A Nation Watches as One of Its Most Respected Leaders Goes to the Supreme Court for Speaking Her Faith
The case of Finnish MP Päivi Räsänen is more than a legal battle; it’s a test of Europe’s commitment to democratic values.
As one of Finland’s most respected politicians, Päivi now faces the Finnish Supreme Court for peacefully expressing her Christian beliefs online.
Her story is a powerful reminder of what it means to be a Christian in today’s pervasive culture of censorship. It also demonstrates unwavering faith in the face of prosecution and punishment for so-called “hate speech”.
ADF International is proud to stand alongside Päivi as her legal ordeal reaches its 6th year.
A Life of Conviction
Päivi was still a very young girl when her parents decided she could go to the church in their small village of Konnunsuo, just inside the Finnish border from Russia. It’s a region known for hundreds of beautiful lakes and one less beautiful prison, where Päivi’s father worked, tending the gardens. While he and his wife were not Christians, they respected the faith and didn’t feel it would do little Päivi any harm to learn a bit of the Bible.
Time would prove them both wrong and right about that, but as a child, Päivi was fascinated with the things she learned in those Sunday morning classes.
“It was very, very affecting and important for me,” she remembers, nearly six decades later. “I was about 5 or 6 years old, and I remember well, even at that age, those talks the teachers shared with us about Jesus.”
Biblical concepts like grace and sin, salvation and judgment, she says, “were so concrete. Even as a small child, you have to think about these issues. And I remember praying that I would have my sins forgiven, and that Jesus would come into my life.”
How seriously Päivi took her new conversion became clear shortly afterward, when the prison warden came riding along the road by her family’s house on his bicycle. She urgently waved for him to stop. He did, looking down into her big, earnest, little-girl eyes to ask what was wrong.
“Do you love Jesus?” she asked. “You can’t get to heaven if you do not know Him.”
Embarrassed, the warden looked around and saw Päivi’s mother, standing nearby. “You should take your baby out of that Sunday school today!” he yelled. “Before she loses her mind!”
If her mother was concerned about her husband’s boss’s opinion, she didn’t show it. Päivi stayed in Sunday school. But it was by no means the last time Päivi spoke up for her faith. Or drew sharp opposition for doing so.
The Start of Päivi’s Career
Although she went to the University of Helsinki to study medicine, Päivi spent at least as much time there sharing her faith. For five years, she led a student missionary group in weekly door-to-door visits around campus, drawing other young people into discussions about moral values and cheerfully engaging them with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
“It was an important time in my life,” she remembers, “an important schooling. Every week, I was discussing quite difficult issues with students from different backgrounds and areas of study. I had to think very thoroughly about how my faith stands — how the Bible stands — in the face of these difficult questions. I learned to discuss ideas. I learned to debate.”
Her extracurricular evangelism also changed her life in another way. Twice during those years, Päivi joined other Christian students from all over Finland on mission trips to London, led by a tall, smiling young man named Niilo Räsänen.
He and Päivi took a shine to each other, began to date, and soon were married. They went on to raise four daughters and a son, as Niilo became a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church and head of one of the denomination’s seminaries.
Päivi, meanwhile, went into general practice medicine. She quickly developed a reputation as both an excellent doctor and a thoughtful, outspoken defender of life.
“I had decided already during my studies that I would not end the life of a child in the womb,” she says. In her spare time, she wrote books and pamphlets on the subject. That led to television and radio appearances, where she drew on those debate skills she’d honed back in college. Her strong, winsome arguments began to attract wide attention. People asked if she was interested in standing for office — perhaps campaigning for a seat in Parliament.
“At first I refused,” she says. “I thought it was not my place.” But people continued to urge her to run … and one of those urging was her husband.
“Actually, I think I was the first,” Niilo says. “But she wasn’t interested.” One day, though, he drove her through Helsinki, past the building where Parliament met. He pointed at the building. “Look at your future workplace,” he told her.
The 1990s brought a severe economic recession to Finland. Päivi’s patients were hit hard by what was happening and often poured out their worries to her.
