Tuesday, August 26, 2025

Paul’s Radical Call to Love: Mutual Submission


Have you ever read a Bible passage and thought, That sounds a little outdated—but in the process you missed out on how revolutionary the thought was?

I think that is the case with Ephesians 5:21–33. On the surface, Paul’s words about wives submitting to husbands and husbands loving their wives can sound like they belong in another century. But if we could hear them the way the first Christians in Ephesus did, we would be stunned the new cultural standard the Apostle was setting for this group of Jesus Followers.


Paul wasn’t reinforcing the power structures of his day—he was turning them upside down.


Mutual Submission: A Shock to the System


Paul begins this section with a thought that would have stopped his readers in their tracks:


“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” (Ephesians 5:21)


In the Roman world, submission was what their culture was built on. We see this hierarchy laid out in the household code that he lays out following this sentence—slaves obeying masters, wives deferring to husbands, children doing exactly what they were told. We need to understand that the idea that everyone in the church should submit to one another was unthinkable.

If we focus on what Paul says about the roles found in marriage, he doesn’t undo them, but he reframes them. Wives are called to trust and respect their husbands “as to the Lord” (v. 22), this was not surprising. Within the larger Roman world, wives were expected to submit to their husbands. Wives submitting to their husbands was not counter cultural.

What was counter cultural is that husbands are called to love their wives “as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her” (v. 25). Paul spends time teaching husbands why this is important, because it was not assumed that husbands would love their wives. The husband’s responsibility was control. The Christian vision of marriage is that of mutual submission, and the way the husband submits to his wife is by loving her well.

It’s like a dance. The wife follows her husband’s lead, but his lead isn’t about control—it’s about sacrifice, like Jesus washing His disciples’ feet or dying on the cross.


Flipping the Household Code


In Paul’s day, philosophers like Aristotle had already written “household codes” explaining how the family should work. These codes always started with the paterfamilias—the male head of the household—who ruled over everyone. Wives, children, and servants were told to obey. The man’s job? Be in charge.


Paul starts in a way that sounds familiar—wives submit, husbands lead—but then he flips the script. Instead of telling husbands to simply “manage” their wives, he commands them to love their wives like Christ loved the church. That means sacrificial, self-emptying love. It means putting her needs ahead of his own. It means putting her needs and desires ahead of your own. It means doing what is best for the family. It means being willing to die for her.


In a culture where the man answered to no one in his household, Paul says: You submit, too. That’s not Aristotle. That’s Jesus. That is a radical and counter cultural teaching that we miss.


Why It Matters Now


We’re far removed from the Roman world, but these words still push against our instincts. Some people get stuck on “wives submit” and miss the weight of “husbands love.” Others bristle at the idea of submission entirely. But when we read Ephesians 5 through the lens of verse 21—mutual submission—it becomes clear: Paul’s vision is about love that gives, not power that takes.


Whether you’re married or not, the principle stands: In Christ, relationships aren’t about control, but about reflecting His humility. We serve each other because He served us first. We submit to one another because He laid down His life for us.


A Challenge


When you think about your relationships—marriage, friendships, church, workplace—what would change if you saw every interaction through the lens of mutual submission?


What if your first question wasn’t “How can I get my way?” but “How can I love like Christ here?”


This week, try it. In the moment when you want to win the argument, control the plan, or make the call—pause. Remember Paul’s words. Choose the path of humility.


Because in the Kingdom of God, greatness isn’t measured by how many people serve you—it’s measured by how willing you are to serve them.

Thursday, August 21, 2025

The Importance of Creating a New Culture

I recently revisited Rodney Stark’s book, The Rise of Christianity, which I heard Dr. Mark Moore recommend years ago. Rodney Stark (1934–2022) was a renowned sociologist of religion who served as a professor of sociology and comparative religion at the University of Washington for 32 years before joining Baylor University in 2004 as Distinguished Professor of the Social Sciences and co-director of the Institute for Studies of Religion. A self-proclaimed history buff, Stark combined his sociological expertise with a profound interest in historical analysis. 

Initially, I read the book assuming Stark was not a Christian, as he had described himself in 1987 as “personally incapable of religious faith.” However, I later discovered that by 2007, after joining Baylor, a Baptist university, Stark publicly identified as an “independent Christian.” He explained that he had come to faith through his extensive study of Christian history. Stark clarified that he had never been an atheist but had previously been best described as an agnostic. He consistently maintained a strong commitment to Western civilization, referring to himself as a “cultural Christian.”

