The Armor of Light

Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

One of my favorite prayers. The Collect for the First Sunday of Advent.

Sometimes "the works of darkness" are an avaricious ogre, dripping with chaos and slinging terror. Sometimes they personify as a rapist, a corrupt official, an abuser of power, a murderer, a thief. But most days, at least for me, the works of darkness slip in between the cracks of my own humanness. They show up, as they did this week, as small irritants, a meltdown over difficulty learning Swahili, frustration with too many tasks for the available time, self-doubt, judgmental thoughts, pride, a sprinkling of anger, and a dash of gossip. Yup. The works of darkness. Not pretty. Not anything of which I’m proud.

But, thanks be to God, the gift of grace gives us strength to “put on the armor of light," and we feel its weight (or its lightness?). Once I choose to put on the armor of light, I can’t help but experience the immediate and mundane differently. When I put on the armor of light, I assume a new posture in the world. My head lifts and my eyes waken to beauty large and small. My ears hear laughter and song. My hands open to blessings, and my heart opens to joy.

If I put on the armor of light and look back on the week, I relish the simple pleasure of cooking squash on Thursday and the resonant tenor voice behind me in church this morning that caressed then lifted up words of praise. I am reminded of a wooden ceiling bathed in sunlight, like the hull of a great ark, and the treasure of a massive floor of hand-laid stones that will soon be secreted away with a layer of cement. Draped in the armor of light, I smile at the raucous incongruity of wedding party photos while a hen pecks her way in an among the guests, and the trio of turkeys who waggle their way into meeting space where the UCBC faculty is gathered.

Yes, give me grace to cast away the works of darkness that creep into my thoughts each day--the small but pernicious doubts, jealousies, and judgments. Give me grace to put on the armor of light, stand in humility and give thanks.