If his offering is a burnt offering from the herd, he shall offer a male without blemish…And the priest shall burn all of it on the altar, as a burnt offering, a food offering with a pleasing aroma to the LORD.

Leviticus 1:3-9

Leviticus is perhaps one of the most overlooked books in Scripture by Christians today. Its detailed and often perplexing regulations concerning sacrifices and the priesthood can feel alien and irrelevant to modern readers. As a result, we may not approach the book with much interest or we may simply ignore it. However, the book holds many rich treasures that strengthen our faith in Christ. One such treasure is the burnt offering.

Let’s set the stage first. God rescued Israel from slavery in Egypt and entered into a covenant relationship with them at Sinai (Exodus 1-24), then instructed them to build a tabernacle so that he could dwell with them (Exodus 25-40). With the tabernacle finished, the LORD spoke the content of Leviticus to Israel through Moses a month later (Lev. 1:1; cf. Ex. 40:1-2; Num. 1:1). The book provides laws for the nation so that they can be faithful members of God’s kingdom. These laws helped them show their faithfulness in two ways: First, they instructed Israel how to maintain fellowship with the God who dwelt with them. Second, they instructed Israel how to reflect God’s holiness so that they could fulfill their calling to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Ex. 19:4-6). In fact, the Hebrew title of the book is wayyiqra’, which means “and he called.” Our English title “Leviticus” is derived from the Greek Septuagint and means “concerning the Levites.” This title is misleading as the book concerns all of Israel, not just the priesthood. The first section of the book teaches the Israelites how to present five main sacrifices to the LORD: the burnt (1:3-17), grain (2:1-16), peace (3:1-17), sin (4:1-5:13) and guilt offerings (5:14-6:7).

What was the burnt offering? The burnt offering was by far the most costly because the entire animal was burned up on the altar; no portion was left to be given to the priest or shared with the worshiper. The burnt offering goes back to at least Noah’s day (Gen. 8:20). Abel’s sacrifice, though not called a burnt offering, may have been an early form. It checks a few boxes: “Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions. And the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering” (Gen. 4:4). Abel’s sacrifice was taken from the flock (Lev. 1:10), included the fat portion (12) and was accepted by God (“a pleasing aroma to the LORD,13). The ram caught in the thicket on Mt. Moriah which Abraham offered in place of his son Isaac was called a “burnt offering” (Gen. 22:13). Usually burnt offerings were made with an accompanying petition (1 Sam. 7:9-10) or word of praise (Psa. 66:13-15). The aim of the worshiper was to be “accepted before the LORD” (3)—the offerer desired God to hear and grant their request or accept their praise.

How were burnt offerings given? There were three acceptable ways Israelites could offer a burn offering, depending on their financial circumstances: one could make an offering from their herd—the most valuable (3-9)—but offerings from their flock (10-13) and of birds (14-17) were just as acceptable. Mary and Joseph offered birds when dedicating Jesus at the temple (Lk. 2:24; cf. Lev. 12:1-8). Offerings from the herd and flock were to be only males "without blemish” (3, 10), because an animal’s physical defects (22:22-24) would lessen the value of the offering, making it unworthy of the LORD (see Mal. 1:8). The worshiper would lead the animal to the “entrance to the tent of meeting” (3), “lay his hand on the head” so that it was “accepted” on their behalf (4) and slaughter it before the LORD (5a). The priests would then collect the blood, splash it against the sides of the altar (5b), skin and butcher the sacrifice (6), wash its entrails (9a) and burn the entire thing (9b).

What did the burnt offering achieve? It was a costly and bloody ritual that reminded Israelites of their sin in the presence of God. However, it also reminded them of God’s grace. The burnt offering made “atonement” for the worshiper (4). That is, the sacrifice achieved both expiation (the removal of sin) and propitiation (the appeasement of wrath). Sin is a rebellion against a holy and just God; it both corrupts and condemns. God graciously accepted sacrifices like the burnt offering on the sinner’s behalf—the life of the animal in exchange for the life of the worshiper—and purified the worshiper of sin.

But how can Leviticus say such sacrifices “make atonement” when the Hebrew writer explicitly says that “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Heb. 10:4)? Perhaps we can make sense of this by thinking of the sacrifice like writing a check—which God accepted but did not cash until Jesus came to pay it in full. God could forgive sin in the Old Testament in view of the ultimate sacrifice that was coming under the New. David understood the limits of the burnt offering and reasoned that all he could do was give the LORD his broken life and trust in his mercy: “For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” (Psa. 50:16-17)

What does the burnt offering mean for Christians? “When Christ came into the world, he said, “Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body have you prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come to do your will, O God, as it is written of me in the scroll of the book.’” (Heb. 10:5-7) The Hebrew writer, quoting from Psalm 40:6-8, explains that Jesus achieved what burnt offerings only symbolized. He came into the world, took on a flesh and blood body and gave his body as a sacrifice on the cross for us.

