Sunday, July 5, 2015

A Christian Nation?

Once in a while, I tend to ramble and you are the victims.  A long national holiday started me thinking about these things.


"The United States was founded as a Christian nation."
When I hear such statements—often from a radio host—I am tempted to answer with one of several questions.
“What do you mean by ‘Christian’?”
“Are you kidding?”
“So what if it was?”
What if someone less certain simply asks, “Was the United States founded as a ‘Christian’ nation?”  Well, then I am ready to answer with a resounding “Probably not.”
When popular radio hosts or conservative “historians” hear such answers they insist those offering them are engaging in “revisionist history.”   There are more complicated explanations of revisionist history but, simply put, these critics are referring to rewriting the traditionally held view of the past to create an altered picture that denigrates or maligns a culture’s heroes.  Such rewriting, we’re told, is politically motivated—liberals trying to put American icons like Jefferson or Lincoln in the worst possible light. 
What if the so-called revisionist history is really just history revisited, a perspective on the past that takes into account previously overlooked information?  Certainly that can happen.  Just the other day I was wandering through a used bookshop and saw a biography of Bill Cosby.
Doubtless the book covers Cosby’s work in I Spy, the creation of “Fat Albert, and the impact of the Huxtable family on TV.  But the book was written several years ago.  Imagine a high-school freshman in 2115, for instance, finding a copy of that biography in a box of her great-grandfather’s possessions, reading about Cosby’s groundbreaking career in television, and coming to admire this funny man so popular in the twentieth century.  Imagine, further, this teenager decides to report on this book in her American history class during African-American history week. 
She duly makes her report only to have her teacher say, “You mentioned nothing about his terrible behavior toward women.  He almost certainly sexually-harassed women throughout his career.” 
Our teenaged student might be devastated to discover this but would she be fair in charging her teacher with being a revisionist historian?
No, some tweaking of the past is based on recently discovered or previously neglected facts.
We have to remember some history is a matter of simple fact.  The Declaration of Independence was adopted on 4 July 1776.  But the great image of all those American patriots gathered around the desk to sign the Declaration?  That wasn’t July 4, that was August 2.  So the wonderful scene at the end of the musical, 1776, is inaccurate.  Nevertheless, the Declaration was adopted and the brave founders did sign it.  Simple facts.
A lot of other history is a matter of interpretation.  That is where we disagree, sowing the seeds of suspicion about motives and objectivity.  We rightly celebrate Thomas Jefferson saying, “all men are created equal [and] they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights….” But if we claim Jefferson had in mind the God of Christian orthodoxy, we will be challenged by any number of historians. 
Over the years I’ve followed the debate over whether we can legitimately say, “The United States was founded as a Christian nation.”  With rare exceptions each side marshals the same litany of quotes, for or against the proposition.  As I have weighed the evidence, I’ve concluded our nation was not founded as a “Christian nation.”   Nor, was it founded as an “anti-Christian nation.”
Jefferson greatly admired Jesus; but this was not the Jesus of Christian orthodoxy.  Though he is often described as a “deist,” I suspect he was much more akin to a Unitarian.  In any case, devotion to the “rational” kept him from accepting miracles or special revelation.  He found much in the Bible to be worthwhile, much in the Bible to be nonsense.  Thus, he created for his private use a collection of Jesus’ sayings that has come to be known as The Jefferson Bible. References to Jesus’ miracles and resurrection are excised. 
Despite his rejection of orthodox Christianity, Jefferson believed the culture benefited from the work of the Christian churches.  In particular, he believed the Indians would be better fitted to live within the American culture if they were converted to Christianity.  Thus, he supported mission work among the Cherokee and in the so-called Western Reserve. 
Many of those who followed him into the presidency would share that opinion about the unifying, civilizing value of Christianity.  Some, like John Adams, seem to have been more open to Christian orthodoxy; some like, James Madison, provide ammunition for atheist and believer alike to squabble over in trying to define that president’s religious commitment; and some, like Lincoln, may have changed their religious views later in life (Lincoln, perhaps, became a believer only after facing personal tragedy and the stress of war).  But, again, as fascinating as exploring the faith of the presidents might be, such inquiries do not provide a definitive answer to the question of whether the United States was founded as a Christian nation.
Of course, even if we could demonstrate that the United States was founded as a Christian nation, it wouldn’t necessarily prove anything (hence the “so what” question).  To explain, let me use an analogy from south of the border.
During the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, Spain was beginning to explore and settle what would become Mexico and South America.  King Ferdinand, Queen Isabella, Christopher Columbus, and others all saw the “discovery” of this new world as an opportunity to spread Christianity.  Mexico’s conqueror, Hernán Cortéz, openly described his motives in evangelistic terms; he conquered the natives “to attract them so that they would come to the knowledge of our holy Catholic faith.”  A strange evangelism, to be sure, but it led to Cortéz being viewed in almost messianic terms; at least, he was viewed as one who, unlike the heretic Luther, brought new lands under the sway of the papacy rather than stealing them away.  He even urged the crown to request Franciscan and Dominican friars to be sent to Mexico because he believed they, unlike other orders or secular clergy, would be most likely to commit themselves to converting the Indians.[1]  So, nearly three centuries before the Declaration of Independence, a nation that would be larger than the infant United States was founded as a Christian nation.
Yet, within two decades of Columbus’s discovery, those evangelizing friars were blasting the Spanish conquerors for their maltreatment of the natives.  Brave men like Dominican Bartolomé de Las Casas and Franciscan Gerónimo de Mendieta underscored the injustice of enslaving the Indians to work the fields and the mines, of seizing their property, and of carrying off the nation’s wealth to fill a foreign king’s treasury.  Las Casas would eventually claim the Conquistadors and the newly arrived land barons had committed “mortal sin,” incurring God’s anger.   In 1511, Dominican Antonio de Montesinos preached to the Europeans:  “You are in mortal sin…for the cruelty and tyranny you use in dealing with these innocent people…   Be certain that in such a state as this you can no more be saved than a Moor or a Turk.”[2]  In the eyes of the friars, the Spaniards had forfeited any claim to be leading a Christian nation.
In the same way, even if the founders of the United States had claimed they had created a Christian nation, their subsequent behavior belied the claim.  The continuation of slavery for three-quarters of a century after the Declaration, the heartless displacement of the Indians, and the hubris of “manifest destiny” should cause us to pause before claiming our nation was ever a Christian nation—officially, at least.
But how did the image of the United States as a “Christian nation” ever develop?  Why could a gifted American church historian describe America as “the nation with the soul of a church?”
The answer to these questions lies in the blend of several factors, both good and bad, that created the American ethos. 
First, the new nation was heir to a culture largely shaped by the Christian worldview.  Thus, while Jefferson, Franklin, and others might not have embraced the finer points of Christian theology; Christianity had shaped their moral outlook.  Although the truth was inconsistently applied, it was Christianity that first affirmed the fundamental value of each person. 
Second, many Americans embraced the notion that America was a new Israel, that Americans were God’s chosen people.  It was this notion Roger Williams rebelled against in seventeenth century Massachusetts and would inspire preachers like Jonathan Edwards and others to suggest America might be the locus of the coming Kingdom of God.  Even among those who wouldn’t know post-millennialism from a post-it, this perspective justified any course the nation might take.
Third, for at least the first half of the nation’s history Evangelicals had an influence in the culture far beyond their mere numbers.  Denominations that today seem weak and rudderless were once dynamos of evangelism and social reform, reform tied to Biblical morality and evangelism reflecting Biblical notions of sin and the power of the cross.  Without ever surrendering the priority of evangelism, these Evangelicals relentlessly attacked slavery.  While it would be wrong to say they were the only factor in bringing about the end of the “peculiar institution,” it is bad history to ignore their influence.  Throughout the nineteenth century periodic revivals reinvigorated Evangelicalism in the country.  Then, the rise of theological liberalism and failure to immediately rise to the challenges of a changing world caused Evangelicals to retreat.  Fortunately, that retreat was short-lived and they emerged with greater enthusiasm in the post-war years.  But they would never again have the influence on the nation’s spiritual life they once had.
Fourth, even after the rise of theological liberalism and the advent of non-Protestant influences in America, a Protestant-informed civil religion prevailed in much of the nation.  From blue laws to dry counties, from Bible reading in school to movie censorship this “religion” shaped our lives.  Its foundation began to crack in the 1950s (or earlier) and now the edifice has crumbled almost everywhere.

