Wives Submit, Slaves Obey?

There are some verses in the New Testament that can feel deeply problematic. No point pretending otherwise. And while the usual moves might be to either ignore them or excuse them with a shrug and say, "Well, things were different then," perhaps there's a better way. A more honest, more generous approach—one that asks us to take the context seriously and then lean into the transformation these texts might still be calling us toward.

Reading the Household Codes

In Colossians 3:18, we read: "Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord." And then in verse 22: "Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything."

To our ears, these sound jarring. But to Paul’s audience, they would’ve sounded utterly unremarkable. These weren’t controversial; they were the assumed norms of the Roman world. The household code was the architecture of social life. Everyone already knew this. So it’s actually the follow-up—the reversal—that Paul uses to inject something new.

"Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them."

"Masters, provide your slaves with what is right and fair, because you know that you also have a Master in heaven."

This is where Paul’s Christ-centred ethic begins to subvert the system.

Submission vs. Love

We often recoil at the idea of "submission." And that's fair. But when Paul says, "Wives, submit," and then turns to the husbands and says, "Love," he's not just offering a symmetrical command. Submission is doing what’s asked. Love is doing what isn’t asked. It's going beyond the minimum to care deeply, sacrificially.

Paul’s real expectation lands on love.

This becomes even clearer when we read the parallel passage in Ephesians. Most English translations say, "Wives, submit to your husbands." But the verb "submit" doesn’t actually appear in that verse. It’s carried over from the previous sentence: "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ." So really, it should read, "Wives, to your husbands as to the Lord," and then, "Husbands, by loving your wives as Christ loved the church." These are both examples of the mutual submission from verse 21.

Again, love is the point. And in Colossians, Paul uses the same word submit again, but now to begin undermining the entire power structure of the household code.

The Complicated World of Slavery

Now, about those instructions to slaves. Let's be clear: Roman slavery was evil. And while it was different from North American chattel slavery—it wasn’t always lifelong, and it wasn’t race-based—it was still dehumanizing. Sometimes people sold themselves into slavery to escape debt, but that didn’t make the system just.

And while the New Testament doesn’t yet have in view a Roman Empire without the economic pillar of slavery, the early church recognized the harm and knew it had no place in God’s kingdom. Take Revelation, where the Roman economy is depicted as a woman drunk on the suffering of others. When her empire collapses, merchants weep because no one will buy their cargo anymore. Cargo that includes, alongside a dizzying list of commodities, human bodies. Not human beings. Bodies. That's how Revelation describes it.

Because that’s what this economy has done: reduced beloved children of God to objects to be bought and sold like cloth.

So when Paul speaks to slaves, he isn’t endorsing slavery. He’s offering dignity in their experience. Whatever you do, do it as if working for the Lord, not for human masters who misapprehend God’s kingdom. And to masters: "Provide what is right and fair." Not because the law requires it. Because God does.

Paul never says slaves belong to their masters. He reframes the entire relationship.

A Cosmic Conviction

Paul’s ethic doesn’t end with power. It’s grounded in his conviction that all things—literally everything—are being reconciled to God. The world is under repair. So even in a broken system, Paul speaks to the powerful and says, "There is something better to chase than a tiny slice of the Empire."

These verses? They’re not aimed at the oppressed. They’re aimed at the ones with power. Paul is speaking to husbands. Masters. Anyone trying to play along with the empire for a slice of control.

Because power is a game that betrays you in the end.

A Smashing Pumpkins Gospel?

As a Gen X kid, I might paraphrase Paul with a lyric from the Smashing Pumpkins:

The world is a vampire, sent to drain.
Secret destroyers hold you up to the flame.
And what do I get for all that pain?
Betrayed desires and a piece of the game.

It's not enough. It never will be. And Paul is offering an exit ramp from Empire to Christ.

So what if we believed, really believed, that the world is on its way home? And that we’re invited to help it get there? Could we let go of power grabs and instead embrace love, mutuality, justice?

Because maybe we’d find something worth living for.

Not just a piece of the game.

But peace. True peace. For you, and for everyone around you.