I like the 9th level feature. Let's say I want my Aasimar Cleric PC, lets call him The Stranger, to go on an adventure with a Halfling companion. I don't quite know what Holy Order or Divine Domain he's going to be, he doesn't even know who he is, though he might be kinda like an elf and kinda into wands.
By the end of our tutorial adventure by the dry, wasted seas of the East where I've found the stars that the other four Aasimar messengers of the Gods were hanging about, I've decided I'm going to focus on the study of runes and use holy fire magic. You might think I'm a Wizard, but my powers are divine and related to me chanting, even if a wand helps with them. So I decide my Holy Order is going to be Scholar.
3,000 years of D&D game play (and multiple different campaigns) later, my now-8th-level Cleric has just rescued my 13 dwarf Fighter PC allies and our halfling Expert companion from three MONSTROUS TROLLS. And they were all arguing amongst themselves about how they were going to cook them -- whether it be turned on a spit or whether they should sit on the party members one by one and squash them into jelly. They spent so much time arguing the witherto's and whyfor's that the sun's first light cracked open through a boulder my Cleric broke in half with my recently acquired spell Stone Shape and Poof! And the sunlight turned them all into stone!
Now, this would be a great stopping point for the adventure that session, but the DM wants to give us one more reward, and between the XP for beating the Trolls and the XP for finding the Troll's treasure, I'll definitely reach 9th level. So we raid the Troll horde, and I find an ancient elf-blade forged in the hidden elf city of stone now sunken beneath the sea. I don't know all that, but I do know it's a pretty sweet longsword, only I'm not set up for using melee weapons, being a scholar cleric. But now my 9th level Holy Order feature kicks in, and I choose to also be a Protector. And after the Half-elven sage in the last homely house between the mountains and the sea appraises my sword as Glamdring, sword of the King, my Cleric Gandalf prompty beings cracking in goblin skulls with it and fighting off Orcs and Trolls through the rest of the campaign that lasts for another 67 years and ends with me going over the sea back into the utter west with my halfling and elf buddies. And eventually one dwarf PC comes and hangs with us, too.