Do I have to go on?
Several years ago I was talking with the man who was repairing my car, and he mentioned that he had a girlfriend. I asked him how they met and how long they’d been together. He said that she lived in another state and they had just met in an internet chat room. I was thinking, Oh please, like there is any chance of this ever going anywhere.
Today, eight years later, they are happily married with two kids.
But back to the start of my story. They began “dating,” and then she packed up and moved to our city to be near him. They decided to get married, I agreed to do the ceremony, and we all agreed that my wife and I would do the premarital counseling.
In one of the sessions, we were talking about serving our spouses and taking care of their needs and putting them first, and he said, “I just don’t know if I can do this.” We began to probe as to why the discussion, which seemed so clear, was so hard for him. After some discussion and questions and probing, he finally said that he knew what the problem was.
“I just love mountain biking.”
Which wasn’t exactly what we were expecting him to say.
As we began to sort it out, he said that he was terrified that if he got married, his wife might not let him buy new mountain-bike gear and ride the trails near where they were going to live.
As always, this is really about that.
The word that came to my mind at that moment was the word submit.
Not her submitting to him.
Him submitting to her.
He didn’t know if he could submit. Because submitting is serious. Submitting is difficult.
And it’s the only hope a marriage has.
I’m aware that I am using a volatile word here, one that’s been used to cause great harm to women and consequently marriages and even men. The danger is that in reaction to the abuses and distortions of an idea, we’ll reject it completely. And in the process miss out on the good of it, the worth of it, the truth of it.
The word submit occurs only a couple of times in the Bible, most notably in the letter to the Ephesians, chapter 5. The section begins in verse 21 with the command, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”1
The word submit is the Greek word hupotasso, and it’s actually two words stuck together: the word upo, which means “under,” and the word tasso, which is translated “to place in order.” To submit means “to place yourself under, to give allegiance to, to tend to the needs of, to be responsive to.” Some scholars believe it originated as a military term, in the sense that when soldiers submit, they place themselves under their commanding officer. The passage says we are to place ourselves under one another out of reverence, or respect, for Christ. This reference to Jesus calls us to follow his example, his sacrifice, his giving his life for ours. As it’s written in the book of John, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son.”2 At the heart of the worldview of a Christian is the simple truth that people are worth dying for.
I was in New York City last week and took some friends to see Ground Zero. It’s hard to explain what it’s like to be there. A haunting sadness seems to linger in the air. But the actual site where the towers collapsed is not the most powerful thing for me about visiting the site. What moves me is to walk several blocks in any direction and pass the firehouses, where there are memorials to the firefighters from those neighborhood stations who lost their lives climbing up the towers to save people. Why do the flowers and plaques and mementos out on the sidewalk stir us like they do? Why do we hear stories of people risking their lives to save others and we often tear up, even if we don’t know any of the people involved?
Because people are worth dying for. We know it to be true deep in our bones. And when we see someone actually do it, it’s overwhelming.
Jesus said in one of his teachings that there’s no greater love a person can have than to lay down their life for another.3
We know this to be true.
People are worth dying for.
The You’s Are Plural
So the teaching of the passage in Ephesians is to love and serve the people around you, placing their needs ahead of your own, out of respect and reverence for Jesus, who gave his life for us, the ultimate act of love and sacrifice. Die to yourselves, so that others can live. Like Jesus.
This passage is being written to a church, to a group of people. The “you” here is plural, meaning many people are being addressed with these words. This church is being taught how to live together in such a way that when people observe their lives together, they will see what Jesus is like.
In Greek, the passage continues with verse 22: “Wives, to your husbands as to the Lord.”
Did you notice that a word is missing?
We’re missing a verb. The word submit is not in the verse. You have to go looking for the verb, which is in the verse before it.
The wife isn’t commanded to do anything different from what everybody is commanded to do in the previous verse, namely submitting. Placing the needs of others ahead of her own, especially in her most significant relationship—the one with her husband.
Verse 23 is next: “For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior.”
The word head is the word kephale in the Greek language. We could spend hours analyzing exactly what it means, but the larger point is that the husband is supposed to be like Christ. And what does that look like?
Notice how the text continues. Verse 24 repeats the submit command, and then verse 25 reads, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.”
Christ’s “headship” comes from his giving himself up for the church.
His sacrifice.
His surrender.
His willingness to give himself away for her.
His death.
Whatever authority the word head carries with it is rooted in the sacrifice of Christ, and therefore the sacrifice of the husband.
