As great as it is to celebrate where we are and where we are going, it is critical to never forget where we come from.

Does the Bible support slavery? Perhaps no issue has been more fiercely debated in the last few years. Underneath this controversy are questions about the goodness of God, the authority and ethical consistency of Scripture, and the credibility of Christian witness. In a recent viral debate with Glen Scrivener, Alex O’Connor argued that Scripture can just as easily be used to condone slavery as to condemn it. As a popular agnostic YouTuber, O’Connor has established himself as an informed critic of religion. His videos are marked by thoughtful dialogue and intellectual precision. When debating slavery, O’Connor raises uncomfortable issues that some Christians would rather avoid. While he’s right to name these tensions, his interpretation of the Bible’s teaching on slavery subtly distorts Scripture’s message. His view downplays the image of God, decontextualizes the exodus, and limits the cross’s liberation. When read as a unified whole, Scripture tells a story that dismantles oppression and makes slavery unimaginable. God’s Image While O’Connor recognizes that the image of God gives every human being inherent dignity, he also argues that it’s insufficient for condemning slavery. In one sense, he’s right. At various points in history, Christians have ignored the implications of the imago Dei for the enslaved. But wrong interpretation doesn’t invalidate the biblical message. Because God created humanity in his image (Gen. 1:27–28; 5:1–3), human rights aren’t based on race, country of origin, legal status, or other characteristics. Every individual is infinitely valuable simply because each is made in God’s image. When read as a unified whole, Scripture tells a story that dismantles oppression and makes slavery unimaginable. The ancient world shows just how radical this view is. In the ancient world, slavery wasn’t controversial—it was assumed. Both Plato and Aristotle believed that some deserve to be slaves. Slavery was accepted as part of the natural hierarchy, something that people inherently deserved. But by teaching that every individual bears God’s image, Scripture undermines slavery. According to Genesis 9:5–6, murdering a human being denies the irrevocable dignity God has given us. God hates oppression because it harms his image-bearers. Israel’s Exodus While the exodus shows God’s love for the enslaved, O’Connor points out that it’s only for one nation, Israel. After Israel escapes from Egypt, God permits them to take slaves from other nations (Lev. 25:45–46). In O’Connor’s view, the Old Testament presents a God who only cares about Israel and is content with the enslavement of other nations. O’Connor even claims that the black church misunderstands the exodus by wrongly applying it to the civil rights movement. While it’s true that God permits Israel to take permanent slaves from foreign nations, this allowance must be kept in context. Sometimes God permits things that he ultimately condemns (Matt. 19:7–9). God also gives strict requirements for protecting slaves. Stealing someone to sell him or her into slavery is punished with death (Ex. 21:16). Runaway slaves can’t be returned to their masters (Deut. 23:15–16). According to Exodus 21:26–27, if a master even harms a slave, the slave is to be set free immediately. Further, God promises a new exodus that will bring salvation for all nations. Isaiah 11 prophesies this future explicitly, promising a Savior who will bring peace and justice to the nations (see also 2:1–5; 19:19–25; 25:1–12). The New Testament clarifies how this will be accomplished by presenting Jesus as the true and better Israel. He is called out of Egypt (Matt. 2:13–15) and brings light into the nations’ darkness (4:12–17). He’s the true Passover lamb sacrificed in our place so our sins can be forgiven (1 Cor. 5:6–8). Even baptism is a symbol of God leading his people out of bondage in Egypt through the Red Sea (10:1–4). Through Jesus, God brings a new exodus that liberates people from sin and slavery. Christ’s Liberation In O’Connor’s view, the New Testament accepts slavery rather than abolishing it. But this is difficult to square with the actual teachings of the New Testament. Jesus revolutionizes ethics, teaching that we must treat one another the way we want to be treated (Matt. 7:12) and use power to serve the weak (Luke 10:25–37). Even more, Jesus dies a slave’s death. Through his crucifixion, Jesus overturns the social hierarchy of the ancient world. Self-giving love replaces hierarchical domination, and weakness triumphs over oppression. Because of Christ, masters and slaves are on equal standing at the foot of the cross. O’Connor observes that Paul doesn’t outright condemn the institution of slavery. It’s true that he commands slaves to obey their masters (Eph. 6:5; Col. 3:22). But he also rebukes harsh masters (Eph. 6:9), commands masters to treat their slaves justly and fairly (Col. 4:1), and condemns enslaving someone (1 Tim. 1:10). He teaches that there’s neither slave nor free in Christ Jesus (Gal. 3:28; Col. 3:11) and supports freedom for slaves. When Onesimus returns to Philemon, Paul urges that he be accepted not as a slave but as a brother (Philem. 1:15–16). In 1 Corinthians 7:21, Paul even tells slaves to take their freedom if they can. Because of Christ, masters and slaves are on equal standing at the foot of the cross. Some might respond that this is special pleading from Christians, choosing to accept some of Paul’s teachings but not others. But this objection misses the point of the previous paragraph. Paul tells slaves to take their freedom, condemns enslaving another person, and commands masters to treat slaves justly. Paul’s ethics sowed the seeds for the destruction of slavery. Many in the early church recognized this, choosing to sell themselves into slavery to free others and to use church funds to rescue slaves. Historically, the Bible was wrongly used to defend slavery. But it was also the only weapon powerful enough to destroy it. As New Testament scholar Esau McCaulley writes, “The story of Christianity does not on every page legislate slavery out of existence. Nonetheless, the Christian narrative, our core theological principles, and our ethical imperatives create a world in which slavery becomes unimaginable.”

