A couple days ago, we examined the Medicaid work requirements tucked into the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. Now, it’s time to roll up our sleeves and take a biblically grounded, no-nonsense look at a similar provision in the same bill: the new work requirements for SNAP, better known as food stamps.

The provision introduces several significant changes aimed at promoting personal responsibility and reducing long-term dependency on government assistance. First and foremost, it expands the age range for mandatory work requirements. Under current law, able-bodied adults without dependents (ABAWDs) between the ages of 18 and 49 must work or participate in a qualifying job training program for at least 80 hours per month to remain eligible for SNAP. The new legislation raises the upper age limit to 64, thereby including individuals aged 50 to 64 in this mandate.

Additionally, the bill modifies the exemption for parents with children. Presently, parents with children under the age of six are exempt from work requirements. The new policy extends that exemption to parents with children under age seven.

Another major change involves the flexibility currently granted to states. Today, states can apply for waivers to suspend work requirements in areas experiencing high unemployment or a lack of job opportunities. Under the new rules, that flexibility would be dramatically reduced. States would face stricter guidelines and fewer opportunities to bypass work mandates, even if local economic conditions are unfavorable.

These reforms reflect a clear intention: to reframe SNAP as a bridge back to self-reliance rather than a long-term lifestyle. From a biblical and conservative perspective, this aligns with the principle that assistance should come with accountability. While compassion for the truly needy remains essential, so too does the moral duty to promote work, integrity, and responsible stewardship of public resources.

The Case for the Work Requirements

Upholding the Biblical Work Ethic

Let’s begin with what should be the foundation of any serious discussion on welfare policy: the biblical view of work. The Apostle Paul doesn’t mince words in 2 Thessalonians 3:10: “For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat.” That’s not just a suggestion, that’s a command. And it’s crystal clear.

Work is not some modern invention of capitalism or a tool of political ideology. It’s a God-ordained responsibility and a core part of human purpose. In Genesis, before there was sin, before the fall, God placed Adam in the garden “to dress it and to keep it” (Genesis 2:15). In other words, labor is not a punishment. It’s part of what it means to bear the image of God. He’s a Creator, a Builder, a Sustainer, and He made us to follow suit.

This SNAP reform isn’t about being harsh; it’s about restoring the dignity of work. It sends the message that if you’re able-bodied and capable, your role in society is not just to take, but to contribute. It’s a move away from a culture of dependency and toward a culture of responsibility.

When government aid becomes a way of life rather than a temporary bridge, it undermines the work ethic, weakens the family, and erodes communities. Encouraging work requirements isn’t about punishing the poor, it’s about affirming their potential. Work gives structure, meaning, and the chance to build a future. And let’s be honest, there’s no dignity in being stuck in a cycle of handouts. There’s great dignity, however, in rising to meet one’s obligations and discovering what you’re capable of through honest labor.

This policy reflects that deeper truth. It’s not about bureaucracy; it’s about biblical principle. It’s not cruelty, it’s character.

Protecting the Integrity of Assistance Programs

Charity without accountability turns into entitlement, and unchecked entitlement becomes a drain, not just on our wallets, but on our national soul. The purpose of programs like SNAP is noble: to be a safety net for those in genuine need. But when that net turns into a hammock for the able-bodied who choose not to contribute, the system begins to collapse under its own weight.

Extending work requirements to able-bodied adults without dependents helps reinforce a fundamental truth: government assistance should be a lifeline, not a lifestyle. When welfare becomes generational, it ceases to uplift and instead begins to trap. The very people these programs were designed to help end up stuck in a cycle of dependency, robbed of the pride that comes with earning your way.

Adding a work or job training requirement doesn’t punish the poor, it protects the truly needy by ensuring that resources aren’t wasted on those who simply won’t lift a finger. It helps safeguard limited taxpayer dollars and restores public trust in welfare programs. When the system has integrity, the people are more willing to support it. When it’s abused, it fuels resentment and political division.

