The Cherubim
Meet and Greet...
There's been a lot of talk over the years about people engaging with angels, and what is remarkable (and a little foreboding) is that we will judge them!
They are God's divine workforce—the 'deacons' of heaven. No matter how much you are impressed with them, what about the Cherubim—those mysterious creatures who show up dramatically in the most unexpected places in Scripture? Guarding the entrance to Eden, woven into the fabric of the tabernacle, overshadowing the mercy seat on the Ark of the Covenant.
Cherubim, meek and mild like Jesus? If you think that, you’ve swallowed the myth—hook, line, and sinker! They’re not the chubby, naked little babies with wings you see in Renaissance paintings. Far from it! These beings are something else entirely. When they show up, they bring weight, presence, and a reminder that we are dealing with something beyond us. Engage with one, and you won't be laughing and enjoying a good chinwag.
You definitely don't have your own personal Cherubim; unlike the angels—who, Scripture says, are beyond counting—Cherubim can be counted, numbered, and audited. There were two on the Ark of the Covenant, their wings stretched out over the mercy seat. Four in Ezekiel’s vision, moving with the presence of God, their faces set in every direction, always in position, always with purpose.
The first time we meet and greet them is in Genesis 3. Adam and Eve, having chosen their own way over God's, are sent out of the garden. At the entrance, God places the Cherubim with a flaming sword flashing back and forth. Does that mean Adam and Eve could actually see them? Probably not. But if you approached the entrance, you would know about it—even if they were not visible to the naked eye, their presence could be felt, with great consequence.
Some doors, gates, or entrances, once closed, cannot be walked through again. Holiness is literally not something to be trifled with. Their fruit-eating, rebellious choice had far-reaching consequences—even for us. Sin has consequences.
Cherubim don’t just stand guard to keep people out; they also point forward to something greater—because if there’s one thing we learn throughout Scripture, it’s that God is in the business of making a way where there was none. It’s like us telling God there is no door to the circumstances we face, and Him responding, "There! I've made a door, and it's over there!"
Fast forward to Exodus, where the Cherubim show up again—this time not with swords, but with wings, overshadowing the mercy seat on the Ark of the Covenant. Covering. Protecting.
And it’s here—right between the Cherubim—that God chooses to meet with His people. Meeting them in the tension between justice and mercy, holiness and grace.
The Cherubim aren’t just guardians anymore; they’ve become participants in the unfolding story of redemption. They’re there in the Holy of Holies, where the blood of sacrifice is sprinkled, where grace collides with guilt, and where the presence of God dwells among His people—sometimes in clouds of glory, sometimes in pillars of fire.
And then Ezekiel sees them. I love this one—his vision is something else entirely. Read it in Ezekiel 1 and see him fumbling with his words, stunned and almost speechless, trying—like a five-year-old—to describe glory, majesty, and colours that are nowhere on the human spectrum.
Wheels within wheels. Fire and movement and eyes everywhere. And right in the midst of it all, the Cherubim—alive, dynamic, carriers of God’s presence. Faces like a lion, an ox, an eagle, and a man. Moving wherever the Spirit goes. It was like... such is the 'likeness'...
And this is where it gets very, very interesting.
Ezekiel describes them as guardians, protectors, and worshippers—then, in another passage—Ezekiel 28—he has his eye on one particular majestic being and speaks of this Cherub in particular. An anointed guardian Cherub. Beautiful. Radiant. Positioned on the holy mountain of God, with God, in God's presence—front-facing, with unfettered access to God's very presence.
Stop.
Queue the MP3, volume 75%, play: Gustav Holst's Mars, the Bringer of War...
Unbelievably, pride entered in. And that Cherub? Cast down.
Satan.
Once a Cherub, anointed, standing in the presence of God. But he wanted more. And the moment he tried to exalt himself above his Creator—slip, trip—he fell.. never to recover.
Cherubim exist to serve, guard, and reflect the glory of Another.
Yes, there's the question of whether this is referencing a ruler in history, but the question mark still remains.
Will we ever see the Cherubim? Are they still there? Joy! One more time, we see them—Revelation 4—where around the throne they are crying out day and night, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
Someone should use that in a hymn...
They did - it’s the same song we’ve been singing for centuries. The same cry echoed in the hymn by Reginald Heber in 1826, who sadly died at the age of 42:
Holy, holy, holy!
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
I'm not sure what a 'wert' is, but from Genesis to Revelation, the Cherubim tell the story. They remind us of a God who is holy, a God who is near, a God who is making a way.
The Cherubim cried out, and their voice shook the temple- they come with an health and safety warning for the ears - they’re not just relics of an ancient story. They still invite us to wrestle with the holiness of God and the tension of living between the now and the not yet.
One last point of interest... the Cherubim were stationed at Eden—but have you noticed? They weren’t stationed at the empty tomb. The way is open. The presence of God, once guarded, now welcomes you in. To the naked eye, no Cherubim in sight.
The veil in the temple—the one with Cherubim woven into it—was torn in two.
The divine presence is no longer behind a curtain. It’s here. Now. For you.
Meet, greet and participate…
The Cherubim are still in motion, inviting you to join in the greatest venture mankind can ever participate in—worshipping, declaring, and moving with the presence of God.