Understanding Colonial New England via Sermons

I recently finished reading Harry Stout's book,  The New England Soul: Preaching and Religious Culture in Colonial New England.  Stout, who is a professor of American Religious History at Yale and the author of numerous books on early American religion, focuses on the unique character and evolution of the New England sermon, and how it served as the dominant means by which information was transmitted to the general populace.  Stout argues that no other medium was anywhere as effective in shaping New England thought: "The New England sermon, whose topical range and social influence were so powerful in shaping cultural values, meanings and sense of corporate purpose that even the television pales in comparison."

Stout presents the sermon experience from the perspective of five generations of Puritan believers, beginning with the "Church Fathers" (original settlers) and concluding with the generation of the American Revolution.  Stout argues that each generation maintained a consistent loyalty to the basic tenants of Puritan Christianity, but that subtle changes between generations allowed for a more democratic interpretation of the Congregationalist message.  He writes:

The founders invented a meaning for New England and the children maintained and built upon it.  Third-generation ministers, living in a tolerant "Anglicanized" age, promulgated the same doctrines as their predecessors but adorned them with a "polite" style that registered the influence of English manners and the "New Learning."  Forth-generation ministers, spanning the years of religious "awakening" and war with France, learned anew the importance of delivery both in theory and fact.  Finally, fifth-generation ministers, living through Independence, built their case for resistance and revolution on the memory of the founders and New England's inherited covenant mission.

In short, what Stout argues is that there was far more cohesiveness on the part of Puritan preachers of successive generations that there was division.  The natural evolution of Puritan theology was more a symptom of inevitable change and development than proof of spiritual decline.  Again from Stout:

If there was a "decline" and resultant "secularization" of Puritanism, it was not evident in the regular life of the churches.  The majority of inhabitants continued to go to church, and their ministers persisted in the same subject matter of their sermons.  No shift from piety to moralism was evident.  Indeed, it appears that models of secularization stem from historians' failure to appreciate the functional distinctions made by colonial ministers...The more one reads these sermons the more one finds unsatisfactory the suggestion that ideas of secular "republicanism," "civil millennialism, or class conscience "popular ideology" were the primary ideological triggers of radical resistance and violence in Revolution [my emphasis].

This is, in my opinion, the most compelling argument Stout makes. It is easy for even a successful historian to get lost in the fog of emerging Enlightenment doctrine that helps to make this era of history so appealing.  We naturally want to gravitate to the "new" ideas of Isaac Newton, Locke, etc.  Stout, however, would advise caution.  While Enlightenment ideas were no doubt prevalent and growing, the Puritan message was not going out of style.  As Stout himself aptly puts it, "Anglicanization, in short, gilded the face of New England society, but did not transform its soul."

None of this suggests that the Puritan message remained completely untarnished or free from change.  The rise of new scientific sensibilities, the debates over natural religion, and other emerging counterarguments left their mark on the New England countryside.  But these new ideas were not seen as fatal blows to the Puritan mindset.  Most Puritan ministers were effective in their ability to reconcile divine revelation (as any Congregationalist community saw it) with the "new science" of their day.  So long as this new thinking did not upset the world of Reformed Christianity or minimized the importance of Sola Scriptura, these challenges were not as scary as they may first appear. 

When dissent did arise over matters of theology in New England it was usually to do with issues that had little to do with new Enlightenment principles.  The "Great Awakening" is a perfect example.  With the rise of Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield came a new emphasis on the individual conviction of salvation by Christ as opposed to the traditional Congregationalist conversion experience that relied more on hierarchy and ceremony.  But this change (which would give birth to the Old Light v. New Light battle) had more to do with the FRUITS of conversion than it did with any actual challenge to church authority. 

And though I found Stout's book to be both informative and compelling, there are a few areas of concern.  First, it would be easy for the casual reader to assume that the Puritan message was the dominant message of Colonial America.  New England, rightfully so, received a tremendous amount of credit for being the soil in which revolution was allowed to germinate.  With that being said, it is important that we keep in mind the many other factors that led not only to revolution but allowed each colony to develop on its own.  Puritanism, though a powerful force, was not the only big kid on the school yard. 

In addition, I would have enjoyed hearing Stout's take on the emergence of preachers like Jonathan Mayhew and how his brand of preaching proved challenging to traditional Puritan Christianity.  With that being said, I was overall pleased with the book.  It's worth the time. 

Book Review: The God Who Weeps

The God Who Weeps: How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life. By Terryl and Fiona Givens (Salt Lake City: Ensign Peak, 2012. Pp. 160).

In recent years, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) has experienced a sudden exodus from the faith on the part of many of its rank-and-file members.  Thanks in large part to the Internet, many Mormons have discovered a number of historical and theological issues that has caused a great deal of doubt and concern for many Latter-day Saints, who originally believed that their faith was impenetrable to such things.  As former Church Historian Marlin K. Jensen recently stated:

Maybe since Kirtland, we've never had a period of -- I'll call it apostasy, like we're having now...It's a different generation.  There's no sense kidding ourselves, we just need to be very upfront with [members] and tell them what we know and give answers to what we have and call on their faith like we all do for things we don't understand.

This crisis of faith, that has already claimed a number of former members in its wake, has gone relatively unopposed.  Little has been said (other than the traditional "don't you dare doubt" or "just pray about it" responses) to help remedy the situation.

That is until now.

In their book, The God Who Weeps: How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life, the husband and wife team of Terryl and Fiona Givens offer us a concise but extraordinarily eloquent overview of the profoundly complex yet extremely basic theology that is found within Mormonism, and how said theology answers some of life's most difficult to answer questions. The Givens challenge many of the preconceived ideas held by both Christian and Mormon supporters and detractors by resting their thesis on the idea that God's strength and ultimate sovereignty rest in his infinite loving vulnerability rather than his divine dictatorial supremacy.  In consequence, The God Who Weeps reveals a god who mourns for his creations when they sin, as opposed to a god who arbitrarily consigns the sinner to an eternity in hell.

The book is essentially divided into five sections (chapters) that each emphasize a separate and unique concept that the Givens believe are both unique to the Mormon faith and worthy of our further inquiry.  In the first chapter (His Heart Is Set Upon Us), Terryl and Fiona Givens develop their concept of the "weeping God" and how such a deity is both worthy of our devotion and fully capable of coming to our aid:

There could be nothing in this universe, or in any possible universe, more perfectly good, absolutely beautiful, worthy of adoration, and deserving of emulation, than this God of love and kindness and vulnerability. That is why a gesture of belief in His direction, a decision to acknowledge His virtues as the paramount qualities of a divided universe, is a response to the best in us, the best and noblest of which the human soul is capable. But a God without passions would engender in our hearts neither love nor interest. In the vision of Enoch, we find ourselves drawn to a God who prevents all the pain He can, assumes all the suffering He can, and weeps over the misery He can neither prevent nor assume.

The Givens further develop the idea of the "suffering" or "weeping" god by pointing to the writings of early church patriarchs like St. Augustine and Origen, along with modern writers such as C.S. Lewis and Emily Dickinson, all of whom insinuated, in one way or another, that God's strength and ultimate sovereignty rested in his love and vulnerability for mankind as opposed to his supremacy as some sort of cold and distant dictator.

In the second chapter (Man Was in the Beginning With God), the Givens focus on a point of Mormon doctrine (pre-existence) that they believe is dramatically underplayed by both critics and supporters of Mormonism.  It is worth nothing that the majority of this chapter's material is drawn from Terryl Givens' other book, When Souls Had Wings, which is almost exclusively devoted to the concept of pre-mortal existence and it's development in Western thought.  In this chapter, the Givens turn to the writings of the ancient Greeks, Babylonians Jews, etc. who all maintained an interest in the idea of a pre-mortal world/existence.

In the third chapter (Men Are That They Might Have Joy), the books highlights the importance of human choice and how said choices can determine our happiness and illustrate what we as individuals value most in our mortal lives:

Whatever sense we make of this world, whatever value we place upon our lives and relationships, whatever meaning we ultimately give to our joys and agonies, must necessarily be a gesture of faith. Whether we consider the whole a product of impersonal cosmic forces, a malevolent deity, or a benevolent god, depends not on the evidence, but on what we choose, deliberately and consciously, to conclude from that evidence.  To our minds, this fork in our mental road is very much the point.  It is, in fact, inescapable. 