The burnt offering, a sacrifice in which the entire animal was consumed with fire on the altar, symbolized the worshiper’s total commitment to God. When asked what was the greatest commandment, Jesus responded with Deuteronomy 6:4-5, to love God with “all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” and to love your neighbor as yourself (Mk. 12:30-31). The scribe who asked Jesus the question responded, “You are right, Teacher… to love him with all the heart and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” (Mk. 12:32-33). This scribe was “not far from the kingdom of God.” He got it—he understood what God desired: our whole self.

Jesus exemplified this total giving of self to God and others in love on the cross. In him, we are purified and redeemed. Our sins are completely atoned for and there is no need for us to offer sacrifices to either appease God’s wrath (propitiation) or plead for his mercy (expiation). Jesus’ sacrifice has done it all (Rom. 3:25; Col. 1:14; 1 Jn. 2:2). Now we are to give ourselves as a “living sacrifice” to God out of love and gratitude (Rom. 12:1-2). A life of such sacrifice would be “a pleasing aroma to the LORD” (Lev. 1:9, 13, 17).

Then Samuel said to Saul, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?” Saul answered, “I am in great distress, for the Philistines are warring against me, and God has turned away from me and answers me no more, either by prophets or by dreams. Therefore I have summoned you to tell me what I shall do.”

1 Samuel 28:15

The account of the witch of Endor in 1 Samuel 28 raises several difficult questions: Was she truly able to summon the dead? Was the spirit that appeared really Samuel? Where did this spirit come from? And since the spirit tells Saul that he and Jonathan will “be with me,” does that suggest Saul was saved or lost?

The text does not provide definitive answers to every question we might ask. We know that the Law of Moses clearly condemned necromancy (Deut. 18:9-12). The Law called such practices abominations—it never claimed they didn’t “work.” We cannot infer from this text whether occult practices are effective or not. Regardless, would we expect the Bible to give saints detailed instructions on how to perform a seance? Clearly the text warns us against ever doing such a thing.

Perhaps your recollection of this story is a little cloudy. Here’s a refresher. Saul’s decision to seek out a medium was the result of a long spiritual and political decline. Over time, he had repeatedly disobeyed God’s commands—most notably by offering unauthorized sacrifices (1 Sam. 13) and by sparing King Agag and the Amalekite spoils (1 Sam. 15). As a result, God rejected Saul as king and withdrew his Spirit from him (16:14). Samuel, God’s prophet and Saul’s means of receiving guidance, distanced himself from Saul and eventually died (25:1).

Meanwhile, David, whom God had chosen to replace Saul, was gaining strength and popularity. By the time of 1 Samuel 28, Saul faced a massive Philistine army and was overwhelmed with fear. He sought guidance from the Lord, but God gave him no answer—neither through dreams, nor prophets, nor the Urim (28:6). Isolated and desperate for direction, Saul turned to the very thing he had once outlawed: he sought a medium to contact Samuel’s spirit. This act of necromancy marked the tragic low point of Saul’s reign, showing how far he had fallen.

Was the spirit that appeared really Samuel, or a demon impersonating him? The text strongly indicates that it was indeed Samuel. The message the spirit delivers (16-19) is entirely consistent with what Samuel had declared during his lifetime (cf. 15:17-19, 22-23, 28). Saul receives no new revelation—only a reiteration of the judgment he already knew. Some scholars suggest that the medium’s startled reaction (28:12) implies she was a fraud and did not expect a genuine encounter with a spirit. Whatever the case, it appears that God allowed a true manifestation of Samuel’s spirit through a forbidden means—not to endorse necromancy, but to confirm Saul’s complete rejection and the certainty of his impending judgment.

Where did the spirit come from? The text says that Samuel was “brought up,” suggesting he came from Sheol, the Old Testament term for the realm of the dead. When Samuel tells Saul that he and his sons will be “with me” the next day (28:19), he is simply stating that they will die and join him in death—he is not making any judgment about Saul’s eternal destiny. Therefore, we cannot determine Saul’s salvation status based on this statement alone.

