ABSTRACT: Sport and competition can easily arouse pride, insecurity, envy, and malice. Yet they also can afford opportunities to express a healthy, deeply human inclination to play. Play finds its roots in God himself, whose creation reflects not only exactness but exuberance. He created humans in his image to reflect, in part, his playful, non-utilitarian creativity. More than that, the saving presence of God often inspires expressions of play such as singing, leaping, dancing, and merrymaking. Christians play well in the midst of a broken world when they soberly acknowledge the reality of sin and sorrow, while at the same time remembering that Christ’s kingdom of joy is on the way.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Erik Thoennes, professor and chair of theology at Talbot School of Theology, Biola University, to offer a brief theology of play.

Western culture views sport in two drastically different ways. One has preserved within sport the healthy, joyful expression of the deep human inclination to play; the other has locked into a utilitarian understanding of sport that squelches play and its perspective-giving power. One appreciates the actual process of playing a sport; the other has sadly turned sport into an expression of human pride, insecurity, envy, and malice. As Christians, what will keep us from turning sport into something ugly rather than beautiful?

Sport is playful competition, or you could also call it competitive play. At the heart of a healthy understanding of sport is the proper balance between competition and play. To that end, a robust appreciation of play is sure to help. Among the many factors we could consider in answering the question of what it means for Christians to play the way God intends, in this essay I want to consider the necessity of keeping play in competitive sport for the glory of God. The main question I want to answer is, How does play help us to fulfill our created purpose in this beautiful yet tragically fallen world? First, we will briefly define play. We then will look at play in the Bible. Finally, we will consider play in light of God’s purpose in creation, humanity, and salvation history.

Defining Play

We can define play as a fun, imaginative, non-compulsory, non-utilitarian activity filled with creative spontaneity and humor, which gives perspective, diversion, and rest from the necessary work of daily life.1 In light of God’s sovereignty and faithful love, play for the Christian should demonstrate and encourage hope, delight, gratitude, and celebration.

Play and fun go hand in hand.2 One cannot truly play without a sense of good-natured humor and fun that at times invokes deep laughter. Play has the potential to totally absorb the player. Fun need not be frivolous, however. The sacred should never be trivialized by making fun a major priority, but freed slaves are inclined to sing, and play and fun are byproducts of expressing one’s freedom. Although fun is a necessary part of the definition of play, play is not the opposite of seriousness and can be very serious indeed.

Another aspect of play is that it is non-compulsory. Play must express freedom and therefore cannot be imposed on anyone. Humans are created to exercise freedom — and indeed, imposed circumstances often spark playful expressions of freedom.

“The value of play is elusive; as soon as you dwell on the pragmatics of it, it ceases to be play.”

Play is also fundamentally non-utilitarian. The pragmatic results of play must necessarily fade to the background, to an almost subconscious level, lest the pure playfulness of play be lost. Play may lead to accomplishing goals but does not depend on it, and it most certainly has the potential of accomplishing much if it is allowed to be more than merely a means to an end. The value of play is elusive; as soon as you dwell on the pragmatics of it, it ceases to be play.

True play includes imagination, creativity, and spontaneity. To play means entering a world of make-believe where the players act as if the agreed-upon rules, boundaries, and goals really matter and exist. This has parallels in the Christian life in that the exercise of faith and hope require a kind of imagination. While Christian faith is not based in a fictitious world of make-believe, it does require creatively imagining something God has promised in order to trust in him. Living with faith and hope leads to the kind of joyful discipleship God requires of his people.

Finally, play provides needed perspective, diversion, and rest. Like the arts, play can afford “counter-environments”3 that provide freedom from dwelling on the daily difficulties of life in a fallen world. Play should not serve to anesthetize Christians to life’s burdens, preventing them from engaging those burdens wholeheartedly; rather, it should provide a needed, hopeful Sabbath from their relentless presence.

Play and Competition

The inherent tension between competition and play does not mean they are unable to fruitfully coexist. Competition can increase the potential for true play, and play has the potential to heighten the enjoyment of competition. Sport requires a commitment to an imaginary world where the participants agree to act as though the made-up parameters of space, time, and the rules of the game really exist and matter. This is why we despise a spoilsport more than a cheat. The cheat acts as if the rules exist, even though he is trying to break them, but the spoilsport breaks out of the commitment to the imaginary world of play by scoffing at the very existence of the world that the game requires.

Competition intensifies the participants’ commitment to the world of make-believe where play thrives. Play keeps the competitor from losing perspective and seeing the final score as more important than playing the game.

Serious Play

Christians are commanded to live carefully and wisely and to make the most of the time we have “because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15–16). Stewarding our time wisely and seeking eternal rewards should lead to a sense of peaceful urgency because the time we have is short (Psalm 32:6; Romans 13:11–13). We may think, then, that the Christian life affords no place for activities that seem so unessential as sport, play, and recreation. Certainly, for a Christian, play should never have a trivializing effect on life. God and life are not to be trifled with, and play in this sense has no place in the Christian life. If play serves merely to divert rather than to give hopeful perspective, it can actually prevent serious transformative engagement with a world badly in need of redemption.