“I could see a lot of problems in people’s lives,” she says — problems born of what was happening in her country’s politics and culture. “I thought I would like to try and influence the society and improve the welfare of the people. To not only give them medicine, but to try to heal the consequences of these problems.”
A person in Parliament could do that, she decided. The next time someone suggested she stand for office, Päivi was ready. “I answered, ‘Yes.’”
Päivi as a Parliamentarian
Päivi Räsänen has served continually in the Finnish Parliament since 1995. For 11 of those years, she acted as chairman of the Christian Democrats, a party she chose for its support of her Christian values and unswerving opposition to abortion. For four years, she also served as her nation’s minister of the interior, overseeing internal national security and migration issues.
“I have felt, very deeply, that this has been my calling,” she says. “I’ve been happy to have the opportunity to influence our society, our country, and to try to make better living conditions for people, especially families and children and the elderly.
“In some ways, it is very similar to working as a doctor. People come to you to talk about their problems, and then you try to find some solution. That’s been my work in Parliament.” She’s learned, she says, that “politics is one way to show love to your neighbour.”
You might think that attitude would have enhanced Päivi’s interactions with Finland’s religious leaders — “church affairs” was another aspect of her responsibilities as minister of the interior, and her work brought her into contact with most of the prominent clerics of her country.
Still, even knowing these leaders so well, she was stunned to learn, in the summer of 2019, that the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland — her own denomination and the one in which her husband served as a pastor — had pledged its full support for an upcoming Helsinki Pride event.
“I knew that our church at that time was already quite divided,” Päivi says, “and there was a lot of progressive liberal thinking among our pastors.” Still, “that the whole church leadership had decided to support the event, publicly and financially, was a strong disappointment to me — and to many other Christians.”
Many friends confided to her their intention to resign from the church. Päivi seriously considered joining them. “I was praying, ‘What should I do now? Should I leave the church, too?’”
The Tweet That Sparked a Trial
But, on her knees, her Bible open before her, “I received a very clear vision,” Päivi says, “that now was not my time to jump out of this sinking boat — that I should try to wake people up. I was especially worried about our young people losing their trust in the Bible, with the leadership of the church teaching something so much against what the Bible teaches.”
“What the Bible teaches.” After a moment, she reached for her cell phone, turned to Romans 1:24-27, and snapped a photo. She pulled up her X (formerly Twitter) account, attached the picture, called it to the attention of the Evangelical Lutheran leadership, and added one simple question:
“How does the doctrine of the church, the Bible, fit together with the fact that shame and sin are raised as a matter of pride?”
She pressed “Tweet.”
And her life changed, forever.
Päivi’s communique thoroughly rocked “the boat” and woke up everyone in it. Including Päivi.
A few weeks after she had posted the tweet, she opened a newspaper and read — to her astonishment — that local police had received a complaint about her message and were investigating. Their evidence would determine whether the nation’s chief prosecutor would bring her to trial for her beliefs.
“At first, I didn’t believe it,” Päivi says. “I thought, ‘No, no, this must be from a summer intern who doesn’t know what he’s saying.’” But a call to her local precinct confirmed that officers were indeed looking into the matter. When could she come in and speak with them?
Over the next few months, Päivi would be required to sit for a total of 13 hours of police interrogation.
“It was an absurd situation,” she remembers, “sitting there in a small room in the station, being interrogated about my Christian beliefs.” The policeman asking questions kept an open Bible on the table between them. He pointed at it as he probed her theology: “What is Romans about?” “Tell me about the first chapter.” “Walk me through Genesis.” “Explain this word, ‘sin.’”
Päivi found the whole thing almost laughable. “Just a few years before, I was the [cabinet] minister in charge of police, and now I was sitting here, being interrogated.” But the people of Finland understood what was happening: one of the most well-known political figures in their country was being detained at police headquarters for quoting Scripture to bishops.
“Someone joked on social media that maybe we were going to have Bible studies at the police station,” Päivi says, smiling. “But … these discussions were very good. I had the opportunity to [share with] that policeman very thoroughly the teachings of the Bible, from Genesis to the message of the Gospel … because he asked me to.
