Conversations at Midnight #17: We Rise and Fall Together

Have you ever tried to navigate your house in the middle of the night without turning on a light? "I can manage. I know this house," you tell yourself. "I don't want to wake anyone up."

Three steps later, you trip over a Hot Wheels, and your shin discovers the coffee table. Or your little toe gets reintroduced to the corner of the bed, or the laundry basket that wasn't there last night. Now you're hopping around the room trying not to say words that would make your grandmother blush.

Everything changes when the light comes on. It's not that the bed grew an extra appendage or that a Hot Wheels suddenly showed up. Now that you can see clearly, you stop hurting yourself—and everyone else.

Over the last few Conversations at Midnight, we've been wandering through Paul's letter to the Ephesians. First, he teaches us to sit in Christ. We begin by resting in the truth that we are dearly loved, adopted, forgiven, and seated with Christ.

Then we learn to walk. We leave behind the old patterns of darkness and learn to live as children of light.

Finally, Paul calls us to stand. We are no longer stumbling through life. We are alert, clothed in the armor of God, standing firm against the real enemy.

Last week, we explored the idea that our homes are meant to become outposts of the kingdom of God. That image has stayed with me all week.

An outpost isn't built to wage war against itself. It exists to hold the ground entrusted to it.

But imagine trying to defend an outpost in complete darkness. You hear movement.You panic and swing your sword. Only later do you realize you've injured one of your own.

Isn't that often what happens in our homes?

When fear replaces trust, when exhaustion replaces patience, when selfishness replaces love, it's easy to fight the people standing beside us instead of the enemy working against us. That is why Paul spends so much time talking about light.

And before Paul ever addresses husbands and wives, he gives every believer the same invitation:

Be imitators of God, as dearly loved children, and walk in love, just as Christ also loved us and gave himself for us. Ephesians 5:1-2.

Notice that there is one calling for everyone: Imitate Christ.

Walk in love by giving yourself away.

Paul isn't creating two different disciples. He's calling every believer to become like Jesus. The household relationships become the place where discipleship is lived out. Then, Paul adds another instruction:

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Submission may be one of the most misunderstood words in the New Testament.

While studying 1 Peter, I was struck by Professor Lionel Weaver's description of obedience as "hearing and responding appropriately." Although Paul uses a different Greek word here, that phrase has stayed with me. Healthy relationships require people who listen well, pay attention, and respond in love.

Paul's word for submission carries the idea of willingly placing ourselves in relationship to one another for the good of the whole. (Check out the blogs on 1 Peter for a more in depth study of the word.) Throughout Ephesians, Paul gives us two beautiful pictures to help us understand what that looks like.

The first is a body.

From him the whole body, fitted and knit together by every supporting ligament, promotes the growth of the body for building itself up in love by the proper working of each individual part. Ephesians 4:16

Every ligament matters, and every muscle has a purpose.because every part supports the others. No part exists for itself.

The second picture is a battlefield.

Paul reminds us that our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces of darkness. The real enemy isn't sitting across the dinner table or lying beside you in bed. Or the child testing your patience before breakfast.

When we grasp that the real enemy delights in bitterness, deception, pride, fear, and division, suddenly, submission looks very different. It's no longer about losing a contest but about refusing to fight the wrong battle. In the context of marriage, the wrong battle can be about who is in control.

If our homes are truly outposts of the kingdom, husbands and wives need to stand shoulder to shoulder. Back to back, they can guard each other even while watching different horizons. As they learn each other's strengths, they can also cover each other's blind spots. They watch for discouragement before it becomes despair. They recognize when exhaustion makes patience difficult. Each gently points out the little foxes before they spoil the vineyard because those little foxes rarely announce themselves, but like to sneak up on us when things are, well, dark!

Sometimes foxes arrive as a harsh word spoken in frustration; as resentment quietly tucked away; as busyness that slowly crowds out prayer. Sometimes they wreak havoc through the subtle lie that our spouse is the problem instead of a real spiritual enemy who would love nothing more than to divide what Christ is teaching us to build.

Standing guard begins at home and in our own hearts. We identify foxes nibbling away at our own vineyard. This is partly what spiritual maturity looks like, and what living in the light is about.

Parents don't hand toddlers the keys to the truck or a sharp carving knife. It's not because they don't love them. It's because power without maturity can cause damage. In the same way, Paul spends the first few chapters teaching believers who they are, and then how to live out this new identity as they share life together. The goal is for them to grow up in Christ by learning to walk in the light; to recognize the real enemy; to become people who can be trusted with the sacred work of building homes where the kingdom of God is visible.

At last Paul turns to the family, specifically to wives and husbands. For centuries, these next few verses have sparked debate. Before we rush into them, let's remember what Paul has already instructed us:

Every believer, male or female, free or slave, adult or child, is to imitate Christ, walk in love, and submit to one another. This is what living in the light looks like.

The old question, the one belonging in darkness, was, "Who gets the upper hand?" In the light of Christ, the question changes to: "How do we help one another stand against the darkness?" I think this is the better question, and one that more accurately reflects the new Kingdom we were born into.

Next week, we'll explore Paul's picture of the husband as the head of the wife and discover that, in Ephesians, the head is never imagined apart from the body. As always, Paul's vision is one of unity, sacrificial love, and a kingdom where every part flourishes because every part belongs.