one God and one mediator

My very favorite childhood movie is the original Pirates of the Caribbean. Toward the climax of that iconic film, when Captain Jack Sparrow is attempting to double-cross both Commodore Norrington and Captain Barbossa so that he can secure his freedom, his ship, and his revenge in one fell swoop, the Royal Navy soldier Murtogg asks, “Why aren’t we doin’ what—what Mr. Sparrow said? With the cannons and all?”

Commodore Norrington responds, “Because it was Mr. Sparrow who said it.”

Since I started writing out and publicly sharing my thought process for how and why I’ve shifted away from my long-held belief in strict complementarianism, I’ve had the privilege of participating in some fascinating conversations with both men and women on this topic—some of them in agreement (or at least open to agreement) with me, and some of them strongly disagreeing.

But one common, and unfortunately unsurprising, theme has emerged from these conversations which I think illustrates the insidiousness of the complementarian doctrine: Wise and God-fearing women are becoming suspicious of their own communication with God through the Holy Spirit solely “because it was a woman who said it,” as if the Holy Spirit can only speak and act in their lives through the umbrella authority of a man.

And that’s dangerous territory.

“For there is one God and one mediator between God and humanity, Christ Jesus, Himself human.”

1 Timothy 2:5 HCSB

For example, I’ve noticed that when Christian women talk about their role as wives or women of the church, they will invariably think of some instance where they weren’t “submissive enough” to male authority, and things didn’t go well for them. Even women I’ve spoken with who knew they were being called by God and equipped with His wisdom would see something go awry and think, “This is because I’m trying to lead, and I shouldn’t be, because I’m a woman.”

Or wives who have had serious reservations about their husband’s choices for their family would simply go along with it, things would turn out okay, and they’d think, “God blessed me because I obeyed my husband, even when he was being foolish.”

Thus, submission is no longer a beautiful opportunity for each of us to voluntarily imitate Christ toward one another (as Paul teaches in Philippians 2 and Ephesians 5), but rather a weapon that anyone can whip out to slash holes in a woman’s trust in the voice of the Spirit who dwells within her. It’s the serpent in the Garden all over again: “Did God really say…?” And to question the questioning just comes across as even greater defiance. So we are silenced.

But I’m done being silent, so I’ll ask anyway: What if some of the things that went wrong under the woman’s leadership happened not because she shouldn’t have been leading but because, unlike Barak when he followed Deborah, the men “under” her lacked the humility to follow her? Or because things simply go wrong sometimes, no matter who is in charge?

And what if God has called a wife to protect her home and family even when it means putting her foot down on her husband’s foolishness, like Abigail when she defied Nabal? What if wifely submission is actually not another facet of prosperity theology, directly proportional to the measure of your blessing?

When we teach that the primary role of women is subjection to men (at minimum, to their own husbands), we inevitably end up with men who feel very little need to actively seek the guidance of God (because it’s implied that they have God’s blessing on their decisions simply by being male) and with women who feel they need not only the guidance of God, but must also take the extra step of getting approval from their husbands or other relevant male authority figures. The ultimate result across the board is that the voice of God Himself is diminished or even dismissed.

Hear me when I say: A wife’s submission to her husband is good. A husband’s submission to his wife is good. Christians’ submission to fellow Christians, to Christ, and to worldly governments and authorities is good. Submissiveness, humility, and peacemaking are key characteristics of Christ and outworkings of the Spirit that Paul encouraged the early churches to strive for.

Pigeonholing all women into a place of perpetual, one-sided, mandated submission to their husbands and/or other men merely because they are women is not good. At best, it leads to an unhealthy hierarchical dynamic that makes it difficult, if not impossible, to reflect the full image of God. And at worst, it sets human men in the place of Christ as mediators between women and God, leading to deception, disobedience, abuse, and even idolatry.