“Do you really want to hear this?” she asked him. “Because this has been such an important book to me. When I read it, I understand the message of the Gospel: that Jesus has died for my sins.”
“It was lovely,” she says, smiling, “telling that to the policeman.”
She left an impression. “If it were up to me,” he told her, after their last discussion, “you wouldn’t be sitting here. I hope we don’t have to meet like this again.”
Charged With “Hate Speech”
They didn’t. But Päivi had to wait more than a year to learn that the Finnish prosecutor general was formally charging her with three counts of “agitation against a minority group” — one, for publicly voicing her opinion on marriage and human sexuality in a 2004 pamphlet distributed at her church; two, for comments she made on the same topics on a 2019 radio show; and three, for the tweet directed at the leadership of her church.
Under Finland’s criminal code, “agitation against a minority group” falls under the section of “war crimes and crimes against humanity” punishable by tens of thousands of dollars in fines — and up to two years in prison.
Päivi knows better than most the penalty for breaking this particular law. After all, she was a member of the Finnish Parliament when it unanimously adopted these changes to the country’s criminal code 13 years ago.
“In Finland, as in all European countries, you have a law that prohibits so-called ‘hate speech,’” says Elyssa Koren, legal communications director for ADF International, which has supported Päivi’s case from its earliest days, coordinating her defence and serving on her legal team. Like most such laws, she says, this one carries with it the possibility of criminal charges. That’s not all the laws have in common.
These laws are often presented, Koren says, as a way “to reduce social tensions, to curb hostility, to foster conditions of peace. It’s a very reductive way of looking at societal problems … the idea that if you have less ‘hate speech,’ you’ll have less hate.” Unfortunately, she says, the laws are also “vaguely worded, overly broad, and don’t define ‘hate.’”
“‘Hate,’ really, is just in the eye of the beholder,” she says. “And what happens is what we’ve seen with this case: people are prosecuted for perfectly peaceful expression in the name of preventing ‘hate.’” When the law was passed in the Finnish Parliament, “nobody was much aware what the consequences would be. Päivi’s case is the litmus test for how the law will be applied to religious speech.”
Päivi says she sees now that she and her colleagues underestimated the implications of the law they all voted for. Many serving with her in the Finnish Parliament, she says, believe that “if I were to be convicted, then we would have to change the law.
“I’m not the only one in Finland who has spoken and taught about these issues,” she says. “There are thousands and thousands of similar writings. If my writings are banned, then [many] sermons and interviews and writings would be in danger. If I were convicted, it really would start a time of persecution among Christians.”
Which, unfortunately, seems to be the idea.
“‘Hate,’ really, is just in the eye of the beholder.”
Faith Under Fire
Päivi and her co-defendant — Bishop Juhana Pohjola, who is charged with publishing the 2004 pamphlet on marriage and sexuality Päivi shared with her church — were stunned when the prosecutor opened her case against them by showing Bible verses on a courtroom screen. Her ignorance of Christian theology was palpable, and she made no secret of her determination to see Päivi and Bishop Pohjola punished for views so contrary to contemporary secular morality.
“It’s become clear,” Koren says, “that they are not prosecuting Päivi Räsänen … they’re really prosecuting the Bible and Christian beliefs at a very high level. What’s at stake is the fundamental question of whether people — particularly people in the public eye — have the freedom to voice their Christian convictions in the public space.”
“What the prosecutor essentially is calling for,” says Paul Coleman, Executive Director of ADF International, “is the criminalization of the orthodox Christian position on fundamental Christian doctrine regarding marriage, sexuality, sin, and so forth. It’s shocking to see such brazen anti-Christian legal argumentation within a criminal context.”
Even more unsettling, Coleman says, is the fact that “there’s nothing unique about the situation in Finland. It doesn’t have worse law than anywhere else. It has a better legal system than most places. If this can happen in Finland, it can happen in any Western country.”
In fact, he says, “the same censorial sentiments exist in the U.S. — at all heights of power. On almost every college campus. In all of the major companies, particularly Big Tech. They exist in much of the U.S. political system and in the mindset of many law professors.