“Play can serve to remind those who are burdened and heavy laden that there is rest and restoration on the way.”

An eternal perspective, however, should lead to both diligent, earnest engagement with gospel ministry and restful playfulness as we trust in the God who knows the beginning from the end. The sovereign grace of God frees Christians to seriously play even in the midst of the suffering all around us in this fallen world. Paradoxically, there is a vital connection between suffering and play. Those who most recognize the difficulty of life in a fallen world are often able to play and laugh best. Play and playfulness can serve to remind those who are burdened and heavy laden that there is rest and restoration on the way. These moments of emancipation can remind the faithful of the ultimate liberation coming when God makes all things new (Revelation 21:5).

Play in the Bible

The Bible never explicitly addresses play. The Bible is a mostly serious book that seeks to pull the reader from his sinful, God-ignoring sloth and distraction to an earnest pursuit of his Creator and then to holy living. But the seriousness in the Bible often sets the stage for the unbridled joy of knowing God — joy that is often expressed in playful exuberance. Most of the elements of our working definition of play — fun, free, spontaneous, creative, non-utilitarian — are found throughout Scripture, especially in response to the liberating, saving presence of God himself. This sense of play, it seems, has its origin in God himself.

Biblical words translated as a variation of “play” (sachaq, shaa, and raqad in the Old Testament, paizo in the New Testament) can also carry meanings of amusement, merrymaking, celebration, laughter, sport, delight, mocking, dancing, frolicking, leaping, and prancing. The most common kind of play in the Bible is the playing of instruments. Music, depending on the kind, can be a profoundly playful expression. Humans, animals, and creation itself are portrayed as having an indelible playfulness woven into them.

To understand play in the Bible, as we shall see, we also need to appreciate related concepts such as laughter, Sabbath, feasts, festivals, childlikeness, and music. These activities are impossible to do well apart from serious play. So, our study of play in the Bible will not be limited to passages where words translated play occur. Rather, we will focus on examples where main components of play are present. These occur most often when God’s presence, grace, and glory are most evident to his covenant people.

Playful God

God created the universe with amazing order. He also guides our lives in his wise providence, which assures us that nothing happens apart from his careful, perfect plan, which culminates in his glory and our good (Romans 8:28). But in the midst of God’s wise ordering of the universe and perfect execution of his purposes, he works with a creative, playful extravagance.

This is evident in both the creation itself and God’s interaction with it. The description of God’s creative activity in Psalm 104, for instance, gives us a picture not only of God’s awesome power and wisdom, but also of his abundant playfulness in his creative work — gushing springs, singing birds, wine that gladdens hearts, and abundantly watered trees all point to a fabulous display of lavish divine activity. As the psalmist describes the immense and powerful sea, the greatest sea creature of all, Leviathan, is said to have been formed by God “to play in it” (Psalm 104:26). This verse may even imply that God himself is at play with Leviathan in the seas he has created!4

The overwhelming artistic variety we see in creation indicates that there is not only an intelligent designer behind it, but also a playful artist. The sheer variety of tastes, colors, sounds, textures, and shapes in creation indicates anything but pure utilitarian motivation by its Creator. God is both skillful architect and creative artist. He does nothing based in need (Acts 17:24–25; Psalm 50:9–12), so creation, like play, is “meaningful but not necessary.”5 In creating and sustaining everything, and in accomplishing redemption, God’s pleasure and glory are his primary motives (Isaiah 43:7; Matthew 10:26; Luke 11:21; Ephesians 1:5, 9, 11–12). Creation is God at play, “a play of his groundless and inscrutable wisdom.”6 Creation, and life itself, become a source of pleasure and delight for those who delight in the Creator and the work of his hands.

We get glimpses of the playfulness of God also in Christ’s teaching, which often includes verbal sparring. Jesus’s parables frequently contain humorous exaggeration (the beam in the hypocrite’s eye, Matthew 7:5), word play (Peter’s new nickname, Matthew 16:18), and irony (asking whether the people who went to see John the Baptist had gone out to see someone “in soft clothing,” Matthew 11:8).

Play and the Coming Kingdom

The most stirring images of play in the Bible occur in attempts to express the joy and freedom experienced in the coming kingdom of God. One of the most vivid of these images appears in Zechariah 8:5: “The streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.” God gives his people a beautiful scene of the eschaton to look forward to: children playing with uninhibited, unhindered freedom. Isaiah 11:8–9 offers a similar picture of the freedom to be found in the heavenly city. Fearless, childlike play, no longer inhibited by the effects of sin and the curse, is a key metaphor of Christ’s kingdom. Similar images of playful celebration and merrymaking abound in other prophetic glimpses of what the New Jerusalem brings (for example, Jeremiah 30:18–19; 31:4, 13–14).

“Fearless, childlike play, no longer inhibited by the effects of sin and the curse, is a key metaphor of Christ’s kingdom.”

