Christians shouldn’t go looking for conflicts with the government, but sometimes they find us. How should we navigate those situations?
The time frame was about 2,000 years ago. Judea was coming alive with movement and expectation.
The long-awaited Messiah was now being boldly proclaimed as Jesus—the One who was crucified for the sins of humanity, who died, yet was raised to life. The vehicles for that message were His apostles, who were in the midst of launching a movement that would, in time, turn the world upside down.
But now, those same apostles stood in the custody of the religious leaders, arrested for spreading teachings that went against the grain.
These leaders had real power. Some were members of the Sanhedrin, the highest governing council in Judaism. And with the full weight of their authority, they commanded the apostles “not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesus” (Acts 4:18).
It was an attempt to shut down the movement before it really got off the ground—and the religious leaders had no problem using their authority as a cudgel to make it happen.
But what the apostles replied serves as a lesson for us: “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you more than to God, you judge. For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard” (verses 19-20).
A higher authority
Romans 13:1 is often the go-to passage when we talk about how Christians should relate to the government: “Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God” (New Living Translation).
In other words, we have a scriptural obligation to yield to the laws of the land. Or, as Jesus famously put it, we must render “to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s” (Matthew 22:21).
Assuming that Christians should always be in conflict with human authorities is a mistake—and it can land us in trouble with both man and God. As Paul went on to warn, “So anyone who rebels against authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and they will be punished” (Romans 13:2, NLT).
That said, there’s an important exception. Sometimes the government misuses its authority and mandates ungodly things. Sometimes Caesar commands what God forbids, and forbids what God commands. And sometimes the ruling council tells the apostles not to preach Jesus, a complete contradiction of His direct command (Mark 16:15).
In moments like that, defying the government isn’t just a suggestion—it’s a moral obligation. The apostles understood this. Standing before the Sanhedrin the second time, they declared: “We ought to obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).
Putting God’s law first
The less-talked-about question when a government oversteps its boundaries isn’t what we should do, but how we should do it. God is clear that obedience to His laws should be our highest priority, regardless of what any government says. But the way we obey God during those times can look very different depending on our circumstances.
Not every conflict between God and government calls for staring down the bad guys—and no conflict calls for a full-blown fight. The book of Daniel shows us there’s more than one way to respond in those moments, and each one honors the spirit of Acts 5:29.
1. Whenever possible, work within the system
When Daniel and his three friends—Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego—were carted off to Babylon, they were given a special opportunity: a direct track to becoming members of Nebuchadnezzar’s royal court.
But there was a snag in the road. “The king appointed for them a daily provision of the king’s delicacies and of the wine which he drank” (Daniel 1:5).
God has given laws on what His people should and shouldn’t eat, and apparently some of the king’s delicacies—whatever they were—weren’t on the list of what they could eat. So the four friends found themselves at a fork in the road: do what man says or obey God.
They didn’t hesitate. “Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself” (verse 8). It was faith in action. It was the kind of resolve that pushes past fear, endless what-ifs, and says, “No matter what, I will obey God.” But here’s the part we sometimes don’t appreciate as much: Daniel handled the situation with tact.
He was humble—he made his way to the steward and made a simple appeal: “Please test your servants for ten days, and let them give us vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then let our appearance be examined before you” (verses 12-13).
Vegetables and water. It was a middle ground—one that had a chance of satisfying Nebuchadnezzar, but more importantly, stayed true to God’s law. Put a different way, Daniel found a way to work within the system. No rebellion, no protest or storming out of the academy in an act of righteous defiance. He petitioned the one in charge for an exemption and then left the rest in God’s hands.
And it worked: “At the end of ten days their features appeared better and fatter in flesh than all the young men who ate the portion of the king’s delicacies. Thus the steward took away their portion of delicacies and the wine that they were to drink, and gave them vegetables” (verses 15-16).
Two things can be true at once: you can be immovable on principle and eager to find an appropriate compromise if there is one. Brainstorming solutions that make God’s laws our top priority but don’t needlessly clash with the authorities should be our first recourse.
Daniel and his friends weren’t going to budge. They were dead set on obeying God, but they wanted to do it without a fight. They wanted peace, if possible.
2. Quiet disobedience
One of Darius’ first orders of business after Persia took control of Babylon was to organize the government. He appointed 120 leaders over the regions, and over them, three governors to oversee everything. Daniel was one of those governors (Daniel 6:1-2).
