Who Wears the Cross First?

We've all been there. Maybe as a husband or a wife, sitting at the kitchen table after a long day, arguing again about who's in charge.

Maybe as a child, listening from the next room while Mom and Dad throw Bible verses at each other—"You're supposed to submit!" "Well, you're supposed to love me like Christ!" And you're just wishing the fighting would stop.

When you stood before God and said, "for better or for worse," you never imagined this kind of "worse": using Scripture as a weapon, calling it "headship" when it feels like control, calling it "submission" when it feels like disappearing.

Some of us hear the word "submission" and our stomach tightens. Some of us hear "head of the house" and our ego swells. Some of us just hear pain.

This morning, I don't want to throw this passage at you. I want us to sit under it together and ask, "Jesus, what did you really mean for our homes?"

So let's listen again—maybe for the first time—to Ephesians 5, starting at verse 21.

If we're honest, some of us checked out as soon as we heard "wives submit." Others maybe sat up a little straighter when we heard "the husband is the head of the wife." But did you notice how it starts? "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ."

Before Paul ever talks to wives or to husbands, he talks to all of us. Here's the question I want us to sit with today: What if "headship" and "submission" in this passage isnt about who wins, but about who wears the cross first?

What if this is less about rank and more about resemblance—not "who's the boss?" but "who looks most like Jesus?"

Paul says, "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ."

Submission here is not cowering. Submission is the posture of every disciple who has stood at the foot of the cross and said, "Not my will, but Yours be done."

It's Jesus in Gethsemane.

It's Jesus kneeling with a towel, washing dirty feet.

It's Jesus hanging on a cross, saying, "Father, forgive them."

[Participatory moment]

I want you to whisper a question to Jesus right where you are—

"Lord, where in my relationships am I still fighting to be first?"

Husbands, wives, single, divorced, widowed—this is for all of us.

The Christian life is cross‑shaped before it is spouse‑shaped.

So whatever Paul is about to say to wives, whatever he is about to say to husbands, it lives inside this bigger call: a community of people learning to bend, not to bulldoze.

With that in mind, let's talk about the word everybody trips over.

"Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord."

For some of you, that verse has been used like a club.

You've been told "submit" meant, "Don't have a voice. Don't question. Don't name the hurt."

Maybe you stayed in situations that were not just hard, but harmful, because someone slapped this verse on your pain.

If that's you, I want you to hear me clearly as your pastor:

Paul is never asking you to submit to sin.

Paul is never asking you to submit to abuse.

Your first and final allegiance is to Jesus.

If a man is calling you to violate Christ's way, you do not owe him your obedience.

Submission here is not about you becoming smaller.

It's about both of you coming under the lordship of Christ.

This text invites wives to a posture of respect and responsive trust—but only in the context of a husband who is already kneeling at the cross.

And that's where I want to spend most of our time.

Because in this passage, husbands don't get a verse and a half. We get the whole paragraph.

5. Husbands: "Head" Means Cross‑Bearer, Not Boss – Who Wears the Cross First?

[Hold up a simple wooden cross if available]

"For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church."

Head, in our culture, usually means "the one in charge."

The head coach. The head man. The head honcho.

But Paul doesn't say, "Husbands, be the boss of your wives."

He says, "Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."

In other words, in a Christian home, this is what "head" looks like.

[Lift the cross]

Not a crown on your head.

A cross on your shoulder.

Listen to the verbs Paul uses for Jesus:

"He loved her."

"He gave Himself up for her."

"He cleansed her."

"He made her holy."

"He will present her in splendor."

Husbands, that's not a checklist; that's a way of life.

To love your wife like Christ is to say, "My life is spent so that she can flourish.

My pride dies so that her joy can live.

My comfort is on the altar so that her calling can grow."

That means sometimes you die to your schedule so you can be present and listen.

You die to your defensiveness so you can say, "I was wrong."

You die to the need to win every argument so the relationship can win.

Headship is not a right you demand; it is a cross you volunteer for.

Men, can I talk straight for a minute?

Some of us have been waving the "wives submit" verse around while ignoring the "Christ gave Himself up" verse.

We want the respect of being called "head," without the responsibility of being the first to repent, the first to pray, the first to seek help, the first to say, "I'm sorry, I was wrong."

In this passage, God never tells a husband to make his wife submit.

He tells a husband to love his wife like Jesus.

Sisters, can I say this to you too?

If he is not following Jesus, if he is not moving toward this kind of cross‑shaped love, you are not being unbiblical when you say, "This is not safe. This is not Christlike."

The command to submit is never a command to endure destruction.

But when a husband starts to love this way—when he starts carrying the cross instead of throwing commands—something begins to change.

Submission becomes a response to love, not a surrender to fear.

Respect becomes a joy, not a survival strategy.

Paul says, "This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church."

In other words, your marriage is not just about your happiness.

It is a little picture, in Prospect, of the way Jesus loves His people and the way His people respond to Him.

When a husband lays his life down, when a wife responds in respect and trust, when both practice mutual submission out of reverence for Christ, the Spirit hangs a sign over that home that says,

"Look here if you want to see a glimpse of the gospel."

I know a couple who started in the same place many of you are—words as weapons, Scripture as ammo, sleeping back‑to‑back.

Over time, the Spirit began with the husband.

He started by confessing his anger.

He showed up to counseling.

He learned to listen.

And slowly, as he put on the cross, she found herself able to breathe again, to speak, to trust, to offer herself without fear.

They didn't fix it in a weekend.

But their house, little by little, became less of a battleground and more of a living parable.

I need to say something as your pastor.

I am preaching about submission today, but I am not asking you to submit to me as if I were the head of this church.

Christ alone is the head of the church.

Any authority I have as your pastor is borrowed and it is limited.

I will answer to Jesus for how I use it.

My calling is not to stand over you, but to stand with you under the Word, under the cross, under the lordship of Jesus.

I don't want a church full of people lining up under my will.

I want a church full of people bending their knees to His.

Invitation and Next Step

If you're a couple who needs prayer, maybe you're in that "for worse" season right now, we want to stand with you, not judge you.

Our altar is open.

Come as a couple, come alone, or come as someone whose story has cracks and scars.

We're not here to make you submit to us.

We're here to help you submit everything to Jesus and to learn together what it means to wear the cross in our homes.