In other words, the Givens remind us that joy, faith and hope really are in the eye of the beholder. They do so by pointing to biblical figures like Adam and Eve, and the apparent quandary they experienced while in the Garden of Eden.  Partaking of the fruit meant introducing pain, hurt, grief and despair into the world, but it also brought about joy, happiness, love and charity.  In short, life becomes a quest to put off the "natural man" and experience for ourselves (and through our own choices) the joy that is available to all.

Chapter 4 (None of Them Is Lost) is, in my opinion, the most important chapter of this work.  In this chapter, the Givens challenge many of the erroneous cultural beliefs that Mormons have with regards to salvation. Too often members of the Mormon faith (and Christians in general) make the incorrect assumption that salvation will only be attained by a select few and that heaven will be a relatively underpopulated place while hell will be full to the brim.  This is nonsense.  As the Givens point out:

God is personally invested in shepherding His children through the process of mortality and beyond; His desires are set upon the whole human family, not upon a select few. He is not predisposed to just the fast learners, the naturally inclined, or the morally gifted. The project of human advancement that God designed offers a hope to the entire human race.  It is universal in its appeal and reach alike. This, however, has not been the traditional view.

And:

We are not in some contest to rack up points. We will not someday wait with bated breath to see what prize or pain is meted out by a great dispenser of trophies. We cannot so trivialize life that we make of it a coliseum where we wage moral combat like spiritual gladiators, for a presiding Authority on high to save or damn according to our performance. Where would be the purpose in all that? He might take the measure of our souls at any moment and deal with us accordingly, saving Himself, not to mention us, a great deal of trouble. How much more meaningful is a life designed for spiritual formation, rather than spiritual elevation.

In other words, heaven isn't a prize to be won but a state of being to be attained.  The value of this concept is infinitely important for Mormons and the world as a whole.  God wants to save everyone, not just a few.  As a result, Mormonism is NOT a small tent faith of exclusivity but is a big tent UNIVERSALIST religion.  As Joseph Smith himself stated, "God will fetter out every individual soul."

In their 5th and final section (Participants in the Divine Nature), the Givens essentially sum it all up and illustrate the Mormon belief that God wants the best for all of his children.  As a result, we can, through our own merits and God's grace, achieve a state of full happiness and joy, surrounded by those we love most.  In short, the Givens suggest that heaven will be, for those who choose it, a continuation of all the special relationships we experience here on Earth, except that the joy can be infinite.  Though our own vulnerability, we too can become "joint heirs" with Christ.

In summation, The God Who Weeps is a welcomed and invaluable response to those who believe that Mormonism has nothing to offer the modern world.  It presents a theology that is fully developed, complex and worthy of scholarly inquiry and soul-searching meditation.  The authors of this work demonstrate an exceptional ability to sift through centuries of material to find the perfectly pitched quotations and evidence needed to prove their argument.  The depth and breadth of their knowledge of world literature, theology, philosophy, art and history is astounding, and serves to support their thesis that Mormonism is a deeply rich and fulfilling religion with a great deal to offer the world.  All current and former Mormons would do well to realize that trivializing the faith, or reducing the argument to the smallest possible denominator, does little to help increase our understanding.  There is nothing to be gained from picking fun at the low-lying fruit of Mormonism As Terryl Givens states:

Mormons have largely left others to frame the theological discussion.  In opting to emphasize Mormon culture over Mormon theology, Mormons have too often left the media and ministers free to select most esoteric and idiosyncratic for ridicule.  So jibes about Kolob and magic underwear usurp serious engagement, much as public knowledge about the Amish is confined to a two-dimensional caricature involving a horse and buggy.  But members of a faith community should recognize themselves in any fair depiction.  And it is the fundamentals of Mormonism that should ground any debate worth having about Mormon beliefs or Mormon membership in the Christian community.

And for the Givens these fundamentals are:

1.) God's strength is found in his vulnerability.  His Heart is set upon us.
2.) We are eternal in nature and were in the beginning with God.
3.) We can, through our own choices and God's eternal grace, have eternal joy.
4.) Salvation is universal and open to all who want it.  Mormonism is Universalist in nature.
5.) We can be participants and joint heirs in the divine nature.

In a mere 160 pages, The God Who Weeps does what no other book has been able to: present to the world a concise yet complex narrative of why Mormonism matters.  My advise to all who read this is simple: if you love being a Mormon and have never questioned your faith, read this book.  It will give you a better understanding of those who do.  If you are a Mormon and have doubts or have already left the faith, read this book.  It may give you a better understanding/perspective of why Mormonism matters and the value that can be had by living the faith.  If you are not a Mormon and want to know what the faith is all about, read this book.  It will give you a better understanding of why Mormonism is a unique and valuable faith that is worthy of more than both its members and critics have given it.

"Old School" Scholarship on Washington's Religious Beliefs

John E. Remsburg (1848-1919) was, in his day, a well-known historian of early American history -- particularly religious history -- and a skeptic of the belief that George Washington was an orthodox Christian. As the author of 12 books on the topic of religion and early America, Remsburg was well versed in the historical material surrounding the founders. Here are some of the things he had to say -- in 1906 mind you -- on the religious beliefs of George Washington. I believe they are sound and help to refute a lot of the Glenn Beck/David Barton/Peter Lillback nonsense that has been all over. Remsburg provides ample proof to refute any "Washington was a devout, hard-core Christian believer" argument out there. Now, with that said, I still maintain my belief that Washington was also NOT a deist as many secularists claim. The truth is that he lies somewhere in the middle.

So, without further delay, here is Remsburg's detailed research:

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Was Washington a church member? Was he in any sense a Christian? In early life he held a formal adherence to the church of England, serving, for a time, as a vestryman in the parish in which he resided. But this being merely a temporal office did not necessitate his being a communicant, nor even a believer in Christianity. In his maturer age he was connected with no church. Washington, the young Virginia planter, might, perhaps, with some degree of truthfulness, have been called a Christian; Washington, the Soldier, statesman and sage, was not a Christian, but a Deist.

This great man, like most men in public life, was reticent respecting his religious views. This rendered a general knowledge of his real belief impossible, and made it easy for zealous Christians to impose upon the public mind and claim him for their faith. Whatever evidence of his unbelief existed was, as far as possible, suppressed. Enough remains, however, to prompt me to attempt the task of proving the truth of the following propositions:

That Washington was not a Christian communicant.
That he was not a believer in the Christian religion.

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Was Washington A Communicant?
Washington was not a communicant. This fact can be easily demonstrated. A century ago it was the custom of all classes, irrespective of their religious beliefs, to attend church. Washington, adhering to the custom, attended. But when the administration of the sacrament took place, instead of remaining and partaking of the Lord's Supper as a communicant would have done, he invariably arose and retired from the church.
The closing years of his life, save the last two, were passed in Philadelphia, he being then President of the United States. In addition to his eight years' incumbency of the presidency, he was, during the eight years of the Revolutionary war, and also during the six years that elapsed between the Revolution and the establishment of the Federal government, not only a frequent visitor in Philadelphia, but during a considerable portion of the time a resident of that city. While there he attended the Episcopal churches of which the Rev. William White and the Rev. James Abercromble were rectors. In regard to his being a communicant, no evidence can be so pertinent or so decisive as that of his pastors.

Bishop White, the father of the Protestant Episcopal church of America, is one of the most eminent names in church history. During a large portion of the period covering nearly a quarter of a century, Washington, with his wife, attended the churches in which Bishop White officiated. In a letter dated Fredericksburg, Aug. 13, 1835, Colonel Mercer sent Bishop White the following inquiry relative to this question:

"I have a desire, my dear Sir, to know whether Gen. Washington was a communicant of the Protestant Episcopal church, or whether he occasionally went to the communion only, or if ever he did so at all. ... No authority can be so authentic and complete as yours on this point."

To this inquiry Bishop White replied as follows:

"Philadelphia, Aug. 15, 1835.

"Dear Sir: In regard to the subject of your inquiry, truth requires me to say that Gen. Washington never received the communion in the churches of which I am the parochial minister. Mrs. Washington was an habitual communicant.

... I have been written to by many on that point, and have been obliged to answer them as I now do you. I am respectfully.

"Your humble servant,

"WILLIAM WHITE."
(Memoir of Bishop White, pp. 196, 197).

[...]

