From Darkness to Light: The Power of Hope
An Advent Sermon on Romans 13:12-14, Year A, EUMC & BCUMC
November 30, 2025
Introduction
We gather this morning in the season of Advent, a season marked by waiting, by longing, by hope. The very word “Advent” means “coming”—we await the coming of Christ, both his historical birth in Bethlehem and his promised return in glory. But Advent is also about something happening right now, in this very moment, in our very hearts.
Think about the experience of waking up in the morning. You’ve been asleep, lost in dreams, unaware of the world around you. Then the alarm sounds, or light begins to filter through your window, and you face a choice: Will you hit the snooze button and retreat back into the comfortable darkness? Or will you rise, shake off sleep, and step into the light of a new day?
This is the choice Paul presents to the church in Rome, and it’s the choice God presents to each of us today. Listen to his urgent words from Romans 13:12-14:
“The night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.”
This morning, we’re going to explore this powerful call to transformation, from darkness to light, and discover what it means for us in this Advent season.
I. Recognizing the Works of Darkness
Paul doesn’t mince words. He knows that before we can step into the light, we must first be honest about the darkness. He calls us to “lay aside the works of darkness.” But what does that mean for us today?
In Paul’s list, we see both public and private sins. There’s the obvious darkness: drunkenness and debauchery, the ways we lose control and harm ourselves and others through excess and indulgence. But notice that Paul also includes things that might seem less dramatic: quarreling and jealousy. The darkness isn’t just found in the spectacular sins that make headlines; it’s also found in the quiet bitterness we harbor toward a coworker who got the promotion we wanted, in the sharp words we speak to our spouse when we’re tired, in the envy that creeps into our hearts when we scroll through social media.
The prophet Isaiah understood this too. In Isaiah 2:5, he issues a stirring invitation: “O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” But this invitation comes after chapters describing Israel’s darkness—their idolatry, their oppression of the poor, their empty religiosity. Isaiah knew that before people could walk in God’s light, they needed to see the darkness they were walking in.
What are the works of darkness in our lives today? Perhaps it’s the way we’ve become numb to violence and suffering in our world. Maybe it’s the divisions we’ve allowed to harden in our families and communities. It could be the small compromises we make daily—the “harmless” gossip, the “justified” anger, the “deserved” indulgence. Or perhaps it’s the spiritual drowsiness Jesus warns about in Matthew 24:36-44, where people are so caught up in the ordinary activities of life—eating, drinking, marrying—that they’re completely unprepared for what matters most.
The darkness can also be societal. We live in a world where loneliness is epidemic, where anxiety disorders are rising, where political discourse has become toxic, where the gap between rich and poor grows wider. These are works of darkness too—systems and patterns that keep people bound, separated from God and one another.
But here’s the crucial point: recognizing the darkness is not meant to condemn us or plunge us into despair. Rather, it’s the necessary first step toward transformation.
John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, understood this deeply. He spoke of “prevenient grace”—God’s grace that goes before us, that works in our hearts even before we’re aware of it. This grace opens our eyes to see the darkness for what it is. It’s actually a gift to see clearly, because you cannot be freed from chains you don’t know you’re wearing.
The darkness is real, but it does not have the final word.
II. The Promise of Light Breaking Through
Paul declares with confidence: “The night is far gone, the day is near.” This isn’t wishful thinking; it’s a declaration of reality. In Jesus Christ, God has already broken into our darkness. The light has already begun to shine.
When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, angels proclaimed to terrified shepherds, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy.” Light flooded into a dark field. Light entered a dark world. That baby in the manger was, as John’s Gospel tells us, “the true light, which enlightens everyone.”
But the promise is even greater than we often imagine. God’s light doesn’t just show us where we’ve been wrong; it transforms us. It doesn’t just expose our sin; it heals us. It doesn’t just reveal the darkness; it overcomes it.
We understand this as the work of “justifying grace.” When we turn to Christ in faith, when we accept his offer of salvation, something profound happens. God doesn’t just overlook our sins; he forgives them. He doesn’t just ignore our past; he redeems it. We are declared righteous—not because we’ve earned it, but because of what Christ has done for us. The guilt that has weighed us down is lifted. The shame that has kept us hiding is removed. We are brought from darkness into his marvelous light.
But God’s grace doesn’t stop there. Wesley also spoke of “sanctifying grace”—God’s ongoing work to actually make us holy, to transform our character, to conform us to the image of Christ. This is the journey from darkness to light that continues throughout our lives. Day by day, choice by choice, moment by moment, God’s grace is at work in us, enabling us to become the people we were created to be.
Think of a sunrise. The darkness doesn’t flee instantly; there’s a gradual brightening, a slow but steady increase of light until the full day has come. That’s what God’s sanctifying grace does in our lives. The promise isn’t just that one day, far in the future, we’ll be made perfect. The promise is that right now, today, God is at work in us. The light is breaking through.
This is why Paul can say with such urgency: “The night is far gone, the day is near.” We’re not waiting for something that might happen someday. We’re living in the dawn. The transformation has already begun.
III. Putting On the Armor of Light
So if the light is breaking through, if God’s grace is at work in us, what does that look like practically? Paul tells us: “Put on the armor of light” and “put on the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Notice the active language. Paul doesn’t say, “Wait passively for God to change you.” He says, “Put on.” It’s something we do, enabled by God’s grace.
This is the beautiful partnership of divine grace and human response that Wesley emphasized. God’s grace empowers us, but we must cooperate with it. We must, as Wesley often said, “work out our own salvation with fear and trembling,” even as we trust that “it is God who works in us.”