And let’s not forget that requiring effort alongside aid is a biblical model. Even in the Old Testament, God commanded that the poor be allowed to glean from the edges of the fields (Leviticus 23:22). But He didn’t tell landowners to harvest it for them. They had to do the work. The provision was there, but so was the expectation of effort.

This reform isn’t about being stingy, it’s about being stewards. It says, “We’ll help you, but we expect you to help yourself, too.” That’s not harsh. That’s just honest.

Stewardship of Public Resources

America’s national debt is rising at an unsustainable pace, threatening our economic stability and burdening future generations with obligations they did not create. We’re racking up trillions in obligations while pretending the tab will magically pay itself. It won’t. Every dollar Uncle Sam hands out is borrowed from our kids, our grandkids, and probably our great-grandkids too. That’s not generosity, that’s generational theft.

Extending work requirements for SNAP isn’t about pinching pennies, it’s about restoring a sense of balance and fiscal responsibility. Programs that give without expectation breed dependence and waste. But programs that pair assistance with action—like requiring work, training, or community service—create a path from reliance to resilience.

Taxpayers deserve to know their hard-earned money is helping people get back on their feet, not helping them stay stuck on the couch. Every dollar we save through smarter policy is a dollar that can go toward real needs: our veterans, our infrastructure, our future.

Work requirements help shift the system from a drain to an investment. They’re a way of saying, “We’ll support you, but let’s work together to get you moving forward.” That’s not just economics; it’s biblical stewardship in action. We’re called to be wise with what we’ve been given, and that includes our tax dollars. Waste isn’t compassion, it’s negligence. And America can’t afford any more of that.

The Case Against the Work Requirements

Health and Economic Realities for Older Adults

Many folks in their late 50s and early 60s face a unique set of challenges that younger workers simply don’t. This age group often grapples with chronic health conditions: arthritis, heart disease, diabetes, or the general wear and tear that comes from decades of labor. Mobility may be limited, and stamina isn’t what it was at 30. For some, the idea of standing on their feet for an eight-hour shift isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s physically impossible.

Then there’s the job market. Age discrimination, while illegal on paper, is alive and well in practice. Employers often prefer younger, tech-savvy candidates who are seen as more adaptable or cheaper to insure. Older workers who lose a job can face months—sometimes years—of fruitless searching. Reskilling at that stage of life isn’t impossible, but it’s a tall mountain to climb, especially without support.

Not everyone in this demographic is freeloading or looking for a handout. Many have worked hard for decades, paid their taxes, raised families, and contributed to society. Some are simply caught in a tough stretch, laid off, dealing with medical issues, or caring for an ailing spouse.

If we’re not careful, applying a blanket work requirement up to age 64 could end up punishing people right when they’re most vulnerable. It’s one thing to encourage responsibility; it’s another to ignore reality. Any policy aimed at promoting work should also make room for grace, ensuring that exceptions and support systems are in place for those genuinely unable to meet the demands due to health or circumstance.

A just society—especially one shaped by Christian values—doesn’t turn its back on the struggling. It lifts them up, holds them accountable when needed, but always tempers law with mercy. That’s the balance we ought to seek.

Bureaucratic Nightmares and Paperwork Pitfalls

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: bureaucracy. Anyone who’s tried to renew a license, file for benefits, or just call a government office without getting stuck in voicemail purgatory knows what we’re dealing with. It’s not always a lack of willingness to work that knocks people off the SNAP rolls, it’s the maze of red tape that trips them up.

Past implementations of work requirements have shown a troubling pattern: people lose access to benefits not because they’re dodging work, but because they miss a deadline, misunderstand a form, or get caught in a paperwork shuffle. Some never even receive proper notice. Others file everything correctly, only to have it lost in a sea of inefficient processing. And when appeals or corrections are needed, good luck. Responses can take weeks or months, leaving people without food assistance in the meantime.