One of the tenderest pictures of God’s deep care for his people is found in his promise of a restored Jerusalem. He likens it to the care of a compassionate mother for her little baby (Isaiah 66:12). In the restoration, God provides the security and freedom a child experiences while playfully dandled on her mother’s knee. These images call to mind Jesus holding up a child as the prototype of the kind of person to whom the kingdom of God belongs (Matthew 19:14). Jesus calls his followers to an attitude of childlike dependence and trust in God, and this kind of trust invariably leads to childlike play as we see God’s fulfilled covenant promises.

Playful, spontaneous exuberance sparked by God’s presence and blessing is also vividly displayed in David’s joyful worship when the ark of the covenant was returned from the Philistines. David looks downright childlike as he celebrates the symbol of God’s abiding presence reentering Jerusalem (2 Samuel 6:5, 14, 20–22). David’s celebration epitomizes key elements of our definition of play. His enthusiastic, exuberant dancing and leaping was free, creative, fun, and non-utilitarian, and it demonstrated and encouraged hope, delight, gratitude, and celebration.

David’s playful dancing and leaping mirrors other responses of joy over God’s restoring power and presence (Psalm 87:7; 114:4; Isaiah 35:6; Malachi 4:2; Jeremiah 31:4, 13; Luke 1:44; 6:23; Acts 3:8). One would be hard pressed to think of a less practical, less constrained, less mandatory, less boring activity than leaping and dancing. This is the exuberant response of pardoned prisoners.

Those who fail to understand God’s astounding grace have no appreciation for this sort of impractical, unrestrained worship. The woman in Luke 7 dismissed pharisaical decorum when she kissed Jesus’s feet and used her tears and hair to anoint his feet with oil. She stands as a vivid and powerful picture of a sinner who understood grace (Luke 7:36–50). This same disposition was displayed by the woman who “wasted” expensive ointment anointing Jesus. She did a “beautiful thing” to Jesus in preparation for his burial and realized that unrestrained appreciation was warranted (Mark 14:3–9). His disciples failed to have her perspective at this moment, but most of them would welcome it once the Author of life left an empty tomb behind.

Sabbath and Rest

Beyond explicit play-oriented passages, Sabbath observance in the Bible helps us understand the value of play. Sabbath-keeping forced God’s people to disengage from providing for themselves and remember the ultimate source of their daily bread. The Creator and Sustainer built a mandatory rest into each week to get his people to put their efforts at survival into perspective. Even more radically, God instituted the Sabbath when his people were in the wilderness, where failure to fend for yourself could mean death. Resting in God’s sufficiency and power wars against a human-centered view of life and demands we surrender any vestige of self-sufficiency.

Similarly, Isaiah rebukes Israel and seeks to free them from thinking their efforts were the ultimate source of their protection (Isaiah 41:13–14). In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also seeks to quell the pride that leads to anxiety about our provision (Matthew 6:25–33). In this passage, Jesus is saying, “How dare you worry? Who do you think you are — the sovereign God?” James also corrects a heightened view of human planning by comparing it to God’s comprehensive sovereignty (James 4:13–17).

None of these exhortations is intended to undercut human effort, attentiveness, passion, diligence, or responsibility. Isaiah, Jesus, and James all worked extremely hard and took their human decisions and activity seriously. Human activity, however, must always be subservient to the overarching plan and power of God. God calls us to the freedom and Sabbath rest that lead to childlike dependence, trust, and holy play.

Hopeful Play

How can we ever justify playing when hunger and abortion kill millions of children every year and wars rage around the globe? Without sober acknowledgment of sin, play can become a mere distraction or obsession. But because of God’s sovereign power to bring a wonderful conclusion to all of the ambiguities and suffering in life (Romans 8:28), the Christian has hope and can truly play in righteous measure.

A game’s clear, definitive result is part of its appeal. The 24-hour news cycle reveals never-ending political, national, international, interpersonal, and religious conflicts. It is no wonder many readers turn first to the sports section to discover yesterday’s results. While the clear resolution sport offers is part of its draw, ironically, interest in play and sport rests largely on the uncertainty of the final outcome. We lose interest in games if the outcome is assured before the game starts. This is why parity in sports leagues is vital to maintaining interest. There must be a good measure of uncertainty as to what will transpire and what the end result will be. The more tension created by this uncertainty, the more engaged we become with the game.

This creative, spontaneous uncertainty is central to the definition of play and at the heart of the intrigue of sport. It also mirrors the tension at the heart of the drama of human history. The spontaneous uncertainty with an eventual ending inherent in play reflects the unfolding story of our lives. Like games, our lives are filled with uncertainties that lead to one final result. Play can equip a person to deal with uncertainties on the way to the conclusion. For a Christian, the promised good conclusion to the difficulty of life in a fallen world brings a deep enjoyment of play as it dramatizes a life that ends well.

Hope of the Cross

God’s redeeming power that evokes play and laughter from believers is seen most powerfully in the “folly” of the redemptive work of Christ (1 Corinthians 1–2). The juxtaposing ironies in his life are many: the glorious Creator becomes a baby, the Creator of all beauty has nothing in his appearance to attract us to him, the source of all joy becomes the man of sorrows, the Holy One is cursed and crucified. His life conjures images of a man chasing an impossible dream, except Jesus doesn’t remain dead at the end — and all our hopes and dreams come true in him.