Let us tread carefully.

as Christ loved the church

I’m married to a firefighter who is the son of a retired sheriff’s deputy. A couple of his cousins were/are in the U.S. military. Maybe it’s a trait of most men, or maybe their occupations give them a unique perspective, but one thing I’ve noticed that all of these guys have in common is a rather lighthearted way of talking about their own deaths.

My husband, for example, periodically remarks that I’ll be a rich widow if he dies on the job. He recalls how his dad used to joke that if he were to die unexpectedly at home, the family should put on his uniform and stage him in his patrol car to make it look like an on-duty death. His cousins would talk among themselves about the “cool” ways they hoped to die, if they must die in the course of their service.

I’m not surprised, then, that Christian men seem to like Ephesians 5 a lot more than Christian women do. Not only do Paul’s words make it easy to preach a divine calling for wives to be doormats, but they also give ample opportunity to paint men as spectacular heroes, knights in shining armor, Prince Charmings who get the glamorous mission of loving their wives “just as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her” (Ephesians 5:25).

Dying a “cool” death—a hero’s death—for your family? It’s right there in the Bible. What wife wouldn’t naturally want to defer to the lordship of such a man? What husband doesn’t deserve unconditional reverence, if this is his divine calling?

I’m no great music buff, but I can almost always clear a space in my brain for the music of alternative rock duo Twenty One Pilots. To my taste, they hit the sweet spot of catchiness, poetry, and depth. I find that there’s an apt Twenty One Pilots lyric for most occasions (along with a Jane Austen or Downton Abbey quote—what can I say, I contain multitudes).

Ephesians 5:25 and our glorification of sacrificial love to mean a hero’s death is, it turns out, one such occasion.

“I’d die for you” that’s easy to say
We have a list of people that we would take
A bullet for them, a bullet for you
A bullet for everybody in this room
But I don’t seem to see many bullets coming through
See many bullets coming through
Metaphorically, I’m the man
But literally, I don’t know what I’d do

- Twenty One Pilots, “Ride”

These few lines of rap are not about Ephesians 5 (well, I guess I’d have to ask Tyler to know for sure, but I rather doubt it). But they capture the dissonance between how Paul chose his words and how the Church often chooses to teach them.

Let’s review:

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her. . . . So husbands ought to love their own wives as their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself; for no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ also does the church, because we are members of His body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and shall be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.

Ephesians 5:25, 28-31

There is only one imperative in this section: “Husbands, love your wives.” The rest of the passage, including verses 26-27 which I’ve intentionally excluded*, is descriptive of Christ’s role in the Church and God’s good design for the sexes as outlined in Genesis 2:23-24.

*I have excluded verses 26-27 because, while they do go into greater detail on what Christ did for the church, they don’t add directly to what the husband is commanded to do for his wife. It’s as if Paul started talking about Jesus and got so excited by it that he had to expound on Christ’s work further—even though the contents of these verses are not part of his command to husbands. Christ alone sanctifies and cleanses the church, the whole church, including its women. Husbands are not told to do that work.

Paul included both of these examples for the singular purpose of arguing for the importance of his basic command. Contrary to how this passage is sometimes presented in our culture, “Husbands, love your wives” was an earth-shattering countercultural message for Ephesus, not a given or an afterthought. To convince the Ephesian Christian men that it was actually important to treat their wives as if they have value, Paul had to support his argument, and he used the example of Christ and the example of Creation to that end. These together make up the answer to the question:

How are husbands called to love their wives?

1. Following the example of Christ

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her.

This is where that glorious hero’s death image usually shows up. Instead of seeing Christ in the Garden, humbly healing the soldier after Peter impetuously cut off his ear, willingly giving Himself into the custody of the Romans; instead of watching Him silently stand an unjust trial, turn His cheek to His abusers, and carry His own method of execution to the site of His own brutal death—all of which Paul is referencing when he says “gave Himself up”—we insert a different set of images pulled from our own cultural zeitgeist: Harry Potter absorbing Voldemort’s Killing Curse; Gandalf the Grey fighting the Balrog to protect the Fellowship of the Ring; Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor enveloped by the brilliant white heat of the Death Star’s attack on Scarif just after transmitting the space station’s all-important plans to the Rebel fleet. These heart-wrenching moments of sacrifice play out over an epic musical score and make the whole idea of giving oneself up look truly glorious—even, almost, appealing.

