Parables of the Bible: Prophets

By: Wilona Riva

Disclaimer: God owns the Bible; I just borrow it from time to time.


Author's Note: To the Bible Student who asked for a chapter on the Archangel Uriel and Ezekiel.


Visions of God


"Uh-oh!" Raphael exclaimed, dropping the book he was reading, and ran. A blond blur came charging after him, somehow managing to swing a fiery sword, a loaf of bread and a chalice of wine at his head all at the same time. How? Don't ask. Let's just say Uriel is talented.

Persimmon-haired Cherith fell off his window perch laughing. "Get him, Uriel!"

"You're next, brat!" Uriel yelled, as Raphael led him around the opposite side of the table. "Hold still, Raphael, so I can..."

Quite enough of that, if you please, the Father said, appearing in the doorway.

Cherith winced. "That's gotta hurt."

Uriel sheathed his sword. "What hurts?"

"Can't you sense it?"

"Sense what? I am always the last to be chosen for missions. Hey, Adonai, why am I always the last to be chosen?"

The last shall be first, and the first shall be last, came the reply.

"THAT HURTS!" a human voice shouted.

Ezekiel, the Lord sighed. I did suggest He find a way to get Ezekiel's attention.

"Why don't you just have him cut it off?" Uriel suggested. "His beard could use a trim too."

Adonai raised an eyebrow at him.

Uriel blushed, and looked upwards. Perhaps he shouldn't have come to the Throne Room today?

We have talked about this before, Uriel.

Uriel sighed. "I know. I apologize, my King."

I have a poem I would like for you to write, Uriel.

The angel whipped out pen and notebook. Eyes agleam, he poised pen to paper. "Alright, finally!"

"Exactly, why is he an archangel?" Cherith whispered to Raphael.

Raphael shrugged. "Only God knows the answer to that one."


"Uriel sure has a way with words," Reve said, appearing next to them later that evening. "Why are you two washing dishes?"

Cherith grabbed Reve and dunked him head first into the sink.

"That's why," Raphael answered for him.

Neither one of them noticed fluttering to the floor, a scrap of parchment, on which, a few faint lines of a poem could be read:

Two wives of God on Israel's shore,

Went down to Egypt to play the whore.

Caressing Assyria's idols with their breasts,

Lusted after the ripe sheaves of Chaldea.

"Enough," saith the Lord.

"I have had enough," came His final word.


You will suffer the penalty of your lewdness and bear the consequences of your sins of idolatry. Then you will know that I am the Sovereign LORD. (Ezekiel 23:49)


"Lord, why are You crying?" Uriel asked.

Because Ezekiel is crying.

"What did You show him in the vision?"

Israel.