Can the Bible be funny? It’s one of those questions Christians love to debate, and it was on my mind as I sat down to watch The Promised Land, a situation comedy in which the situation is ancient Israel’s 40 years of wandering in the wilderness. The series (free to watch on YouTube) is filmed as a mockumentary. It’s a comedic format that proved successful for The Office and Parks and Recreation, but one that has high potential for blasphemy when applied to the Bible. And in my history of viewing Christian films and series, quality has sometimes been lacking. So as I pushed play on The Promised Land, I adjusted my expectations accordingly. I didn’t expect it to be good, and I didn’t expect it to be funny. It turned out to be both. Sinai in the Style of Dunder Mifflin The Promised Land is the brainchild of writer-director Mitch Hudson and producer Richie Johns, both of whom have served on the crew of The Chosen. But while The Chosen plumbs dramatic depths, The Promised Land makes few attempts to take itself seriously. This is the story of Moses (Wasim No’mani) attempting to lead the people of Israel out of slavery and into the freedom of a barren Sinai Peninsula, all while receiving the sacred commands of God that will form their new religion. Anyone who has read the Old Testament narratives of Israel’s wanderings can likely see the opportunity for humor. Moses’s struggles with the grumbling Israelites have high comedic potential, as do his relationships with long-lost brother Aaron (Majed Sayess) and sister Miriam (Shereen Khan). “Back in Egypt, I think some people were really beginning to recognize me for my talent,” Miriam tells us, “but the baby my mother pushed down a river became a political revolutionary, so now I get to take notes while the men are talking.” I didn’t expect it to be good, and I didn’t expect it to be funny. It turned out to be both. The arrival of Moses’s wife Zipporah (Tryphena Wade) leaves him with some explaining to do. “I’ve barely seen her since she threw my firstborn’s foreskin on my foot and called me a ‘bridegroom of blood,’ so we’ve got a lot to catch up on,” he admits. We see how the Israelites struggle to trust this God whose name they’ve only just learned while adjusting to a stressful existence practically designed for interpersonal conflict. “Most of the time I’m thinking, ‘Yes, we’re going to make it to the promised land, 100 percent!’” Aaron says. “I have seen the impossible become possible. But sometimes I get this sinking feeling, no matter how hard I fight it, that we’re going to die in this desert.” Courtesy of Milk & Honey Studios We also meet an Israelite named Korah (Brad Culver)—immediately billed as “Rightful Leader of Israel (Self-Proclaimed)”—and follow his efforts to gain a more prominent role among his people, even as he attempts to sniff out the origins of Chisisi (Dav Coretti), who we learn in a cutaway interview is actually an Egyptian soldier who washed up on the wrong side of the Red Sea. Chisisi’s outsider perspective allows him to make humorous observations. “That’s not their God. They know that, right?” he remarks on seeing the golden calf. Then there’s the overeager Joshua (Artoun Nazareth), desperate to become Moses’s right-hand man, the Sinai equivalent of assistant (to the) regional manager. As the series proceeds through the six episodes of season 1, we come to know these characters in the intensity of their flaws and the heights of their character. Moses is a poor public speaker with no idea how to lead a nation through the desert. Aaron’s charisma cannot save him from a massive mistake (think of something gold that goes “Moo!”). Miriam struggles to find meaning in her female-specific tasks, Joshua has some maturing to do, and Chisisi just wants to go home. Amid all the chaos, the characters come to know the God who saved them, and it helps them relate to each other. “We’re all going to make mistakes. God knows that,” Moses says in one particularly poignant moment. “It’s not about being worthy. It’s about being faithful to him. We are faithful when we recognize our need for him.” Delicate Balance in Adapting the Bible In transferring a biblical story to the screen, filmmakers must consider how closely they should stick to the biblical text. Too close and the story lacks necessary character arcs and situational context, but too far and viewers will no longer recognize the biblical characters. The best solution is to maintain the Bible’s theological content while adding secondary elements to make the depiction well rounded. The Promised Land strikes this delicate balance. The show is willing to occasionally sacrifice historical accuracy for a joke, as when Joshua attempts to throw himself a birthday party or when Chisisi recalls his time performing with an Egyptian boy band. But I never felt the biblical text was being dishonored. Genuinely Funny—and Moving The Promised Land isn’t worth watching simply because it’s Christian. It’s worth watching because it’s good. The Promised Land isn’t worth watching simply because it’s Christian. It’s worth watching because it’s good. The actors understand comedic timing. The writing weaves together subplots effectively. Crucially, I laughed aloud on occasion, which is a rare occurrence. The humor kept me engaged, and I connected with the characters. When Moses and Aaron fall out over the golden-calf incident, I could sense how horrific this conflict must have been for the biblical characters. When Aaron is subsequently restored and takes his place as high priest in the tabernacle, I was genuinely moved. A second season of The Promised Land is already being produced, so I look forward to more time with a show that far exceeded my minimal expectations and made me believe that the Bible can, in fact, be funny.

