What Do Christians Owe a Government They Disagree With?

There is something wonderfully unsettling about Peter's words concerning government. He does not tell Christians to honour rulers because the rulers are honourable. He does not tell them to submit because Rome has earned their confidence. Nor does he imagine that Christians will always find themselves governed by people who share their convictions. He simply writes, “Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution” (1 Peter 2:13).

We should remember who first received those words. Peter was not writing from the comfort of a Christian civilization to believers governed by sympathetic rulers. He was writing to “sojourners and exiles” scattered throughout the Roman world. The emperor was no friend of the Christian faith. The values of the empire frequently collided with the convictions of Christians. Yet Peter's response was not revolution, withdrawal, or contempt. Christians were to live such honourable lives among the Gentiles that even those who slandered them would ultimately have reason to glorify God.

That makes this passage particularly important for Christians living in Canada today.

Many believers are increasingly troubled by the direction of our culture. We see laws, institutions, and public orthodoxies moving in directions that at times conflict sharply with Christian convictions about life, sexuality, marriage, family, and the nature of human beings. The temptation in such circumstances is understandable. When we believe those governing us are profoundly wrong, contempt can begin to feel like courage.

Peter gives us another way. “Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (v. 17). There is remarkable wisdom packed into those few words. Everyone receives honour. The church receives a particular love. God alone receives fear. And the emperor, powerful though he may be, receives honour.

Notice especially what Peter does not say. He does not say, “Fear the emperor.” That distinction matters. Christians can respect earthly authority precisely because we know that earthly authority is not ultimate. Caesar is not God. Parliament is not God. Courts are not God. Political parties are not God. Their authority is real, but it is borrowed. Government occupies a place beneath the throne of the King of kings.

This protects Christians from two opposite errors. We must not despise government as though God had established no authority over us. But neither must we absolutize government, as though whatever the state commands thereby becomes righteous. The same Peter who tells Christians to submit to human authorities had earlier told the Sanhedrin, “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). There is no contradiction. There is an order.

We obey earthly authorities because God commands us to do so. Therefore, when an earthly authority commands what God forbids, or forbids what God commands, the very principle that ordinarily requires our obedience now requires our refusal. We still honour the magistrate, but we fear God.

That is considerably harder than either servility or rebellion. It is easy to obey government unquestioningly. It is also easy to make anger at government part of our identity. Peter calls Christians to something more demanding: respectful submission without idolatry, courageous conviction without contempt.

Our increasingly polarized age desperately needs to see Christians who understand this distinction. We should be able to say that a government policy is wicked without speaking wickedly about the people who govern us. We should be able to oppose laws that contradict God's Word without becoming consumed by political rage. We should be able to pray for leaders whose convictions trouble us, obey laws we would not have written, pay taxes we would rather not pay, and still draw a clear line where obedience to Christ requires it.

Why? Because our political behaviour is ultimately evangelistic.

Peter begins this section by telling Christians to “keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable” (v. 12). He then speaks about government. In other words, the way Christians respond to authority forms part of our witness before an unbelieving world. Peter wants pagans who accuse Christians of wrongdoing to encounter lives so evidently marked by goodness that their accusations eventually collapse.

This means that our public conduct matters. What we post online matters. The way we speak about politicians matters. The manner in which we disagree matters. A Christian may be entirely correct about the wickedness of a policy and still respond to it in a manner utterly inconsistent with the character of Christ.

But Peter goes deeper still. He describes Christians as those who are “free” and yet “servants of God” (v. 16). That sounds contradictory until we understand Christian freedom. The world tells us that freedom means belonging to nobody. Scripture tells us that true freedom is belonging to the right Master.

The Christian is free because Caesar no longer owns him. Public opinion no longer owns him. The spirit of the age no longer owns him. Even his own desires no longer have the final word. He belongs to God.

And because he belongs to God, he is free to honour rulers without worshipping them. He is free to disagree without hatred. He is free to obey without surrendering his conscience. And, should the day come when obedience to Christ demands disobedience to men, he is free to accept the consequences because his citizenship, inheritance, and hope lie somewhere no earthly government can touch.

That is especially important for those of us who have been listening to Peter describe Christians as exiles. We are not trying to transform the earthly city into our permanent home. Neither are we indifferent to its welfare. We seek its good precisely because we know it is not our final destination.

Our hope therefore does not rise and fall with elections. It does not depend upon the right government taking office. It cannot be overturned by Parliament or secured by the courts. Governments rise and governments fall. Political movements flourish and disappear. Empires that once seemed eternal become paragraphs in history books.

But “the word of the Lord remains forever” (1 Peter 1:25).

So Peter's political theology can be summarized remarkably simply: Honour everyone. Love the church. Fear God. Honour the emperor.

Perhaps the most important word there for anxious Christians is “fear.”

Peter reserves it for God.

We may disagree with our government. There may even be times when faithfulness requires us to resist what it commands. But we need never be terrified of it. Caesar's authority has limits. Christ's does not.

The Christian bows before earthly rulers because Christ tells him to. And when he cannot bow to their commands, he still bows before Christ.

That is Christian freedom.

And that is how exiles live.