The first chapter of The Rise of Christianity, titled “Conversion and Christian Growth,” introduced a concept that challenged my faith journey. Stark employs patterns and ratios to illustrate how Christianity’s growth aligns with sociological trends observed in other religions. This approach, however, makes Christianity appear almost ordinary, which unsettled me because I wanted to believe in its extraordinary growth. Initially, his rational choice theory, which views religious commitment through the lens of costs and benefits, felt too analytical, as though it missed the spiritual depth and uniqueness of the Christian faith.

What I really began to resonate with came in chapters 4 through 7, which shed light on Christianity’s unique nature in the first century and its profound transformation of the Greco-Roman world. These chapters confirmed my core belief that the resurrection of Jesus Christ revolutionized everything, forever altering the course of history. Stark effectively illustrates this through examples of Christianity’s positive influence. Chapter 4 delves into how Christians demonstrated compassion during epidemics, providing care and support to the sick and dying, while pagans often abandoned them. Chapter 5 explores how Christianity elevated the status of women, offering them dignity and community that paganism failed to provide. Chapters 6 and 7 examine how Christianity enhanced urban life, fostering networks of care and mutual support.

Stark concludes chapter 7 with a powerful statement: “For what they brought was not merely an urban movement, but a novel culture capable of enhancing the quality of life in Greco-Roman cities” (p. 162). This phrase, “novel culture,” really spoke to me. Jesus and the early Christians didn’t merely present a new belief system; they introduced a profoundly different way of life. In the diverse cultural tapestry of the Roman Empire, the introduction of a new deity or philosophy wasn’t unique, but a life that fostered hope in resurrection and new creation was revolutionary.

I believe insight holds a crucial lesson for the contemporary Church. Regrettably, the American Church has often prioritized “Christianizing” the existing culture rather than presenting a distinct alternative. Instead of offering a transformative way of life, we provide a diluted version of the world’s values with a Christian facade. The early Church’s example serves as a challenge to us, urging us to establish a new culture rooted in the hope of resurrection and love of Jesus, not merely a slightly modified version of what already exists.

Creating a new culture requires turning away from the old one—and that’s no small task. Many of us have grown too comfortable with a “Christianized” version of the surrounding culture, mimicking the world’s approach to entertainment, politics, and lifestyle while simply adding a layer of faith on top. We want to believe in Jesus, but often stop short of fully surrendering to His way of life. Yet the brokenness around us—evidenced by high rates of divorce, crushing debt, substance abuse, and sexual addiction—reveals a deep hunger for something more meaningful. Tragically, those who profess to follow Christ often reflect the same struggles, blending in with the culture instead of offering a distinct alternative.

Consider 1 Peter 1:17–19: “If you appeal to the Father who judges impartially according to each one’s work, you are to conduct yourselves in reverence during your time living as strangers. For you know that you were redeemed from your empty way of life inherited from your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of an unblemished and spotless lamb.” (CSB) 

Peter says that we have been handed an “empty way of life” from our ancestors. We cannot accept the “way of life” our culture gives to us uncritically, we have to measure it against the Bible. My hope and prayer is that we, as the Church, will recognize this futility and embrace a new way of living—one that demonstrates to the world the hope found in following Jesus.

Rodney Stark’s work, including his later reflections as a Christian, emphasizes this truth. His journey from agnosticism to faith, influenced by years of studying Christianity’s historical impact, reminds us that the evidence of Christ’s transformative power is compelling. Before his passing on July 21, 2022, at his home in Woodway, Texas, Stark continued to challenge assumptions about religion’s role in society. His legacy encourages us to think critically and live boldly as followers of Christ. May we take up the call to create a new culture, demonstrating the world a better way through the hope and love of Jesus.


Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Embracing Diversity with Humility



Have you ever caught yourself quietly labeling someone—strange, naïve, maybe even immoral—not because they’ve done something truly wrong, but simply because they didn’t do things your way?

It’s funny how quickly it happens. Someone approaches a situation differently than we would, and without thinking, our minds go into silent critique mode: What were they thinking? From there, it’s not a big leap to conclude they’re foolish, misguided, or wrong. The only “crime” they committed was failing to meet the unspoken standard in our heads.

The Bible has a word for this: pride. It’s that inner voice whispering, My way is best. My perspective is right. My values are superior. Once we buy into that, it becomes dangerously easy to judge, dismiss, and divide.

The irony? Most of us would agree that diversity—of thought, culture, personality, and background—is a gift from God. A world where everyone thought and acted identically would be dull, robotic, and stagnant. Yet the very differences we claim to celebrate often become the fuel for our harshest judgments.

Jesus Takes It Seriously

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said something that should stop us in our tracks:

“You have heard that it was said to our ancestors, Do not murder, and whoever murders will be subject to judgment. But I tell you, everyone who is angry with his brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Whoever insults his brother or sister will be subject to the court. Whoever says, ‘You fool! ’ will be subject to hellfire.”
(Matthew 5:21–22, CSB)

Jesus isn’t exaggerating here. He’s making the point that contempt, insults, and name-calling come from the same heart that fuels murder. They degrade the image of God in others, and they poison our own hearts in the process.