This isn’t just inefficient; it’s unjust. Reforms meant to encourage responsibility shouldn’t hinge on one’s ability to master bureaucratic gymnastics. For older adults, those with limited literacy, or folks in rural areas without reliable internet access, navigating these systems can be nearly impossible. Add language barriers or cognitive challenges into the mix, and you’re no longer evaluating work ethic, you’re punishing vulnerability.

This isn’t meaningful reform, it’s red tape dressed up as policy, barbed wire and all. If the goal is to promote work and responsibility, then the system should be clear, accessible, and responsive, not a trapdoor waiting to snap shut. Integrity in administration is just as important as integrity in eligibility.

As Christian conservatives, we should demand both accountability and competence. If we’re going to tie food assistance to work, the least we can do is make sure the system doesn’t fail the very people it’s supposed to help. Compassion isn’t just about writing checks, it’s about making sure the system works with integrity and efficiency, too.

Harm to Rural and Low-Income Communities

Work requirements may sound good on paper, but policies don’t operate in a vacuum. In many rural areas and economically depressed communities, jobs are not just scarce, they’re nearly nonexistent. When you apply the same rules to a single mom in a city with a robust job market and a 60-year-old man in a struggling town with shuttered factories and one grocery store, you’re not promoting fairness, you’re enforcing frustration.

In these regions, it’s not unusual for public transportation to be unreliable or entirely absent. Internet access is patchy at best, making online job applications or training courses a luxury, not a given. Job training programs are often far away, underfunded, or capped due to limited local resources. Employers may be few and far between, and even when jobs do exist, they may not accommodate older workers or those with physical limitations.

When work requirements are imposed without consideration for local economic conditions, they stop being a tool for empowerment and start becoming a blunt instrument of punishment. You’re no longer measuring effort; you’re measuring ZIP codes. That’s not conservative governance, that’s centralized overreach dressed up as reform.

This is especially problematic for communities already facing generational poverty. A one-size-fits-all policy fails to recognize the deep-rooted structural barriers many low-income families face. People in these areas aren’t asking for a free ride, they’re asking for a fair shot. And when the policy penalizes them for circumstances beyond their control, it breaks the social contract and undermines trust in government.

We’re called to apply justice with wisdom and compassion. Proverbs 31:9 tells us to “plead the cause of the poor and needy.” That includes understanding the realities they face. A truly just policy doesn’t just ask, “Are you working?” It also asks, “Is there work to be done, and can you get to it?”

If we want a policy that promotes work, it must also ensure opportunity. Anything less risks turning a well-intentioned reform into an unjust burden.

Conclusion: Principle Meets Practicality

Here’s the bottom line: as an independent Christian conservative, I hold firm to the belief that work is sacred, not just as a means to earn a living, but as a reflection of God’s design for human purpose. I value personal responsibility, limited but effective government, and the importance of fostering self-reliance over sustained dependency. I believe in lifting up the truly needy, not propping up idleness.

The provision in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act that extends SNAP work requirements to age 64 reflects those values. It promotes a biblical work ethic, guards taxpayer resources, and affirms the dignity of every able-bodied individual by encouraging them to participate in the workforce. That’s a moral good, not a political trick.

But while the principle is sound, implementation must be rooted in wisdom and compassion. There must be clear, consistent exemptions for individuals facing genuine barriers to employment, such as chronic illness, disability, caregiving responsibilities, or job scarcity in rural or distressed areas. No one should be punished for what they can’t control. Likewise, states and local communities should be empowered and resourced to provide realistic pathways to work, including access to training, transportation, and support services.

This policy isn’t about cutting people off; it’s about calling them up. The goal is not to reduce the SNAP rolls for the sake of numbers, but to reduce the need for SNAP by helping more Americans stand on their own two feet. That’s not just sound policy, that’s righteous stewardship. That’s how we balance grace with grit.

In the end, this provision—like the broader bill it’s housed in—isn’t flawless. But it marks a meaningful step toward a system that rewards effort, honors human dignity, and aligns with the enduring truths of Scripture. In a time when politics often feels like a circus act with no ringmaster, that kind of clarity is rare, and yes, even a little bit beautiful.