Rules & Rights
An Exploration of the Christian's Bill of Rights
In 2017, I had a strange thought. At the time, the only human rights atrocity I was fully aware of was the U.S. government separating migrant children from their parents and holding them in cages.1 What struck me wasn’t just the cruelty, but the justification: “We are a nation of laws.”
I remember thinking—Okay, I’ll bite. But when did we become a nation that hated people?2
Naïve as it may have been, that question held a kernel of deeper truth. It led to another: If we’re a nation of rights, with laws designed to protect those rights, and if we call it abuse when those rights are violated—then what rights are being abused when we talk about spiritual abuse, church hurt, or institutional harm?
My first instinct was to frame it in terms of human rights. But spiritual abuse doesn’t just violate human dignity—it often does so in the name of God. So I went searching for something more specific. I went looking for Spiritual Rights—and realized no one had ever thought to name them.
What I found instead were silence, assumptions, and traditions that had long gone unquestioned. And yet, if we are truly followers of Jesus—who did not come to dominate, but to set the captives free—then surely the Church should be the first to articulate and protect the spiritual rights of its people. That’s when the Christian’s Bill of Rights began to take shape—not as a rebellious manifesto, but as a return to what has always been true in Scripture: that in Christ, we are free. Not just in theory, but in real, everyday spiritual formation and practice. These rights aren’t invented. They’re uncovered. They are the new-birth right of every believer—not bestowed by institutions, but affirmed by the mercy of God and the command of His Word that we claim to obey. These rights ground the commands of Scripture—Old and New Testaments alike—in something far deeper than the vague, vanilla, and easily hijacked aim of “pleasing God”—especially when God has already told us what pleases Him. The commands of Scripture do more than direct; they uphold the spiritual rights of the believer. Wherever there is a command, there is a spiritual right undergirding it. Sometimes, the biblical writers state this plainly: “You belong to one another because you belong to Christ, and Christ to God.” What may sound like poetic word-salad from Paul is no embellishment—it is the root system of our spiritual birth rights. Let’s take an introductory look at them together.
Rules & Rights
An Exploration of the Christian’s Bill of Rights
By Daniel L. Bacon
In recent years, I've watched as more and more Christians have come forward with stories of what many call “church hurt.” While that phrase may be familiar and culturally convenient, I believe it often masks a deeper, more systemic issue—institutional abuse. What we are dealing with is not merely the pain caused by individuals behaving badly in church contexts. We are dealing with entire systems that are structured in ways that diminish, silence, and devalue the people they claim to serve.
I starting writing The Christian’s Bill of Rights in 2017 to articulate something I believe we’ve long needed: a clear statement of what every believer is entitled to as a member of the Body of Christ—not based on institutional permission, but on the mercy and grace we’ve received from God.
What Is Institutional Abuse?
Institutional abuse occurs when systems, not just individuals, harm people. It’s when leadership structures, church policies, or cultural norms prioritize the preservation of the organization over the well-being of its people. This kind of abuse can come in hard forms—obvious violations like manipulation, control, financial exploitation, or sexual misconduct. But it often comes in soft forms as well—quiet acts of exclusion, spiritual bypassing, or teachings that pressure people to sacrifice their personhood in the name of blind obedience.
Whether hard or soft, this abuse is always spiritual. It distorts our view of the image of God in one another and withholds the full realisation of unity of love, faith and hope in the gospel which is our inheritance.
When Well-Meaning Leaders Become Part of the Problem
Some of the most damaging dynamics in church systems come from those we consider benevolent leaders—pastors, elders, and ministry heads who genuinely want to do good but are captive to the logic of the institution. Their first instinct, often unintentionally, is to defend the system. They may silence victims in the name of unity, discourage questions under the banner of humility, or enforce traditions without realizing those traditions are actively oppressing someone. I say this in good faith that there are some for whom ignorance is still a valid excuse—others deserve no such language.
Theirs is an abuse not cloaked in confusion or institutional reflex, but carried out with intention. This is hard abuse. It is the pastor who isolates and controls under the guise of “spiritual covering.” It is the leader who grooms through charisma and manipulates Scripture to serve their own ambition. It is the counsellor who exploits vulnerability, the board that covers up misconduct, the culture that protects the powerful while sacrificing the wounded. This kind of abuse is not ignorance—it is betrayal. It is not a misguided instinct—it is sin dressed in clerical garb. And it thrives where the language of authority replaces the language of love, where fear is baptized as reverence, and where no one is allowed to say, “This is not what Jesus looks like.”
I have been part of these systems. I have been shaped by them. And I have also had to repent from them. This is why I wrote The Christian’s Bill of Rights—as both a confession and a call to do better.
What Every Believer Deserves: A Reaffirmation
These rights aren’t exactly radical, they affirm what has always been true of those in Christ. And they stand in stark contrast to the way many churches are operating today. What follows are simplifications of The Christian’s Bill of Rights, which you can read by clicking the link at the top of the page, but I’ll also include a link at the bottom of this article.