So the husband is commanded to lay down his life for his wife, and the wife is commanded to submit to her husband, but they’re both commanded to submit to each other because everyone is commanded to submit to everyone else, and all of this is out of “reverence for Christ.”
Will You?
Head spinning yet?
There’s a lot here, and it centers around a paradox.
Several years ago, I met with a couple who had been married a short time and needed some spiritual direction. Their marriage was falling apart, and the week before, in the midst of a heated argument, he had hit her. As you can imagine, the meeting was tense from the start. It soon degenerated into an argument between them, with their voices getting louder and louder and their words getting more and more hurtful. At one point the husband got so angry that he looked at me and said, “Do you see what I mean? She won’t submit!”
To which I replied, “Will you?”
Which didn’t exactly calm him down.
He wanted her to submit, whatever that means, without his having to die. He was essentially waiting for her to obey him, as a dog would, and then his will would be accomplished. I have seen this countless times in marriages. The husband has some warped idea that he is supposed to be the leader, which means she’s supposed to do what he says. And then he gets frustrated when things don’t go his way. And in some cases, he actually uses verses such as these in Ephesians as his reason why things aren’t working.
But none of that is what this text is all about. The husband’s waiting for the wife to submit is actually a failure to lead. He thinks he’s the strong leader, but he’s actually weak and misguided. If he really thinks he’s the head, then he would surrender his desires and wants and plans. He would die to his need to be in control and do whatever it takes to serve her, to make sure she has everything she needs. He would die to himself so that she could live.
He would lay down his life for her, like Jesus laid down his life for the church.
This is submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.
How would she respond if it were crystal clear to her that her husband was placing her needs ahead of his own?
What if he had a habit of this?
What if she knew without a shadow of a doubt that his love for her was so great that he would give his life for her in the blink of an eye?
There are those who say, “Well, yes, that’s nice now and then, but what about the tough decisions? What happens when push comes to shove and somebody has to call the shots and make the tough decisions? What then?” I’ve actually had this encounter several times with men after I’ve taught on the man dying for the woman. It’s interesting how emotional men get when this verse is talked about. And “push comes to shove” is probably not the best way to frame the question . . .
Think about your friendships, the closest ones, the ones that have gone the distance. How often do you ask who is in charge? Do you ever find yourself questioning, “Where does the buck stop?”
No, it’s not even on the radar. Over time you’ve built up reserves of trust and love, and power and control become irrelevant. The healthier and more whole a marriage relationship is, the less you ask these kinds of questions. When people are truly living in what’s called “mutual submission,” you lose track of who’s in charge.
In a marriage, you’re talking about power and control only when something central to the whole relationship has fallen apart.
And once again, poetry comes to our rescue.
The woman says in Song of Songs, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”4
Which Is It?
She speaks a paradox. Two things are going on here. She’s giving. Giving herself away. Letting go. Losing herself in her lover. And yet she’s also getting something in return: the other person. Her lover, at the same time, has let go and fallen into her. There is something about losing yourself to another and their losing themselves in you at the same time that defies our ability to categorize. Healthy marriages all have this sense of mutual abandon to each other. They’ve both jumped, in essence, into the arms of the other. There is a sense of mutual abandon between them. If one holds back, if one refrains, it doesn’t work.
We see this again in First Corinthians, where it’s written, “The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband. The wife does not have authority over her own body but yields it to her husband. In the same way, the husband does not have authority over his own body but yields it to his wife.”5
So which is it?
Is his body hers, or her body his?
Who has the authority in this passage?
The only proper answer is yes.
Which is it? Yes.
“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”
But this paradox of mutual submission is only one of the profound things going on in this passage. The command to the husband is to love your wife “just as Christ loved the church.” On the first pass, it seems quite straightforward. But as we’ve seen before, words in the Bible are often loaded. In this case, the word love in the Greek language is a specific kind of love.
The word for love here is the word agape (ah-GAH-pay).6 We find the word all over the New Testament, and it’s generally used in the context of God’s love for people, as in John 3:16: “For God so loved the world.”
So the man is to love the woman, to “agape” her, like God “agapes” the world.
Agape is a particular kind of love. Love is often seen as a need, something we get from others. Agape is the opposite. Agape gives.
I was talking last week with a couple whom I’ve known for about four years. The wife has cancer. It came on strong, she received treatment, it came back, she received more treatment. If you have been down the cancer road yourself or with someone you’re close to, you know what I’m talking about. A roller coaster. Often when I run into this couple, they give me an update on how she’s doing, how their last visit to the doctor went, what the latest test scores were. She’s amazing—the strength of her spirit, her faith—but I’m always struck as well by his attitude toward her. His body language, the way he looks at her, his involvement with the doctors and the tests and the procedures—you can’t be around the two of them for very long before you become convinced he’d take the cancer for her if he could.