The Rev. E.D. Neill, in the Episcopal Recorder, the organ of the church of which it is claimed Washington was a communicant, says:

"As I read, a few days ago, of the death of the Rev. Richard M. Abercrombie, rector of St. Matthew's Protestant Episcopal church in Jersey City, memories of my boyhood arose. He was born not far from my father's house in Philadelphia and was the son of the Rev. James Abercrombie, a fine scholar and preacher, who had in early life corresponded with the great lexicographer, Dr. Samuel Johnson, and in later years was the assistant minister of Christ's and St. Peter's churches, in Philadelphia, where my maternal ancestors had worshiped for more than one generation. One day, after the father had reached four score years, the lately deceased son took me into the study of the aged man, and showed me a letter which President George Washington had written to his father, thanking him for the loan of one of his manuscript sermons. Washington and his wife were regular attendants upon his ministry while residing in Philadelphia. The President was not a communicant, notwithstanding all the pretty stories to the contrary, and after the close of the sermon on sacramental Sundays, had fallen into the habit of retiring from the church while his wife remained and communed."

Referring to Dr. Abercrombie's reproof of Washington, Mr. Neill says:

"Upon one occasion Dr. Abercromble alluded to the unhappy tendency of the example of those dignified by age and position turning their backs upon the celebration of the Lord's Supper. The discourse arrested the attention of Washington, and after that he never came to church with his wife on Communion Sunday."

The Rev. Dr. Wilson, in his famous sermon on the Religion of the Presidents, also alludes to this subject. He says:

"When the Congress sat in Philadelphia, President Washington attended the Episcopal church. The rector, Dr. Abercrombie, told me that on the days when the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was to be administered, Washington's custom was to rise just before the ceremony commenced, and walk out of church. This became a subject of remark in the congregation, as setting a bad example. At length the Doctor undertook to speak of it, with a direct allusion to the President. Washington was heard afterwards to remark that this was the first time a clergyman had thus preached to him, and he should henceforth neither trouble the Doctor nor his congregation on such occasions; and ever after that, upon communion days, he 'absented himself altogether from the church.'

The Rev. Bird Wilson, D.D., author of the "Memoir of Bishop White," says:

"Though the General attended the churches in which Dr. White officiated, whenever he was in Philadelphia during the Revolutionary war, and afterwards while President of the United States, he never was a communicant in them" (Memoir of Bishop White, p. 188).

The Rev. Beverly Tucker, D.D., of the Episcopal church, has attempted to prove that Washington was a churchman. But while professing to believe that he was a communicant before the Revolution he is compelled to admit that there is a doubt about his communing after the Revolution. He says:

"The doubt has been raised partly on the strength of a letter written by Bishop White in 1832. He says that Washington attended St. Peter's church one winter, during the session of the Continental Congress, and that during his Presidency he had a pew in Christ church, 'which was habitually occupied by himself, by Mrs. Washington, who was regularly a communicant, and by his secretaries. This language is taken to mean, and probably correctly, that Washington did not commune."

Dr. Tucker is evidently not acquainted with Bishop White's letter to Col. Mercer in 1835. There is no question as to the meaning of that letter. Continuing, Dr. Tucker says:

"The doubt rests again on the recollection of Mrs. Fielding Lewis, Nelly Custis, Gen. Washington's step- granddaughter, written in 1833, who states that after the Mount Vernon family removed from Pohick church to Christ church, Alexandria, the General was accustomed, on Communion Sundays, to leave the church with her, sending the carriage back for Mrs. Washington."

Washington's biographer, the Rev. Jared Sparks, who seems to have entertained the popular notion that Washington was in early life a communicant, admits that at a latter period he ceased to commune. He says:

"The circumstance of his withdrawing himself from the communion service at a certain period of his life has been remarked as singular. This may be admitted and regretted, both on account of his example and the value of his opinions as to the importance and practical tendency of this rite" (Life of Washington, Vol. ii, p. 361).

Origen Bacherer, in his debate with Robert Dale Owen in 1831, made an effort to prove that Washington was a Christian communicant. He appealed for help to the Rev. Wm. Jackson, rector of the Episcopal church of Alexandria, the church which Washington had attended. Mr. Jackson was only too willing to aid him. He instituted an exhaustive investigation for the purpose of discovering if possible some evidence of Washington having been a communicant. Letters of inquiry were addressed to his relatives and friends. But his efforts were unsuccessful. While he professed to believe that Washington was a Christian, he was compelled to say:

"I find no one who ever communed with him" (Bacheler-Owen Debate, Vol. ii, p. 262).

This, as might be supposed, did not satisfy Mr. Bacherer, and he entreated the rector to make another attempt. The second attempt was as fruitless as the first.' He writes:

"I am sorry after so long a delay in replying to your last, that it is not in my power to communicate something decisive in reference to General Washington's church membership" (Ibid., ii, p. 370.)

In the same letter Mr. Jackson says:

"Nor can I find any old person who ever communed with him."

The "People's Library of Information" contains the following:

"The question has been raised as to whether any one of our Presidents was a communicant in a Christian church. There is a tradition that Washington asked permission of a Presbyterian mister in New Jersey to unite in communion. But it is only a tradition. Washington was a vestryman in the Episcopal church. But that office required no more piety than it would to be mate of a ship. There is no account of his communing in Boston, or in New York, or Philadelphia, or elsewhere, during the Revolutionary struggle."

The tradition of Washington's wishing to unite with a Presbyterian minister in communion, like many other so-called traditions of the same character, has been industriously circulated. And yet it is scarcely possible to conceive of a more improbable story. Refusing to commune with the members of the church in which he was raised, and the church he was in the habit of attending, and going to the priest of another church -- a stranger -- and asking to commune with him! Had Washington been some intemperate vagabond, the story might have been believed. But Washington was not an inebriate, and was never so pressed for a drink as to beg a sup of sacramental wine from a Calvinistic clergyman.

Gen. A.W. Greely, U.S.A., in an article on "Washington's Domestic and Religious Life" which was published in the Ladies' Home Journal for April, 1896, says:

"But even if he was ever confirmed in its [the Episcopal] faith there is no reliable evidence that he ever took communion with it or with any other church."

Some years ago, I met at Paris, Texas, an old gentlemen, Mr. F.W. Miner, who was born and who lived for a considerable time near Mt. Vernon. He told me that when a boy he was once in company with a party of old men, neighbors in early life of Washington, who were discussing the question of his religious belief. He says that it was admitted by all of them that he was not a church member, and by the most of them that he was not a Christian.

Mr. George Wilson of Lexington, Mo., whose ancestors owned the Custis estate, and founded Alexandria, where Washington attended church, writes as follows: "My great-grandmother was Mary Alexander, daughter of 'John the younger,' who founded Alexandria. The Alexander pew in Christ church was next to Washington's, and an old lady, a kinswoman of mine, born near Alexandria and named Alexander, told me that the tradition in the Alexander family was that Washington NEVER took communion."

In regard to Washington being a vestryman, Mr. Wilson says: "At that time the vestry was the county court, and in order to have a hand in managing the affairs of the county, in which his large property lay, regulating the levy of taxes, etc., Washington had to be a vestryman."

The St. Louis Globe contained the following in regard to the church membership of Washington:

"It is a singular fact that much as has been written about Washington, particularly with regard to his superior personal virtue, there is nothing to show that he was ever a member of the church. He attended divine service, and lived an honorable and exemplary life, but as to his being a communicant, the record is surprisingly doubtful."

In an article conceding that Washington was not a communicant, the Western Christian Advocate says:

"This is evident and convincing from the Life of Bishop White, bishop of the Episcopal church in America from 1787 to 1836. Of this evidence it has been well said: 'There does not appear to be any such undoubtable evidence existing. The more scrutinously the church membership of Washington is examined, the more doubtful it appears. Bishop White seems to have had more intimate relations with Washington than any clergyman of his time. His testimony outweighs any amount of influential argumentation on the question.'

The following is a recapitulation of the salient points in the preceding testimony, given in the words of the witnesses. It is in itself an overwhelming refutation of the claim that Washington was a communicant:

"Gen. Washington never received the communion in the churches of which I am the parochial minister." -- Bishop White.

"On sacramental Sundays, Gen. Washington, immediately after the desk and pulpit services, went out with the greater part of the Congregation." -- Rev. Dr. Abercromble.

"After that, [Dr. Abercrombie's reproof,] upon communion days, he absented himself altogether from the church." -- Rev. Dr. Wilson.

"The General was accustomed, on communion Sundays, to leave the church with her [Nelly Custis], sending the carriage back for Mrs. Washington. " -- Rev. Dr. Beverly Tucker.

"He never was a communicant in them [Dr. White's churches]." -- Rev. Dr. Bird Wilson.

"I find no one who ever communed with him." -- Rev. William Jackson.