What does this text teach the church today? To grasp its relevance, we must consider the broader narrative context. The previous chapter (1 Sam. 27) describes David’s moral and spiritual dilemma. Though living among the Philistines and serving as a mercenary under King Achish, David was secretly attacking Israel’s enemies—not Israel itself. But in 1 Samuel 28:1-2, the Philistines prepare to march against Israel, and David appears trapped. He cannot fight against his own people, yet his position with the Philistines is precarious. When told he will march with the Philistines against Israel, David replies enigmatically, “Very well, you shall know what your servant can do.” (28:2)

At this critical moment, the narrative abruptly shifts from David to Saul and his desperate visit to the medium at Endor (1 Sam. 28:3ff), the night before the battle. The author is intentionally placing these two crises side by side, inviting a comparison. David is among the Philistines but God is with him. Saul is facing the Philistines yet with no guidance from the Lord. As 1 Samuel 28:6 (also v. 15) states, “And when Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord did not answer him, either by dreams, or by Urim, or by prophets.” The two stories press the question upon us: whose sandals would we rather be in?

Saul’s greatest problem was not the Philistines—it was the silence of God. He stood on the eve of battle completely cut off from divine counsel. This contrast drives home a sobering truth: it is far worse to face life’s battles without the word of God than to be surrounded by enemies but still walking with him. For saints today, this passage warns us of the danger of drifting from God to the point that we no longer hear his voice in Scripture—and it reminds us that the presence of God is our greatest security, no matter how dire the situation.

Don’t get sidetracked by questions about whether necromancy works or whether Saul was saved. A.W. Tozer once said when asked whether Demas (2 Tim. 4:10) was ultimately saved or lost, “All I can say is that the last time we see Demas, he was walking in the wrong direction.” The same can be said of Saul. The final image we have is him walking into the night, cut off from God and his word (28:25). That should unsettle us. Fear doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, especially if it causes us to turn around and start heading in the right direction.

It happened at that time that Judah went down from his brothers and turned aside to a certain Adullamite, whose name was Hirah. There Judah saw the daughter of a certain Canaanite whose name was Shua. He took her and went in to her, and she conceived and bore a son, and he called his name Er. She conceived again and bore a son, and she called his name Onan. Yet again she bore a son, and she called his name Shelah. Judah was in Chezib when she bore him.

Genesis 38:1-3a

Genesis is divided into two sections. The primeval history (chs. 1-11) recounts the origins of the world, humanity, sin, and judgment, culminating in the Tower of Babel and the scattering of the nations. The patriarchal history (chs. 12-50) shifts the focus to Abraham and God's covenant relationship with his family, who would later become the nation of Israel. While there is some overlap, each patriarch has a primary narrative section in which he is the central figure: Abraham (11:27-25:11), Isaac (25:19-28:9), Jacob (25:19-36:43), and Joseph (37-50). Chapter 38 stands out sharply, interrupting the flow of Joseph’s story with the shocking and morally complex account of Tamar’s pursuit of justice.

First, let’s summarize the events of chapter 38. Judah separates from his brothers and marries Shua, a Canaanite woman—an inauspicious decision, especially in light of Esau’s disastrous choice to marry Canaanite women (26:34-35; 28:6-9). Judah has three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Tamar becomes the wife of Er, but Er is wicked and dies under God’s judgment. Following custom (later codified in the Law of Moses as the Levirate marriage law), Judah gives Tamar to Onan. However, Onan also dies after refusing to fulfill his duty to provide an heir for his deceased brother. Fearing for the life of his youngest son, Shelah, Judah does not give him to Tamar—despite having promised to do so.

Tamar, realizing she’s being denied justice, disguises herself as a prostitute and tricks Judah into sleeping with her. She becomes pregnant by him and, after three months, starts to show. People bring news of her pregnancy—and assumed immorality—to Judah, who responds with hypocritical indignation: “bring her out, and let her be burned” (24). But Tamar is ready to play her trump card. She produces evidence that proves that Judah was the man who impregnated her (his seal, cord, and staff). When confronted with his sin, Judah declares, “She is more righteous than I, since I did not give her to my son Shelah.” (26). The narrative concludes with Tamar giving birth to twins, Perez and Zerah.

What is the significance of this story and why does it interrupt the Joseph narrative? To answer this question, let’s ask three more questions!

