Mutual Submission

Mutual Submission

Some passages of Scripture come with baggage. Ephesians 5:22–6:9 might carry more than any of them.

Take a brief look at history and you’ll see why this may be one of the most dangerous passages in the Bible. Husbands have twisted “wives, submit” into permission to dominate and control. Verses about children have been used to silence honest questions and excuse abusive parenting. Slaveholders quoted “slaves, obey your earthly masters” to defend the indefensible.

And it’s not just history. We all bring our own stories to this text. If you grew up in an unhealthy home, the word “submit” can put your nervous system on high alert. If “I love you” was followed by control or fear, it’s hard to imagine these words describing something beautiful. And if you’re not a Christian, this passage might be on your list of reasons why.

Here’s the idea that reframed everything for me: the danger is not in what Paul wrote, but in how it’s read. Just as a hammer can build a home or demolish a window, God’s Word brings life when it’s rightly handled — and spreads great harm when it’s wrongly wielded. Passages become dangerous when they’re detached from the bigger gospel story.

It starts with mutuality, not matrimony

In many Bibles, Ephesians 5:22 begins a new paragraph under a heading like “Wives and Husbands.” But headings and verse numbers were added centuries later by editors. In the original Greek, verse 22 continues the sentence in verse 21: “Submitting to one another in the fear of Christ, wives to your husbands…”

Paul doesn’t start with holy matrimony. He starts with holy mutuality. Submission here is mutual — not one-sided, not domineering, not hierarchical.

Then Paul does something quietly subversive. Household codes were common in the ancient world, but they spoke only to the man of the house; everyone else was talked about, never talked to. Paul addresses the wife before the husband, the child before the father, the slave before the master. He treats wives as disciples, children as responsible, slaves as moral agents — every person made in the image of God, with dignity and purpose.

What each of us lays down

Submission literally means “to arrange yourself under” — not forced obedience, but a willing posture chosen out of reverence for Christ. In a gospel community, everyone gives something up. The wife lays down self-rule. The husband lays down self-interest. The child lays down self-will. The father lays down self-assertion. The worker lays down self-pity. The boss lays down self-importance.

This is easier said than done. Our default settings fight against it. The consumer mentality treats people as resources to use; the crusader mentality treats people as rivals to beat. Both view submission as net loss. What happens when you submit and they don’t submit back? What if they take advantage of your sacrifice? What if they never change?

The principle and the power

The gospel answers with both a principle and a power.

The principle: our mutual submission flows from our reverence for Christ, not our reaction to people. There’s a drumbeat under every role in this passage — “as to the Lord,” “in the Lord,” “as you would Christ.” If our willingness to submit depends on the other person deserving it, we’ll always find an excuse not to.

One thing must be said plainly: if you are being abused, this passage is not God telling you to stay and endure it. Abuse is the opposite of everything Paul describes.

The power: the main command in this whole passage isn’t “submit” — it’s “be filled by the Spirit.” Ephesians 5:18–6:9 is one long grammatical flow, and the Greek makes the main verb unmistakable. Speaking, singing, giving thanks, submitting — these are what a Spirit-filled life looks like. Mutual submission isn’t merely an ideal to aspire to. It’s the fruit of a Spirit-filled life.

Which means the invitation isn’t to try harder. It’s to surrender deeper. This kind of life isn’t produced by stronger willpower; it’s produced by God’s presence. And it’s not a one-time decision — it’s a daily surrender.

So here’s the reflection I’m carrying into this week: where am I white-knuckling a relationship God is asking me to surrender instead? Maybe start there, with five honest words: “Fill me, Holy Spirit… again.”