“When play is grounded in the hope of the gospel, it can become one of life’s greatest and most encouraging pleasures.”

The gospel leads to play, for it expresses our ability to transcend the brokenness of our world. We momentarily see the human predicament as not only daunting but fixable (Romans 8:20–22). The Christian worldview recognizes the relentless difficulty of life in our cursed world, but it also recognizes that the world is being redeemed by the one who created and cursed it. So we have hope, and play, in the midst of our brokenness. “He suffered that we may laugh again. . . . In the cross of Christ God is taking man dead-seriously so that he may open up for him the happy freedom of Easter.”7 Without hope, play becomes merely a diversion from life’s troubles rather than a hopeful expression of the freedom to come in the eschaton. When play is an end in itself, it can become a frivolous idol that keeps us from dealing with the human predicament. When play is grounded in the hope of the gospel, it can become one of life’s greatest and most encouraging pleasures.

Heaven: The Play of Eternity

Christian play is a response of those who know God as their Father — who know that he has overcome the world and that he loves to abundantly share the spoils of this victory with his children. God’s saving power leads to great joy among God’s people (Psalm 126:2). This joy is possible even when life is brutal (Luke 6:21). Tears and empty stomachs are not the whole story. God will bring ultimate healing one day.

Christian play should see suffering for what it is, but always through the eyes of cross-centered hope. Following Jesus turns pain into glory, confusion into wonder, sin into redemption, Good Friday into Easter Sunday. God invites us to come to him as his free, forgiven, secure children. To be sure, we are to approach our holy God with healthy fear and hearts broken by our broken world, but God’s people are also called to rejoice, sing, play, and laugh because we know that the owner of all things is working out his perfect plan, which ends with a wedding banquet and perfect resolution and rest. This sure hope in God’s sovereign power and loving-kindness enables us to play with abandon, even before the great wedding banquet begins.

ABSTRACT: When some hear the phrase “natural law,” they think of animal instinct, survival of the fittest, or the laws of physics. In Christian history, however, natural law refers to basic moral principles woven by God into the fabric of creation. Political laws derive from the natural law, and they carry the force of God’s standard only insofar as they accurately reflect nature. The biblical writers also assume the relevance of natural law, both in establishing proper customs and testifying to our need for forgiveness. Even still, nature cannot teach us where our deepest hope lies: not in the law itself, but in the Christ who saves the law’s transgressors.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Steven Wedgeworth, pastor of Christ Church Anglican in South Bend, Indiana, to offer a biblical introduction to natural law.

The issue of natural law may confound the people . . . you and I at least know what we are talking about here. . . . You know and I know it is a big, big deal. (Joe Biden, from 1991)

I have no idea what he was talking about. (Clarence Thomas, from 2020)1

Discussions over natural law can be just as confusing within the church as they are in American politics, demonstrated by the two quotes above. Some hold strong feelings about natural law, whether it exists at all and, if so, what it teaches. Others argue that it’s a foreign influence fundamentally opposed to biblical revelation. Others still try to understand what natural-law thinkers are even talking about.

In this essay, I would like to help us understand the key terms and concepts involved in a philosophy of natural law. I discuss what these terms and concepts mean and how they can be used, and then I discuss a few passages of the New Testament that use the logic, and even occasionally the language, of natural law. The Bible does indeed show that nature can teach, and this is important. But just as importantly, the Bible shows there are some lessons that nature cannot teach, or at least not well enough. So, I conclude with a look at the limits of natural law.

What Is Natural Law?

In the twenty-first century, the average person hears nature and thinks of modern biology or even zoology. Natural law, then, is assumed to be something like animal instinct. Worse, some might interpret it along the lines of the survival of the fittest, thus making natural law merely a contest of appetite and might. This is not what natural law meant in older Christian thought. Another misconception is that natural law is an invisible textbook in the sky. Most humans have “always known” certain things, and so the assumption is that if we simply go back to the appropriate time in history or look at the appropriate cultures, we will find the true list of moral laws that can be our standard. This is a sophisticated trump card, but it’s a trump nonetheless.

More accurately, natural law is a method of moral reasoning. Instead of only discussing a positive set of do’s and don’ts, natural law is instead an attempt to locate and demonstrate the rational foundation for a particular duty or prohibition. Thomas Aquinas calls it “participation of the eternal law in the rational creature.”2 More properly, it is an exercise in reasoning from the most basic rational moral principles applied to various moral questions, eventually leading to specific legal cases. Considered wholly on its own, natural law is the earliest philosophical stage of this exercise. As we move from speculative argument into practical application, we quickly move into politics — not the sometimes-unseemly business of cutting deals or building a coalition, but rather the art of ordering human society. Even the early stages of natural-law reasoning, however, imply the need for further application, since the law imprinted in our nature causes various inclinations.3

Sixteenth-century Reformed theologian Franciscus Junius explains the natural law this way: “The natural law is that which is innate to creatures endowed with reason and informs them with common notions of nature, that is, with principles and conclusions adumbrating the eternal law by a certain participation.”4 While impressively tight, this is a loaded definition. Innate reason informs the creature by way of common notions that highlight both principles and conclusions. This means that the applications and eventual positive laws are themselves contained, at least in seed form, in the basic teaching given by the natural law.