What do we learn from Judah? In chapter 38, Judah is presented as a moral failure, which helps explain why this chapter interrupts Joseph’s story. Judah stands in stark contrast to righteous Joseph: while Judah pays to engage in sexual immorality, Joseph resists temptation and flees from Potiphar’s wife; while Judah fails his family by denying Tamar an heir, Joseph preserves his from extinction during a time of famine. By highlighting Judah’s moral failings, the author of Genesis emphasizes Joseph’s integrity.

But Judah’s story doesn’t end in disgrace. This low point sets the stage for his transformation later when he steps forward with selfless leadership, offering himself in Benjamin’s place (ch. 44). Ultimately, Judah is chosen to be the ancestor of kings (49:10) and is included in the genealogy of the Messiah (Mt. 1:3), showing how God can redeem even the most broken lives for his purposes.

What do we learn from Tamar? While Tamar is not presented as a moral example (she intentionally deceives and manipulates Judah), she is presented sympathetically. Denied justice and left vulnerable in a culture that offered little protection or status to childless widows, she acted resourcefully to secure her rightful place and future. Judah spoke rightly when he said, “She is more righteous than I.”

Tamar’s inclusion in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus highlights her significance as part of a broader pattern: God working through the marginalized and overlooked. She is one of only four women named in Christ’s lineage—Tamar, Rahab, Bathsheba, and Mary—a striking detail, since Jewish genealogies typically excluded women. Notably, each of these women was associated with some form of scandal or social stigma, whether real or perceived. Tamar’s story is undeniably sordid, yet Scripture neither hides nor sanitizes it. Instead, it shows God’s redemption, weaving the story into the larger narrative of his grace—a grace that would one day be revealed in Christ, the Savior of the downtrodden and forgotten.

What do we learn from Perez? When Tamar was in labor with her twins, the midwife tied a scarlet thread around Zerah’s hand to mark him as the firstborn, but before Zerah was fully born, his twin brother emerged ahead of him. Tamar named him Perez, meaning “breach” or “breaking out.”

By this point in Genesis, the reader is well acquainted with the pattern of God choosing the younger over the older, overturning human customs and expectations—Abel over Cain, Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau, and now Perez over Zerah. Perez’s birth becomes a vivid symbol of the divine reversals so often seen in God’s redemptive work. God brings his promise forward—even through broken, messy, or unlikely circumstances. His eternal purpose overcomes every obstacle: a vulnerable widow denied justice, a patriarch caught in multiple transgressions, or a second-born son in a culture that prized the firstborn. And in the greatest reversal of all, it is through Perez, not Zerah, that David—and ultimately Jesus the Messiah—would come (Mt. 1:3).

Genesis 38 may seem like an literary interruption, but it is actually a deliberate juxtaposition enhancing themes of sin, redemption, and providence. The chapter serves as a striking contrast to Joseph’s righteousness, highlighting Judah’s moral failure while preparing us for his eventual transformation. It introduces the beginning of Judah’s redemptive arc, a journey from selfishness to sacrificial leadership. At the same time, the story reveals God’s grace toward victims of injustice, as seen in his vindication of Tamar. It stands as another example of how God often works through the unexpected, choosing unlikely people and broken situations to accomplish his purposes. Ultimately, Genesis 38 preserves a lineage of grace, reminding us that God’s redemptive plan advances not because of human perfection, but by his grace and wisdom.

Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Ephesians 5:18-21

In last week’s article, we began with the text above to explain the concept of Christian submission. This week, let’s back up and give this text a fuller treatment. Paul has already stated in his letter to the Ephesians that they were “sealed with… the Holy Spirit” (1:13) and warned them not to “grieve the Holy Spirit” with ungodly behavior (4:30). Now he tells them to be “filled with the Spirit” (5:18). Chapter 5 began with a call to “imitate God” (5:1-2). What better way to do this than be filled with God’s Spirit? The passage falls into two main parts: the influence of the Spirit (18) and the evidence of the Spirit (19-21).

First, the influence of the Spirit (18) — Paul cleverly compares the effects of wine with the effects of the Spirit. One who is filled with wine is “drunk.” We sometimes say they are ‘under the influence’ of alcohol. This leads to reckless and immoral behavior, the loss of control and good judgment (“debauchery”). Conversely, one who is filled with the Spirit is under the influence of the Spirit. But being under the power of God is unlike being drunk. Through the Spirit, we do not lose control, we gain it (“self-control” is an aspect of the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23). But what does it mean to “filled with the Spirit”?

