Early in my college career, I read an essay by Jonathan Edwards (“A Spiritual Autobiography”) and another by Benjamin Franklin ((“A Serviceable Religion”). Each discusses the place of religion in our national life. The purpose of the assignment was to contrast the authors’ styles, attitudes, and conclusions. Whereas Edwards is dramatic and passionate, Franklin is controlled and urbane. Whereas Edwards concludes that one must “lie low before God, as in the dust,” Franklin calls for a creed that “might be serviceable to People in all Religions.” If Edwards sounds like a preacher evangelizing at a tent meeting, where-- at any moment--a congregant might fall to the ground, babbling in tongues and clutching snakes, Franklin sounds like a statesman addressing scientists and philosophers, where--at any moment--a colleague might express an intriguing idea, promoting further discussion.
This assignment was an opportunity for the class to consider two paths for dealing with religion in America. Edwards focuses on propitiating an aggrieved deity, all the while ignoring the work that is necessary to establish and maintain a healthy government. In contrast, Franklin channels religious principles into a creed of personal and national growth, encouraging those behaviors that promote a more perfect union. Edwards, a powerful figure in The Great Awakening, denigrates human achievement as dangerously delusional, whereas Franklin, a product of the Enlightenment, believes human achievement is a catalyst to promote the common good.
In his sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” Edwards denounces the efforts of what he calls “natural men,” that is men who seek knowledge, rather than salvation. Unfortunately for Edwards, rational thought had yielded breakthrough discoveries in a variety of endeavors--science, mathematics, medicine, art, literature, and politics. This knowledge was not the result of divine inspiration or supernatural intervention. Rather, it was the result of curiosity, perseverance, and courage—often in the face of resistance from leaders whose power was the direct result of their suppressing knowledge, creativity, and freedom.
In his writings, especially his advocacy for the final draft of The Constitution, Franklin understands both the limits and the potential of human knowledge. Unlike Edwards, who reduces humanity to the wiggling of a spider held over the Pit of Hell by a God whose Wrath “burns like Fire,” Franklin understands that an assembly such as the Constitutional Convention will be shaped by the humanity of its delegates: “all their prejudices, their passions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views.” Franklin asks whether “from such an assembly can a perfect production be expected”. Although The Constitution that governs us today was—and is—not perfect, Franklin expresses pleasure that the document produced in Philadelphia approaches “so near to perfection.”
Our Constitution is not the product of loathsome arachnids hanging by a thread over the Pit of Hell. Rather, it is the finest political document produced by the human race. As with all human endeavors, it is to be employed, amended, and adapted, not followed as if it were Scripture. Freed from the Wrath of an Angry God, the human mind can produce works capable of effecting dramatic changes in our lives.
The thinking of Jonathan Edwards--and that of his modern hell-raising descendants—is dangerous to a democratic republic because it divides humanity into the worthy and the unworthy, giving God’s chosen a mandate to impose their creed on those who are merely “natural” and as Edwards insists, in a “Dreadful Condition.” Rather than making artificial distinctions and divisions, The Constitution makes all of its citizens sovereign. Rather than groveling before kings, the citizens of a democratic republic stand erect, assume command, and steer the nation forward to a better tomorrow. Whereas Edwards’ world is stagnant and terrifying, Franklin’s world is dynamic and hopeful.
Regardless of Edwards’ use of “little white flower” or “child” to describe the relationship of a “true Christian” to God, the fact remains that he sees humanity as “nothing” and God as ALL. I must pause to ask in what universe is it proper for a child to be nothing and a parent to be all? At the very least, such a relationship is not a paradigm for a loving family.
Aside from eating dirt, how does Edwards’ “true Christian” manifest faith in the world? By obedience to leaders, of course. Every denomination has a hierarchy to whom the flowers and the children must show obeisance. Further, every denomination encourages its members to be respectful of those in authority, preaching a dubious form of follow the leader. Apparently, none of them have read The Declaration of Independence, which devotes the majority of its text to denouncing King George III’s abuses of power. In specific detail.
Even today, a subtle disregard for the responsibilities of citizenship is preached in America’s pulpits. Of course, every denomination has its charities, which pop up with regularity when the collection plate is passed around, but the root of today’s problems is never addressed. In a democratic republic, elected officials are not leaders. Rather, elected officials are employees. The people themselves are the leaders. If we-- the people--hire defective employees and fail to hold them accountable, we are flirting with political behavior that accepts the divine right of kings. Few congregants understand that they—and they alone—have the power to effect change. Hymns, prayers, and dollars in a collection plate are distractions from the necessary work of citizenship, such as education, activism, and voting. Unfortunately. the majority of Christians in America are descents of Jonathan Edwards, not of Benjamin Franklin, and are likely to cast their ballots for a king, not a president. Such behavior would please Edwards and repulse Franklin, but what can one expect from “little white flowers” for whom the common good is willful ignorance born of fear and loathing?
Is it any wonder that Evangelicals overwhelmingly favor Donald Trump? All their lives, they have feigned humility, while arguing that their extremist creed is the Will of God. If you argue with them, you argue with God. Take that, “natural men.” Why waste time with The Constitution when they have Holy Scripture, and as evangelical preachers crow, “You can’t change the laws of God.” For these “little white flowers,” Trump is an angry god, whose wrath will fall upon the unworthy: a list so long that you are probably on it
As dispensing unsolicited and unwelcome advice is the raison d’detre for this crowd, I will answer them in kind:
Feel free to indulge in whatever intoxicants make you happy--guns, tobacco, alcohol, cannabis, or scripture--but do so in your personal space, not in mine. Before you bring your fanaticism into the public domain, remember that you will encounter a diversity of people. That is the essence of a democratic republic. Although you believe you have a mandate to control lives, your creed is but one of many--all of which are tolerated, but none of which should ever enjoy preferential treatment. You can jeopardize your own physical or intellectual life, but not mine. Your life is a punishment in and of itself because of all you will never know. Nevertheless, your degradation of the human spirit must never become the launching pad for a new batch of Salem Witch Trials or another Scopes Trial. Regardless of how eager you “little white flowers” are see others burn in the fires of ignorance and intolerance, no one in the market place wants to hear you.
You may be comfortable living in Edward’s world--with your faces in the dust--but those of us living in Franklin’s world--with our faces lifted to the stars-- will not grovel because we have chosen to soar. Our destiny is the future. We cannot take you with us because a more perfect union awaits. You have chosen to ignore all that the just, the humane, and the magnanimous have been saying for generations. As a result, your grasp upon tomorrow is as tenuous as that of a spider hanging over the pit.
In the future, when you realize that the one holding that slender thread is you, not an Angry God, and when that slender thread breaks, plunging you into an abyss of your own making never to return, excuse me if I do not mourn.