But this still requires a process of argument. As Junius goes on to note, the natural law has never been “equally perceived by all.”5 Human sinfulness tends to distort or suppress the natural law, and error increases as men move from general principles to particulars.6 So natural-law thinking has always included the need for teaching, as well as social and moral formation in particular settings.

“The content of the natural law can be explained most basically as ‘seek the good and avoid the evil.’”

The content of the natural law can be explained most basically as “seek the good and avoid the evil.”7 Christian authors have universally argued that this also implied the moral content of the Ten Commandments. John Calvin writes, “The very things contained in the two tables are, in a manner, dictated to us by that internal law, which, as has been already said, is in a manner written and stamped on every heart.”8 The Westminster Confession of Faith states, “This law [given in Eden], after his fall, continued to be a perfect rule of righteousness; and, as such, was delivered by God upon Mount Sinai, in ten commandments, and written in two tables.”9 The Confession, citing Matthew 22:37–40, explains that this law can be understood as teaching our duty toward God, “Love the Lord your God,” and our duty toward our fellow man, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This means that “the good” that we are seeking is the love of God and then, following that, the love of man, and “the evil” that we are avoiding is the opposite.

Human Law, Custom, Decorum

So then, the natural law, in its most basic form, is the root understanding of goodness and the inclination toward actions that are consistent with that goodness. However, to go much further, humans need actual legislation, the passing and enforcing of positive laws, as well as moral formation through social relationships and teaching.

The most basic distinction in this discussion is between natural law and human law. Thomas Aquinas explains it this way:

Just as, in the speculative reason, from naturally known indemonstrable principles, we draw the conclusions of the various sciences, the knowledge of which is not imparted to us by nature, but acquired by the efforts of reason, so too it is from the precepts of the natural law, as from general and indemonstrable principles, that the human reason needs to proceed to the more particular determination of certain matters. These particular determinations, devised by human reason, are called human laws.10

This means that natural law, as such, consists of the moral principles themselves, known innately and immediately, whereas the “particular determinations” of a person or group applying those principles in conversation with other sciences is “human law.” To call it human law is not to denigrate such laws, but it is to admit that they are more particular and more varied between peoples.11 It is also to acknowledge that human law can be changed as necessary.12 Importantly, the distinction between natural law and human law also explains the limits of human law. If a human law is inconsistent with the natural law, if it violates more basic principles of justice, then it is not a true law at all and rightly can be resisted.13 “Every human law has just so much of the nature of law, as it is derived from the law of nature. But if in any point it deflects from the law of nature, it is no longer a law but a perversion of law.”14

Another important category for understanding this latter idea is that of custom. A custom is any activity commonly enacted and respected by a particular community in order to teach a certain concept, particularly a moral one. In modern times, people often speak of something being “merely a custom” and so therefore less authoritative or perhaps not authoritative at all. But for classical thinkers, customs were powerful and important means by which to train people for virtue. As such, they were said to sometimes obtain the force of law. Aquinas puts it this way: “When a thing is done again and again, it seems to proceed from a deliberate judgment of reason. Accordingly, custom has the force of a law, abolishes law, and is the interpreter of law.”15 John Calvin interprets the apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:14 as speaking of custom when he writes, “Does not nature itself teach?” Calvin writes, “What was at that time in common use by universal consent and custom . . . he speaks of as being natural,” and “he reckons as nature a custom that had come to be confirmed.”16 Elsewhere Calvin states, “When there is an accepted custom, and it is a good and decent one, we must accept it. And whoever tries to change it is surely the enemy of the common good.”17

One more important concept in the broader natural-law discussion is what has been called fittingness or becomingness. This concept is discussed by the Roman lawyer and philosopher Cicero in his book On Moral Duties. Cicero uses the term “becoming” to explain when something is “in accordance with nature” and presents itself in an appropriate way given the occasion.18 A simple way to describe this idea would be to say that something is proper. Something that is proper is moral, because it is based on the natural law, but it is also carried out in the right manner. It fits the occasion. The maintenance of fittingness on a social scale is sometimes called decorum. Calvin and others make use of this concept in their ethical teaching. It is important to note, however, that an idea like decorum necessarily involves a greater level of subjectivity than does the moral law itself, and so it also requires a respect for order and submission to the appropriate authorities.

Sola Scriptura

At this point in the discussion, some readers might wonder if this is a philosophy that Protestants should endorse. After all, most of the argument has relied on tradition, including non-Christian sources. Shouldn’t we instead want to adhere only to biblical law?

