The Eight Laws of Health

God “giveth to all life, and breath, and all things.” (Acts 17:25.) Man became “a living soul” only when God “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” (Genesis 2:7); breath is thus part of his very constitution, without which he has no life in him at all. Every cell in the body depends on a continual exchange between the air and the blood, so that wastes may be carried off and fresh supplies brought in. Air that is pure, moving, and touched with the freshness of the natural world is one of the simplest and most neglected gifts God has given for the renewing of the blood.

To honour this law is to seek, so far as our circumstances allow, to live and work in spaces where the air is changed and refreshed, not shut up and breathed over and over. It means opening windows, airing rooms, stepping outside daily, and avoiding the habit of crowding into warm, close, unventilated places for long periods. It means remembering that the body does not sleep well in air that has been sealed in, and that long hours in stale indoor air burden the blood and dull the mind.

To violate this law is to treat air as an afterthought—to spend days and nights in shut rooms, to fear fresh air as an enemy, or to rely on artificial scents and devices to mask what only opening and cleansing can remedy. When we do this, we are in effect asking the blood to carry on its work with one of its chief helps withheld. Over time, the system is more easily wearied, more prone to congestion, and less able to tend to disease-conditions when they arise.

From the first page of the Bible, light is set forth as the first of God’s creation: “And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.” (Genesis 1:3.) Our bodies are not made for perpetual shade. Sunlight, in right measure and at seasonable times, warms and quickens the skin, supports the building up of bone and blood, helps to regulate the rhythms of waking and sleeping, and bears upon the mind’s cheerfulness and steadiness. It is one of God’s simple, free remedies.

To honour this law is to make a habit of receiving sunlight as part of the day’s ordinary pattern—to step out into the morning light, to uncover the skin suitably when and where it can be done modestly and wisely, to keep dwellings from being forever shuttered and darkened, and to order our work so that we are not always indoors while the sun is up and then over-stimulated under artificial light at night. It is to treat the sun as a servant of God for our good, not as an enemy to be avoided at all costs.

To violate this law is to live in a way that keeps the skin almost always covered from light, to rise late and sit long under cold artificial light while neglecting the day outside, or to move from house to vehicle to workplace with scarcely a moment in the sun. On the other extreme, it is to abuse the gift by reckless exposure that burns and injures rather than strengthens. In both cases, we refuse to use as appointed one of the simplest means by which God blesses and sustains the blood, the bones, and the mind.

Scripture and the spirit of prophecy lay unusual weight on appetite and indulgence. “Be not among winebibbers; among riotous eaters of flesh: for the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty.” (Proverbs 23:20–21.) Temperance is included in “the fruit of the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:22–23.) Intemperance in eating, drinking, labour, rest, and pleasure burdens the blood, dulls the mind, and weakens the power to discern and obey. Temperance is more than moderation in what is lawful; it is total abstinence from what is harmful as well as careful, self-denying use of what is good.

To honour this law is to bring the appetites and habits under the rule of conscience enlightened by God’s Word. It is to refuse stimulants and narcotics that falsely whip the system, to lay aside intoxicating drinks, tobacco, and other poisons, and to put away those indulgences which we know confuse the mind and stir up unlawful desires. It is to eat at proper times, to avoid overeating and between-meal grazing, to order our work and rest so that the body is not driven to the point of collapse, and to keep pleasures within their rightful bounds.

To violate this law is to put appetite in the place of God—to eat and drink whatever and whenever we please, to work without regard to the body’s needs, to live in constant stimulation and indulgence, all the while asking God for clear minds and strong bodies. Many of the disease-conditions that afflict men and women in our time are traceable, in greater or lesser degree, to deeply rooted habits of intemperance. Temperance, on the other hand, is of the fruit of the Spirit, a moral duty, as well as a law of health.

God has written rest into the very order of creation. “On the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day… And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it.” (Genesis 2:2–3.) He later commanded, “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy,” and set apart the seventh day as a Sabbath of rest unto the Lord. (Exodus 20:8–11.) The nervous system, the hormones, the blood, and the organs of elimination all have their times of building up and repair, which are hindered or prevented when we refuse rest.

To honour this law is to submit our time to God’s order—to keep the Sabbath holy, not as a mere form but as a real cessation from ordinary work; to keep regular hours for going to rest and rising; to allow ourselves sufficient sleep in the hours when the body is best suited for it; and to intersperse the day’s labour with fitting pauses. It means recognizing that the human frame is not built for continual press of work, noise, and stimulus without relief.

To violate this law is to treat ourselves as if we were machines—to work late into the night as a habit, to live in continual hurry, to crowd both Sabbath and weekday with the same labours, to carry “screens and schemes” to bed with us so that the mind never truly rests. In doing so, we waste what God is ready to do in the blood and nerves during hours appointed for repair, and should not be surprised when the system begins to fray and protest under the strain.

