In 2018, the U.S. Supreme Court passed down a decision that would have some of the widest-reaching consequences of any case in recent memory. Unlike other prominent cases, this case did not touch on abortion, gay marriage, or religious liberty. Instead, it was a seemingly innocuous case testing the bounds of the 10th Amendment, questioning whether the federal government has the authority to control state lawmaking over gambling. 

In Murphy v. National Collegiate Athletic Association, the state of New Jersey sued for the right to allow sports wagering within the state. In an earlier case, which it lost, New Jersey challenged the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act of 1992, arguing that PASPA unconstitutionally discriminated against states. In the case that would eventually land before the Supreme Court, New Jersey turned to the 10th Amendment, claiming that the states had power over their own internal gambling and betting laws.  

Principled defenders of federalism might rejoice at the federal government being limited in its scope and power. Perhaps it’s true that Congress ought not be telling states how to administer their gaming systems, or lack thereof. But putting aside the merits of the case, the fallout from Murphy v. National Collegiate Athletic Association has been nothing less than catastrophic. 

In March 2025, American Psychiatric Association polling data suggested that “over a quarter of American adults (28%) have a daily habit of gambling online. Of adults who gamble daily, the majority are men (36% of men reported online gambling for at least a few minutes daily, whereas only 20% of women said the same), but men were more likely to report limiting their gambling than women.” 

By some estimates, this problem is exacerbated among younger age demographics; college-aged men, a prime audience for both sports and gambling advertisements, are by all accounts enamored with phone betting apps such as DraftKings. While we do not have reliable statistics that break down gender and age, younger men seem to be gambling at far higher rates than their older counterparts. Put simply, if you know a young man with a smartphone in a state with legal sports betting, the odds are that he is placing bets on major sporting events regularly, weekly, or even daily. 

What are the harms? 

The consequences are drastic. While states enjoy collecting dramatic tax revenues as a result of legalizing and regulating gambling, multiple studies have shown broader harms. One study found “substantial increases in bankruptcy rates, debt collections, debt consolidation loans, and auto delinquencies” in states that legalized sports betting, a troubling sign for the downstream economic effects of a state-permitted vice. Other studies have found a marked rise in domestic violence and other crimes on gamedays, particularly when there are close games or upsets. 

This means that the rise in the number of people gambling has not simply resulted in people diverting their entertainment spending towards a new pastime, nor is the harm limited to the individual gambling. Instead, the harm spills over to the family, the community, the state, and the nation as more people are consumed by gambling’s addictive tendencies and lash out at their loved ones as a result. 

America’s propensity for gambling is nothing new. In his landmark work “Democracy in America,” Alexis de Tocqueville noted a peculiar characteristic of Americans:  they are jackpot-seekers, always hunting for the next opportunity, the next chance to strike it big. This spirit has arguably animated many prominent features of American history like Westward Expansion. Today we see it in cryptocurrency schemes and now widespread legalized sports betting. 

The difference, perhaps, is that certain aspects of the ambitious American spirit have had healthy, or at least productive, outlets in history. Gambling, by contrast, seems to have brought with it great destruction in exchange for increased tax revenues. Online gambling and sports betting have seduced people who would not have gambled previously, and the aforementioned financial and familial consequences are the result. 

What’s so bad about gambling? 

What we are seeing today is a result of rejecting the prudence of yesterday. Left unchecked, legalized gambling and blanket advertising will lead more people to gamble (surely these companies would not spend millions on advertising unless that advertising had a positive effect). Gambling’s associated harms will spread more widely, hurting far more Americans than were hurt when gambling was relegated to the shadows. 

Perhaps more importantly, few Christians have considered the theological questions of gambling, namely whether or not professing Christians should be habitually engaging in it. As T. David Gordon has noted, however, our forebears in the Reformed tradition would not have regarded gambling as something indifferent. Instead, the Westminster Larger Catechism seems to consider questions of “lawful employment” and “wasteful gaming” to be within the scope of the acts required and sins forbidden by the 8th Commandment. 

The Westminster Divines who composed the catechism were certain that the second “table” of the law, primarily governing conduct between human beings, went beyond narrowly forbidding active thievery. Instead, the 8th Commandment encompassed and commanded a scope of right Christian action and prohibited a range of sinful actions that went beyond more traditional “stealing.” Where the WLC speaks of “lawful callings,” Gordon argues, it implies there are such things as “unlawful callings.” 

A close reading of the WLC’s interpretation of the 8th Commandment would lead us to conclude that there are legitimate, virtuous ways to make money, and there are also illegitimate, sinful ways to make money. It seems apparent that, historically speaking, Reformed folk would consider money made via gambling to be made illegitimately and sinfully. 

What is to be done?

This moral approach to sports betting may appear to many today to be quaint, on level with attempts by Puritans in Massachusetts to ban the game of shuffleboard as an occasion of drunkenness and gambling. The latent skepticism towards this view would suggest a troubling disconnect from both historic Reformed theology and the problems associated with gambling and other sins related to finances and might warrant serious study and reflection in our churches today.

I am a layman, so my advice to pastors can only be limited and prudential. That said, for pastors confronting this problem, the WLC may prove a helpful resource, but so too may be a set of practical considerations. Many of those who engage in gambling may view it as harmless, a form of recreation that can be legitimately pursued if done in a budgeted, moderate way. Others may view it as a potential avenue for financial reward. 

In both cases, as with all addictive vices, pastors should draw their congregants’ minds to future-oriented considerations. For example, for young men: do you imagine using your spare financial resources will make finding a godly wife easier or more difficult? For older, married men: do you think establishing a firm financial foundation for your children will be easier or more difficult if you devote time and money to gambling? 

It is difficult to overstate sports betting’s pervasiveness and harm in our current climate. I would hope that Christians, particularly in the Reformed tradition, are less likely than others to engage in such activities, but I take sin too seriously to think this problem does not infect many congregations.

I encourage our ministers to stay abreast of the issue as more states move toward legalization, engage in active conversation with their congregants about the issue, and consider pursuing studies in historical theology focused on gambling to shore up our denomination’s resistance to harmful, worldly trends. 

Philip D. Bunn serves as assistant professor of political science at Covenant College in Lookout Mountain, Georgia.