This sort of concern is well-meaning, but it is based on a misunderstanding. The Reformation principle of sola Scriptura does not mean that the Bible is the only authority at all. Instead, it means that the Bible is the highest authority, the authority by which all others are judged. It also means that the Bible is the only source of authority for matters absolutely necessary — that is, necessary for salvation, true worship, and righteous living.19 But sola Scriptura does not mean that no other authorities are legitimate, nor does it deny that the light of nature supplies true knowledge from God. In fact, the Westminster Confession of Faith refers to the light of nature at least five times.20 In one section, the Confession states that Christian liberty does not allow for “the publishing of such opinions, or maintaining of such practices, as are contrary to the light of nature.”21 This is because, ultimately, the light of nature and the natural law are aspects of general revelation and therefore reflections of God’s own character.

The Scriptures themselves presuppose a certain amount of natural knowledge. After all, the Bible nowhere lays out the basic laws of logic or attempts to defend the legitimacy of causation. Indeed, the Bible proclaims that certain attributes of God can be seen “in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20). It even says that man knows God’s righteous decree concerning the demands of justice (Romans 1:32). In short, the Bible presumes the existence of natural law and appeals to it on multiple occasions.

Natural Law in the Bible

Romans 1 is the most common source for natural law in the Scriptures. There, the apostle Paul states,

What can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. (Romans 1:19–20)

Thus, one of the lessons nature teaches is that God exists. Paul goes on to say that people knew this fact but refused to worship God or give him thanks (Romans 1:21), and so we can also say that the natural law teaches that the worship of God is a moral imperative.

Paul also speaks of “natural relations” between men and women, by which he means sexual relations. He is clear that homosexuality is unnatural since it goes against the design of creation. Romans 1:32 even says that fallen humanity “know[s] God’s righteous decree” concerning morality, as well as what we deserve if we violate it, “that those who practice such things deserve to die” (Romans 1:32). So a basic knowledge of justice, as well as the satisfaction for violating justice, is also taught by the natural law.

Philosophy with the Greeks

The New Testament also maintains that nature testifies to the difference between the Creator and the creature. In Acts 14, Barnabas and Paul say,

Men, why are you doing these things? We also are men, of like nature with you, and we bring you good news, that you should turn from these vain things to a living God, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them. (Acts 14:15)

Interestingly, the Greek term translated as “like nature” is actually homoiopatheis, which means more literally “like passions” or “like affections.” And so Paul claims not only that humans have a qualitatively distinct nature from God’s but also that God does not have human passions — and he assumes that his Gentile audience can learn this truth from natural law. Interestingly, when he is on Mars Hill, Paul also argues against idolatry and appeals to what his Greek audience already knows. He explains that it is wrong to think of the divine nature as “an image formed by the art and imagination of man,” since even man is prior to and above such creations (Acts 17:29). Interestingly, throughout the book of Acts, Paul argues from nature and local philosophical literature when he evangelizes Greeks, but he argues from the Old Testament when he evangelizes Jews.

Head Coverings and Submission

Paul also makes use of custom, fittingness, and decorum. We see this especially in 1 Corinthians 11:1–6, but also in 1 Timothy 2. The head covering in 1 Corinthians 11 confounds many modern readers. It clearly seems to be a cultural artifact, a custom from Paul’s time and place, and Paul even calls it a custom in 1 Corinthians 11:16 (the term sometimes translated “practice” is also translated “custom,” and this better fits the intellectual context of the passage). But just as clearly, or so it seems, Paul is commanding the custom, and he links it to nature itself. This does not make much sense if we use only modern categories, but in light of the natural-law reasoning found in earlier eras, it is perfectly intelligible and consistent. Paul’s point is that the practice of women wearing head coverings in order to speak in the assembly is consistent with the natural-law principle of submission and good order. Therefore, to preserve that good order, Paul instructs the church to retain the custom. Seeing this as an application of the natural law through the maintenance of decorum also helps us to understand how we can apply this passage faithfully today, even in a time when the specific custom has been lost in most places. We must teach the same principles, but we can find new ways to apply them to our cultural context if we follow the same concepts of propriety.22

“Our God is a God of order, and so his creation reflects that same reality.”

We also see an emphasis on decorum in 1 Timothy 2. There, Paul is not only discussing the relationship between men and women but in fact submission to all appropriate authorities. He begins by asking for prayer for “kings and all who are in high positions” (1 Timothy 2:2a) and then moves to discuss “a peaceful and quiet life” (1 Timothy 2:2b). Everything that follows is a further discussion on the same theme. An important concern is modesty, and Paul even says that certain sorts of apparel are “proper” to this goal (1 Timothy 2:10). Again, modern readers do not immediately see how this is a sort of specialized discourse, but it comes precisely from the natural-law reasoning and rhetoric that this essay has been explaining. Paul’s goal is to promote social harmony by way of submission to one’s proper authorities. He then instructs the church about actions and customs that will help them live in such submission.

This means that what we now call “complementarianism” is a reflection of the natural law, but as one component of the larger concept of obedience to authority and peaceable order within human society. Rebellion is contrary to the natural law, as is disrespect for authority and disregard for propriety. This is because our God is a God of order (1 Corinthians 14:33), and so his creation reflects that same reality.

