Rev. Rob Jones
September 1, 2026

To start our lesson, Paul gives us an unexpected instruction: "Owe no one anything, except to love one another." He is not offering financial advice; rather, he is showing us the kind of life that belongs to those awakened by God's mercy. The Christian way of life is not motivated by fear, pride, or a desire for self-protection. It is characterized by love, holiness, and hope since the night is coming to an end and the day of Christ is drawing near.

Love Is the Debt We Never Finish Paying

As I stated, Paul begins, “Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”

The phrase "except to love each other" is quite striking. One might think that some debts should be settled and then put to rest. If you borrow money, you should pay it back; if you make a promise, you should keep it; if you owe someone an apology, then you should offer it. But love is different; it is the debt that stays even after we have paid it today. 

We have all heard that joke about the “matter of fact” husband who says to his wife, “I told you I loved you on our wedding day. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.” We would all recognize the problem. Love cannot be reduced to a completed transaction. Love must be renewed, embodied, spoken, and practiced again and again.

That is Paul’s point. Christian love is not a small “emotional extra” added to the faith. It is the very shape of obedience. Paul lists several commandments: “You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet.” Then he says they are summed up in this word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

He is echoing the teaching of Jesus, who said that the whole Law and the Prophets hang on love for God and love for neighbor. Love does not cancel the commandments. Love fulfills them. Love is not lawlessness. Love is the heart of the law rightly understood. This matters because many people think of obedience as mere rule-keeping. They imagine God standing over them with a list, waiting for them to fail. Others react against that and say, “All that matters is love,” as though love means ignoring God’s commands. But Paul refuses both errors. True love obeys God, and true obedience is filled with love.

Love does no wrong to a neighbor. That is wonderfully simple and painfully searching. Before we ask, “What can I get away with?” Paul teaches us to ask, “What does love require?” Before we speak, we ask, “Will this build up or tear down?” Before we act, we ask, “Am I using this person, ignoring this person, envying this person, or serving this person?”

Augustine famously wrote, “Therefore hold fast love, and set your minds at rest,” but he did not mean that love gives us permission to sin. He meant that when our loves are rightly ordered toward God, our actions begin to flow from that love. The problem is not that we love too much, but that we often love mistakenly. We love comfort more than holiness. We love reputation more than truth. We love control more than mercy. We love ourselves more than our neighbor.

Paul is calling us back to the love of God poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. This love is patient when we would rather be sharp. It is generous when we would rather keep score. It is truthful when lies would be easier. It protects the marriage bed, the life of the neighbor, the property of another, and the heart from coveting what God has not given.

Paul’s point is simple: if we belong to Christ, we are never finished loving. Every morning, the debt remains. Every conversation, every conflict, every neighbor, every enemy, every family member places before us the question: “How does the love of Christ call me to act here?”

Holiness Is the Clothing of Those Who Belong to the Day

Paul then says, “Besides this you know the time, how it is now the hour for you to wake from sleep.” The image changes from debt to dawn. Paul says the night is far gone; the day is at hand.

This is one of the great pictures of the Christian life in the New Testament. We live between the darkness of this present age and the full daylight when Christ comes again. The sun has not yet fully risen, but the first light has already broken over the horizon in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Think of a town in the early morning before sunrise. Some people are still sleeping. Some are stumbling home from the night before. But others are awake. The farmer is already in the field. The baker has already lit the oven. The watchman sees the color changing in the sky. The day has not fully arrived, but its coming has already changed how they live.

Paul says that is the church. We are people of the coming day. Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. That does not mean we were not saved right now. It means our sanctification is ongoing. Every passing hour brings us nearer to the day when faith becomes sight, sin is no more, and Christ makes all things new; when we stand before the throne of our loving God. 

Paul doesn’t stop there; he continues, “Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”

Notice the urgency. Paul does not say, “Gradually wake up, once you’ve had your coffee.” He says, “Wake up.” Cast off the works of darkness. Put on the armor of light.

Then he names the works of darkness: celebrations and drunkenness, immorality and sensuality, quarreling and jealousy. Some of those sins sound scandalous and public. Others sound ordinary and respectable. Drunkenness and immorality may shock us, but quarreling and jealousy can hide in church clothes. Paul places them together because they all belong to the night.

A person can be outwardly moral and still live in the darkness of envy. A person can avoid obvious scandal and still be ruled by resentment. A church can condemn the sins of the culture while quietly tolerating bitterness, gossip, rivalry, and pride. Paul does not let us divide sins into those we dislike and those we excuse. He says the whole wardrobe of darkness must be taken off, removed with haste.