"The President was not a communicant." -- Rev. E.D. Neill.

"This [his ceasing to commune] may be admitted and regretted." -- Rev. Jared Sparks.

"There is no reliable evidence that he ever took communion." -- Gen. A.W. Greely.

"There is nothing to show that he was ever a member of the church." -- St. Louis Globe.

"I have never been a communicant." -- Washington, quoted by Dr. Abercrombie.

The claim that Washington was a Christian communicant must be abandoned; the claim that he was a believer in Christianity, I shall endeavor to showy is equally untenable.
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Was Washington A Christian?
In the political documents, correspondence, and other writings of Washington, few references to the prevailing religion of his day are found. In no instance has he expressed a disbelief in the Christian religion, neither can there be found in all his writings a single sentence that can with propriety be construed into an acknowledgment of its claims. Once or twice he refers to it in complimentary terms, but in these compliments there is nothing inconsistent with the conduct of a conscientious Deist. Religions, like their adherents, possess both good and bad qualities, and Christianity is no exception. While there is much in it deserving the strongest condemnation, there is also much that commands the respect and even challenges the admiration of Infidels. Occupying the position that Washington did, enjoying as he did the confidence and support of Christians, it was not unnatural that he should indulge in a few friendly allusions to their religious faith.
In his "Farewell Address," the last and best political paper he gave to the Christian religion is not once named. In this work he manifests the fondest solicitude for the future of his country. His sentences are crowded with words of warning and fatherly advice. But he does not seem to be impressed with the idea that the safety of the government or the happiness of the people depends upon Christianity. He recommends a cultivation of the religious sentiment, but evinces no partiality for the popular faith.

In the absence of any recorded statements from Washington himself concerning his religious belief, the most conclusive evidence that can be presented is the admissions of his clerical acquaintances. Among these there has been preserved the testimony of his pastors, Bishop White and Dr. Abercromble.

In a letter to Rev. B.C.C. Parker of Massachusetts, dated Nov. 28, 1832, in answer to some inquiries respecting Washington's religion, Bishop White says:

"His behavior [in church] was always serious and attentive, but as your letter seems to intend an inquiry on the point of kneeling during the service, I owe it to the truth to declare that I never saw him in the said attitude. ... Although I was often in company with this great man, and had the honor of dining often at his table, I never heard anything from him which could manifest his opinions on the subject of religion. ... Within a few days of his leaving the presidential chair, our vestry waited on him with an address prepared and delivered by me. In his answer he was pleased to express himself gratified by what he had heard from our pulpit; but there was nothing that committed him relatively to religious theory" ("Memoir of Bishop White," pp. 189-191; Sparks' "Life of Washington," Vol. ii., p. 359).

The Rev. Parker, to whom Bishop White's letter is addressed, was, it seems, anxious to obtain some evidence that Washington was a believer in Christianity, and, not satisfied with the bishop's answer, begged him, it would appear, to tax his mind for some fact that would tend to show that Washington was a believer. In a letter dated Dec. 21, 1832, the bishop writes as follows:

"I do not believe that any degree of recollection will bring to my mind any fact which would prove General Washington to have been a believer in the Christian revelation further than as may be hoped from his constant attendance upon Christian worship, in connection with the general reserve of his character" ("Memoir of Bishop White," p. 193).

Bishop White's testimony does not afford positive proof of Washington's unbelief, but it certainly furnishes strong presumptive evidence of its truth. It is hardly possible to suppose that he could have been a believer and have let his most intimate Christian associates remain in total ignorance of the fact. Bishop White indulges a faint hope that he may have been, but this hope is simply based on his "constant attendance" at church, and when we consider how large a proportion of those who attend church are unbelievers, that many of our most radical Freethinkers are regular church-goers, there are very small grounds, I think, upon which to indulge even a hope. But even this "constant attendance" on the part of Washington cannot be accepted without some qualification; for, while it is true that he often attended church, he was by no means a constant attendant. Not only did he uniformly absent himself on communion days, but the entries in his diary show that he remained away for several Sundays in succession, spending his time at home reading and writing, riding out into the country, or in visiting his friends.

But if Bishop White cherished a faint hope that Washington had some faith in the religion of Christ, Dr. Abercrombie did not. Long after Washington's death, in reply to Dr. Wilson, who had interrogated him as to his illustrious auditor's religious views, Dr. Abercrombie's brief but emphatic answer was:

"Sir, Washington was a Deist."

Washington rarely attended, as we have seen, any church but the Episcopal, hence, if any denomination of Christians could claim him as an adherent, it was this one. Yet here we have two of its most distinguished representatives, pastors of the churches which he attended, the one not knowing what his belief was, the other disclaiming him and asserting that he was a Deist.

The Rev. Dr. Wilson, who was almost a contemporary of our earlier statesmen and presidents, and who thoroughly investigated the subject of their religious beliefs, in his sermon already mentioned affirmed that the founders of our nation were nearly all Infidels, and that of the presidents who had thus far been elected -- George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe, John Quincy Adams, and Andrew Jackson -- not one had professed a belief in Christianity. From this sermon I quote the following:

"When the war was over and the victory over our enemies won, and the blessings and happiness of liberty and peace were secured, the Constitution was framed and God was neglected. He was not merely forgotten. He was absolutely voted out of the Constitution. The proceedings, as published by Thompson, the secretary, and the history of the day, show that the question was gravely debated whether God should be in the Constitution or not, and, after a solemn debate he was deliberately voted out of it. ... There is not only in the theory of our government no recognition of God's laws and sovereignty, but its practical operation, its administration, has been conformable to its theory. Those who have been called to administer the government have not been men making any public profession of Christianity. ... Washington was a man of valor and wisdom. He was esteemed by the whole world as a great and good man; but he was not a professing Christian."

Dr. Wilson's sermon was published in the Albany Daily Advertiser in 1831, and attracted the attention of Robert Dale Owen, then a young man, who called to see its author in regard to his statement concerning Washington's belief. The result of his visit is given in a letter to Amos Gilbert. The letter is dated Albany, November 13, 1831., and was published in New York a fortnight later. He says:

"I called last evening on Dr. Wilson, as I told you I should, and I have seldom derived more pleasure from a short interview with anyone. Unless my discernment of character has been rievously at fault, I met an honest man and sincere Christian. But you shall have the particulars. A gentleman of this city accompanied me to the Doctor's residence. We were very courteously received. I found him a tall, commanding figure, with a countenance of much benevolence, and a brow indicative of deep thought, apparently approaching fifty years of age. I opened the interview by stating that though personally a stranger to him, I had taken the liberty of calling in consequence of having perused an interesting sermon of his, which had been reported in the Daily Advertiser of this city, and regarding which, as he probably knew, a variety of opinions prevailed. In a discussion, in which I had taken a part, some of the facts as there reported had been questioned; and I wished to know from him whether the reporter had fairly given his words or not. ... I then read to him from a copy of the Daily Advertiser the paragraph which regards Washington, beginning, 'Washington was a man,' etc., and ending, 'absented himself altogether from the church.' 'I indorse,' said Dr. Wilson, with emphasis, 'every word of that. Nay, I do not wish to conceal from you any part of the truth, even what I have not given to the public. Dr. Abercrombie said more than I have repeated. At the close of our conversation on the subject his emphatic expression was -- for I well remember the very words -- 'Sir, Washington was a Deist.'"

In concluding the interview, Dr. Wilson said: "I have diligently perused every line that Washington ever gave to the public, and I do not find one expression in which he pledges himself as a believer in Christianity. I think anyone who will candidly do as I have done, will come to the conclusion that he was a Deist and nothing more.),

In February, 1800, a few weeks after. Washington's death, Jefferson made the following entry in his journal:

"Dr. Rush told me (he had it from Asa Green) that when the clergy addressed General Washington, on his departure from the government, it was observed in their consultation that he had never, on any occasion, said a word to the public which showed a belief in the Christian religion, and they thought they should so pen their address as to force him at length to disclose publicly whether he was a Christian or not. However, he observed, the old fox was too cunning for them. He answered every article of their address particularly, except that, which he passed over without notice" (Jefferson's Works, Vol. iv., p. 572).

Jefferson further says: "I know that Gouverneur Morris, who claimed to be in his secrets, and believed himself to be so, has often told me that General Washington believed no more in that system [Christianity] than he did" (Ibid).

Gouverneur Morris was the principal drafter of the Constitution of the United States; he was a member of the Continental Congress, a United States senator from New York, and minister to France. He accepted, to a considerable extent, the skeptical views of French Freethinkers.

