Ephesians 6:9

Paul is writing a letter to the early Christian church in Ephesus, a major city in what is now Turkey, around 60 AD. In the verse just before this, he had addressed servants and slaves, urging them to work wholeheartedly as if serving God rather than a human employer. Now he turns to those with power — the masters — and the instruction is just as demanding. Treat those beneath you in social rank the same way you yourself are expected to act. The reason he gives is both simple and stunning: God in heaven is the Master of everyone, slave and free alike, and he does not play favorites based on wealth or social standing.

Lord, it is easy to justify how I use power over others when no one seems to be watching. Remind me today that you are always watching — not to catch me, but because every person I lead or manage or parent matters to you as much as I do. Give me the humility to lead with open hands. Amen.

Power tends to do a strange thing to people — it convinces them the rules don't quite apply to them. The master in the ancient Roman world held near-absolute authority over every person in his household. To hear Paul say "treat them the same way" would have been genuinely surprising, maybe even offensive. The verse doesn't just ask for basic decency; it grounds that decency in a theological reality that levels every room: there is someone above you, and he is not impressed by your title. You might not own slaves, but you hold power somewhere — over employees, children, students, people who depend on you for income or approval. The temptation to use that power carelessly, to make implicit threats, to let people feel the weight of their dependence — that's as old as Ephesus. Paul's word to you is the same one he gave the masters: remember you are also under authority. The way you treat the person with the least power in the room is not invisible to God. It may, in fact, be one of the truest tests of who you actually are.