It’s not that hard to think of people we’d take a bullet for. It might even be fun to imagine playing that kind of hero in our story, and using this trope can make the loving and peaceful values of the Kingdom of Heaven seem a lot more interesting. But as the Twenty One Pilots lyric goes: “I don’t seem to see many bullets coming through.”

When we make Ephesians 5 into a call for wives to become smaller and weaker while husbands become bigger and stronger, several sad things happen. Abusive dynamics increase. Avenues to safely and appropriately deal with such abuses decrease. Women are taught that their part of the bargain is an all-day-every-day command they must obey, while men are allowed many liberties as long as they’re prepared to take a bullet (literally or metaphorically) when the need arises—even if that never happens.

It’s easy to forget that when Paul said “Husbands, love your wives,” he was telling husbands to become like Christ, not to become like Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame.

In the Greek, “gave Himself up” does not mean “died.” Paul was not referencing Christ’s sacrificial death alone (although that’s undoubtedly part of the picture). The word means to hand over or to betray oneself. In essence, it means to give up one’s power. To humble oneself as Christ did: the Creator and King of the universe became a human “nobody.” He lived as a vagrant; He was eventually abandoned by nearly all of His friends and family; He was unjustly accused, arrested, and tried. He died the lonely death of a criminal.

He gave up His power and His rights. That’s how He loved the church.

Can you imagine what Paul would say if he knew his words were being used for the exact opposite purpose—to set husbands in a position of superiority and entitlement over their wives?

2. Following the example of Creation

So husbands ought to love their own wives as their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself; for no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ also does the church, because we are members of His body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and shall be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.

Ephesians 5:28-31

The final sentence in this passage, verse 31, is a direct quote from Genesis 2:

For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh.

Genesis 2:24

This is important. If you’ve spent much time in churches that place a high value on the study of the Scriptures, you may have heard it said, “Whenever you see a ‘therefore’ you need to figure out what it’s there for.” The “therefore” in this version is translated “for this reason,” but the principle holds. For what reason?

We can’t find the answer in Ephesians 5. We must follow Paul where he’s taking us—back to the beginning, back to God’s original design, back to Genesis 2.

Then the Lord God said, “It’s not good that the human is alone. I will make him a helper that is perfect for him.” . . . So the Lord God put the human into a deep and heavy sleep, and took one of his ribs and closed up the flesh over it. With the rib taken from the human, the Lord God fashioned a woman and brought her to the human being. The human said, “This one finally is bone from my bones and flesh from my flesh. She will be called a woman because from a man she was taken.” This is the reason that a man leaves his father and mother and embraces his wife, and they become one flesh.

Genesis 2:18, 21-24 CEB

The reason a man leaves his parents and is joined to a wife as one flesh? “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.”

In other words, when the first man sees the first woman, he recognizes her as a piece of himself. She is him—she came straight out of him. She is identical to him in nature and identity and role and value—in everything, except in her sex. She is his exact counterpart, his perfect partner, and—both literally and figuratively—his other half.

So it makes perfect sense for Paul to command husbands to love their wives as their own bodies. After all, “He who loves his own wife loves himself”—not in the shallow, self-centered sense of the old cliche, “Happy wife = happy life,” but in the profound Creation truth that God’s design for marriage was for two equal image-bearers to join together as one, together more perfectly reflecting the male and female attributes of God than either could do alone.

In the Greco-Roman culture of Paul’s day, it was common for women’s bodies to be seen as a flawed and deformed version of the male body, which was considered the ideal. Paul was, again, teaching the church something that would have blown their minds (and unfortunately, might still blow some minds in our churches today): Husbands, your wife is your equal, a perfectly designed and pricelessly valued human being created by God Himself to reflect His image.

Treat her like one.