The "Asa" Green mentioned by Jefferson was undoubtedly the Rev. Ashbel Green, chaplain to Congress during Washington's administration. In an article on Washington's religion, contributed to the Chicago Tribune, B.F. Underwood says:

"If there were an Asa Green in Washington's time he was a man of no prominence, and it is probable the person referred to by Jefferson was the Rev. Dr. Ashbel Green, who served as chaplain to the Congress during the eight years that body sat in Philadelphia, was afterwards president of Princeton College, and the only clerical member of Congress that signed the Declaration of Independence. His name shines illustriously in the annals of the Presbyterian church in the United States."

Some years ago I received a letter from Hon. A.B. Bradford of Pennsylvania, relative to Washington's belief. Mr. Bradford was for a long time a prominent clergyman in the Presbyterian church, and was appointed a consul to China by President Lincoln. His statements help to corroborate the statements of Dr. Wilson, Thomas Jefferson, and Mr. Underwood. He says:

"I knew Dr. Wilson personally, and have entertained him at my house, on which occasion he said in my hearing what my relative, the Rev. Dr. Ashbel Green of Philadelphia, frequently told me in his study, viz., that during the time that Congress sat in that city the clergy, suspecting from good evidence that Washington was not a believer in the Bible as a revelation from heaven, laid a plan to extort from him a confession, either pro or con, but that the plan failed. Dr. Green was chaplain to Congress during all the time of its sitting in Philadelphia; dined with the President on special invitation nearly every week; was well acquainted with him, and after he had been dead and gone many years, often said in my hearing, though very sorrowfully, of course, that while Washington was very deferential to religion and its ceremonies, like nearly all the founders of the Republic, he was not a Christian, but a Deist."

Mr. Underwood's article contained the following from the pen of Mr. Bradford:

"It was during his [Dr. Green's] long residence in Philadelphia that I became intimately acquainted with him as a relative, student of theology at Princeton, and a member of the same Presbytery to which he belonged. Many an hour during my student and clergyman days did I spend with him in his study at No. 150 Pine street, Philadelphia, listening to his interesting and instructive conversation on Revolutionary times and incidents. I recollect well that during one of these interviews in his study I inquired of him what were the real opinions Washington entertained on the subject of religion. He promptly answered pretty nearly in the language which Jefferson says Dr. Rush used. He explained more at length the plan laid by the clergy of Philadelphia at the close of Washington's administration as President to get his views of religion for the sake of the good influence they supposed they would have in counteracting the Infidelity of Paine and the rest of the Revolutionary patriots, military and civil. But I well remember the smile on his face and the twinkle of his black eye when he said: 'The old fox was too cunning for Us.' He affirmed, in concluding his narrative, that from his long and intimate acquaintance with Washington he knew it to be the case that while he respectfully conformed to the religious customs of society by generally going to church on Sundays, he had no belief at all in the divine origin of the Bible, or the Jewish-Christian religion."

The testimony of General Greely, whose thorough investigation of Washington's religious belief makes him an authority on the subject, is among the most important yet adduced. From his article on "Washington's Domestic and Religions Life" I quote the following paragraphs:

"The effort to depict Washington as very devout from his childhood, as a strict Sabbatarian, and as in intimate spiritual communication with the church is practically contradicted by his own letters."

"In his letters, even those of consolation, there appears almost nothing to indicate his spiritual frame of mind. A particularly careful study of the man's letters convinces me that while the spirit of Christianity, as exemplified in love of God and love of man [Theophilauthropy or Deism], was the controlling factor of his nature, yet he never formulated his religious faith."

"It is, however, somewhat striking that in several thousand letters the name of Jesus Christ never appears, and it is notably absent from his last will."

"His services as a vestryman had no special significance from a religious standpoint. The political affairs of a Virginia county were then directed by the vestry, which, having the power to elect its own members, was an important instrument of the oligarchy of Virginia."

"He was not regular in attendance at church save possibly at home. While present at the First Provencal Congress in Philadelphia he went once to the Roman Catholic and once to the Episcopal church. He spent four mouths in the Constitutional Convention, going six times to church, once each to the Romish high mass, to the Friends', to the Presbyterian, and thrice to the Episcopal service."

"From his childhood he traveled on Sunday whenever occasion required. He considered it proper for his negroes to fish, and on that day made at least one contract. During his official busy life Sunday was largely given to his home correspondence, being, as he says, the most convenient day in which to spare time from his public burdens to look after his impaired fortune and estates."

Dr. Moncure D. Conway, who made a study of Washington's life and character, who had access to his private papers, and who was employed to edit a volume of his letters, has written a monograph on "The Religion of Washington," from which I take the following:

"In editing a volume of Washington's private letters for the Long Island Historical Society, I have been much impressed by indications that this great historic personality represented the Liberal religious tendency of his tune. That tendency was to respect religious organizations as part of the social order, which required some minister to visit the sick, bury the dead, and perform marriages. It was considered in nowise inconsistent with disbelief of the clergyman's doctrines to contribute to his support, or even to be a vestryman in his church."

"In his many letters to his adopted nephew and young relatives, he admonishes them about their manners and morals, but in no case have I been able to discover any suggestion that they should read the Bible, keep the Sabbath, go to church, or any warning against Infidelity."

"Washington had in his library the writings of Paine, Priestley, Voltaire, Frederick the Great, and other heretical works."

Conway says that "Washington was glad to have Volney as his guest at Mount Vernon," and cited a letter of introduction which Washington gave him to the citizens of the United States during his travels in this country.

In a contribution to the New York Times Dr. Conway says:

"Augustine Washington, like most scholarly Virginians of his time, was a Deist. ... Contemporary evidence shows that in mature life Washington was a Deist, and did not commune, which is quite consistent with his being a vestryman. In England, where vestries have secular functions, it is not unusual for Unitarians to be vestrymen, there being no doctrinal subscription required for that office. Washington's letters during the Revolution occasionally indicate his recognition of the hand of Providence in notable public events, but in the thousands of his letters I have never been able to find the name of Christ or any reference to him."

There is no evidence to show that Washington, even in early life, was a believer in Christianity. The contrary is rather to be presumed. His father, as Dr. Conway states, was a Deist; while his mother was not excessively religious, His brother, Lawrence Washington, was, it is claimed, the first advocate of religious liberty in Virginia, and evidently an unbeliever, so that instead of being surrounded at home by the stifling atmosphere of superstition, he was permitted to breathe the pure air of religious freedom.

It is certain that at no time during his life did he take any special interest in church affairs. Gen. Greely says that "He was not regular in church attendance save possibly at home." At home he was the least regular in his attendance. His diary shows that he attended about twelve times a year. During the week he Superintended the affairs of his farm; on Sunday he usually attended to his correspondence. Sunday visitors at his house were numerous. If he ever objected to them it was not because they kept him from his devotions, but because they kept him from his work. In his diary he writes:

"It hath so happened, that on the last Sundays -- call them the first or seventh [days] as you please, I have been unable to perform the latter duty on account of visits from strangers, with whom I could not use the freedom to leave alone, or recommend to the care of each other, for their amusement."

When he visited his distant tenants to collect his rent, their piety, and not his, prevented him from doing the business on Sunday, as the following entry in his diary shows:

"Being Sunday, and the people living on my land very religious, it was thought best to postpone going among them till to-morrow."

His diary also shows that he "closed land purchases, sold wheat, and, while a Virginia planter, went fox hunting on Sunday."

He did not, like most pious churchmen, believe that Christian servants are better than others. When on one occasion he needed servants, he wrote:

"If they are good workmen, they may be from Asia, Africa, or Europe; they may be Mahomedans, Jews, or Christians of any sect, or they may be Atheists."

These extracts contain no explicit declarations of disbelief in Christianity, but between the lines we can easily read, "I am not a Christian."

Book Review: Free Soil, Free Labor, Free Men

Free Soil, Free Labor, Free Men: The Ideology of the Republican Party Before the Civil War. By Eric Foner. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995. Pp. xxxix, 317).

The years leading up to the American Civil War have been a source of ardent debate for historians. Being able to add clarity to the convoluted labyrinth of Civil War historiography is no small task for any writer. Historian Eric Foner, however, is an exception to that rule. In his book, Free Soil, Free Labor, Free Men Foner effectively provides simple but convincing evidence that adds a new perspective to the critical formative years of the Republican Party, just prior to the commencement of the Civil War. Foner attempts to portray the division between North and South as more than a simple disagreement over political issues, but rather as a passionate and tangible battle between rival moral standards.