Daniel was so exceptional in his role that Darius wanted to promote him even further—to make him administrator “over the whole realm” (verse 3). Politically, this was bad news for the other leaders, who were jealous and desperate for recognition. So they started digging for dirt on Daniel—searching for anything that might discredit him or sabotage his future.
There was only one problem: Daniel’s life was squeaky clean.
Up against a wall, they switched their tactics. Their new plan was to leverage Daniel’s own righteousness against him.
“So these governors and satraps thronged before the king, and said thus to him: ‘King Darius, live forever! All the governors of the kingdom, the administrators and satraps, the counselors and advisors, have consulted together to establish a royal statute and to make a firm decree, that whoever petitions any god or man for thirty days, except you, O king, shall be cast into the den of lions’” (verses 6-7).
It was a clever move. They knew Daniel’s character. They knew if he were forced to pick between obedience to God or the government, he would obey God every time—even if it meant being torn apart by lions.
And just as he had done in his prior run-in with the government, Daniel didn’t flinch: “When Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went home. And in his upper room, with his windows open toward Jerusalem, he knelt down on his knees three times that day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as was his custom since early days” (verse 10).
Negotiation was out of the question for this one. The decree couldn’t be changed. But Daniel’s example reminds us there’s another way forward when the system can’t be reasoned with: quiet disobedience.
He didn’t make a public spectacle out of his disagreement. He simply went to his house and kept right on with his daily practice of praying to God. It was disobedience, but it wasn’t overt.
3. Open disobedience
Finally, when man’s demands clash with God’s commands, sometimes the only thing left to do is look the opposition straight in the eye and say, “No.”
During his reign, Nebuchadnezzar erected a colossal image of gold and summoned officials from across the empire to attend its dedication—including Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego. Then came the famous decree: when the music played, everyone was to “fall down and worship the gold image.” Whoever refused would be “cast immediately into the midst of a burning fiery furnace” (Daniel 3:5-6).
For most of the crowd, this wasn’t an issue. They already worshipped a pantheon of gods—what was one more? But for Daniel’s friends, this was a life-or-death trial. There was no way to ask for an exemption, no way to go home and quietly disobey. This was the kind of edict you either obeyed or openly defied.
When the music swelled and the crowd dropped to the ground in unison, Daniel’s friends were the only ones standing. It was impossible to miss—a sea of folded bodies, foreheads pressed to the ground, and three men upright. A simple but unwavering “No.”
Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage when word reached him about these three Jews. The men were dragged before him, but they were firm:
“Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from your hand, O king. But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, nor will we worship the gold image which you have set up” (verses 17-18).
And God did deliver them. The furnace blazed so hot that the men who threw them in were killed by the flames. But Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego walked in and out of the fire unscathed—completely whole and without a hint of smoke on their clothes.
Based on the three friends’ earlier history, it’s safe to say open disobedience wouldn’t have been their first option—but in fact, it was their only option. And when the moment came, they met it courageously. They refused to compromise their relationship with God—even when it meant standing out in a crowd, even when it meant making their disagreement awkward and public and even when it meant inviting their own execution.
They said “No”—and they were unapologetic about it.
Forewarned is forearmed
If we ever needed proof that our world is under the influence of Satan the devil, all we need to do is look at the fact that faithful Christians down through history have suffered brutally at the hands of the state for their loyalty to God. The Bible calls this behind-the-scenes demon-king the “prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2), “a murderer from the beginning” (John 8:44) and the one who makes wars against the saints (Revelation 12:17).
And he’s not done yet.
For now most of us can continue to enjoy and pray for a peaceful environment for worshipping and obeying God (1 Timothy 2:1-2).
But Revelation 13 shows us a future time when government overreach won’t just be a regional or local problem. It will be worldwide. It will be a system demanding absolute loyalty from every person on the face of the earth—and whoever refuses to bow the knee will be killed (verse 15).
Until that time—which will no doubt call for open disobedience—the skirmishes most Christians have with their governments are small by comparison. But smaller doesn’t mean they don’t exist—or that they aren’t real concerns to wrestle with.
When we’re forced to choose between obedience to God and obedience to the government, we’re not locked into a single track. Sometimes we can find middle ground. Sometimes we can disobey without drawing attention to ourselves. Sometimes we must take a public stand.
In every case, the goal is the same: put God first.
Study the Bible’s approach further in our online article “Citizens of Heaven Under Governments of Men—Three Principles to Live By.”