The next line in the song goes like this:

“I’d live for you” and that’s hard to do
Even harder to say when you know it’s not true

In my thirty-ish years of observation in the various churches and communities I’ve been part of, I’ve known a lot of men who were probably ready to take a bullet. But the ones actually giving themselves up? That was usually the women—especially the wives and mothers.

I’m not saying they shouldn’t be doing it. Paul is clear that the command to subject ourselves to one another is mutual (Ephesians 5:21), and the entirety of Scripture is clear that the command to love one another is not limited to either sex. At the same time, we need to acknowledge that we often see the sacrificial love of a man as something completely different from the sacrificial love of a woman. We allow his version to be aspirations for a “cool” death, or maybe the exchange of 60+ hours of his week for pay, if we’re being generous.

But hers? Hers is expected to include the day-by-day, minute-by-minute offering up of her time, her career, her sleep, her physical body, her brain space, her dreams, her desires, her mental health, her interests, and even the food on her plate (if you have a toddler, you know what I’m talking about). On top of all this, she’s reminded with wearying regularity that it’s very important to her heroic husband that she stay young, pretty, thin, and sexually available. She might get a potted plant and an allusion to Proverbs 31 by way of a thank you at church on Mother’s Day, if she’s lucky.

This is so distant from what Paul envisioned when he was writing the New Testament—not to mention what Jesus envisioned when He came bringing the Good News of the Kingdom, or what the Creator envisioned when He formed humans in the Garden—that I want to weep on his behalf.

We’ve only been studying the portion of the passage that deals with husbands, but Paul’s message begins all the way back in Ephesians 5:18, with the initial command to “Be filled with the Spirit.” When the Holy Spirit of God fills two people who are in a marriage, there is mutual submission, respect, and sacrificial love. The wife lays down her own interests for her husband the same way she would expect to do for her God; the husband gives up his rights for his wife the same way he would expect to do for his Savior.

The husband treats his wife as his equal image-bearer and co-worker in the Kingdom. The wife treats her husband the same way.

They live out the Genesis design by recognizing that they are not opposites, but counterparts. Their union is not a hierarchy, but a team: the head needs the lifeblood supplied by the body and the body needs the animation made possible by the head. Their clearest testimony to the Good News of the Kingdom is to refuse to imitate any version of the Genesis 3:16 distortion of God’s plan—even one taught inside a church.

Jesus already died the hero’s death for us. Sure, there have been martyrs since, and will be martyrs to come—but the ultimate life-saving sacrifice has already been made. Our job now as husbands and wives, as men and women, as citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven, is not necessarily to lay down our physical lives, but to do the thing that is sometimes harder: to give up our very selves.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.”

Matthew 16:24

a poisonous doctrine

I recently asked a (male) proponent of complementarianism these questions: What is some beautiful, kingdom fruit you’ve seen complementarian theology bear for Christ? How have the women in your life, specifically, been blessed by it?

His answer was precisely the generic statement I expected: he talked about greater stability and less power struggle in the home, wives who were better loved/protected/contented, and children who had “strong guidance and a firm foundation.” Putting aside that I could point to dozens of examples of families who would fit that exact description from the outside while their members were suffering on the inside, I think his response reveals how utterly and completely the conservative Christian church has missed the point of Paul’s vision for marriage and family in the New Testament. In our service of the complementarian doctrine, we have killed and buried the kingdom ideal.

(Note: I use the pronouns “we” and “our” because I am currently, and have always been, a faithful attendee of a conservative Christian church. I was also until quite recently a complementarian. In writing this, I hope to acknowledge the ways I, too, have contributed to the problems I now see.)

A favorite passage cited by complementarians (including the one I was conversing with) is Ephesians 5:21-33. This is the famous “Wives, be subject to your own husbands” and “Husbands, love your wives” text that made books like Love & Respect by Emerson Eggerichs an unfortunate default for evangelical marriage and pre-marital counseling for an entire generation. The feeling for complementarians is, generally, that egalitarian thinkers are trying to argue with something Paul has very plainly stated. But is it so plain?