Agape.
Imagine a wife whose husband isn’t the man she wishes he was. He lets her down, again and again and again. She begins to withdraw, to retreat, and to hold his failures against him. If they are even capable of discussing the problems between them, often she will have a list of things she wishes he did. And so this puts him in an awkward position. If he does the things on the list, she won’t know why he’s doing them. Because it just comes naturally? Or because he’s trying to score points with her? From her perspective, his motives are unclear. And so she develops a scorecard, usually subconsciously.
If he’s good, she comes near, but if he fails, she stays at a distance. Her affection, her actions, and ultimately her love become conditional. Not agape.
Agape doesn’t love somebody because they’re worthy.
Agape makes them worthy by the strength and power of its love.
Agape doesn’t love somebody because they’re beautiful.
Agape loves in such a way that it makes them beautiful.
There is a love because, love in order to, love for the purpose of, and then there is love, period.7 Agape doesn’t need a reason.
Pulled into the Future
It’s written in the book of Romans that Christ died “while we were still sinners.”8 And in the letter to the Corinthians, it’s written, “Think of what you were when you were called.”9 And the prophet Jeremiah is told that God knew him and set him apart before he was born.10
Jesus reminds his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you.”11
People in the scriptures essentially are loved into their futures.12 Think of how many of us had encouraging or affirming or inspiring words spoken to us years ago about our worth, our value, our future, and how those words shaped us. We often carry those words of agape around with us our whole lives.
What if that woman, the one with the husband who constantly disappoints her, what if she treated him as if he already were the man she wishes he was? What if she agapes him exactly as he is, today, with all of his flaws? If you are him, which is more motivating: being reminded of all of your failures and shortcomings, or being loved as if you’re a great man?
This idea that we can be pulled into our futures appears throughout the Bible. Often the writer Paul starts with the underlying theology and foundation and then works his way to the practical examples of how to actually live these beliefs out every day. The book of Ephesians follows this pattern, with a compelling twist. The first three chapters are full of statements about who these Christians are, what their true identity is as followers of Jesus. Paul tells them they’re blessed, chosen, predestined, given, redeemed, forgiven, included, marked, been made alive, saved, raised up, seated with, created, brought near; they are fellow citizens, they are members, they are being built together.
It’s verse after verse of description of who they are in God’s eyes. For three chapters, Paul goes on about who they already are, what’s already been done for them, what’s already true. He doesn’t give his readers one command for the first half of the letter. He doesn’t tell them to do anything. He tells them who they are and speaks to them of their identity in Christ.
It isn’t until chapter four that anybody is told to do anything. Paul lays it out in this order because our understanding of how God sees us will shape everything about how we live. What we do comes out of who we believe we are.13
Agape shakes us. It’s too good to be true.
Or maybe you could say it’s good enough to actually be true.
It affects how we live, how we act, how we think about ourselves.
For God so agaped the world . . .
And so the man is commanded to agape the woman with the same kind of love that God has for all people everywhere.
It’s a big task the man is given, and it’s reflected in the number of words in the passage. In the Greek, the command for the woman is 47 words long, while the commands for the man are 143 words long. The onus here is on the man to love with the kind of love that will go all the way to death if it has to.
What if she were loved like this?
Do you realize that you are worth dying for?
You don’t need to give yourself away to someone who won’t give himself to you. You don’t need to use your body to get what you need. It’s a cop-out for not being a certain kind of woman—a woman of dignity and honor.14
Some women only know how to relate to men by making a series of transactions. They want to be wanted, and the man wants, well, the man wants what lots of men want. So they trade. Essentially they strike a deal with men, time and time again.
I have what you want, and you have what I want, so let’s make a deal. I need this, you need that.
Some women learn at an early age how to negotiate. They need to be loved, to be validated, to be worth something, and they discover that by giving a little of themselves to a boy, they get what they need in return. It’s a cycle, a pattern that can stay with them their entire lives.
Sex becomes a search. A search for something they’re missing. A quest for the unconditional embrace. And so they go from relationship to relationship, looking for what they already have.
This search is about that need.
But sex is not the search for something that’s missing. It’s the expression of something that’s been found. It’s designed to be the overflow, the culmination of something that a man and a woman have found in each other. It’s a celebration of this living, breathing thing that’s happening between the two of them.
Do You Realize?