Symbols are always contested spaces—and the sports world is notorious for it. A tomahawk chop is an honoring tradition to some and a harmful caricature to others. Kneeling can signify a prayer; a protest against injustice; or, to others, an unpatriotic act of defiance. Bible verses written in eye black, fists raised at podiums, American flags on uniforms. Symbols are loaded and don’t come with universally agreed-on definitions. They never have. The rainbow is the latest contested symbol in sports. Last Friday night in San Francisco, three Giants pitchers took the field wearing team (and MLB) issued hats for the team’s annual Pride Night. But their hats were modified from the versions the rest of their teammates wore. Landen Roupp, J. T. Brubaker, and Ryan Walker had each written “Gen 9:12–16” on the rainbow-logoed hats the entire team wore during the game, with the notable exception of Sam Hentges, who opted to wear his traditional hat without the rainbow. Manager Tony Vitello said after the game, “Individuals [on the team] have the freedom to do what they think is best.” Was wearing the hat mandatory? No. But anyone who has been inside a locker room knows the unwritten rule: When the majority opts in, the social pressure on everyone else is real. By Monday, MLB had issued an official warning for violating the league’s policy on adding messages of any kind to team uniforms. By Tuesday, it was trending everywhere. JD Vance weighed in. Comedian and actor Rob Schneider offered to pay any fines. The Giants organization issued an official apology to the LGBT+ community. There were polar reactions. Some said the athletes didn’t go far enough. Others called it hate speech. What does faithfulness look like in moments like these? How do we evaluate what these players did as a model? Start with the Right Question The temptation is to go straight to “Was this the right thing to do or not?” But Jesus gives us a better starting place for questions like this: Love God and love others (Mark 12:28–31). So before we ask, “Should they have written on the hat?” it’s worth wondering, “What does it look like to love God and love others in this situation?” That reframe probably doesn’t make the decision easier, but it does make it cleaner by shifting the weight of the response from self-protection and fear of man to genuine faithfulness and care for others. I don’t know these players. I don’t know their motives, any potential agendas, or their spiritual maturity. The only thing I can evaluate is the strategy they employed to contest the symbol that most of their team decided to wear as part of their uniform. Daniel Showed Us This First One of the best models for this kind of cultural moment isn’t a playbook or a policy. It’s a person. Daniel lived faithfully in Babylon, a city whose culture and values were openly (even violently) opposed to the God he served. And his response wasn’t to conquer Babylon or retreat from it. He resisted both assimilation and isolation through what I’d call obedient involvement. He wore the Babylonian uniform. He sat at the Babylonian table. But he didn’t bow to the Babylonian idol. There were boundaries he was unwilling to cross: He wouldn’t eat some of their food or wine that would cause him to become unclean (Dan. 1:8). Was this offensive to some of the Babylonians who regularly partook in this? Most certainly. But he found a way to live among them—and still peacefully oppose some of their practices. Daniel found a way to live among the Babylonians—and still peacefully oppose some of their practices. Even if they did it imperfectly, these three athletes modeled a similar approach. Like Daniel, they didn’t assimilate (wear the hat and say nothing). They didn’t isolate (refuse to take the field). They chose contested participation, marked by a quiet, respectful, and clear statement of their conviction of what the rainbow means to them. What the Giants Pitchers Did—and Why It Matters Genesis 9:12–16 is the passage where God establishes his covenant with Noah after the flood by placing a rainbow in the sky as a sign of his faithfulness and mercy to all living creatures. It’s God’s promise that, out of love for his creation, he won’t direct his wrath by means of flooding the earth. The rainbow signifies a meaning that both predates and exceeds its current cultural use. That’s what symbols do. They mean different things to different people. For Christians, the rainbow carries the weight of an ancient covenant. For the LGBT+ community, it carries the weight of identity and belonging. Writing “Gen 9:12–16” on a hat certainly doesn’t resolve that tension. But it does something important: It draws a line and shows one way (though certainly not the only way) of Christianly contesting a symbol. Here’s how Roupp explained it after the game: It’s just about God’s covenant and a promise that he makes to us that, you know, his faithfulness and his mercy. And that’s just kind of something I believe in, and I stand firm in that, and I’m thankful we live in a country where, you know, we have the freedom to believe what we want . . . and express what we want. . . . There’s no hate at all. It’s just what I stand for, and what I stand in. I believe in God. Roupp told the truth about what he believes and why. When pressed, he had a thoughtful answer. Could it