You have the right to be called the people of God—not because of institutional membership or doctrinal precision, but because “once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy” (1 Peter 2:10). This is the mercy that defines your identity.
You have the right to be treated as an equal in the household of faith—because in Christ there is no male or female, Jew or Gentile, slave or free (Galatians 3:28). This is not symbolic; it is spiritual reality. Your worth is not subject to cultural bias, ecclesial hierarchy, or human status.
You have the right to be baptized into Christ as soon as you believe (Acts 8:36–38). Baptism is not a reward for spiritual maturity—it is the sign of your belonging, sealed by faith, not performance.
You have the right to the priesthood of all believers (1 Peter 2:5–9)—to offer spiritual sacrifices, to intercede, to minister, and to proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness. No gatekeeper can revoke what God has declared.
You have the right to seek God’s sanctifying work directly—through His Word and His Spirit—without mediation by religious hierarchy. The veil was torn (Matthew 27:51); you are invited into the Most Holy Place by the blood of Christ (Hebrews 10:19–22).
You have the right to obey the voice of Scripture over the voice of tradition, because Jesus said, "You nullify the word of God by your tradition" (Mark 7:13). The Spirit of Truth still leads you into all truth (John 16:13), and the Word of God remains your final authority.
You have the right to love your neighbour without reservation, because the whole law is fulfilled in this command: “Love your neighbour as yourself” (Galatians 5:14). Even the one who does not share your faith is still your neighbour, and your love is your testimony.
You have the right to give freely and without compulsion, because God loves a cheerful giver (2 Corinthians 9:7). The economy of the kingdom is not built on guilt, but generosity, and it flows from grace—not coercion.
You have the right to break bread and share in the fellowship of the saints without pledging allegiance to institutional covenants or bylaws. The early church devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the breaking of bread (Acts 2:42)—not to member contracts or denominational fences.
You have the right to reject what is not of Christ, even if it wears the clothing of tradition or holds a position of authority. “Test everything; hold fast what is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21). Discerning spirits is not rebellion—it is obedience.
You have the right to belong to the global body of Christ, joined not by geography or affiliation, but by one Spirit into one body (1 Corinthians 12:13). The walls we build are not the walls God recognizes.
You have the right to honour your story as sacred, even when it doesn’t mirror the church’s idealized narrative. The Samaritan woman’s testimony changed a city. David’s psalms were forged in caves. God meets people in the wilderness, in weakness, and in process.
You have the right to be seen as a whole person—body, soul, and spirit—because you are made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27) and destined for full redemption (1 Thessalonians 5:23). Your spirituality is not a disembodied abstraction; it is a call to wholeness.
Conclusion: From Abuse to Freedom
Institutional abuse thrives in silence. It grows in cultures where people don’t know their rights—or worse, are made to feel selfish or rebellious for asserting them. But the gospel is not about self-erasure. It is about Christ revealing who we truly are in God. That revelation brings freedom, dignity, and a renewed sense of personhood.
Now, I know a statement like that can easily be dismissed as person-centred or individualistic. But consider this: Scripture tells us we cannot say we love God and hate our siblings. In fact, the love of God is made visible in our love for one another. If we cannot learn to see one another as we truly are, we will never truly see God. This isn’t sentiment—it’s spiritual clarity. The image of God in others is not a poetic abstraction; it’s the ground of our accountability, our empathy, and our worship.
So then, our spiritual rights—and the commands that uphold them—are not abstract ideals. They are the very foundation upon which we relate to God through one another. In honouring these rights, we honour the image of God in each person. In obeying these commands, we don’t just build healthier communities—we learn to behold the face of God in the everyday act of love.
I don’t write these things as a critic standing outside the Church. I write them as one who loves the Church deeply, but who knows that love means holding a mirror up to our systems. If The Christian’s Bill of Rights can help even a few people name what they’ve been through, reclaim what’s been lost, and walk with greater boldness in Christ, then it will have served its purpose.
These are only examples of the Spiritual Rights we have in Christ—I fully expect that there are more to be added that I have missed and that are not covered by the ones present. Like any creed or confession they are born of trials and I have let them stand in my mind as good sense. I hope you find them a blessing.
Let the mercy we’ve received be the lens through which we see others. Let the rights we extend to each other be shaped not by fear or tradition, but by love.
For More Information Please Read The Christian’s Bill of Rights and Adjoining Articles.
This practice is as old as the Reagan Administration’s migrant policy in 1984, but became a topic of public outrage in 2017 when a picture surfaced that was supposedly of the first Trump Administration’s practices and was later revealed to be a picture from 2014 under Obama’s Administration. For More Information See this Timeline
I know…I was but a tender lamb in the spring of my youth and ignorance.