Can Christians Smoke Weed?
A surprising number of white evangelicals have changed their minds.
The following column is adapted from my forthcoming book What Are Drugs For? An Exploration of Stolen Fire. For a deeper analysis of the moral arguments around cannabis use, or more on drugs used in the Bible and in early Christian communities, you can pre-order at Barnes & Noble and get 25% off through June 26. My publisher tells me it is a sale Barnes & Noble uses to help determine whether they'll stock the book when it’s released. It’s a great way to save some money and help get the message out.
“Can Christians Smoke Weed?” asks a recent headline in Christianity Today. It did not surprise me that the author, Daniel Darling of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, answered the question with a firm “no,” with a little wiggle room for medical uses. What did surprise me was the Pew Research data cited in the piece: only 23% of Americans now say it is morally wrong to use “marijuana.” What the Darling hints at but doesn’t address directly is that only 33% of white evangelical Christians believe smoking marijuana is immoral. That number is down from 68% in 2006. Over two decades, that is a more dramatic shift than occurred for the general public.
This shift represents a collapse of a moral consensus that many assumed was a clear-cut question of Christian morality for decades (please note I wrote decades, not centuries). As whether or not using cannabis is immoral has long been a proxy for whether or not it should be illegal, this is an important shift. And it raises another question of interest for this audience: what arguments are still being made that cannabis or THC use is immoral, and do they hold up?
I want to be clear about something first. I fully support anyone who, because of personal conviction or prior negative experience, chooses to abstain from cannabis or drugs of any kind. But there is a significant difference between saying it might be prudent to abstain and saying, as Darling argues, “cannabis has no place in the life of a Christian.” Those are not the same claim, and that matters. From a public policy perspective, we treat things very differently when an action is considered definitively immoral versus when it is a matter of prudential judgment that may vary across intent of use, context, or individuals.
What does “drunkenness” actually mean?
Darling’s primary argument is a common one: people primarily use cannabis to get high, getting high is a form of intoxication, and Scripture strongly condemns intentional intoxication. Darling cites many Bible passages that warn against drunkenness and the stories in which it leads to terrible consequences. If you want to make a scriptural case against drunkenness, there is no shortage of material. And Darling is right to note that there was a strong and consistent Christian condemnation of drunkenness throughout Christian history.
But this raises the question: what exactly is drunkenness?
Darling personally abstains from alcohol, but he acknowledges Scripture allows for alcohol consumption within an ethic of moderation. What does that mean? Today, the widely accepted medical standard for moderate alcohol consumption is up to 14 drinks per week for men and up to 7 for women, with no more than 4 at a time. Although even these numbers are being challenged by researchers who argue no level of alcohol consumption should be considered safe.
More to the point: those are long-term health recommendations, not descriptions of effects on the central nervous system or motor function. If we define intoxication as any altered consciousness resulting from the ingestion of a drug, intoxication begins within ten minutes of consuming even small amounts of alcohol. Researchers can detect diminished motor function for many people after just one standard serving, depending on body weight.
The Christian tradition has consistently condemned drunkenness, but what that has meant has shifted considerably over time. Your average medieval peasant was drinking a gallon of low-alcohol ale per day. Puritans had monitors in their taverns to prevent excess and could punish overconsumption by forcing someone to wear a “D” for drunkard, yet those same Puritans drank cider or low-alcohol beer throughout the day because they considered water dangerous, and might also have a serving or two of rum in the evening. If you adopted the drinking habits of a Puritan and described them to your primary care physician today, they might recommend you consider treatment.
Do the four cups of wine traditionally consumed at a Seder constitute drunkenness? If Scripture condemns drunkenness, the answer must be no, and yet that quantity would put some people at or near a legal definition of intoxication when it comes to driving a car in the United States and well past the standard in other countries.1 What about Jesus, who made high-quality wine for guests who were already drinking at a wedding celebration? Scripture describes wine as something that “makes the heart glad.” Supplying more wine to people already drinking was not condemned as drunkenness but celebrated as abundance, even if the level of wine the guests consumed might have gotten them labeled as “drunk”.
Drunkenness is a term with diverse meaning, culturally and contextually specific. It denotes a harmful form of intoxication, and what counts as harmful has never been fixed.
The “getting high” argument
Darling claims that “while there are ways to consume alcohol without seeking intoxication, the sole purpose of recreational use of THC is to get high.” Again, this is a common Christian argument against the use of cannabis or any THC product. However, it is not entirely clear what that means without more precise definitions and does not seem to reflect how THC products actually work and how people use them.
Spend a few minutes in a dispensary or browse an online store selling hemp-derived THC products and you’ll find items organized not just by potency or route of administration but by effect: sleep, relaxation, pain relief, creativity, sociability. Some strains are marketed for increasing appetite; others specifically for not increasing appetite. THC use before exercise is increasingly common, and certain products are marketed for that purpose. As cannabis has long been used in religious rituals, one can find plenty of advice and guidance on what kind of cannabis to use and protocols for using cannabis as an aid in prayer and meditation. The word “high” is an umbrella term covering a wide range of specific, intentional uses, many of which are indistinguishable in purpose from the reasons people reach for a glass of wine.
A related argument holds that alcohol is different because it can be appreciated as a craft product. A good whiskey or wine is enjoyable for its excellence, with intoxication merely incidental. Cannabis, by contrast, is always ultimately about the chemical effect. While an interesting philosophical argument, it fails to account for how we experience the drug itself. Pure ethanol is a noxious substance; even its smell can make a person recoil, and most people only use it in highly diluted forms that mask the flavor of the drug. The flavors of wine and whiskey that people come to enjoy develop over time because of the alcohol's underlying chemical rewards. While plenty of people enjoy sweet flavors, most people aren’t born loving the taste of liquor. The enjoyment of the craft and the chemical effect are not separable.