Notice a few grammatical details about the phrase:

1. It is in the imperative mood, that is, it is a command. It is not optional but obligatory. This teaches us that being "filled with the Spirit" is not an emotion that simply takes over or comes and goes at will. We have a choice in the matter.
2. It is in the plural form, that is, it is addressed to the entire church not just a select few. Being “filled with the Spirit” is not an elitist privilege but a prerogative for all Christians.
3. It is in the passive voice, meaning we are to allow the Spirit to fill us. The implication of the passive voice is that we can either hinder or permit the Spirit’s work within us. Through repentance and faith, we can clear the way for the Spirit so that nothing prevents him from filling us. But if we “grieve the Spirit” (4:30), we hinder his influence.
4. It is in the present tense. Being “filled with the Spirit” is not a single event but a continuous action. We are to “go on being filled with the Spirit,” continuously being renewed through ongoing trust and obedience to the Spirit. While it is true the Ephesians have already been “sealed with the Spirit” (1:13), they need to “go on being filled” everyday until they mature into perfect Christ-likeness (4:13).
5. It is through the word. Practically speaking, how does one go on being filled with the Spirit? Colossians 3:16, while not identical with Ephesians 5:18-21, is parallel: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” Comparing the Ephesians passage with the Colossians passage reveals a fuller understanding of what Paul means by the phrase “filled with the Spirit.” The Spirit fills and influences us through the word he revealed (Eph. 3:5; 1 Cor. 2:6-13). We must never separate the power and influence of God’s Spirit from God’s word. The word is the vehicle through which the Spirit guides us. Therefore, to obey God’s word and to be guided by the Spirit are virtually identical in practice.

The evidence of the Spirit (19-21) — The apostle lists four results of being Spirit-filled:

1. Fellowship: “addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” (19a). Being filled with the Spirit results in expressions of fellowship in the context of public worship. When we gather together, we sing songs both to God and to “one another.” Those songs are filled with biblical texts and themes that not only praise God but exhort and teach each other, helping us grow closer together and to God (Col. 3:17).
2. Worship: “singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart” (19b). Both the tune that we sing and the melody we make together are with our “heart,” not merely with our voice. This refers to the sincerity of our worship to God (Jn. 4:24). Our faith in God is to spill out into genuine praise when we sing spiritual songs together.
3. Gratitude: giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (20). Instead of grumbling like Israel in the wilderness, the person who is “filled with Spirit” gives thanks “always” (at all times, in good/bad circumstances) and “for everything,” not literally everything, but all things which are consistent with Jesus and his will (“in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ”). If gratitude is an evidence of the Spirit’s presence then ingratitude is the proof of his absence.
4. Submission: submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ (21). One who is “filled with the Spirit” is not egotistical or self-assertive but humble and submissive. Why? Not because they are coerced to submit nor because others always deserve their submission. Rather Christians submit to one another “out of reverence for Christ.” That is, we submit to others freely for Christ’s sake because he submitted himself to the Father’s will for our sake. Jesus’ voluntarily submission to the Father is our model. Out of reverence for his Father, Jesus, the obedient Son, served us who are unworthy. We are to do same for others. Mutual submission is a key way we imitate Christ. Paul develops this in the next section (5:22-6:9) which we covered last week.

Basically, being “filled with the Spirit” means to be influenced by the Spirit. In the first century, this influence could be supernatural and manifest itself in bold speech, prophecy, visions and miracles (Lk. 1:15, 41, 67; 4:1; Acts 2:4; 4:8; 9:17; 13:9). When used in this way, God filled his servants with his Spirit to accomplish a specific task (Jdg. 14:6, 19; 1 Sam. 10:10; 11:6). However, being “filled with the Spirit” usually manifests itself in one’s godly character and behavior. For example, Stephen and Barnabas are both described by Luke as being “filled with the Spirit” because of their maturity, wisdom and faith (Acts 6:5; 11:24). They had allowed the Spirit to work in their lives by continuing to worship God, serve others and obey God’s word. This is how Paul uses the phrase in Ephesians 5:18.

Being Spirit-filled should be obvious. How apparent are the concepts of fellowship, worship, gratitude and mutual submission in your life? How evident are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control? (Gal. 5:22-23)

…Be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Ephesians 5:18-21

The concept of submission is a tough pill to swallow for many of us. Our cultural emphasis on autonomy and personal freedom, historic abuses of authority, the modern ideal of equality and widespread misunderstanding of biblical submission all contribute to our general aversion to the idea. Yet the way Paul addresses the issue is instructive and surprising—especially to his first-century audience.