What Nature Can’t Teach

Nature teaches that there is a God, that he is worthy of worship, and that he has given us a basic moral order, the sum of which is equivalent to the moral content of the Ten Commandments. But there are some crucial lessons that nature cannot teach us. Ever since the fall of man into sin, natural law reveals the right way to live, and as such, it also reveals that men are not living that way. It shows that something is broken, that there is a problem. But natural law cannot explain why the order is broken. It cannot tell us what the problem is (sin) or how it came to be. For that, we need God’s special revelation, the revealed law. As Paul writes, “If it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin” (Romans 7:7). From the context, it is clear he is speaking of God’s revealed law.

“Natural law cannot explain why the order is broken. It cannot tell us what the problem is (sin) or how it came to be.”

And just as the natural law cannot explain the source of the problem, it also cannot explain the solution. “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24). The only answer is Christ, and this requires the light of the gospel, special revelation from God (Hebrews 1:2; Isaiah 49:6; Acts 13:47). And special revelation further requires a message and a proclaimer. “How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” (Romans 10:14). And so, while Christianity has taught the importance of nature as a teacher and a means of accountability, it has also taught the absolute necessity of grace. The only name by which men may be saved is the name of Jesus Christ (Acts 4:12), and that name must be preached by his people.

Finally, it’s important to note that the natural law does indeed teach basic compassion. The New Testament everywhere assumes that unbelievers take care of their own (Luke 6:33; 1 Timothy 5:8). Paul even states, “Perhaps for a good man one would dare even to die” (Romans 5:7). But the natural law would never direct someone to sacrifice himself for a person who didn’t deserve it. It would never teach self-sacrifice with no earthly reward in view. “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The gospel does not contradict the natural law, but it does go above and beyond it, and in this we find our salvation.

Few saw as much as Peter did.

One of the first disciples, and chief among them, he heard Jesus’s public teaching, and his private explanations. He saw Jesus heal, raise the dead, and feed thousands with a few loaves and fish. He walked Galilee with Jesus, on land and sea.

Along with James and John, Peter witnessed the transfiguration, and accompanied Jesus deep into Gethsemane to pray on the night before he died. Then, watching from a distance on Good Friday, Peter saw what Jesus did, and did not do. Jesus’s enemies mocked him, slandered him, insulted him, maligned him, reviled him — as verbal thrusts of contempt conspired with nails and spear.

How Jesus handled it left an indelible stamp on Peter. And it came to mark his letter to insulted, maligned Christians, tempted to respond in kind to their revilers. In short, “When [Jesus] was reviled, he did not revile in return” (1 Peter 2:23).

Mindful of God

The holy composure that Jesus showed when mistreated, and while dying in agony, was not only truly divine, but like Christ himself, fully human.

“Not reviling in return” didn’t just happen. This is not how humanity naturally responds when verbally attacked. No, for years Jesus prepared for it. He trained his soul for these trials. Through rhythms of communion with his Father and compassion for immature sheep, through seasons of prayer and ceaselessly rehearsing what “is written” in Scripture, through shaping his own pliable human soul with habits of Godward praise and glad obedience, Jesus had long readied himself for the gauntlet of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.

Christ was not caught off guard when they first flogged him with words. Jesus knew that mocking would come, and warned his men of it ahead of time. He would be “mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon” (Luke 18:32). “See, we are going up to Jerusalem. And the Son of Man will be . . . mocked and flogged and crucified” (Matthew 20:18–19; also Mark 10:34). Not only flogging and crucifixion, but also mocking would be a genuine trial, requiring his readiness.

How did he prepare for the onslaught? In the words of his watching disciple, Jesus entrusted himself “to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23). He lived “mindful of God” (1 Peter 2:19), not just fellow man. He readied himself for the assault of spoken and acted evil by becoming the kind of man who would not respond in kind.

Mocked and Maligned

Preparation was one thing. Many are willing to talk theory. But when mocking words begin to fly, they often sting and disorient far more than anticipated. After his arrest,

the men who were holding Jesus in custody were mocking him as they beat him. They also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” And they said many other things against him, blaspheming him. (Luke 22:63–65)

They shuffled him off to the puppet king Herod, who “with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him” (Luke 23:11). Then back to Pilate, and Mark reports in more detail what shape the mocking took: they clothed him in purple, put a crown of thorns on him, and saluted him in jest, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They struck his head with a reed, spit on him, and knelt down in sneering homage (Mark 15:17–19; also Matthew 27:28–31). Once they had nailed him to the cross, the soldiers came by for another round; they “mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine” (Luke 23:36).

Now that he seemed safely affixed to the cross, his own countrymen unleashed the barrage they had waiting. Passersby “derided him, wagging their heads” (Matthew 27:39). Even as he writhed in agony, and public humiliation, they taunted him: “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself!” “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Matthew 27:40).

