saw me have laughed me to scorn: they have spoken with the lips and
wagged the head.
“He
hoped in the Lord, let him deliver him: let him save him, seeing he delighted
in him.” . . .
They
have dug my hands and feet. They have numbered all my bones.
And they have looked and stared upon me. They parted my garments amongst them: and upon my vesture they cast lots.
Then
comes the promise of victory:
Ye
that fear the Lord praise him: all ye the seed of Jacob, glorify him.
Let all the seed of Israel fear him: because he hath not slighted nor despised the supplication of the poor man. Neither hath he turned away his face from me: and when I cried to him, he heard me.
The poor shall eat and shall be filled: and they shall praise the Lord that seek him: their hearts shall live for ever and ever.
All the ends of the earth shall remember, and shall be converted to the Lord: And all the kindreds of the Gentiles shall adore in his sight.
For the kingdom is the Lord’s, and he shall have dominion over the nations.
Mary, standing at the foot of the Cross, knew her Scripture well. When she heard Our Lord begin Psalm 21, it reminded her of a song that she sang too. It was her fourth word, which she chanted in the home of Elizabeth, the greatest song ever written, the Magnificat: “My soul doth magnify my Lord.” It contains very much the same sentiments of Psalm 21 — namely, the assurance of victory.
And Mary said:
My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior. Because he hath regarded the humility of his handmaid: for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because he that is mighty hath done great things to me: and holy is his name. And his mercy is from generation unto generations, to them that fear him. He hath showed might in his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted the humble. He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away. He hath received Israel his servant, being mindful of his mercy. As he spoke to our fathers: to Abraham and to his seed forever. (Luke 1:46–55)
There is something common to both these songs: both were spoken before there was any assurance of victory. In His fourth word from the Cross, the suffering figure looks forward through the darkness to the triumph of the Resurrection, and His spiritual dominion over the earth. In her fourth word, the Woman, nine months before her child is born, looks down the long procession of the coming ages, and proclaims that when the world’s great women like Livia, Julia, and Octavia shall have been forgotten, the ordinary law of human oblivion will be suspended in her favor, because she is the Mother of Him whose name is holy, and whose Cross is the redemption of men.
How hopeless from a human point of view was the prospect of a Man on the Cross crying to God in darkness, ever exercising dominion over the earth that rejected Him! How hopeless from a human point of view was the prospect of an insignificant village maiden begetting a Son who would be the Supreme Revolutionist of the centuries, exalting the poor to the family of the Godhead!
Both were really words of triumph, one of victory before the battle was over, one of overlordship before the Lord was born. To both Jesus and Mary, there were treasures in darkness, whether the darkness be on a black hill or in a dark womb.
Are you in the valley of despair? Then learn that the Gospel of Christ can be heard as good news even by those whose lives have been shattered by bad news, for only those who walk in darkness ever see the stars.
All trusting implies something you cannot see. If you could see, there would be no occasion for trust. When you say you trust a man only insofar as you can see him, you do not trust him at all. Now, to trust God means to hold fast to the truth that His purposes are good and holy, not because you see them, but in spite of appearances to the contrary.
The reason, therefore, why some souls emerge purified from catastrophe while other souls come out worse, is because the first had One in whom they could trust and the second had none but themselves. The atheist, therefore, is properly defined as the person who has no invisible means of support.
Have you ever noticed, as you talk to your fellow men, the difference in the reaction to crisis on the part of those who have faith in God and His purposes and of those who have not? The man without faith was generally greatly surprised at the dark turn of events with two world wars in twenty-one years, the resurgence of barbarism and the abandonment of moral principles. But the man with faith in God was not so surprised. The sun came out just as he had expected; chaos was in the cards though they had not yet been dealt, for he knew that “unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it” (Ps. 126:1).
Have you also observed that the person without faith finding his world of “progress” becoming so unprogressive, often reacted by blaming religion, by criticizing the Church, and even by blaspheming God for not stopping the war? Such egotists have some sense of justice, and since they refuse to blame themselves, then they must find a scapegoat.
But the man with faith, in the midst of taunts like that which came from the haughty monarch, “Who is the God that shall deliver you out of my hand” (Dan. 3:15), answers as did the three youths in the fiery furnace: “For behold our God, whom we worship, is able to save us from the furnace of burning fire and to deliver us out of thy hands, O king. But if he will not, be it known to thee, O king, that we will not worship thy gods nor adore the golden statue which thou hast set up” (Dan. 3:17–18).
To bring out this difference between those who can call on God in darkness and those who do not, let us set in contrast a typical modern without faith and a saint. As an example of the first, take H. G. Wells, who, for decades, hoped that “man with his feet on earth would one day have hands reaching among the stars.”
When
darkness fell over the earth in these last few years, he turned to pessimism.
“There is no reason whatever to believe that the order of nature has any
greater bias in favor of man than it had in favor of the ichthyosaur. In spite
of all my disposition to a brave looking optimism, I perceive that now the
universe is bored with him, is turning a hard face to him, and I see him being
carried less and less intelligently, and more and more rapidly . . . along the
stream of fate to degradation, suffering, and death” (H. G. Wells, The Fate of Homo Sapiens (1939). Now hear St. Paul, who already had been
persecuted, and who knew that the tyrant who held the sword would one day draw
it across his neck:
“We are reviled: and we bless. We are persecuted: and we suffer it. We are blasphemed: and we entreat. We are made as the refuse of this world” (1 Cor. 4:12–13).
Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation? Or distress? Or famine? Or nakedness? Or danger? Or persecution? Or the sword? For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:35, 38–39)
Take another comparison in time of trouble. Hear Bertrand Russell, a typical modern without faith in God. What is his hope for man?