Foner’s prose successfully resurrects the underlying tensions that shaped Republican ideology. Foner suggests that the Republican Party eventually grew to see their world dividing into two distinct societies: one agrarian and oppressive, the other industrial and libertarian. As the idea of free labor gained notoriety in the North for being a noble endeavor, slavery was receiving greater condemnation for its barbarity. Foner alludes to this fact when he writes, “If the free labor outlook gave Republicans a model of the good society, it also provided them with a yardstick for judging other social systems, and by this standard, slave society was found woefully wanting” (Pp. 40).

The book’s main strength comes from the author’s analysis of the ideology of free labor. Foner’s opening chapters are almost exclusively dedicated to the Republican Party’s advancement and development of the free labor doctrine. As the economy of the North grew to embrace this new policy on labor, more and more people began to see its benefits. This ideology was then woven into the Republican agenda, which strove to convince the masses of the superiority of a free labor economy. “The economic superiority of free to slave labor became a major argument of the Republicans in their attempt to win northern votes” (Pp. 43). Foner adds further credence to his argument by mentioning the numerous reporters that traveled to the Deep South to bring to light the inferiority of the Southern slave economy (Pp. 46-49). By relating stories of slave oppression, the plight of the poor whites, and the dilapidated nature of Southern infrastructure, the press was able to convince its readers that the economy of the South was morally unacceptable. Northern obsession with free labor, combined with a strong abhorrence of the slave economy, gave Republican politics a strong advantage that propelled their agenda forward.

The development of free labor ideology is a reoccurring theme in this book. Foner uses it to demonstrate just how powerful of a dichotomy there was between the North and South in terms of economics. Foner points out that the Northern economic standard evolved into a moral one, which was in constant conflict with slavery. Foner makes mention that the apparent upward social mobility of the North was of paramount significance, and was one of the primary problems with Southern slavery. “The plight of the poor whites [in the South] was compounded, as Republicans saw it, by their lack of opportunity to rise in the social scale” (Pp. 47). Foner does not neglect the perspective of the South, however, which maintained that, “there must be a class to do the mean duties, to perform the drudgeries of life” (Pp. 66). Clearly the economic divisions depicted by Foner had evolved into much more than a simple dispute, and had in fact become a passionate moral conflict.

The ideology of free labor is not the only issue addressed in this book. Foner also gives a lot of attention to the historical development of the Republican Party. In the middle and end parts of his book, he stresses the fact that Republicans were forced to incorporate a large conglomeration of politically diverse groups into their fold. Foner makes it clear that the Republican integration of abolitionists, ex-Whigs, ex-Democrats, and others was a slow process that required adaptation and compromise. The radically charged viewpoints of many within the party (Charles Sumner and Thaddeus Stevens to name only a couple) required time to adapt to the more conservative perspectives within the party. As Foner claims, there existed a large number of conservatives that were not as charged over the slavery issue as the radicals (Pp. 187).

One of the best aspects of Foner’s inquiry into the development of the Republican Party comes from his chapter on Salmon Chase. In it, Foner demonstrates how Chase was able to effectively weave slavery into a political issue. By doing so, abolitionists and other radicals rallied around the idea, creating an agenda of zero tolerance. As different factions came together under the banner of the Republican Party, slavery became its main political issue. Foner adds credibility to this argument by effectively demonstrating how the conservative elements within the party began to see slavery as an assault to their ideology of free labor. By doing so, Foner reveals how those less interested in the slavery issue were persuaded to believe that slavery presented a legitimate threat to their way of life.

The appeal of this work should thus be seen from the perspective of Civil War historiography. As a result of his research, Foner has provided us with an additional way of understanding the events that led to the Civil War. By effectively exposing the importance of free labor ideology in the North, and its introduction and evolution in the Republican Party, the reader is able to gain a sense of the moral dilemma that existed between North and South. Foner’s insight into the various political factions that made up the Republican Party provide a rich and sophisticated view of the events that drove the North to strongly oppose the South. Though written from a predominantly Northern perspective, this book gives brilliant insight into the origins of the Civil War.

Book Review: Final Solutions: Mass Killing and Genocide in the 20th Century

Final Solutions: Mass Killing and Genocide in the 20th Century. By Benjamin Valentino. (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2004. Pp. viii, 253).

The twentieth century was the bloodiest in all of human history. The consequences of two world wars left a haunting impression upon the millions of survivors, who became reluctant witnesses to the atrocities of modern warfare. Along with the millions of war victims is another body of mass casualties that is often forgotten in the muddle of twentieth century history. The approximately 60-150 million victims of genocide across the world stand as a monument to the carnage of numerous regimes that embraced mass killing as a necessity. In his book, Final Solutions: Mass Killing and Genocide in the 20th Century, author Benjamin Valentino attempts to address the causes and motivations that have inspired genocide in the twentieth century. By essentially addressing genocide as nothing more than a “powerful political and military tool,” Valentino provides the reader with a detailed perspective into the motives behind genocide.

First off, it is important to recognize the fact that Valentino’s work avoids a discussion of semantics when dealing with the definition of genocide. Instead, the author’s book centers on “mass killings” of more than fifty thousand in number (Pp. 3-4). In so doing, Valentino broadens the scope of his argument by including numerous mass killings that are often ignored in the traditional study of genocide. Valentino also argues that the traditional understanding of genocide as being motivated by “severe ethnic, racial, national, or religious divisions” does not hold up, since “some of the bloodiest mass killings in history have occurred in relatively homogeneous societies” (Pp. 2). Valentino continues his assault on the traditional historiography of genocide by also suggesting that the “traditional studies of genocide have tended to diminish the role of leadership on the grounds that the interests and ideas of a few elites cannot account for the participation of the rest of society in the violence” (Pp. 2). Instead, Valentino proposes in his research that mass killing “occurs when leaders believe that their victims pose a threat that can be countered only by removing them from society or by permanently destroying their ability to organize” (Pp. 5).

To defend his thesis that leaders are responsible for mass killing as opposed to the masses, Valentino provides a detailed comparison between several similar regimes. For example, Valentino makes special mention of the racial tensions that permeated both German and South African society, along with the various forms of intolerance that covered Asia After briefly discussing the backgrounds of these regimes, Valentino poses a question to his audience: Why does mass killing occur in only some of these regimes, which, on the surface, appear to be very similar? Valentino then answers his question by suggesting that a cohesive leadership of elites, with an objective to consolidate their power, is the catalyst for mass killing. By pointing out that perpetrators of mass killing see their actions as, “a rational way to counter threats or implement certain types of ideologies,” Valentino discards the assumption that these regimes kill simply for the sake of killing.

To support his claims, Valentino focuses on three distinct groups of mass killings: communist, ethnic and counterguerrilla mass killings. In the first of these three classifications (which Valentino claims is responsible for the largest number of mass killings), Valentino focuses on the communist regimes of China, the Soviet Union and Cambodia. Valentino then points out the fact that these regimes have resorted to mass killings in an effort to secure that their social changes are met. As Valentino points out, “the effort to engineer utopia has been the justification for some of the world’s most horrendous crimes” (Pp. 92). For communist regimes to secure this “utopia,” they are often required to redistribute land and wealth, which is understandably a difficult change for the masses to accept. For this reason, communist regimes have embarked on some of the worst mass killing policies in world history. As Valentino points out, “The history of communism in the Soviet Union, China, and Cambodia is a powerful demonstration of the degree to which historical accidents, serendipity, and the power of individual personalities can determine the rise of extremely radical and violent groups’ (Pp. 150).

In his second group, ethnic mass killings, Valentino pays special attention to the Nazi regime and its motivations for committing to a policy of ethnic mass killings. Valentino emphasizes the fact that the Nazi regime (along with other regimes that are guilty of mass killings) had a specific strategic goal in mind, as opposed to the traditional assumption that they were simply out for blood. As Valentino writes, “Ethnic mass killings, especially the Holocaust, have tended to be portrayed as little more than killing for killing’s sake…The strategic approach, however, suggests that ethnic mass killing occurs when leaders come to believe that large-scale violence is the most practical way to accomplish a policy of ethnic cleansing” (Pp. 155). By focusing on the ethnic cleansing of Turkish Armenia, Nazi Germany, and Rwanda, Valentino provides his audience with ample insight into the evolution of how these regimes came to embrace mass killings as the only plausible solution to their respective ethnic dilemmas.

