“The moment is here for you
to stop sleeping and wake up… the night is nearly over, daylight
is on the way; so let us throw off everything that belongs to the darkness
and equip ourselves for the light… Let your armor be the
Lord Jesus Christ, and stop worrying about how your disordered natural
inclinations may be fulfilled.”
--Romans 13: 11-14
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In these verses Paul seems to speak to my life directly;
middle aged, worried about my appetites and inclinations, sleep-walking through
my own dark woods (i.e. mid-life crisis). But Paul assures us that that night
nearly over, and daylight is on the way. Consider what that might mean to you
personally. For me, the night seems to
describe the darkness that comes during a particularly difficult time: a time
when I feel alone, lost, afraid. And the
daylight brings hope, the ability to see clearly what now I can only see in
shadows and vague shapes –as if through a glass darkly.
On one level the darkness, the night imagery, speaks to me
of a time when our faith is challenged and we struggle to see signs of God’s
presence, God’s guidance, God’s love; perhaps Paul is referring to this
existence –this world. A place of spiritual darkness? A place and time wherein
we cannot see God clearly, but he reassures us that daylight is coming. And it
seems to me that he isn’t referring just to a sunrise tomorrow morning, but the
Son rise of God’s fullness and grace. The
light of Christ.
And so, Paul exhorts us to throw off everything that belongs
to the darkness, and singles out drunkenness, orgies, licentiousness and
jealousy for special mention (cf.13:13). And yet, I think there is much more to
this “deeds of darkness” than the easily singled out: sexual immorality (and drunkenness).
In the darkness we find ourselves
afraid, anxious, insecure, confused, feeling hopeless, defensive (suspicious of
every sound, every shadow that passes); in the darkness we grow tired; exhausted,
we huddle together in an enclosed space seeking security –and desperate to
escape from life’s troubles, how often do we long to simply fall into sleep?
All this belongs to the night, along with our revels and
orgies and drunkenness –we hide them from the light to avoid witness to our
shame, our fear, our vulnerability –our weakness. In the dark, though, it is too easy to get
lost. To think you are hidden, because you cannot see. Like a small child who
covers his eyes and imagines the world cannot see him, we can begin to imagine
our weakness and our sin is hidden –because it is kept in the darkness. However, Paul says to us: throw off those
deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. On the pious surface it would be easy to see
this as simply: stop doing bad things and
be a good Christian!
But, I think there is much more to it, and much less. I think Paul is also saying: stop hiding
yourselves! Put on the armor of light; on the one hand, (the spiritual hand,
one might say) act like Christ! Yes! Of course! But on the other hand (on the
more basic, more pedestrian day to day hand) put on the armor of light could also mean, don’t hide yourself! Don’t
pretend to be something you aren’t. And
let the world accept or reject you because of who you really are! In a sense,
there is no real armor except the armor of light. As long as you have something to hide
(something you are ashamed to have revealed) you will be afraid. Afraid it will
come to light. And yet Paul seems to be
saying that “the light” is exactly what our darkness needs.
I don’t know that we need to wander the streets wearing scarlet
letters, but perhaps the Puritans weren’t completely wrong. For me, I am more interested in the concept of
openness and vulnerability as strengths (as a kind of spiritual or
psychological armor) and I am also interested in the sacrament of confession. We
definitely need to admit to each other, privately and publicly, our brokenness
and our need for Grace. Wake up, Paul
says. If you are a follower of Christ, then you need to start living like
one. But it is also clear that he knows
we aren’t just going to just wake up one morning and suddenly be perfect. It
seems to me that the message here isn’t about being perfect, but about being
awake. Living intentionally and vulnerably.
Putting on the armor of light doesn’t mean we will be free from
temptation (or that we won’t stumble into sin) but that we will be truly visible,
we will be fully vulnerable, and perhaps that is how we will become light for
the world.
Don’t ask yourself if you are ready. The hour is nigh. The moment
is here. Stop sleep walking. Wake up. Put
on the light.