Countless incredible Greek scholars have already done the technical work in understanding the exact grammar and vocabulary Paul used in this passage (you can find one such overview here). I’m not here to throw around words like hypotasso as if I have any business doing so—rather, what I want to do is ask: What was Paul’s intent for the audience of Ephesians 5? And what, then, is the meaning for us?

We know that the Ephesian church existed in a highly stratified society. Men ruled the Greco-Roman world; women were a class beneath them, and children were lower still, followed finally by slaves. Everyone in the church at Ephesus knew where they fell on the spectrum of power and importance.

And then Paul said,

Be filled with the Spirit . . . submitting to one another in the fear of Christ.

- Ephesians 5:18b, 21 CSB

Greater stability, reduced power struggle, wives who seem to be more protected and contented, and children with firm foundations—it’s all exactly the kind of fruit I’d expect complementarian theology to produce. And I have two problems with that.

First, as I alluded to before, plenty of this fruit looks shiny, red, and juicy on the outside only to reveal a flesh of worms and rot when you bite into it. Of course there is more stability and less power struggle in a home where only one person—the husband/father—has the ultimate power. But is that a good thing? Are we looking for conflict-free marriages or for good marriages? I know from experience that they are not the same thing.

And of course the wives in these families appear “safe,” “protected,” and “contented.” They are operating under a religious requirement to defer to their men. If a wife felt unsafe with her husband, or even discontented within their relationship, what could she do with that information? Certainly not bring it to the attention of her husband or her complementarian church leaders!

And of course the children appear to be standing on a firm foundation. They have been raised on the belief that they are naturally evil and need to be emotionally (sometimes physically) beaten into submission. Do they dare even find out what might happen if they test boundaries, throw a tantrum, or assert their independence like developmentally normal children?

But my second problem is an even bigger one: This “fruit” doesn’t just miss Paul’s heart for Christian families and the church, it fundamentally opposes it.

Because in Ephesians 5 (and Colossians 3, and 1 Corinthians 7, and so on), Paul is not reinforcing the secular gender roles and power dynamics that have plagued humanity since the Fall. He is tearing them down.

Be filled with the Spirit . . . submitting to one another in the fear of Christ. Wives, to your own husbands as to the Lord, because the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, he himself is the Savior of the body. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her. . . . In the same way, husbands are to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.”

Ephesians 5:18b, 21-25, 28

Can you see it? Can you pull away the haze of complementarianism, set aside the words that aren’t even in the passage (“lead,” “obey,” “follow,” “authority,” “responsibility”), and see?

See the Roman man on his pedestal, all of society existing several notches beneath him. See him touched by the transforming power of the Spirit of God and suddenly he steps down so that he can better reach the hand of his wife to pull her up. See her, likewise transformed, refusing to become corrupted by this newfound status.

Can you see them now? They are standing together, one flesh, on level ground.

They are equals. And not only equals in worth with unequal roles, as some complementarians have tried to parse, but one unit. One flesh, head and body, each dead without the other, both halves of the whole image of God. One.

This may be a tough pill to swallow for a certain population of conservative American Christian, but Paul didn’t write Ephesians 5 to shore up the image of strong masculine leadership over meek wives and well-behaved children. He wasn’t worried about how good your family looks on Sundays, or any other day of the week.

And he certainly didn’t intend for it to be used as the sacred text of patriarchy.

Instead, he paints for us a picture of marriages that can be defined by a unified pursuit of Christ rather than a paranoia of usurpation; of women who see themselves with the value Christ’s sacrifice places on them, which no one can remove; of men who, imitating Christ, set their rights and power aside to raise up the oppressed and powerless.

It is stunning—because it’s a reflection of the ministry of Jesus in the Gospels, a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven on earth. And that makes truly beautiful kingdom fruit.

But we are never going to taste it, let alone get to share it with the hungry around us, if we continue to spend our energy defending a poisonous doctrine.