In the third group of mass killings addressed in his work, counterguerilla mass killings, Valentino discusses how a number of guerilla insurgencies (particularly in Guatemala and Afghanistan) have compelled governments to adopt a policy of mass killing. Valentino points out the fact that these forms of mass killing often come about not because an army becomes undisciplined or fed-up with the guerilla opposition it faces. Instead, Valentino suggests that counterguerilla forces often see their efforts as being “positive policies designed to improve the lives of the civilian population and draw support away from guerillas” (Pp. 199). In essence, the justification for such actions embraces the notion that one must kill in order to save.

Though often contrary to the traditional understanding of genocide, Valentino’s work provides us with a unique perspective into the causes and motivations behind mass killings. By suggesting that mass killings are primarily the result of an elite leadership, Valentino also proposes that we can better prevent these atrocities from happening again, by being proactive against regimes that have committed to the rapid disposal of a specific group from their society. An objective insight into the causes of mass killing, which Valentino considers to be born out of a political motivation to eliminate a perceived threat as opposed to simple hatred, may serve to prevent future atrocities from ever happening again

The Black Death: A Rat Problem?

For decades, scholars have maintained that the Black Death, one of the most devastating pandemics in human history, was the result of fleas living on the hair of oriental rats. These rats then made their way via merchant ships to the shores of Europe, where poor sanitation in the highly populated (and filthy) towns proved to be a perfect breeding ground for the Bubonic Plague. Long story short, at least 1/3 (and possibly as much as 50%) of Europe's population was killed off by the plague between the years 1346-1353.

But one new scholar isn't buying the traditional explanation of how the Black Death came to Europe. Historian Barney Sloane, author of the book, The Black Death in London, claims that rats were not the carriers off Bubonic Plague. In an interview with The Guardian, Sloane reveals the reasons behind his unorthodox conclusions:

The evidence just isn't there to support it," said Barney Sloane, author of The Black Death in London. "We ought to be finding great heaps of dead rats in all the waterfront sites but they just aren't there. And all the evidence I've looked at suggests the plague spread too fast for the traditional explanation of transmission by rats and fleas. It has to be person to person – there just isn't time for the rats to be spreading it."

He added: "It was certainly the Black Death but it is by no means certain what that disease was, whether in fact it was bubonic plague."

[...]

Sloane believes there was little difference in mortality rates between rich and poor, because they lived so closely packed together. The plague, he is convinced, spread from person to person in the crowded city.

Mortality continued to rise throughout the bitterly cold winter, when fleas could not have survived, and there is no evidence of enough rats.

Black rat skeletons have been found at 14th-century sites, but not in high enough numbers to make them the plague carriers, he said.

In sites beside the Thames, where most of the city's rubbish was dumped and rats should have swarmed, and where the sodden ground preserves organic remains excellently, few black rats have been found.

It is sometimes hard for us in the modern era to understand just how horrific the Black Death really was for 14th century Europeans. There is no doubt that the Black Death effected every single citizen of the Western world. Even if they themselves survived the horrible infection of Bubonic Plague they would have certainly known several people who died from it. Sloane provides an excellent illustration of just how terrible the Black Death was for those who lived through it:

It appeared to the citizens that everyone in the world might die. Richard de Shordych left goods and money to his son Benedict when he died in early March: his son outlived him by a fortnight.

Money, youth, and formerly robust good health were no protection. Edward III's own daughter, Joan, sailed for Spain with her trousseau, her dowry and her bridesmaids, to marry Pedro, heir to the throne of Castile. She would never see her wedding day as she died of the plague within 10 days of landing.

John of Reading, a monk in Westminster, left one of the few witness accounts. He described deaths happening so fast there was "death without sorrow, marriage without affection, self-imposed penance, want without poverty, and flight without escape".

In Rochester, William of Dene wrote that nobody could be found to bury the dead, "but men and women carried the bodies of their own little ones to church on their shoulders and threw them into mass graves from which arose such a stink that it was barely possible for anyone to go past a churchyard".

Sloane estimates that people living near the cemetery at Aldersgate, which is now buried under Charterhouse Square, in Smithfield, would have seen a corpse carried past every five minutes at the height of the plague.

As for Sloane's conclusions that the Bubonic Plague wasn't carried by fleas on the backs of rats, I cannot say. I am not familiar enough with the different ways that the Bubonic Plague could have been transmitted. I am skeptical, however, of Sloane's conclusion that the Black Death may not have been Bubonic Plague at all but in fact some other type of infection. In his excellent book, In the Wake of the Plague historian Norman Cantor (who is one of the top Medieval historians today) provides a detailed look at how the Black Death infected the human body. Not surprisingly, it matches exactly with what the Bubonic Plague does.

Bubonic Plague (which is usually circulated via fleas on the backs of rodents...another massive hurdle for Sloane to jump) is a horrific infection of the lymph glands, which causes severe pain, inflamation of the glands usually under the armpit and groin area, fever, coughing, vomiting and eventuality death. The most obvious symptom is that of rotting flesh, which causes extreme pain to the victim, not to mention a horrible stench. In fact, the famous nursery rhyme "Ring Around the Rosie" is believed to have its origins in the Black Death:

1.) "Ring Around the Rosie": signifies a rosy rash that was often seen as a symptom of the early onset of Bubonic Plague.

2,) "Pocket Full of Posies": Some suggest that this line has reference to either flowers being held by the dead prior to burial or to the fact that many Europeans carried posies of herbs to hopefully ward off infection and to ward off the terrible smell of the disease.

3.) "Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down": Of course, reference to death itself and the possible cremation that came with dying from Bubonic Plague.

No matter how the Black Death was transmitted, there is no question that it completely changed Europe. Few historians will argue the fact that the Black Death changed Europe's economics, social construct and even religious perspective. Many have gone so far as to suggest that the Black Death helped to bring about the Protestant Reformation. After all, not even the priests of the church could stop the spread of the horrific plague.

Book Review: Was America Founded as a Christian Nation?

Was America Founded as a Christian Nation? A Historical Introduction. By John Fea. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011. Pp. 287).

Was America founded to be a "Christian Nation?" Did its founders endeavor to create a nation where Christ and Cross were joined hand-in-hand with the Constitution? And if so, how is America's current makeup in harmony/defiance with the "original intent" of our nation's Founding Fathers? These are just some of the questions addressed by John Fea, historian and author of the book, Was America Founded as a Christian Nation? A Historical Introduction. With the current climate of today's culture wars, which seem more interested in mud-slinging, name-calling and partisan hostility than honest scholarly inquiry, Dr. Fea's book is a breath of fresh air that cuts through the nonsense with its sharp historical foundation.

Fea's book jumps right out of the gate to address many of the problems facing the current culture wars v. the actual study of early American history. Appealing to the formula created by historians Thomas Andrews and Flannery Burke, Fea suggests that greater clarity on the issue of religion and America's founding can be achieved by adherence to the "Five C's": history CHANGES over time, must be put in proper CONTEXT, is interested in CAUSALITY, is CONTINGENT upon prior conditions and is often very COMPLEX. With this framework in mind, Fea effectively lays out the problems many of the culture warriors face when they simplify history to fit their respective agenda:

Such an approach to the past is more suitable for a lawyer than for a historian...The lawyer cares about the past only to the degree that he or she can use a legal decision in the past to win a case in the present...The historian, however, does not encounter the past in this way (xxvi).

In other words, the "tug-o-war" mentality of today's culture warriors means that they aren't concerned with what history has to say, but with what they can say about history, and in the process the truth has become lost (or less important).

To get the reader back on the Yellow Brick Road of historical accuracy and out of the "sound-bite culture that makes it difficult to have any sustained dialogue", Fea divides his book into three parts. In part I, Fea examines the evolution of the "Christian Nation" thesis by exploring how its conceptualization meant different things at different times to different groups of people. For example, Fea notes how southerners, during the Civil War, endeavored to portray the United States as a godless, sinful society while their new Confederacy embraced the Christian God with open arms:

Southerners looking for evidence that the Confederacy was a Christian nation needed to look no further than their Constitution. Unlike the U.S. Constitution, which does not mention God, the Preamble of the constitution of the Confederate States of America made a direct appeal to "Almighty God." (17).

In addition, Fea also mentions the ironic (but often ignored) fact that many liberals during the post-Civil War era supported the "Christian Nation" thesis while many conservatives rejected it. Liberal preachers like Henry Ward Beecher (who, like many preachers today, ended up in a messy sex scandal) campaigned vigorously in favor of America's Christian identity. They sought to ensure that America's destiny was in harmony with Christ's admonition to help the poor, sick, etc.:

These Protestants thought that the Christian identity of the United States should be defined by the way society and government behaved. The citizens of a Christian nation followed the social teachings of Jesus...Those who championed the social gospel sought to advance the cause of justice and love throughout the nation and the world. (37).

