The Hardest Button to Click

You’ve filled out the online form—every field, every box, every inconsequential detail. You’ve double-checked dates, numbers, and spellings.

And there it is… the small, rectangular button labeled “submit.”

You hesitate… You felt good about your work, and now one word has you questioning it all.

Why?

Maybe if it said, “You did great. Click here to send your completed form,” you’d feel confident and move forward without re-examining every line for typos or missed details. But it doesn’t. It says “submit”.

For some reason, that word carries more weight, even more than many four-letter words (~50% more, for those who appreciate math).

Passages like Ephesians 5:22 often make us uncomfortable due to the cultural baggage associated with the word “submit.” We hear it and instinctively think: weakness, loss of importance, respect, control, freedom.

But what if the biblical concept of submission isn’t about losing something essential? What if it’s actually a necessary step toward gaining the very things the world says we’d surrender?

In the earliest Greek manuscripts, verse 22 reads, “Wives to their own husbands as to the Lord.” No verb—“submit” isn’t there. This was a common literary device that saved ink while prompting the reader to reexamine the context.

So what came before verse 22? Our missing verb: “Submit to one another.” The instruction for wives to submit to their husbands would have been understood as flowing from the call to submission for those who follow Jesus.

The first century was profoundly patriarchal. Roman law, social structure, and family life were dominated by men. Women were already expected to submit (especially to their husbands), and were often viewed as possessing less inherent value.

While the expectation wasn’t new, the purpose given in Ephesians was revolutionary—transforming a one-sided expectation of “you have to” because of cultural requirements based on sex and social status into a shared calling of “you get to” …out of reverence for Christ (v21)

Paul isn’t reinforcing inferiority; he’s reframing the posture entirely. Submission here is a voluntary act of service, choosing to place yourself under another for their good. Not because you are lesser, but because you are imitating Jesus. Husbands also receive an additional (and arguably heavier) responsibility: “love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” This isn’t a call to dominate; it’s a summons to self-sacrifice.

The result is transformative. Rather than a mechanism of control, Biblical submission is a shared practice of humility—a deliberate laying down of self-interest for another. In a society obsessed with power and status, early Christian marriages and communities that actually lived this way were radically countercultural.

And that’s the surprising gain: when submission flows from reverence for Christ rather than cultural pressure or power dynamics, no one truly loses. Both husband and wife gain the freedom to love without score-keeping, to serve without resentment, and to reflect the self-giving love of Jesus.

Once you click “submit,” if you’re anything like me (Vance), there’s a strange mix of accomplishment and relief—like you’ve done what you can, and the rest is out of your hands. But the longer you hover, the more you start to doubt everything you’ve just done.

Peace, freedom, and real transformation come when you finally loosen your grip and trust the One who truly holds all authority.