An old story, often associated with Augustine though probably originally told by Ambrose of Milan, tells of a converted youth who, when confronted by a former mistress, “Augustine, it is I!” Her call is met with, ‘But I am not the former I.’ Whether or not the story can be attributed to the life Augustine himself, it captures a deep Christian truth. In Christ, the old self no longer has the final claim. The person who belonged to the night has been awakened by grace.

This does not mean temptation is gone. Paul would not tell believers to cast off the works of darkness if there were no real threat. But it does mean that the night no longer holds us. We are not bound to obey the old habits. We are not required to nurse the old grievances. We are not compelled to run back to the old places of concealment. Daylight is drawing near. Christ has been raised. The Spirit has been poured out. Therefore, Paul tells us, live as people who have been awakened.

Christ Himself Is the Armor We Must Put On

Paul’s final command is the center of the passage: “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” This is more than “try harder.” Paul does not merely say, “Put on better habits,” though habits matter. He does not merely say, “Put on moral discipline,” though discipline matters. He says, “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” That is a tailor-made outfit, crafted just for you!

Christ himself is our covering, our identity, our defense, and our strength. We do not stand before God dressed in our own distinction. We stand clothed in Christ. We do not fight sin with our own cleverness. We fight united to Christ by faith. We do not love our neighbor from an empty well. We love because Christ first loved us.

John Calvin wrote that to put on Christ is to be surrounded by his power and formed by his Spirit, so that his life becomes visible in ours. This is the Christian life is union with the Savior.

Paul also says, “Make no provision for the flesh.” That is practical and direct. Do not feed the sins you are asking God to kill. Do not keep supplies for the enemy in the basement. Do not pray for holiness while arranging easy access to temptation.

If anger is your weakness, do not rehearse imaginary arguments. If lust is your weakness, do not keep paths open to secret indulgence. If envy is your weakness, do not spend your life measuring your blessings against someone else’s. If gossip is your weakness, do not linger over conversations that make sin sound like concern.

A wise homeowner does not leave the door open at night and then wonder why thieves came in. Likewise, a wise believer does not make provision for the flesh and then act surprised when the flesh grows stronger. But again, the heart of the command is not merely avoidance. The heart is Christ. Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.

This brings us to Jesus’ own ministry. In Romans 13, Paul commands us to love our neighbor, walk in the light, and put on Christ. Jesus did all of this perfectly. He loved his neighbor as himself. Even when reviled, he did not revile in return. There was no darkness in him. He was tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. He did not gratify the flesh. He did not seek comfort over obedience. He did not choose popularity over truth. He set his face toward Jerusalem.

And on the cross, the darkness fell over the land. The righteous One entered the judgment we deserved. He bore the curse for lawbreakers, the shame of the unloving, the guilt of those who preferred darkness to light. But that is not the end of the story. No, on the third day, the morning came. His resurrection is the first light of the new creation. The day that Paul says is “at hand” has already begun in him.

So, wake up and put on Christ.

Do not wait for a more convenient season to forgive. Do not wait until your heart feels warm before you serve. Do not wait until temptation becomes easy to resist before you cut off provision for the flesh. Do not live as though the night will last forever. Paul says the day is at hand, and the debt of love is due now.

If you have wronged someone, seek peace. If you have neglected someone, move toward them in love. If there is a sin you have been feeding, starve it. If there is a pattern of darkness you have tolerated, cast it off. And above all, do not try to do this unclothed. Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Remember your baptismal identity: you belong to the crucified and risen Lord. Remember His promise: he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion. Remember His mercy: there is forgiveness for sleepy saints who wake again. Remember His power: the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is at work in those who belong to him.

The world around us often lives as if dawn will never come. It eats, drinks, envies, quarrels, uses, and consumes. But we are called to be a sign of the coming morning. To pay the debt of love by loving when others keep score, forgiving when others take revenge, walking in holiness when others laugh at restraint, and clothing ourselves with Christ when others dress themselves in pride. It’s not easy, and we can’t do it by ourselves; we need the clothing that is Christ.

Does that describe you? Can you say, “I cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light?” Let us owe no one anything except the debt we gladly carry until glory: to love one another in the name of Jesus Christ, who loved us, gave himself for us, and will come again to bring the full and final day. I will leave you to contemplate this in your heart and measure it by the Spirit. Amen.