have been more polished? Sure. But it sounded like a present-day application of 1 Peter 3:15. Peter doesn’t call us to write on baseball hats, but he commissions us to speak: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (NIV). Was This the Best Move? Here’s what I’ve learned from spending years working at the intersection of faith and sport: There’s rarely a one-size-fits-all application in situations like this. Christians share the same foundation. But different contexts, platforms, and relationships all shape how faithfulness gets expressed. There’s rarely a one-size-fits-all application in situations like this. That said, I do respect the decision these athletes made, because I believe it reflects what faithful involvement could look like in our cultural climate. Perhaps the only truly wrong move in a moment like this is acting out of fear of others. Whether an athlete chooses to wear the hat, decline it, or write something on it, the question each must stand before God and answer is whether that choice comes from love and conviction or from pressure and self-protection. These men chose the former. That matters. Roupp, Brubaker, and Walker acted on their personal convictions about what was best. But that certainly doesn’t mean their method is prescriptive for every other Christian athlete in a similar situation. It’s worth noting that their method of contesting was received poorly by many in the LGBT+ community. That’s not surprising, nor is it entirely unfair. The church has a checkered past when it comes to finding ways to show Jesus’s love to this particular community, and that history doesn’t disappear because one pitcher’s intentions were good. Roupp may have said (and meant), “There is no hate at all.” But symbols carry history, not just intent. When the symbol lands on a person who has been wounded by it before, the wound is real regardless of the hand that delivers it. Deeper Invitation These guys contested a symbol based on their convictions. They weren’t jerks about it. They played the game. They thoughtfully answered the questions. Did they contest perfectly? Probably not, but that’s the whole point of contesting something. All sides will contest how something is contested! And that’s OK. But from my 30-plus years as an athlete, coach, and sports minister, I consider this a pretty good example of what it means to be theologically, culturally, and humanly ready. Here’s what I want Christian athletes, coaches, and sports ministry leaders to take from this moment: The three Giants players showed us what it looks like to prepare. They were prepared theologically, knowing what Genesis 9 says and what it means. They were prepared practically, having a physical act (the Sharpie) ready to go. They were prepared relationally, acting in community with one another. They were prepared communicatively, responding to the media’s questions thoughtfully and respectfully. This is important: They weren’t jerks. This kind of preparation doesn’t happen in the moment. It usually happens in locker-room conversations, team chapel sessions and Bible studies, and the discipleship relationships that nobody sees. The visible act on that Friday night was the fruit of invisible formation and conviction happening long before the cameras showed up and social media fueled the fire. That’s what Christian athletes need. All of us, actually. Symbolic gestures will always draw conflicting interpretations. We’re not going to resolve this by being louder or more strategic. But we can be the kind of Christians whose gestures are grounded in something deep enough to survive the scrutiny. We need to contest in a way that loves God and others. Sometimes this looks like what Daniel modeled in Babylon. And sometimes it looks like three men writing a Bible reference on a hat and then playing a baseball game.

In this TGC Classic recorded at TGW2014, Tim and Kathy Keller, John Piper, Kathleen Nielson, and Don Carson discuss why they’re complementarians and how they see their theology work out practically in life and ministry. With candor and humor, they tell personal stories of how they came to their positions, address key exegetical questions, and discuss misconceptions surrounding complementarian theology. In This Episode 00:06 – Introduction and initial thoughts on complementarianism 06:06 – Tim Keller’s journey to complementarianism 09:57 – Kathy Keller’s personal story and challenges 14:47 – John Piper’s influences and early controversies 19:21 – Don Carson’s background and early reflections 23:41 – Complementarianism vs. patriarchalism 35:45 – Theological reflections on complementarianism 40:02 – Challenges and misconceptions of complementarianism 40:21 – Practical implications and applications 50:16 – Exegetical questions and responses Resources Mentioned: Jesus, Justice, and Gender Roles by Kathy Keller Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood edited by John Piper and Wayne Grudem Did Paul Require Veils or the Silence of Women? by James B. Hurley in the Westminster Theological Journal SIGN UP for one of our newsletters to stay informed about TGC’s latest resources. Help The Gospel Coalition renew and unify the contemporary church in the ancient gospel: Give today. Don’t miss an episode of The Gospel Coalition Podcast: Apple Podcasts Spotify YouTube