You don’t need a man by your side to validate you as a woman. You already are loved and valued. You’re good enough exactly as you are. Do you believe this? Because it’s true. You have limitless worth and value. If you embrace this truth, it will affect every area of life, especially your relationship with men.
You are worth dying for.
Your worth does not come from your body, your mind, your work, what you produce, what you put out, how much money you make. Your worth does not come from whether or not you have a man. Your worth does not come from whether or not men notice you. You have inestimable worth that comes from your creator.
You will continue to be tempted in a thousand different ways not to believe this. The temptation will be to go searching for your worth and validity from places other than your creator.
Especially from men.
But you don’t have to give yourself away to earn a man’s love. You’re better than that. You’re already loved.
When you give too much of yourself away too quickly, when you show too much skin, you’re not being true to yourself.15 When you dress to show us everything, then in some sense we have all shared in it, or at least been exposed to it. There is a mystery to you, infinite depth and endless complexity.
As the woman says in Song of Songs, “My own vineyard is mine to give.”16 In the ancient Near East, a “vineyard” was a euphemism for sexuality. She is saying that she doesn’t give herself to just anyone. She is fully in control of herself, and she is not cheap and she is not easy.
Your strength is a beautiful thing. And when you live in it, when you carry yourself with the honor and dignity that are yours, it forces the men around you to relate to you on more than just a flesh level.
You are worth dying for.17
If you’re dating someone, what kind of man is he? Does he demonstrate that he’s the kind of man who would die for you? What is his posture toward the world? Does he serve, or is he waiting to be served? Does he believe that he’s owed something, that he’s been shortchanged, that he’s gotten the short end of the stick, that life owes him something? Or is he out to see what he can give? Does he see himself as being here to make the world a better place?18
These are the big questions that you need to ask yourself.
Take him to a family reunion. Do some sort of service project with him. See how he interacts with people he doesn’t like.
Does he have liquid agape running through his veins?
A friend of mine was engaged to a man, and some of her friends were not excited about them getting married. As the wedding day approached, one of her friends decided to say something to her. He said, “When a woman is loved well, she opens up like a flower.”
She broke off the engagement soon afterward. In one brilliant sentence, her friend taught her what agape is and what it isn’t.
What does he expect of you? Does he expect you to sleep with him when he hasn’t committed to you forever? Does he want all of you without his having to give all of him?
Can you tell him anything? Is he safe? Can he be trusted?
Can you open up to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, knowing that he will protect, not exploit, that vulnerability?
Are you opening like a flower?
When you live in your true identity, when you find your worth and value in your creator, when you live “in Christ,” in who you really are, you force him to rethink what it means to be a man.
Perhaps this is why the text talks about the man dying for the woman. This can be terrifying for a man. Committing to a woman for life is going to demand courage, fidelity, and strength he may not know he has. This is why some men take such pride in their sexual conquests. They’re desperately running from their fear that they don’t have what it takes to lay down their lives for a woman. Sleeping with lots of women gives them the feeling of being a man without actually having to be one.
Underground Girl
I was in London last year, riding the subway, and it was crammed with people. There was a group of kids, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, standing in the middle of the train. They were paired off—I think there were three couples. Or perhaps they were starting a local chapter of the happy hands club. They were all over each other. The couples, that is.
One of the girls in particular was fascinating to watch. It was clear that she loved being loved. Or whatever you would call teenage obsession. Her boyfriend was full-on groping her in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon in public, and it was clear to the rest of us on the subway that she was thoroughly enjoying it.
What was intriguing was the look on her face. She was so happy. And the happiness was obviously directly tied to her boyfriend.
What drives a girl to give herself to a boy at such a young age? What does she believe about herself? About him? About sex? About her worth?
What if she said to her boyfriend, “I’m interested in your character, your integrity, your honor—I want to find out what you’re made of. Are you brave? Are you courageous? Would you fight for me?”
What if she said, “I’m not going to sleep with you anymore because I want to know what, exactly, our relationship is based on”?
What if subway girl demanded that before she gave herself to subway boy, he had to prove that he was the kind of man who would lay down his life for her?
Would subway boy still want to be with subway girl?
Because she’s worth dying for.
Which takes me back to mountain-bike man sitting in my living room. He got it. It clicked. He came to this realization that if he was going to marry this woman, he had to take a leap. He had to jump. He had to trust that this mysterious paradox called mutual submission really is a beautiful thing to behold. He had to have faith that if he gave himself to this woman, all of himself, it would be worth it.
She would be worth it.
Because she’s worth dying for.
And as far as I know, he still rides his mountain bike.