In his letter to the Ephesians, the apostle Paul outlines the new standards God expects of his “new humanity” in Christ (4:1-5:21). Two primary qualities characterize his new community: spiritual unity (4:1-16) and moral purity (4:17-32). He provides motivations for living according to these standards (5:1-21). In the passage above, he describes what the Spirit-filled life looks like—it is marked by heartfelt worship, gratitude to God and mutual submission. That final element, mutual submission within the church, provides a natural bridge to his next topic: how relationships function under Christ (5:22-6:9).

Paul explores three relationship pairs: wives and husbands (5:22-33), children and parents (6:1-4) and slaves and masters (6:5-9). In each case, one party is in a position of authority and the other in a role of submission. Notably, Paul addresses those in submissive roles first: wives are told to submit to their husbands (5:22), children to obey their parents (6:1), and slaves to obey their masters (6:5). The command in 5:21 to “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ” forms the theological foundation for each of these instructions. We are to render submission to those in authority ultimately because of our own reverence for Jesus. Even when those in authority are undeserving of honor, Christians show submission as an expression of their devotion to Christ.

Abuses of authority— The idea of submission grates against contemporary attitudes toward freedom. Today, submission is often equated with weakness and authority with oppression—understandably so, given the many historical abuses of power. Modern liberation movements have done immense good in freeing women from oppression, children from exploitation, and workers from unjust treatment, not to mention the abolition of the transatlantic slave trade. Nothing Paul says contradicts these values. In fact, he affirms three foundational truths:

1. The dignity of womanhood, childhood and servanthood.
2. The equality of all human beings made in the image of God.
3. The unity of all Christians, regardless of gender, age, race or station.

Roles of Submission— Submission is a central concept in Christian ethics, but it has nothing to do with inferiority, weakness, or incompetence. Jesus himself submitted to the Father’s will (John 6:38; 8:29), not because he was inferior to the Father (Phil. 2:6), but because of the nature of their relationship (Phil. 2:7-8). Likewise, all Christians are equal in Christ (Gal. 3:28), yet God assigns roles that reflect divine order. The Greek word for “submit” (ὑποτάσσω) means “to arrange under” or “to subordinate in order.” Submission, therefore, is not blind obedience but a respect for God’s established order.

Paul frames each submissive role within a gospel context. Wives submit to their husbands “as to the Lord” (5:22), children obey their parents “in the Lord” (6:1) and slaves serve their masters “as [they] would Christ” (6:5). Behind every earthly authority stands the Lord himself, who delegates and oversees all human roles. That’s why Paul calls all believers to “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ” (5:21) and reminds those in positions of authority that they, too, are under authority and must answer to God (6:9).

Gospel Balance — First-century Jews and Greeks had their own “household codes,” and in some respects, these resembled New Testament lists (cf. Eph. 5:22-6:9; Col. 3:18-4:1; Titus 2:1-10; 1 Pet. 2:18-3:7). But the New Testament presents a profound difference: balance. In Paul’s teaching, those in authority are not just granted rights but also given responsibilities. Those in submission are not voiceless—they are dignified and honored. In Christ, all are equal, regardless of social station.

Greco-Roman and Jewish codes emphasized the power and privileges of husbands, parents and masters. Paul, in contrast, focuses on their duties and imposes clear limits on their authority. While ancient codes commanded unquestioning submission without limitation, Paul dignifies those in submissive roles by explaining their value and calling, and he holds those in authority accountable to Christ. Stoic thinkers grounded their household ethics in natural law—“this is the way the world is.” Paul grounds his in Christ’s law—“this is how the world ought to be.”

The marriage relationship —  Consider the marriage relationship. The wife’s submission is voluntary, not coerced; she submits out of reverence for Christ. In doing so, she does not lose her dignity but displays it—just as Christ did in his submission to the Father (John 14:31). Submission, in this sense, is an expression of love. Likewise, the husband’s authority is not absolute. Though the general rule is that wives are to submit “in everything to their husbands” (5:24), there are limits. If a husband forbids what God commands or commands what God forbids, a wife must obey God rather than her husband (Acts 5:29). In short, authority is not the same as tyranny, and submission is not the same as inferiority.

Jesus once interrupted a dispute among his disciples over who would be the greatest by redefining greatness in his kingdom. In the world, power is measured by how many people serve you. In God’s kingdom, greatness is measured by how well you serve others. Jesus sealed this truth with his own example: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mt. 20:25-28)

Submission is not about losing our freedom or dignity but about using our freedom to reflect Christ’s love, honor divine order and serve others out of reverence to him. We are to use our freedom to “serve one another through love” (Gal. 5:13).