The Psalm that Summons the Angels

I was intrigued when I read the words of St. Francis de Sales, the Catholic Patron Saint of Writers:

“Make friends with the angels, who though invisible are always with you. Often invoke them, constantly praise them, and make good use of their help and assistance in all your temporal affairs.”

But how do we make friends with—and make use of—beings we cannot see?

Jimmy Stewart managed it in the movie Harvey, befriending an invisible rabbit. But in the story, everyone thought he was crazy. Would I risk being considered odd if I began talking to an unseen being?

And do angels do whatever we ask, as one preacher suggested? If I prayed for my husband to agree to a Hawaiian vacation, would they bombard him with thoughts of luaus, leis, and Waikiki Beach?

I don’t think it works that way.

Still, angels are sent to us by God. Hebrews 1:13–14 tells us:

“But to which of the angels has He ever said: ‘Sit at My right hand, till I make Your enemies Your footstool’? Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for those who will inherit salvation?”

How do they minister? How can we “invoke” them, as St. Francis suggests?

Psalm 103:19–20 reveals the key:

“The Lord has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all. Bless the Lord, O you His angels, you mighty ones who do His bidding, obedient to His spoken word.”

Angels obey God’s word. They carry out His commands—and His word spoken by us. When we speak God’s word into a situation, we summon the angels.

Perhaps there is no greater proof than the protective power of Psalm 91.

Throughout history, confessing Psalm 91 in times of danger has brought protection. Tornadoes have changed course. Wildfires have stopped just short of homes. Soldiers have walked away unharmed from explosions. Thieves have been driven off.

During World War II, citizens of Seadrift, Texas met daily to pray Psalm 91 over their 52 husbands, sons, grandsons, brothers, and boyfriends serving in the military. Angels went to work—and every one of those men returned home alive.

Speaking God’s word activated the angels.

I saw the same truth in 2014 during a medical mission trip to Liberia, in the midst of the Ebola outbreak. The deadly virus was highly contagious, spread by bodily fluids. As a medical gofer, I carried uncovered specimens from the exam room to the lab. Each day, I prayed Psalm 91 over myself and our team, summoning the angels to protect us.

For two weeks, we worked in an Ebola-infested area. When we boarded the plane home, we knew we weren’t leaving alone. The angels we had called upon were still with us, guarding us until we landed safely in Atlanta.

We didn’t see them, but we knew they were there.

St. Francis was right: we should often invoke the angels by speaking God’s word into our situations. It’s more than a good idea. It could be a matter of life and death.