That line — between what we’re seeing take place in Finlans and what could very soon happen in the U.S. — is far smaller than most people realize. Or want to admit.”
A Ruling Due Before the Supreme Court
In March 2022, the Helsinki District Court unanimously acquitted Päivi and Bishop Pohjola of all charges, saying, “It is not for the district court to interpret biblical concepts.” A month later, the prosecutor appealed that ruling — something she is allowed to do under Finnish law. In November 2023, the Helsinki Court of Appeal confirmed the lower court’s acquittal.
The prosecutor then appealed both decisions to the Finnish Supreme Court, which has agreed to hear the case.
What the prosecution has secured, Koren says, “is another year or two during which Päivi is still under this pressure. Her reputation and her integrity as a civil servant are clouded by the fact that she continues to be criminally prosecuted for her peaceful expression.”
Still, Niilo says, “We don’t worry. Whatever happens, we will take it as God’s will and see what comes next.”
“It’s remarkable,” Päivi says, “how God uses this.” From the beginning, she says, “I had a deep, deep feeling this was in God’s hands, that He was opening a door. There’ve been so many opportunities to testify about Jesus … before these courts, in front of police officers, even to those who vehemently disagree with me. It’s given me a lot of joy.
“I’ve received messages from people who’ve told me that, as they’ve followed the trials and listened to my interviews, they’ve started to read the Bible and pray. They’ve found Christ.
“I got a call from a 22-year-old man who told me that he knew almost nothing about Christianity but was listening to a radio interview where I said, ‘If you want to know Jesus, you can pray, He will come into your life.’ He has been a Christian now for over two years. Jesus came into his life.”
As a lawyer who feels called to defend freedom of religion and speech,” Coleman says, “it’s been the great privilege of my career to be [able] to support and defend Päivi. I’m not exaggerating by saying she is, ultimately, the reason why we exist.
“She’s tough. Really tough. Yet … always smiling, always kind. Over the past five years, I’ve sat through two trials with her, sat around her kitchen table, seen her in every context in between. She’s just such an unbelievably authentic person. The same in every context, whether being cross-examined for her faith, or hosting us for dinner after the hearing.”
During one hearing, Coleman says, “the prosecutor — who, bear in mind, has said horrible things about her and wants to put her in jail — was visibly unwell. And, at one of the breaks, Päivi just went over to sit with her, ask how she was doing, connect with her on a human level.
“She wasn’t doing it for the cameras,” he says. “No one saw it. But I thought, ‘What a remarkable person this is.’ It’s just such a privilege to be called as a ministry to stand alongside her and say, ‘We’ve got your back.’”
“I have received much more during this legal process than I have lost,” Päivi says. “When I was young, I read from those texts where Jesus says that, when they take you in front of courts and kings, you’ll be His witness, and He will provide what to say. I could never have believed I would ever be in this kind of situation. But I think it’s increased my trust in God.
“What I’ve found is that what God has promised, He is faithful [to do]. He really works as He has said. Jesus is alive, and He stands by His word. And He is good.”
Conclusion: The Assault on Freedom of Expression
At the heart of Päivi’s case is a growing trend across Europe: the weaponization of vague and subjective “hate speech” laws to suppress peaceful expression. The implications of this case extend far beyond Finland. What does this mean for ordinary European citizens if a respected parliamentarian can be prosecuted for a tweet?
International law, and that of Finland, guarantees freedom of speech and religion, yet cases like Päivi’s show how these rights are increasingly being violated or reinterpreted to serve ideological ends. If she were to be convicted, it would mark a dangerous shift towards state control over individual freedoms.
The principle at stake is not whether one agrees with Päivi’s beliefs. It’s whether a European democracy can still allow space for diverse opinions in the public square. Once the state decides which views are acceptable and which are not, the door opens to widespread censorship.
Europe’s commitment to democracy demands better. The Finnish Supreme Court now has a decision to make, and the world is watching. Time will tell, but one thing is certain: Päivi Räsänen will not be silenced.
ADF International is honoured to stand by her side, just as we’ve done for the last six years.
