נֻיֹתָ (Nun Yod Tav) – NuYoTa      

יְהוָה–בַּשָּׁמַיִם, הֵכִין כִּסְאוֹ; וּמַלְכוּתוֹ, בַּכֹּל מָשָׁלָה. – תהילים פרק קג, פסוק יט

Psalms 103:19, KJV: The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens: and his kingdom ruleth over all.

Vulgate: Dominus in coelo paravit sedem suam: et regnum ipsius omnibus dominabitur.

נֻיֹתָאֵל NuYoTaEL / Nithael

Influence time and dates: 17:41 – 18:00, December 15 through 19. He rules over the following days: May 12, July 23, October 3, December 14, February 24.

NITHAEL His attribute is King of Heaven, for he ruleth the center of the sky and the midheaven in the natural course. His ray commences from the 266 degree through the 270 degree inclusive, corresponding to the twenty-seventh decade and to the angel called Chenon. 

He serves to obtain the mercy of God, and to obtain long life. This angel rules over emperors, kings, princes, and all civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries. He watches over all legitimate dynasties and over the stability of cultures; he gives a long and peaceful reign to princes who have recourse to him, and protects all those who wish to remain in their employ. The person born under this influence will become famous through their writings and their eloquence; they will have a strong reputation among the wise, and will distinguish themself through their virtues and will merit the confidence of princes.

The negative side of this angel rules over the ruin of empires; he causes revolutions and coups; he influences all those who unite for the overthrowing of government to seize authority and preferred positions.

FIRST CONVERSATION

Contact begins even from the first words of the versicle, with the image of a globe formed of latitude and longitude lines in empty space; above it, a flat square grid; resting in the center, a throne. This becomes clearer until it is very bright and distinct as I fall silent.

“Angel, show thyself that I may know thee.” I see that the throne is empty, but a being is present with me in the room, invisible but tangible, with a hand on my heart and another on my back. A soft voice in my left ear: Do you wish to know the one who sits upon the throne? Then rise up. I stand up, then the voice continues: Still the throne is filled; thou thyself are the seat, and the spirit of the Lord and Lady is [within? upon?] you. Be seated. I sit. In my vision, the world rolls out before me to the east like a carpet, and it is as if I can see around the world, and afar off I see a throne and a figure seated. On either side, between us, countless animals and humans line a straight path, as if in a medieval throne room, but roofed over with the blue sky and with trees as pillars.

“Angel, what is thy office concerning me?” The voice resumes, now louder and behind me: Think not that the throne makes the king: Wherever the Lord and Lady are present, that is their throne. My work is to prepare you as a candidate before the assembly of gods, to purify you that you may bear the presence of power and not faint nor falter.

“Angel, please prepare me for what is to come.” Sudden silence; I can hear physical rain begin outside the room. There is no sign from the angel, yet I feel their presence. I wonder, is this writing itself the preparation of which the angel spoke? . . . but I recieve a strong wordless NO and the command to let my pen stop writing and sit in silence. This lasts for some time, during which my mind is blank, listening for the voice of the angel.

Suddenly, my vision changes, and I am looking through the eyes of Joseph in a nativity scene. I see four angels bearing a child down from heaven to lay in the manger; then the scene shifts abruptly to a Dickensian street scene, with snow on cobblestones, and a group of carolers who fall suddenly silent and amazed, then part so I can see a baby who becomes a naked, bloody man on the street among them. A woman runs up, holding a ragged red cloak, which she wraps around the figure, who becomes a smooth black stone. It is picked up and carried through the street, and all who see it bow or take off their hats, and follow behind — the sense is of reverence and awe, not fear.

The stone, and the crowd, approach a cathedral. Politicians and priests and doctors stand on the steps, surrounded by men with guns and flanked by tanks; warplanes fly overhead. The order to fire does not come, and one by one, the dignitaries bow, or flee, or fall wailing, or remain frozen in place like statues. When the stone borne by the woman enters the cathedral, a crash of thunder and passing darkness. The stones of the cathedral crumble, revealing the interior of a living womb. At the center, which was the crossing of the transept before the altar, a four-post bed is dressed in crimson. The stone is placed within it, and velvet curtains fall about it.

The voice proclaims to all the world: Rejoice and be free, for the kingdom is thine, and thy being the dwellingplace of holiness. Revelry and celebration ensue — and I am once more in my room feeling solid and strong in my body and surrounded by a watchful, compassionate peace and in the tangible presence of the angel, who continues:

What you have seen will surely come to pass: Let them see it who can. And say thus to the world, to those who can hear: The Kingdom of God is not mocked, and before it ten thousand voices fall silent, and the false kings are abashed. Thus shall ye know truth from lies, and the face of the Lord and Lady: to them alone the spirit bows.

SECOND CONVERSATION

The four walls of the room press in, then push out into vision, unrolling around me on all sides. My seat before the altar becomes like a stool before a great throne, with four lions at the feet, a box-like seat of gold covered in figures, and wings of cherubim stretched around the cushion, which is red and gold. Overhead, a crown hangs suspended in the heavens. The throne is empty. Where my walls stood, I see four wide streets: One is a market thronged with people, one is a wild and lush garden, one is a bridge over a great water, and one is a golden thread in a field of stars. Along each of these, I see countless people — beings of many shapes and nations, genera and kingdoms. But the throne, mighty as it is, sits ignored at the crossroads, like a statue in a public square.

“Angel, show thyself that I may know thee.” There is one beside me who kneels at the other side of the throne. They appear simple, in a brown robe like a monk, with a rope for a belt. Their hood is down, and their face is plain: a simple person, neither male nor female, of no particular age or race but human; yet I feel from them great sanctity and deep care.

“Holy angel, why do you wait in this place, which is forgotten by the world?” I wait so it will not be completely forgotten. It is good to have company. And the throne is lonely, and lies forgotten by those people who have said in their hearts, “Its emptiness means I alone am king, or there is no authority or stewardship, no sovereign, but only countless beings, and all anarchy is loosed upon the world. Let each do for themselves, and none cares or watches.” So I sit with this throne, which they think is empty, and I keep watch over it. I have been here a long time. And look what I have seen!

The boxy seat of the throne, covered in figures, becomes clear like crystal, and I see that it contains itself, and all the worlds beside, spread out like four roads within it directed toward infinity; the roads pass through countless worlds, and I see that heavens and hells are encompassed within the throne. And the one who watches beside me says, I stay because I care for it all, and would not leave it alone or unwatched: For an empty throne is a dangerous thing, as any fool may sit thereon.

“Angel, tell me, if you are the keeper who cares for all that is, why do you not sit upon your throne, as you are its king and sovereign?” I do not descend to sit, nor climb so high as that seat, so that all the countless worlds may be free. For when the king is present, what is a throne but a mere seat? And because I care for the sanctity of this throne, I kneel beside it, and pray with you and all who come, Holy Holy Holy the throne of the living gods. For with their own hands they have created it, by their power sustain it, by their community adorn it, and in their countless sovereignties tend this prayer and this place with me.

I hear, from every direction, voices crying “Holy, holy, holy: for are we not as gods, each in the temple of our body, tending the thrones which are ours, our lives and those we love? Holy, holy, holy the King who hath granted it thus; holy the throne of the unknown and living god, who careth and watcheth over us all.”

The four walls of my room are again four walls, and the sun is setting on Solstice, and the world is full of holiness.