We are not made to live chiefly in chairs. From the very beginning, man was set in the garden “to dress it and to keep it.” (Genesis 2:15.) Regular, suitable movement helps the blood to circulate, the lymph to flow, the lungs to fill and empty, the digestion to work, and the nerves to discharge their strain. It is one of the most ordinary ways by which the body is regulated in its processes of maintenance.

To honour this law is to make movement a settled part of life—to walk, to work with the hands, to use the large muscles of the body each day in ways proportioned to age and strength. It is not necessary to pursue extremes of athleticism; indeed, such extremes can be a form of intemperance. But it is necessary to avoid the torpor of a life spent almost entirely sitting, lying, or being carried, and to remember that gentle, regular movement in the open air does more for the blood and the mind than many an elaborate “health treatment.”

To violate this law is to live in such a way that the body is rarely called to honest exertion—to substitute mere mental or digital activity for the kind of work that quickens the pulse and brings a slight glow to the skin; to treat the body as a mere perch for the mind. Over time, this fosters sluggish circulation and weakens muscle and bone. The breath is shortened and made shallow, the bowels become irregular leading to indigestion, and over time, the system is less able to respond to the remedies God has provided in the other laws.

God has supplied the earth with foods suited to the needs of the human frame. In the beginning, man’s appointed diet was wholly from the plant kingdom: “Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed… and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.” (Genesis 1:29.) After the fall, the ground was cursed for man’s sake, and it was said, “Thou shalt eat the herb of the field” (Genesis 3:18), so that the greens of the earth were added in mercy to sustain him in a world of toil and sorrow. Flesh-meats were never part of God’s original plan for man’s nourishment, but were later permitted only under restricted conditions in a fallen world. The closer we keep to the simple, nourishing, unadulterated products of the ground, prepared in a wholesome and temperate way, the more easily the blood can be built up and kept pure.

To honour this law is to choose, so far as we are able, foods that are simple, from the plant kingdom, as free as possible from refinement, additives, and stimulants, and eaten at proper times in suitable amounts. It is to regard meals as times for calm, thankful receiving of God’s provision, not as constant entertainment or self-indulgence. It is to recognize that what we habitually eat and drink is steadily written into the blood and, through the blood, into every tissue of the body.

To violate this law is to make the stomach a constant laboratory for rich, highly seasoned, stimulating, or denatured foods; to live on what is quick, fashionable, or indulgent rather than on what is truly nourishing; to eat at all hours and in all moods; to make sweets, fast foods, and stimulants the ordinary fare. Many disease-conditions of our time find their roots here. We cannot trifle with appetite and expect the blood and organs to remain unburdened.

Water is one of God’s most common and most neglected remedies. “He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills.” (Psalm 104:10.) Internally, it serves as the great solvent and carrier; externally, it cleanses the skin and refreshes the nerves. The blood and all the fluids of the body depend on an adequate and regular supply of pure water. The organs of elimination cannot do their work well without it.

To honour this law is to make a habit of drinking pure water—clean, and as free as may be from harmful contaminants, with its natural properties preserved—in sufficient quantity between meals; to avoid substituting stimulants, sweet drinks, and highly flavoured beverages where water is what the system truly needs; and to use water outwardly in bathing, cleansing, and simple hydrotherapy as occasion requires. It is to keep in mind that the body’s signals of thirst and heaviness may often be pointing, not to another cup of coffee or tea, but to the need for water.

To violate this law is to live almost always partially dehydrated, to burden the blood and kidneys with constant intake of sugar-laden or stimulant drinks while very little plain water is taken, or to neglect cleanliness of the skin and clothing. Such habits increase the work of organs that are already strained and contribute to the accumulation of wastes that need to be carried away.

Above and through all these laws stands the question of trust. “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.” (Proverbs 17:22.) The mind and spirit are not separate from the body’s condition. Fear, fretting, resentment, and continual anxiety disturb the working of every organ; faith, submission, and implicit trust in God tend to steady the nerves, ease the circulation, and give the body a more favourable condition in which to heal and to serve.

To honour this law is to receive God as He has revealed Himself in His Word— to trust His character, His providence, and His promises; to bring cares to Him in prayer; to repent when He convicts; to thank Him for mercies; and to commit the keeping of our bodies and our days into His hand. “Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God,” and the promise stands that “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6–7.) It is to refuse the unbelieving habit of carrying all burdens ourselves, as if there were no heavenly Father who knows our frame and remembers that we are dust.

To violate this law is to live as if the world, the body, and the outcome of every matter rested entirely on our own strength or on the shifting powers of the age; to feed the mind continually on fears, angers, and suspicions; to dwell on what God has not given instead of on what He has. “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you” (1 Peter 5:7) is not an ornament to the life of faith, but a command. In such a state, even good laws of health are harder to keep and less fruitful. Trust in divine power does not make obedience unnecessary; it makes obedience living rather than anxious.