So what does it mean to put on the armor of light? What does it look like to clothe ourselves with Christ?
It means adopting the character of Jesus – having the mind of Christ. Instead of quarreling, we practice peace-making. Instead of jealousy, we cultivate contentment and gratitude. Instead of reveling and excess, we embrace self-control and discipline. Instead of living for ourselves, we live for God and others.
It means engaging in spiritual disciplines. We can’t expect to grow in holiness if we never pray, never read Scripture, never worship with other believers, never fast, never give generously, never serve the poor. These practices are like putting on pieces of armor, one at a time. They don’t earn God’s favor—that’s already ours through Christ—but they position us to receive more of God’s transforming grace. They’re the means through which the Holy Spirit shapes us.
It means making intentional choices about how we live. Paul says, “Make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” In other words, don’t set yourself up for failure. If you struggle with certain temptations, don’t flirt with them. Don’t put yourself in situations where you’re likely to fall. Instead, arrange your life in ways that make holiness easier. Choose friends who encourage your faith. Fill your mind with what is true and good. Structure your time to include space for God.
This putting on of Christ is both a crisis and a process. There are moments of decisive commitment—when we say yes to Jesus, when we surrender a particular sin, when we dedicate ourselves to a new way of living. But there’s also the daily, ongoing work of becoming who God has called us to be. We put on Christ today, and we wake up tomorrow and put on Christ again. Every morning is a new opportunity to clothe ourselves in his grace.
IV. Our Active Role in Transformation
This brings us to a crucial point that Wesley emphasized throughout his ministry: God’s grace is irresistible in one sense—God pursues us relentlessly—but it requires our cooperation. We can resist it. We can refuse it. We have a choice.
Look again at Jesus’s words in Matthew 24:36-44. He describes two people working side by side—one is taken, one is left. Two women grinding meal—one is taken, one is left. What makes the difference? Readiness. Watchfulness. The choice to live in the light rather than stumble along in darkness.
This is both sobering and empowering. It’s sobering because it means we bear responsibility. We can’t blame our circumstances, our upbringing, or even our past mistakes for our failure to grow in grace. God has made provision for our transformation; the question is whether we’ll accept it.
But it’s also empowering because it means we’re not victims. We’re not passive objects acted upon by forces beyond our control. God invites us into partnership with him. He says, “I’m offering you my grace, my power, my very presence—will you receive it? Will you cooperate with what I’m doing in you?”
This is why Wesley urged believers to “expect to be made perfect in love in this life.” He wasn’t naive about human weakness or sin. But he believed that God’s grace was sufficient to genuinely transform us, if we would only yield ourselves fully to it. He believed that the journey from darkness to light was real, not merely theoretical.
What might happen if we took God’s promises seriously? If we actually believed that we could be freed from the sins that bind us? If we expected God’s transforming power to be at work in us? Not through our own effort, but through grace-enabled cooperation with the Holy Spirit?
The invitation is clear: Wake up. Cast off the darkness. Step into the light. Put on Christ. Cooperate with God’s grace. Be transformed.
V. Advent as a Season of Renewal
This brings us full circle to Advent. This season isn’t just about remembering an event that happened 2000 years ago. It’s about experiencing transformation now. It’s about personal and communal renewal. It’s about moving from spiritual slumber to vibrant faith.
Advent calls us to prepare. Just as John the Baptist cried out, “Prepare the way of the Lord,” we’re invited to prepare our hearts. To examine our lives. To confess our darkness. To open ourselves to God’s light.
Advent calls us to hope. Not the shallow hope of wishful thinking, but the deep, anchored hope that comes from knowing God is faithful. He who began a good work in us will bring it to completion. The light that has begun to dawn will increase until the full day.
Advent calls us to participate. We light candles week by week, watching the light grow. It’s a picture of what God wants to do in us—to increase his light in our hearts, to illuminate the dark corners, to guide our steps, to warm us with his love.
And Advent calls us to community. We don’t make this journey alone. We are the house of Jacob, called together to walk in the light of the Lord. We need one another—to encourage, to challenge, to support, to pray for, to hold accountable. The works of darkness isolate us; the armor of light unites us.
Conclusion
The night is far gone. The day is near. In Jesus Christ, God has broken into our darkness and offered us light. Offered us hope. Offered us transformation.
The question is: Will we receive it? Will we cooperate with God’s grace? Will we lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light? Will we put on the Lord Jesus Christ?
This Advent, let us wake from sleep. Let us be honest about our darkness. Let us trust in God’s promise of light. Let us actively participate in the transformation God offers. Let us walk together in the light of the Lord.
As Isaiah proclaimed and as Paul echoed, the invitation stands: “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” The journey from darkness to light is not always easy, but it is always worth it. And by God’s grace, it is possible.
May this Advent season be for each of us, and for all of us together, a season of genuine renewal. May we move from darkness to light, from slumber to wakefulness, from sin to holiness, from despair to hope.
The night is far gone. The day is near. Christ is coming. The light is breaking through.
Thanks be to God.
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Closing Prayer
Gracious God, we thank you for your gift of light that has come into our darkness. Thank you that you do not leave us in our sin but pursue us with your love. Give us courage to see the darkness in our own lives clearly. Give us faith to trust in your transforming power. Give us strength to cooperate with your grace. Help us to put on Christ, today and every day. Make us ready for your coming. In the name of Jesus, the light of the world, we pray. Amen.
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