******
I was inspired to do this bit of historical meandering by an email I received suggesting patriotism is somehow sinful, the shock some of my friends have expressed at the Supreme Court’s ruling on same-sex marriage (though how they could have expected anything else puzzles me), and an article by a Canadian pastor hoping to comfort his American brothers and sisters who might be dismayed by the Court’s ruling.

I’ve heard the first claim before.  I have looked at the Bible and can’t find any suggestion that love for one’s country is somehow wrong.  Any suggestion that America has never done anything shameful is simply wrong.  But as Christians we should love our nation enough to say, “Let’s see if we can fix this.”
Now, I do think some of my Christian brothers and sisters are engaging in some wrongheaded patriotism—the kind that balks at any criticism of our nation.  I admire our military but I won’t mentally sew crosses on each soldier’s shoulder to turn him or her into a modern crusader.  That would be unfair to them and imply that every war they are sent to fight is somehow a “holy” war and beyond criticism.  As a Christian patriot, I will pray for our leaders to have wisdom and insight to do what is best for the nation—not simply a political ideology.
Years ago, in college, I had a friend from another country.  On those rare occasions when we sang “God Bless America” in chapel, he remained silent.  I recall thinking “I wouldn’t mind God blessing his country.”  I like to think most Christian patriots conceive of God as being able to bless our country and another country at the same time with each country being better as a result.  I’m not sure how that works but God can figure it out.
The Supreme Court decision didn’t surprise me.  With only the Constitution as its guide, I don’t see how it could have gone any other way; unless, of course, the justices had said, “The 10th Amendment leaves such matters to the individual states” but no one could have seriously expected that.  The decision will create challenges for our churches (see The Challenge of Same-Sex Marriage elsewhere on this blog).  But the decision also may benefit the churches.  No, not because they will earn more money with wedding fees.  For a long time, I have believed some Christians have relied on the state to do the work transforming society, doing the work that properly belongs to the church.  Many scholars believe Matthew 5:13-14 may be translated, “You and you alone are the salt of the earth…You and you alone are the light of the world.”  In a pointed comment on this verse John Stott suggests that if the world continues to become corrupt and the darkness continues to advance, we are not to blame the world; we are to blame ourselves.
This links to what the Canadian pastor said.  He said we should not expect those in the non-Christian world to behave like Christians.  That is certainly true but he’s only a Canadian.[3] 
Yes, American Christians shouldn’t expect the non-Christian culture to behave Christianly.  But, in fairness, we need to be patient with our friends who mourn the Court’s decision; their theology of sin is probably correct but their minds are temporarily clouded by naiveté and nostalgia.




[1] Luis N. Revera-Pagán, “Violence of the Conquistadores and Prophetic Indignation,” Must Christianity be Violent? Reflections on History, Practice, and Theology, Ed. K. R. Chase and A. Jacobs, Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2003, 40-43.
[2]  Ibid, p. 46-47.
[3]  That’s a joke, eh.