Even the dignitaries of Israel could not hold their tongues but descended into the same cowardly insults: “He saved others; he cannot save himself.” “He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him” (Matthew 27:42). “He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him” (Matthew 27:43). Never one to exaggerate, Luke simply reports that “the rulers scoffed at him” (Luke 23:35).

Even the two criminals crucified to his left and right “reviled him in the same way” (Matthew 27:44; Mark 15:32).

Reviled, Keep Trusting

How, then, did Jesus respond?

Clearly, he was capable of putting it all right back in their face with some perfectly crafted reply. No one had a way with words like Jesus. When he chose to speak, even foes confessed that “no one ever spoke like this man!” (John 7:46). None could silence the proud with one simple word like Jesus. Yet hear it from eyewitness testimony: “When he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23).

Jesus had cultivated a life of trust in his Father. He was ever “mindful of God.” Then, even when the thrusts of reviling and mocking came, he did not let the hurt pierce his heart, and he did not respond to evil with evil. Instead, he continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. Mindful of his Father, he could trust that justice would come in due time, and at least in this moment, it was not his own to enact. The wicked words of man would not unseat his own obedience to God. If we only had such wherewithal today.

This, of course, was not raw willpower, without joy. When pummeled by spoken contempt, Jesus would not fail to practice what he had preached: “Rejoice and be glad . . . when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you” (Matthew 5:11–12). He was a man of sorrows, but not joyless. In the whole horrible enterprise, says Hebrews 12:2, Jesus endured the cross “for the joy that was set before him.”

Joy does not mean fun. There was nothing fun about the odium and shame of the cross, nor its nails, nor its blasphemies. Nor was it without the deep joy that could sustain him.

Gethsemane and Golgotha were not yet the time, but they prepared the way. The day would come to “leap for joy” (Luke 6:23). Which leads to Peter’s emphasis on what Jesus did not do.

Do Not Respond in Kind

Jesus did not descend into the very sin that had been sinned against him. He did not give in to evil by repeating it. “He did not revile in return” (1 Peter 2:23).

On such authority, Peter says to his embattled readers, “Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling” (1 Peter 3:9). No matter what terrible evil has been uttered against you, keep your tongue from speaking evil (1 Peter 3:10). Have you been slandered? “Put away . . . all slander” (1 Peter 2:1). The kingdom-disqualifying sins of others, including reviling (1 Corinthians 5:11; 6:9–10), are no excuse to give ourselves to sin. Would you too go to hell because the hell-bound scoff at you?

On the one hand, Peter should not have been surprised to see Jesus’s response to reviling. This very concept of not responding in kind had been one of the hallmarks of Christ’s teaching. Turn the other cheek. Go another mile. Give him your cloak as well. Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. Still, Peter marveled to see the Christian ethic in its first and greatest act. It’s one thing to hear of a miracle; another to see it for yourself. And he would see still more.

Bless Your Revilers

Remarkably, Jesus didn’t stop at holding his tongue, magnificent as that was. He spoke blessing, rather than curse. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Human, he could find the impulse to respond in kind. But holy, he acted the miracle of not reviling in return, and then went even further. The joy that led him not to respond in kind held his peace and filled his mouth with words of blessing for his foes.

So Peter writes, “Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless” (1 Peter 3:9). Who would dare venture such an ethic without the teaching and example of Christ? Christians are constrained not to silence, but to righteousness. Peter would have us be ready, in fact, to speak with grace and truth: “Always [be] prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.” And however well-meaning or slanderous their talk, do so “with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15).

Paul also got the message, and gave it: “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. . . . Repay no one evil for evil” (Romans 12:14, 17).

Blessed and Vindicated

In the end, Jesus not only blessed but he was blessed.

God did not leave him in utter humiliation, but exalted him. He did not abandon him to the tomb, but raised him. God counted to three, and fully vindicated Jesus with resurrection life, then counted to forty, and raised him up to heaven, and then seated him on heaven’s very throne. And in his threefold rising, Jesus looked in triumph over his enemies and saw them put to shame.

So too, “you will be blessed,” writes Peter (1 Peter 3:14). In fact, you already have a down payment: “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you” (1 Peter 4:14). True, insults will not first strike us as blessings. But then, like Jesus, we go to work on them by the Spirit, mindful of God. With the calculus of heaven, which is never flippant, but ever earnest, we learn to live what Jesus taught and realized:

Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven. (Matthew 5:11–12; also Luke 6:22)

When mocked, maligned, reviled, we follow in Jesus’s steps (1 Peter 2:21). In him, we do not sin in response to sin. And one day soon, if not already in this life, the folly of our revilers will be exposed. “When you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame” (1 Peter 3:16).

When Reviled, We Bless

Make no mistake, we do not take reviling lightly. We do not celebrate opposition to Jesus, in and of itself. And true reviling is unavoidably painful. We don’t seek it, try to provoke it, or enjoy it. Not eager for it, yet we are willing for Jesus’s sake to endure it — when it comes.

In times when talk is cheap and unbelievers are prone to take aim, we look to our Lord, admire his magnanimity, and, when attacked, we seek to walk in his steps.

As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 4:12, “When reviled, we bless.”