What the Bible might actually say
Darling correctly notes there is no verse that says “Thou shalt not smoke weed.” But there is a more interesting question: does the Bible actually sanction the use of cannabis?
In the 1930s, the anthropologist Sula Benet proposed that the Hebrew word kaneh bosem should be identified as the cannabis plant and is listed as an ingredient in the holy anointing oil prescribed in Exodus. Most biblical scholars have not accepted this, and the etymological arguments are beyond my expertise, but I tend to be sympathetic to the view that the plant was likely calamus, as many scholars believe, rather than cannabis. What has shifted more recently is the archaeological evidence. A team of researchers analyzed residue on two altars in a shrine in what would have been the kingdom of Judah in the 8th century BCE. One held frankincense. The other held cannabis resin. There is now direct archaeological evidence that at least some early worship of YHWH involved burning cannabis in enclosed spaces.
Todd Miles, in Cannabis and the Christian, relegated this finding to a few sentences at the end of the book's appendix. He dismisses the find because, based on the approximate dating and geographic location, the temple might have been functioning outside of the sanction of the new centralized temple built by King Solomon. Thus, he concludes: “So it’s not as though marijuana was unknown in ancient biblical times. But if it was used in worship, our only record right now is that it was used in blasphemous idolatry.” While this is a possible interpretation, it is by no means conclusive. The entire argument is only one paragraph and seems to rest on the logic that the ritual use of a psychoactive substance is blasphemous idolatry; therefore, evidence for its use in a shrine dedicated to YHWH must indicate that this was not a legitimate center for worship.
However, this begs another question. Why would cannabis be problematic but the drug frankincense, which we know was burned as a part of sanctioned worship, be considered ok? Frankincense contains incensole acetate, a compound shown to have mood-altering effects on the brain. It is not merely aromatic, but an active pharmacological agent, particularly for those (like priests) inhaling concentrated smoke in an enclosed space over time. Furthermore, if someone is burning large amounts of plant matter inside of an enclosed space, as we learn in Exodus that priests were required to do, and at least some of the confirmed ingredients are psychoactive, by what standards would cannabis have been rejected?
A possible counter-argument is that cannabis is simply too potent to be treated like frankincense. But potency isn’t necessarily a disqualifying principle in Scripture or in Jewish or Christian history. The mandrake — which produces vivid hallucinations, induces sleep, and is potent enough to be classified as a poison today — is revered and praised in Scripture (Gen. 30:14–28; Song 7:13). It was also referenced positively in Jewish and early Christian sources: Josephus credited it with driving away evil spirits, and Basil the Great listed it alongside opium and hellebore as gifts from the Creator, even if they can be used for harm. Hildegard of Bingen even gave instructions for the ritual use of the plant as a treatment for depression.
Where I hope we go instead
The portion of the population that finds arguments against cannabis persuasive is shrinking rapidly and not only because of cultural drift. The arguments above only have a chance in a world disconnected from how and why most people use cannabis. Furthermore, while I respect a position of humble abstinence, these arguments promote an inconsistent abstinence with an air of spiritual pride and moral superiority. Acceptance of alcohol consumption and moral condemnation of cannabis is based on political, cultural, and social contingencies, not fundamental realities about the drug itself or consistent moral principles.
There are plenty of legitimate reasons to be cautious about cannabis use or to just not use it at all—just like with alcohol. The vast majority of cannabis users will use occasionally and in moderation, but a meaningful subset will use heavily, and likely experience negative long-term effects, and a smaller group will experience more rapid negative effects. We don’t know all of what to expect, as a lack of research and previous moral panics have clouded fact and fiction. What I can say with confidence is that there has never been a time in history when a psychoactive substance became rapidly more potent, cheaper, and more accessible without significant and sometimes unanticipated societal effects. That is a legitimate public health concern. Christian leaders should be concerned for those who will be harmed and do what they can to support and help. But the most effective ways of helping don’t need to involve criminalization of cannabis or stigmatization of anyone who chooses to consume. To say that using cannabis is morally permissible is not the same as to say it is always wise or that there won’t be myriad forms of potential harm—just as we see with alcohol.
If there is a compelling argument for why alcohol consumption is inherently morally permissible, and cannabis is not, I have not seen it. What I hope for instead is more energy devoted to a broadened understanding of how and why people use drugs, deeper investment in public health measures that protect individual freedom while reducing harm, and a willingness to let the actual evidence — historical, scientific, and yes, scriptural — lead wherever it goes.
Pre-order What Are Drugs For? An Exploration of Stolen Fire at Barnes & Noble and get 25% off through June 26.
Rev. Timothy McMahan King is a deacon in the Episcopal Church, a writer, nonprofit professional, senior fellow for Clergy for a New Drug Policy, and owner of Vagabond Strategies. He is the author of What Are Drugs For? An Exploration of Stolen Fire (2026) and Addiction Nation (2019).
Founded by Rev. Alexander E. Sharp, the mission of Clergy for a New Drug Policy is to mobilize clergy nationally on behalf of an agenda that ends the War on Drugs by allocating resources to education, treatment, and public safety.
Ancient wine was lower in alcohol content than wine today, but also varied more widely in overall potency, as it might have included additives for both flavor and effect.

