Grace Outlasts the Flash: Christ’s Unilateral Love on the Dark Road
Ephesians 5:28b-29, 33
"...He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church...let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband."
As you're driving your car, traveling along the road in the dark, you'll sometimes find the need to shine your high beams. And of course you'll then find it necessary to lower those lights when passing another car coming the other way. And so, there's a point of decision, and a little bit of consideration and consternation comes into play. When to lower the lights, what's right what's not. What to do if the other guy doesn't lower his. It's about submitting to a right of way. To a right way of doing things.
On a dark road, high beams provide clarity and safety for your path. They help you see obstacles, stay on course, and navigate dangers. And if you're being considerate, you're looking ahead for signs of coming traffic. Things like the glare of another car's high beams illuminating overhead wires or trees. Sending you a heads up so that you can quickly switch your own lights without blinding the other drivers.
When another driver approaches, keeping your high beams on could blind or disorient the other person, making the road more hazardous for everyone. The "right" choice involves lowering them at the appropriate moment. It's a small act of consideration that yields to the shared need for safe passage. It’s not about dimming your light out of weakness or defeat, but out of wisdom, courtesy, and recognition that both drivers have a right of way.
Today's scripture passage emphasizes selfless, nurturing love in marriage. A husband is called to love his wife as his own body. The wife, in turn, is exhorted to respect her husband, creating a harmonious dynamic rooted in mutual honor and Christ-like patterns. The husband’s love (his high beams) isn’t meant to overpower or dominate but to illuminate, protect, and provide for his wife; nourishing her growth and well-being, just as he naturally cares for his own body.
True love involves sensitivity; knowing when to "lower the lights" through humility, listening, sacrifice, or yielding in non-essential matters so she can thrive without being overwhelmed or blinded by selfishness. The wife’s respect plays a parallel role; honoring his leadership and headship without resentment, creating space for his care to shine effectively. Marriage shouldn't be a competition. As a man, I can attest that men do not appreciate being disrespected. Maybe even more so than women because the man sees himself valued, loved, when his role is respected. And when it's not, he doesn't feel loved and appreciated. When respect is withheld, it can feel like love itself is questioned. Women may experience something parallel when sacrificial love feels taken for granted or unreciprocated. The wife’s respect flows from that same gospel reality; not as a quid pro quo, but as a response to Christ’s pattern, honoring the headship God designed. The point isn’t a competition of wounds but recognizing how the enemy loves to exploit those tender spots to turn partners into adversaries instead of allies.
If the other driver refuses to dim their lights?
You might feel frustrated or tempted to retaliate by leaving yours on, or worse, flash yours bright at the last moment to punish them. But the wiser, safer path is still to dim anyway, protecting the journey for both.
Have I flashed mine in retaliation?
Yes. Because I'm petty.
In marriage, one spouse’s failure doesn’t justify mirroring it; Christ’s example shows persistent, unilateral love even when unreturned. This is the grace principle. Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her, long before she was spotless. He didn't wait for her to lower her lights, and he didn't blast her with his brights when she didn't lower them.
That point of decision, consternation over what’s right, highlights the daily, Spirit-led choices we all must make as we're being sanctified. It’s about submitting to God’s "right of way", and it's not limited to marriage dynamics. These same principles apply in every relationship. And Paul goes on to explain just that.
The "submit to one another out of reverence for Christ" sets the stage for the whole household code. The principle ripples outward. In every relationship, we yield to God’s "right of way" through humility, service, and grace-empowered choices. It’s Spirit-led sanctification in the daily grind; choosing to dim our own "high beams" (pride, retaliation, self-defense) even when the other driver refuses. It’s a holy tension. The flesh screams "fight back!" while the Spirit whispers "love anyway." It’s where growth happens, where we lean harder on grace, and where marriages, parent/child relationships, friendships, workplaces, churches, start reflecting Christ’s persistent, transforming love instead of the world’s scorekeeping.
It's realizing you hold a certain power in your hand. You're traveling along the dark road. You saw another coming the other way, anticipating the light. And you did the right thing, you lowered your lights. And for whatever reason, from the other's perspective, your lights seem to them to still shine too bright. So they start flashing their high beams and retaliating against you, even though you submitted before. And game on. Now the bitter resentment sets in.
Maybe they’re carrying unresolved frustration, or they’re just wired to see any dimming as weakness rather than wisdom. So they retaliate; flashing, holding steady, even escalating. The very submission you offered becomes the trigger for their aggression. And instead of safe passage, he gets blinded in return.
The wife who honors her husband’s headship, creating space for his care, might still face dismissal, criticism, or resistance that interprets her respect as subservience or invitation to dominate her even harder. This is where the holy tension sharpens to a point. You’ve already chosen grace; now the test is whether grace holds up when it’s meets with ingratitude or hostility.
The natural response?
Flash back; retaliate with sharper words, withdraw affection, assert power to "even the score," or harden your heart so you don’t get burned again. Refusing to be considerate, it’s petty, yes, but it’s also an instinctive self-defense. The other driver’s refusal doesn’t nullify your initial choice; it reveals whether your dimming was conditional from the start.
Parenting a rebellious child who exploits your patience, befriending someone who takes without giving, serving in a church or workplace where humility gets trampled; the principle still holds. You lower first because submission to God’s right of way isn’t tit-for-tat; it’s gospel-shaped. When retaliation comes anyway, the Spirit’s whisper remains:
"Love anyways"
Protect the vulnerable, set boundaries, avert your eyes so their rebellion doesn't blind you, but don't mirror the darkness. Don't let another’s failure redefine your obedience.
The beauty?
Grace isn’t defeated by the flash. It outlasts it. Your lowered lights might not immediately change their behavior, but they keep the road safer for both. You may have to submit to loosing a relationship in order to keep your peace. You keep the light on low, illuminating the path back home without blinding them into further rebellion. It hurts. It exhausts. It sometimes means watching them crash harder because they refuse the guidance. But grace outlasts the crash. Many a prodigal has returned because a parent’s lowered lights never went out completely. Sometimes the healthiest grace is distance. The road stays safer when one driver refuses to escalate the blindness. It’s sometimes the most loving act, entrusting the other to God’s pursuing grace while you walk forward unblinded.
May grace keep fueling your persistence. When the consternation peaks and the flesh screams to flash back, remember, you’ve already been seen and loved in your own refusals to dim. Yet God hasn’t retaliated against you; He’s poured out even more mercy. Let that same mercy empower you to keep the lights low in Christ's love. You’re not alone on this dark stretch. Keep driving faithfully.
Amen.