Man’s origin, his growth, his hopes, fears, his loves, and beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocation of atoms. That no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling, can preserve the individual beyond the grave; that all the labor of the ages, all devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius are destined to extinction, and that the whole temple of Man’s achievement must be buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruins.
Only
on the firm foundation of unyielding despair can the soul’s habitation be
safely built (Bertrand Russell, The Free Man’s Worship (1903). Now turn to St.
Augustine, who lived in a world of despair when the Roman Empire that had
survived for centuries fell, even as Satan fell from heaven to the barbarians
from the North.
God,
who is not the Author of evil, but who allowest it to exist in order to prevent
greater evil;
God,
who art loved, knowingly or unknowingly, by everything that is capable of
loving;
God, in whom all things are, yet who receivest from the ignominy of creatures, no ignominy, from their malice, no malice, from their errors, no errors;
God,
from whom to turn is to fall, to whom to turn is to rise again, in whom to
dwell is to find firm support; from whom to depart is to die, to return to whom
is to be restored to life, to dwell in whom is to live;
God,
whom to forsake is the same as to perish, whom to search for is the same as to
love, whom to see is the same as to possess.
God, toward whom faith urges us, hope raises us, charity unites us. God, through whom we triumph over our enemy;
Thee
I invoke.
To
Thee, I address my prayers.
You see the difference! Now choose! Will you slip down into abysmal despair, or will you, like Christ in a blackness at high noon and like Mary ere her Tree of Life had seen the earth, trust in God, His mercy and His victory?
If you are unhappy, or sad, or despondent, it is basically for only one reason: you have refused to respond to Love’s plea: “Come to me, all you that labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you. Take up my yoke upon you and learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart: and you shall find rest to your souls” (Matt. 11:28–29). Everywhere else but in Him, the liberation promised is either armed or forced, and that can mean slavery. Only nailed love is free. Unnailed and uncrucified love can compel. Hands pinioned to a wooden beam cannot compel, nor can a lifted Host and an elevated Chalice constrain, but they can beckon and solicit.
That
kind of love gives you these three suggestions for living in troubled times:
1. 1. Never forget that there are only two philosophies to rule your life: the one of the Cross, which starts with the fast and ends with the feast; the other of Satan, which starts with the feast and ends with the headache. Unless there is the Cross, there will never be the empty tomb; unless there is faith in darkness, there will never be vision in light; unless there is a Good Friday, there will never be an Easter Sunday. In the beautiful assurance of our Lord: “Amen, amen, I say to you, that you shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice: and you shall be made sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy” (John 16:20).
2. 2. When bereavement comes, and when the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” strike, when, like Simon of Cyrene, a cross is laid on your reluctant shoulders, take that cross to daily Mass and say to our Lord at the moment of consecration: “As Thou, my Savior, in love for me dost say: ‘This is my Body! This is my Blood!’ so I say to Thee: ‘This is my body! Take it. This is my blood! Take it. They are yours. I care not if the accidents or species of my life remain, with my daily work, my routine duties. But all that I am substantially, take, consecrate, ennoble, spiritualize; turn my cross into a crucifix, so that I am no longer mine, but Thine, O Love Divine!’”
3. 3. Think not of Almighty God as a kind of absentee landlord with whom you hardly dare to be familiar, or to whom you go to fix your leaks, or to get yourself out of a mess. Think neither of God as an insurance agent, who can protect you against loss by fire. Approach Him not timidly, as a stenographer might approach the boss for a raise, fearful, half believing that you will never receive what you seek. Do not fear Him with a servile fear, for God is more patient with you than you are with yourself. Would you, for example, be as patient with the wicked world today as He is? Would you even be as patient with anyone else who had the same faults as you? Rather, approach Him in full confidence and even with the boldness of a loving child who has a right to ask a Father for favors.
Though He may not grant all your wants, be sure that, in a certain sense, there is no unanswered prayer. A child asks his father for something that may not be good for him, such as a gun. The father, while refusing, will pick up the child in his arms to console him, giving the response of love, even in the denial of a request. As the child forgets in that embrace that he ever asked a favor, so in praying, you forget what you wanted by receiving what you needed — a return of love. Do not forget either that there are not two kinds of answers to prayer, but three: One is “Yes.” Another is “No.” The third is “Wait.”
You will find that, as you pray, the nature of your requests will change. You will ask less and less things for yourself and more and more for His love. Is it not true in human relationships that the more you love someone, the more you seek to give, and the less you desire to receive? The deepest love never says: “Give me,” but it does say: “Make me.” You probably think that if Our Lord came into your room some night as you were praying, you would ask Him favors, or present your difficulties, or say: “When will the war end?” or “Should I buy General Motors stock?” or “Give me a million.”
No!
You would throw yourself on your knees and kiss the hem of His garment. And the
moment He laid His hands on your head, you would feel such a peace and trust
and confidence — even in darkness — that you would not even remember you had
questions to ask or favors to beg. You would consider them a kind of
desecration. You would want only to look into His face, and you would be in a
world that only lovers know. That would be the only heaven you wanted!
— Seven Words of Jesus and Mary
How true! How very true, indeed! You will not ask for anything more and even now if you cultivate and keep a loving relationship with Jesus Who suffered and died on the Cross for you, you will not have to ask even once; only a movement of the mind and heart is enough for Him to grant whatever is good for you.
I often find myself singing in my heart the following lines by Barbara
Streisand:
I am a woman in love,
And I’ll do anything to get you into my
world
And hold you within
It’s a right I defend
Over and over again
What do I do?
I don’t like to let the day pass without publishing this post today as scheduled even if towards the evening.
See you in the next post, “May tomorrow be a perfect day; may you find love and laughter along the way; may God keep you in his tender care; ‘til He brings us together again.”
Affectionately,
Guadalupinky
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