A Better Way

The Apostle Paul gives us a different standard:

Therefore I, the prisoner in the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.
(Ephesians 4:1–3, CSB)
Humility doesn’t mean abandoning truth or convictions. It means acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers, and that other people—different as they may be—are worth listening to, learning from, and loving.

It means pausing before we slap on a label.
It means trading the instinct to condemn for the discipline of curiosity.
It means seeing diversity not as a flaw to fix, but as part of God’s beautiful design.


Not every choice people make is wise or godly—but our first step shouldn’t be knee-jerk condemnation. God calls us to discernment rooted in love, not in pride.

Today’s Challenge

So this week, notice your labels.

Slow down before speaking.

Choose to listen before you judge.

And when you see someone who is different—in thought, in practice, in culture—thank God for the gift of diversity, and ask Him to help you respond with humility.

Because when we embrace diversity with the heart of Jesus, we don’t just tolerate differences—we reflect the Kingdom.

Monday, August 18, 2025

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Final Verdict and Future Hope


When Justice Applies to Everyone

In April 2013, a Michigan judge handed down one of the most unusual rulings of his career—against himself. Judge Raymond Voet had a posted policy in his courtroom: if a phone went off during proceedings, its owner would be fined $25.

During a prosecutor’s closing argument, Voet’s own smartphone started talking—loudly—asking for voice commands. Embarrassed, the judge silenced it as quickly as he could. But at the next recess, he fined himself $25. “Judges are human,” he said. “We’re not above the rules.”

That’s what real justice looks like—applied fairly, without favoritism, even to the one in charge.

Nahum 3 shows us the same truth about God. No matter how powerful Nineveh was, no matter how untouchable Assyria thought itself to be, God did not overlook their evil. His justice is perfect, consistent, and unavoidable.


When Evil Runs Its Course

Nahum describes Nineveh as a “city of blood,” built on violence, lies, and plunder. Ancient accounts tell of unspeakable cruelty—captives tortured, treaties betrayed, wealth stolen. Assyria’s power grew through deceit and terror, not justice and peace.

God’s verdict? Enough.

Nineveh would be exposed for what it truly was. Once feared, it would now be shamed. The empire that humiliated others would be humiliated itself.

And God reminds Nineveh of history: Thebes, a mighty Egyptian city Assyria once conquered, had seemed invincible too. But it fell. And so would Nineveh. What they had done to others would now return upon their own heads.

The Collapse of False Power

Nahum uses vivid images: 
Nineveh like ripe figs, falling at the slightest shake.
Its soldiers like locusts, swarming in greed but disappearing when danger comes.
Its leaders like sleeping shepherds, abandoning the flock.

The message is clear: the empire’s wealth, armies, and defenses would not save it. The wound would be fatal. And while Assyria’s victims had once wept in terror, now they would rejoice at its downfall.


Where We Fit In

What do we do with a text this heavy?

First, it reminds us that God deals with His enemies in two ways. In Jonah’s day, Nineveh repented—and God relented. But when repentance faded, judgment came. The same is true for us: we must continually turn our hearts back to God, pledging our allegiance to Jesus, or else we risk sharing Nineveh’s fate.

Second, Nahum points us to Christ. On the cross, Jesus absorbed the violence, humiliation, and exposure that sin produces. The taunts, the filth hurled at Him, the shame of being stripped bare—it’s the fate Nineveh faced, and the fate humanity deserves. But Jesus bore it in our place. He took on our judgment so that we could receive God’s mercy.

Without Him, Nineveh’s fate becomes our fate. With Him, we are delivered.


The Final Verdict and Future Hope

Nahum 3 is more than history—it’s a preview of God’s ultimate justice.

For the oppressed: comfort—God will set things right.
For the oppressor: warning—repent before judgment comes.
For God’s people: hope—the downfall of evil is certain, and the reign of God is forever.

As Laurie Braaten writes, “God’s people are called to live as though God’s justice prevails now, and trust that if not now, then in the final judgement the oppressors will receive their deserved punishment and the people of God will be vindicated.”

We live in that tension. We long for God’s justice now, but we hope in His final verdict. And as we wait, we worship, because in Jesus the victory has already been secured.


A Challenge for the Week

Take time this week to worship God for the hope we have in Christ. Thank Him that His justice is real, His timing is perfect, and His mercy is available now.

When life feels unfair, chaotic, or overwhelming, remember: God’s justice brings down the oppressor and delivers His people. Our future is secure in Jesus.

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