Liberal Evangelicals, advocating for the social changes needed in a "Christian Nation." Surely enough to make Glenn Beck's head explode in confusion and rage!

In Part II of his book, Fea addresses the question, "Was the American Revolution a Christian Event?" To address this question, Fea juxtaposes America's "planting" (i.e. the migration of the Puritans) to America's "founding" (the actual creation of the United States). Fea's analysis of America's planting reveals that although many of the first settlers to the "New World" came for religious reasons, their motives weren't always as "Christian" as we sometimes think. For example, the early Puritans, who crossed the Atlantic to ensure "religious freedom" made sure to establish the same rigid rules to protect their faith that had existed back home in England. In other words, America became a land of Christian liberty, so long as your Christianity fell in line with the accepted Christianity. In addition, Fea points out the fact that religion was far from the exclusive motivator for New World colonization. Economic factors (i.e. the "Get rich quick" mentality) became central to the motivations behind American colonization.

When speaking of America's founding Fea discusses the role that religion played in shaping the revolutionary rhetoric that led up to independence. In essence, Fea suggests that religion served as an effective rallying cry, as ministers wielded Christianity as a sword in favor of independence. And though this religious rhetoric proved extremely effective, the American Revolution was hardly a religious debate. Fea writes:

the most important documents connected to the coming of the American Revolution focused more on Enlightenment political theory about the constitutional and natural rights of British subjects than on any Christian or biblical reason why resistance to the Crown was necessary. (106).

Fea supports this assertion by pointing to founding documents such as the Declaration of Independence, Articles of Confederation and the federal Constitution. He suggests that all three documents (especially the Constitution) remain intentionally neutral on the topic of religion. In consequence, the Founders essentially left the issue of religion up to the individual states. As a result, the founders were effectively able to endorse the United States as a religious nation without giving Christianity any preference points.

In part III Fea examines the individual religious views of many key founders. In so doing, Fea effectively illustrates the fact that America's founders included devout, orthodox Christians (John Witherspoon, John Jay and Samuel Adams), secular Deists who doubted the divinity of Jesus and Christianity (Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson), and unitarian-leaning devotees, who detested orthodoxy but valued public and private religious devotion (George Washington and John Adams). This part of Fea's book is perhaps the most valuable because it shows that America's founding was as diverse as its participants. There was room at the table for Christians of all flavors as well as for skeptics of all shapes and colors.

In summary, Was America Founded as a Christian Nation is a fantastic introduction into this complex but fascinating era of American history. John Fea effectively sweeps away most of the smoke and mirrors employed by various culture warriors on both sides, thus allowing the history to speak for itself. So was America founded as a Christian nation? It probably depends on how you define those terms. Much of this debate is simply an argument over semantics. The more important question is, "can we cut through the convoluted mess of the culture wars and get at an answer"?

John Fea's book is proof that we can.

Alexander Hamilton's Religion

In my studies of the Founding Fathers (particularly their religious beliefs) I have found Alexander Hamilton to be an interesting enigma of sorts. Here was a man, who by all standards, should have never made it into the history books. Having been born on an obscure island to a mother who was essentially a whore and having little education, one would never expect to see Hamilton rise to the heights he achieved. So how did Hamilton achieve such incredible heights? It's actually quite simple: he was a genius.

And when it comes to Hamilton's religious beliefs the story becomes even more intriguing. To be certain, Hamilton was a religious man during the early years of his life. However, it appears that Hamilton's devotion wavered during his middle years only to come alive again at the end.

So what do we make of Hamilton's devotion/lack of devotion to religion?

Ron Chernow, who has written one of the best biographies of Hamilton, states the following on the role that religion played in the life of America's first (and maybe greatest) Secretary of the Treasury:

It is striking how religion preoccupied Hamilton during his final years. When head of the new Army, he had asked Congress to hire a chaplain for each brigade so that his soldiers could worship. Although he had been devout as a young man, praying fiercely at King's College, his religious faith had ebbed during the Revolution. Like other founders and thinkers of the Enlightenment, he was disturbed by religious fanaticism and tended to associate organized religion with superstition. While a member of Washington's military family, he wrote that "there never was any mischief but had a priest or a woman at the bottom." As treasury secretary, he had said, "The world has been scourged with many fanatical sects in religion who, inflamed by a sincere but mistaken zeal, have perpetuated under the idea of serving God the most atrocious crimes."

The atheism of the French Revolution and Jefferson's ostensible embrace of it (Jefferson was a deist who doubted the divinity of Christ, but not an atheist) helped to restore Hamilton's interest in religion. He said indignantly in his 1796 "Phocion" essays, "Mr. Jefferson has been heard to say since his return from France that the men of letters and philosophers he had met with in the country were generally atheists." He thought James Monroe had also been infected by godless philosophers in Paris and pictured the two Virginians dining together to "fraternize and philosophize against the Christian religion and the absurdity of religious worship." For Hamilton, religion formed the basis of all law and morality, and he thought the world would be a hellish place without it.

But did Hamilton believe sincerely in religion, or was it just politically convenient? Like Washington, he never talked about Christ and took refuge in vague references to "providence" or "heaven." He did not seem to attend services with Eliza, who increasingly spoke the language of evangelical Christianity, and did not belong formally to a denomination, even though Eliza rented a pew at Trinity Church. He showed no interest in liturgy, sectarian doctrine, or public prayer. The old discomfort with organized religion had not entirely vanished. On the other hand, Eliza was a woman of such deep piety that she would never have married someone who did not share her faith to some degree. Hamilton believed in a happy afterlife for the virtuous that would offer "far more substantial bliss than can ever be found in this checkered, this ever varying, scene!" He once consoled a friend in terms that left no doubt of his overarching faith in a moral order: "Arraign not the dispensations of Providence. They must be founded in wisdom and goodness. And when they do not suit us, it must be because there is some fault in ourselves which deserves chastisement or because there is a kind intent to correct in us some vice or failing of which perhaps we may not be conscious." How did Hamilton interpret God's lessen after the death of Phillip?

The papers of John Church Hamilton provide fresh evidence of his father's genuine religiosity in later years. He said that Hamilton experienced a resurgence of his youthful fervor, prayed daily, and scribbled many notes in the margin of the family Bible. A lawyer in training, Hamilton wanted logical proofs of religion, not revelation, and amply annotated his copy of A View of the Evidences of Christianity, by William Paley. "I have examined carefully the evidence of the Christian religion," he told one friend, "and if I was sitting as a juror upon its authenticity, I should rather abruptly give my verdict in its favor." To Eliza, he said of Christianity, "I have studied it and I can prove its truth as clearly as any proposition ever submitted to the mind of man." John Church Hamilton believed that the time his father spent at the Grange, strolling about the grounds, broadened his religious awareness. During his final months, he was walking with Eliza in the woods and speaking of children when he suddenly turned to her and said in an enraptured voice, "I may yet have twenty years, please God, and and I will one day build for them a chapel in this grove."(Alexander Hamilton, 659-660)

For the most part, Chernow seems to be in agreement with the general points of history regarding Hamilton's personal faith: he was religious as a youth, became less religious during his middle years -- though never anti-religious -- and renewed his commitment to God/religion at the end of his life. During his middle years, when religion seemed to be of less importance in his life, Chernow argues that Hamilton used religion more as a political tool than anything else. In this way, Hamilton can be likened to some politicians/pastors today, who use religion as a political tool of sorts.

Maybe things don't change as much as we think!

George Marsden on the "Christian Nation" Debate

George Marsden, a history professor at the University of Notre Dame and author of several books on religion in American history, gave the following lecture at a conference for the Organization of American Historians in 2007. In the video, Marsden points out the role that Protestantism had in shaping American religious history. In addition, Marsden counters the "Christian Nation" assertion by pointing to the religious plurality that Protestantism brought to the shores of the "New World." Marsden is one of the most respected historians on American religious history, and is himself a practicing Evangelical Christian. Along with historians like Mark Noll and Nathan Hatch, Marsden has labored to shed light on the origins and influence of the nonsensical "Christian Nation" argument and its numerous historical errors.

The video is short, but is a nice "appetizer." For a more in depth look into this topic try Marsden's books, Fundamentalism and American Culture" and Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism.

Part I:


Part II:


Part III: