Whenever I hand a test back to a class, I invoke the "Lantzer 24 hour Rule" which states that no matter what grade they got, I will not talk to them about their tests until the next day. This allows them to re-read their answers not just in light of their grade but also my comments and to actually stop and think about what it is they've just gotten back. I think that is a good rule in life, not just because I often make snap judgements myself, but because a little reflection usually isn't a bad thing.
As its been over a day since the Supreme Court of the United States struck down the federal Defense of Marriage Act, I've had some time to reflect on what it means when it comes to the Mainline. In large part, I've been thinking about a question one of my students asked of me in my American Religious History class this past spring, right after SCOTUS heard arguments in the case: He asked if the High Court overturned DOMA, did that signal the demise of the Religious Right and the ascent of the Religious Left? As I've thought about it, my answer then was fairly accurate, so I thought I'd expand on it, and share it here.
To begin with, I said, there is much more (despite what some will tell you) to this debate than just religion and morality (as important as it is to some of those involved). Yes, Religious conservatives support DOMA and the traditional definition of marriage being between one man and one woman. And yes, many Religious liberals are arguing against it (more often than not talking about God's love for all humanity and how homosexual marriages can be a reflection of that divine love). But that being said, there are two other areas that are much more significant. The first is politics. Here, we aren't talking about national trends in culture or the make up of Congress, rather the political make up of the High Court. While there is a 5-4 split in Republican/Democratic appointees; on any given issue a coalition of justices can form that can alter that balance (longtime court watchers have long ago concluded that Justice Kennedy enjoys that title and the power that comes with it, see here for example). The other area is law. Not only DOMA itself (a bipartisan law, crafted when Bill Clinton was president), but also complications that have, can, and do arise when non-married partners either break up or have something catastrophic happen (a health care emergency for example) -- legal issues that aren't confined to just homosexual relationships, but have become increasingly prominent in cases over the past decade or so.
Thinking about that first part of my answer now, I should have gone on and done something "political sciencey" and just predicted that DOMA would be overturned. But I'm an historian, so I didn't. But that wasn't the end of my student's question, he had also asked about the ramifications of a DOMA ruling for religious Americans. Already, within that first 24 hours, articles have already appeared from the conservative end of the spectrum (see Christianity Today's excellent editorial here) about what comes next, as well as messages of joy and triumph from those more on the liberal end of the religious (and dare I say probably political) end of the spectrum (see here for what one UCC/Congregational Church did, and here for what the Episcopal Church has said).
But, was the ruling a "victory" for the Religious Left? While it might be spun as such, I would say it was more of a political victory than it was a religious triumph. My reason for saying so boils down to the fact that if we are looking for the origins of this issue as a reform, it did not originate within either the UCC or Episcopal denominations. Was it reflected in those (and other old Seven Sisters Mainline) denominations? Absolutely. But it was just that, a reflection of something that was going on within the wider culture. It is a case of denominations being influenced by culture, not one of denominational influence on that culture. For conservatives (political and religious alike) the ruling is more apt to be seen as further proof of secularization in American society and within (at least some) of America's churches. What does it mean for the new Mainline that I talk about in the last chapter of my book? Well, for that, we will have to wait and see!
That is my thinking some 24 hours on. At the time of the student question though, I raised another point. And that is about marriage itself. Conservatives (religious and political) were defending DOMA. But why? Why were religious people so invested in how the State defined marriage? Perhaps we should be asking why/how the State got that power to begin with. What, historically, had been the difference between "holy matrimony" and "civil marriage" and when/how had those two things been conflated. If, I asked, the Church had (whether by its own will or by the passage of time) allowed the State to take the lead on dealing with the legality of unions, did we have then or now a Church/State issue on our hands? In that same vein, what were to make of divorce (both within the Church, and in the laws of the State)? Was the Church (writ large, and taking into account it is made up individuals who are imperfect) doing a good job when it came to marriage teaching/counseling in general -- considering the oft cited statistic that half of all marriages (between heterosexuals) end in divorce? If DOMA was repealed I asked, and a given church/denomination refused to perform a wedding ceremony for religious reasons (even if the State approved) because the couple in question was homosexual, could that couple then sue for discrimination? Conservatives argued that repealing DOMA would be a slippery slope, that might lead to calls for legalizing polygamy (for example). Were they right? Can we be sure that they are wrong?
My student didn't have any answers to those questions. Neither did, nor do, I. And quite frankly, neither does anyone else. Despite the joyous bell ringing in some circles and the lamentations (or even conviction that the U.S. is now headed to Hell in a hand basket) in others that the DOMA decision prompted, we mere mortals don't know what the future holds. Nor should any of us, Right or Left, old or new Mainline, assume that this decision is the end all be all. As the aforementioned Christianity Today editorial points out, Supreme Court decisions rarely settle any cultural issue (the debate over abortion hasn't exactly ended). And as my fellow NYU author, Prof. Suzanna Danuta Walters, notes here, there are other issues out there that are bigger and even more important thatn marriage equality (she points out HIV/AIDS as one example). Indeed, I'd put the on going IRS audit story and growing NSA leak story as bigger domestic issues (both for the near and long term) than the DOMA decision this summer (the IRS audit of conservative groups has much larger implications both politically and in potential religious liberty issues than does the demise of DOMA I think). At least so far. In the meantime, there is nothing wrong with reflections and asking questions, and we will see where these and other issues take the Mainline -- both old and new.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Reaching Out
Christians are called to spread the Good News of Christ. Believers of all denominations and creeds, it would seem should be able to agree on this point of the faith. As summer officially begins, we remember John the Baptist (see an excellent article here on how the Church once celebrated "the voice calling in the wilderness") and I note from friends that the time of short term missionary trips has started, it is a good thing, I think, to remember how integral this aspect is to the faith.
That being said, one of the nice things about the Internet Age is how connected we can be. In writing this blog, I have been honored to see that it has been visited by people from around the world. So, I thought I might offer a few lines of The Mainline (via Google translate) to those readers from the top three non-English language visiting nations:
In Russian:
"В коллекции конфессий, магистрали всегда были отражать Америки своего времени и места. История полна святые и грешники, близоруко заявлений и дальновидный заявления, не говоря уже о доктринальных дебатов, богословских дискуссиях и политических махинаций, все разыгрывается теми цепляясь за крест Христов. Если не однозначно американская история, а важной частью истории страны, он уже не тот, который либо может и не должен быть проигнорирован. "
- Mainline Христианство: Прошлое и будущее религией большинства Америки, стр. 5.
In German:
"Als Sammlung von Konfessionen hat die Mainline immer repräsentativ für die America ihrer Zeit und Ort. Die Geschichte ist voll von Heiligen und Sündern, kurzsichtig Verlautbarungen und visionäre Aussagen, nicht Lehrdebatten, theologische Diskussionen und politischen Spielereien erwähnen, alle gespielt von denen das Festhalten an dem Kreuz Christi. Falls nicht ein typisch amerikanische Geschichte, als ein wichtiger Teil der Geschichte der Nation, ist es nicht mehr ein, dass entweder oder ignoriert werden sollen. "
- Mainline Christentum: Die Vergangenheit und Zukunft von Amerikas Majority Glaube, Seite 5.
In Chinese:
“作為面額的集合，主線始終是反映美國的時間和地點。故事充滿聖人和罪人的，短視的言論和富有遠見的語句，更何況教義神學辯論，討論和政治把戲，抱住基督的十字架都打出來了，如果沒有一個獨特的美國的故事，它是民族的歷史的重要組成部分，不再是一個，要么可以或應該被忽略。“
- 主線基督教：美國的多數信仰的過去和未來，第5頁。
One day, I hope to explore in more detail the relationship between the Christian faith, its spread, introduction (perhaps its reintroduction), and national expression. While the Church/State relationship (in terms of religious liberty, secularization etc) is important, I have come to think that it is also only a part of the story. In that regard, while there is much more that can and should be done when it comes to the American story, and of which The Mainline is a start, it is only a start and a part of the whole story that is the Christian story writ globally.
That being said, one of the nice things about the Internet Age is how connected we can be. In writing this blog, I have been honored to see that it has been visited by people from around the world. So, I thought I might offer a few lines of The Mainline (via Google translate) to those readers from the top three non-English language visiting nations:
In Russian:
"В коллекции конфессий, магистрали всегда были отражать Америки своего времени и места. История полна святые и грешники, близоруко заявлений и дальновидный заявления, не говоря уже о доктринальных дебатов, богословских дискуссиях и политических махинаций, все разыгрывается теми цепляясь за крест Христов. Если не однозначно американская история, а важной частью истории страны, он уже не тот, который либо может и не должен быть проигнорирован. "
- Mainline Христианство: Прошлое и будущее религией большинства Америки, стр. 5.
In German:
"Als Sammlung von Konfessionen hat die Mainline immer repräsentativ für die America ihrer Zeit und Ort. Die Geschichte ist voll von Heiligen und Sündern, kurzsichtig Verlautbarungen und visionäre Aussagen, nicht Lehrdebatten, theologische Diskussionen und politischen Spielereien erwähnen, alle gespielt von denen das Festhalten an dem Kreuz Christi. Falls nicht ein typisch amerikanische Geschichte, als ein wichtiger Teil der Geschichte der Nation, ist es nicht mehr ein, dass entweder oder ignoriert werden sollen. "
- Mainline Christentum: Die Vergangenheit und Zukunft von Amerikas Majority Glaube, Seite 5.
In Chinese:
“作為面額的集合，主線始終是反映美國的時間和地點。故事充滿聖人和罪人的，短視的言論和富有遠見的語句，更何況教義神學辯論，討論和政治把戲，抱住基督的十字架都打出來了，如果沒有一個獨特的美國的故事，它是民族的歷史的重要組成部分，不再是一個，要么可以或應該被忽略。“
- 主線基督教：美國的多數信仰的過去和未來，第5頁。
One day, I hope to explore in more detail the relationship between the Christian faith, its spread, introduction (perhaps its reintroduction), and national expression. While the Church/State relationship (in terms of religious liberty, secularization etc) is important, I have come to think that it is also only a part of the story. In that regard, while there is much more that can and should be done when it comes to the American story, and of which The Mainline is a start, it is only a start and a part of the whole story that is the Christian story writ globally.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Kingdom Rock
Say hello to Truman. He was my introduction to the themed Vacation Bible School called Kingdom Rock, that my kids are taking part in at our church. It has been great to see the joy, fun, and excitement the kids have shown over this week, and to hear them sing the "stand strong for God" theme song over and over.
That being said, this isn't a post about the development of VBS in the United States, nor even the ends that churches pursue (outreach, ministry, Christian instruction) by having a VBS in their congregation. Rather, it is about something I discovered on one of the things the kids brought home: The character tags the kids are bringing home are made in China.
What struck me about this was not, per se, that it was "made in China" (I often challenge my students to find items that they bring to class that AREN'T made some place other than the United States), but rather what it might mean from a religious perspective. According to a story in the Washington Post (read it here), China is home to the world's largest concentration of atheists (around 47%). While it has been awhile since I took a probability and statistics class, you need not be an expert to realize that chances are quite good that at least some of the people producing the Kingdom Rock material, material that is teaching the essence of Christianity, are atheists. I will save the potential commentary on what it all means for another day. But it is something to ponder, not just in an international economic sense, but also for matters of faith. How does this show the global nature of Christianity? What does it mean for faith in China? What does it say about the faith in the United States? As I sit writing this on a beautiful summer day in Indiana, I am tempted to think that as the twenty-first century progresses, these kinds of questions are going to be just as important to the story of American Christianity as what individual denominations do or do not do as part of the Mainline.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
The Hart of the Matter
In the historian's world, perhaps the flagship journal is the American Historical Review. The organ of the American Historical Association , the largest professional organization for academic historian, the AHR covers just about every conceivable nook and cranny of History. As an author, it is gratifying to have your book reviewed by the AHR, because not every book is (or can be) afforded the space in the journal's precious pages. And so, I was honored, particularly because I did not have that honor for my first book, to see that The Mainline was reviewed in the June 2013 issue of the AHR (pages 881-882).
The review was written by D. G. Hart, one of the foremost historians of American evangelicalism working today. Professor Hart offers a nice summary of the book, and even says "To his credit, in a brief and episodic way, Lantzer is trying to remedy this [lack of focus on the Mainline of the Seven Sisters after the 1980s] historical oversight." I agree with him that there could have been more discussion of the Great Awakenings (something I have attempted to remedy in a previous post -- with perhaps more in the future). If I have a disagreement with his critique, however, it is that just because I talk about a new coalition constituting a new Mainline that in anyway detracts from the importance of the older Mainline. One of my goals was to save the very term "mainline" because I believe there is power in that name, and in order to save it, we have to be ready to address the fact that we cannot continue to talk about "mainline decline" forever -- because the old order of things having passed away (the Seven Sisters) has been replaced by a new group of evangelicals, Roman Catholics, and Pentecostals. And that this new Mainline is in need of study because it is both more reflective and (in many ways) more complex than the old Mainline of the Seven Sisters.
That being said, one issue that Prof. Hart did raise was a new one for me to think about and ponder, and that is the nature of denominationalism as a very American expression of Christianity and faith experience. As I reflected on it (and I hope to return to the subject in the future), though I have talked about it a bit on the blog, I was struck by the fact that I had never really stopped to think about who Christianity (and the Mainline itself) has been, and will most assuredly be, influenced by how American Christians organize themselves. Of course, my goal in the book was not to talk about denominations (and their inner workings) per se; but rather what those denominations have done. That being said, the denominations offer a wealth of information and insight in their own right that historians have hardly scratched the surface of -- not to mention opening the discussion further on what the trend towards non-denominationalism means for American Christianity. It also offers up the opportunity to really start pondering how the Christian faith is (and is not) different in the United States versus other places around the globe (something I wrote about last week when it comes to State Churches).
So, like all good reviews that offer a critique, this one got me thinking. Not only about what I have written but also about things that need more study and attention. As a professional historian then, the review in the AHR has become not just an honor, but a call for more work.
The review was written by D. G. Hart, one of the foremost historians of American evangelicalism working today. Professor Hart offers a nice summary of the book, and even says "To his credit, in a brief and episodic way, Lantzer is trying to remedy this [lack of focus on the Mainline of the Seven Sisters after the 1980s] historical oversight." I agree with him that there could have been more discussion of the Great Awakenings (something I have attempted to remedy in a previous post -- with perhaps more in the future). If I have a disagreement with his critique, however, it is that just because I talk about a new coalition constituting a new Mainline that in anyway detracts from the importance of the older Mainline. One of my goals was to save the very term "mainline" because I believe there is power in that name, and in order to save it, we have to be ready to address the fact that we cannot continue to talk about "mainline decline" forever -- because the old order of things having passed away (the Seven Sisters) has been replaced by a new group of evangelicals, Roman Catholics, and Pentecostals. And that this new Mainline is in need of study because it is both more reflective and (in many ways) more complex than the old Mainline of the Seven Sisters.
That being said, one issue that Prof. Hart did raise was a new one for me to think about and ponder, and that is the nature of denominationalism as a very American expression of Christianity and faith experience. As I reflected on it (and I hope to return to the subject in the future), though I have talked about it a bit on the blog, I was struck by the fact that I had never really stopped to think about who Christianity (and the Mainline itself) has been, and will most assuredly be, influenced by how American Christians organize themselves. Of course, my goal in the book was not to talk about denominations (and their inner workings) per se; but rather what those denominations have done. That being said, the denominations offer a wealth of information and insight in their own right that historians have hardly scratched the surface of -- not to mention opening the discussion further on what the trend towards non-denominationalism means for American Christianity. It also offers up the opportunity to really start pondering how the Christian faith is (and is not) different in the United States versus other places around the globe (something I wrote about last week when it comes to State Churches).
So, like all good reviews that offer a critique, this one got me thinking. Not only about what I have written but also about things that need more study and attention. As a professional historian then, the review in the AHR has become not just an honor, but a call for more work.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
State and Church
It was in a political science class at Indiana University where I first read St. Augustine. Now, I knew who he was before I went to college, but I had never read him. The book for that course was his City of God (before I graduated I had also read his Confessions) and as I recall the point of our reading it was to outline the notion of a separation of Church (heavenly city) and State (earthly city) in terms of functions and interactions (the point that St. Augustine was making in the opening chapters of the book amounted to a defense of Christianity against pagan charges that it was the abandonment of the traditional Roman gods that had led to the sack of Rome itself) and what that meant both to a Roman world teetering on the brink of collapse and to later Western political thinkers.
I have been thinking about St. Augustine's two cities of late because I have been thinking about State Churches. It is something that is foreign to those of us living in the United States. During America's colonial phase (and in the years after the Revolution) when there were "established" churches (think of Puritan Massachusetts or Anglican Virginia), no sooner had there been such an establishment it seems than there were dissenters and competition from other denominations on the scene as well. While I talk about this in The Mainline, there is a part of me that wonders if, as Americans, we make more out of disestablishment than perhaps we should. While it truly impacted those denominations that were established, there were other factors at play that both promoted religious liberty and made disestablishment likely, even without say the intervention of Thomas Jefferson. Maybe the real story, or at least one that we should be focusing in on (and this perhaps fits into the democratization thesis) is that the United States never had an official church to begin with.
There are good reasons to ponder this development, beside the forthcoming Independence Day celebrations. The young United States was making a break with the past in multiple ways following the Revolution, creating a novus ordo seclorum. There was to be no king in America but there also was to be no state church. Both are clear breaks not only with the immediate past, but also with what virtually every state then in existence (or to whom the Founders harkened back to, including St. Augustine's Rome) knew. To have neither a king nor an official church was revolutionary, and both decisions deserve more discussion than they have gotten. And it should be noted that both decisions it seems were firmly made in the minds of that Founding generation prior to the writing and ratification (and all the debates it has prompted ever since) of the Constitution.
What has prompted me to think about the issue anew is recent discussion about the fate of Christianity in Europe (for some examples of what I've been reading you can look here and here and here). It has long been common knowledge both inside and outside the world of academia that when it comes to religious attendance amongst Christians, the percentages of Europeans in the pews is significantly lower to that of Americans on any given Sunday. There have also been arguments made that with the influx of Muslim immigrants into Europe (coupled with higher immigrant birthrates) that Europe has a religious demographic issue looming on its horizon (which has caused worry in some circles, comparisons in others, and shoulder shrugs amongst many as well). I'll not wade into those waters today, but I do wonder what these factors mean for the future of State Churches.
When I spoke in Boston last October, one of the questions that I was asked by a member of the United Church of Christ, was if what was happening in Europe was going to happen here. I noted in my response that the history State Churches (here and there) was important to how the history of religion has unfolded in both places. But as I think about it more, I begin to wonder not only what it meant to Americans at the founding to reject the notion of even attempting to have a national church (and if we make more than we should out of the debates over religious liberty at the state level on that national decision -- are we projecting in other words), but also what it would mean for Europeans today in places like Germany or England or Russia if disestablishment were to occur. What would the public reaction be to "end" of the Church of England (assuming such a thing were to happen)? What would become of those grand cathedrals (which in some locations are more tourist attraction than houses of worship)? What of the smaller parishes? It is one thing to see such a tradition rejected (as in the case of the young United States), another to have it dwindle (as has been happening in much of Europe), and another thing entirely for it to be taken away all together.
Of course, some might say that now is the time for missionary activity in Europe (and American and African Christians are attempting that right now), and that there is always hope for a revival of the faith. There is also something to be said for that question that was asked of me in Boston, but perhaps not in the way that I first answered it. Are there parallels (or at least comparisons) that might be drawn between the State Churches of Europe and the Mainline decline of the Seven Sisters of American Protestantism? And that is a question that may be worth some investigation by scholars. In the meantime, perhaps we'd also do well to remember that when St. Augustine first postulated his notion of two cities, the Christian Europe of the Roman world was about to come to an end. That the Church endured and prospered (both with and without the benefit of the State) after the initial shock what we might call "the barbarian disestablishment" is something to remember as well.
I have been thinking about St. Augustine's two cities of late because I have been thinking about State Churches. It is something that is foreign to those of us living in the United States. During America's colonial phase (and in the years after the Revolution) when there were "established" churches (think of Puritan Massachusetts or Anglican Virginia), no sooner had there been such an establishment it seems than there were dissenters and competition from other denominations on the scene as well. While I talk about this in The Mainline, there is a part of me that wonders if, as Americans, we make more out of disestablishment than perhaps we should. While it truly impacted those denominations that were established, there were other factors at play that both promoted religious liberty and made disestablishment likely, even without say the intervention of Thomas Jefferson. Maybe the real story, or at least one that we should be focusing in on (and this perhaps fits into the democratization thesis) is that the United States never had an official church to begin with.
There are good reasons to ponder this development, beside the forthcoming Independence Day celebrations. The young United States was making a break with the past in multiple ways following the Revolution, creating a novus ordo seclorum. There was to be no king in America but there also was to be no state church. Both are clear breaks not only with the immediate past, but also with what virtually every state then in existence (or to whom the Founders harkened back to, including St. Augustine's Rome) knew. To have neither a king nor an official church was revolutionary, and both decisions deserve more discussion than they have gotten. And it should be noted that both decisions it seems were firmly made in the minds of that Founding generation prior to the writing and ratification (and all the debates it has prompted ever since) of the Constitution.
What has prompted me to think about the issue anew is recent discussion about the fate of Christianity in Europe (for some examples of what I've been reading you can look here and here and here). It has long been common knowledge both inside and outside the world of academia that when it comes to religious attendance amongst Christians, the percentages of Europeans in the pews is significantly lower to that of Americans on any given Sunday. There have also been arguments made that with the influx of Muslim immigrants into Europe (coupled with higher immigrant birthrates) that Europe has a religious demographic issue looming on its horizon (which has caused worry in some circles, comparisons in others, and shoulder shrugs amongst many as well). I'll not wade into those waters today, but I do wonder what these factors mean for the future of State Churches.
When I spoke in Boston last October, one of the questions that I was asked by a member of the United Church of Christ, was if what was happening in Europe was going to happen here. I noted in my response that the history State Churches (here and there) was important to how the history of religion has unfolded in both places. But as I think about it more, I begin to wonder not only what it meant to Americans at the founding to reject the notion of even attempting to have a national church (and if we make more than we should out of the debates over religious liberty at the state level on that national decision -- are we projecting in other words), but also what it would mean for Europeans today in places like Germany or England or Russia if disestablishment were to occur. What would the public reaction be to "end" of the Church of England (assuming such a thing were to happen)? What would become of those grand cathedrals (which in some locations are more tourist attraction than houses of worship)? What of the smaller parishes? It is one thing to see such a tradition rejected (as in the case of the young United States), another to have it dwindle (as has been happening in much of Europe), and another thing entirely for it to be taken away all together.
Of course, some might say that now is the time for missionary activity in Europe (and American and African Christians are attempting that right now), and that there is always hope for a revival of the faith. There is also something to be said for that question that was asked of me in Boston, but perhaps not in the way that I first answered it. Are there parallels (or at least comparisons) that might be drawn between the State Churches of Europe and the Mainline decline of the Seven Sisters of American Protestantism? And that is a question that may be worth some investigation by scholars. In the meantime, perhaps we'd also do well to remember that when St. Augustine first postulated his notion of two cities, the Christian Europe of the Roman world was about to come to an end. That the Church endured and prospered (both with and without the benefit of the State) after the initial shock what we might call "the barbarian disestablishment" is something to remember as well.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Head and Heart
One of the fun things about teaching is that oftentimes, students raise questions that I as a professor have not really thought about before. If you've read some of my earlier posts, you know that The Mainline was largely shaped in the classroom, so there should be little surprise that I've surely been influenced by this trend professionally. That being said there is one question that has been raised several times by students over the past few years that I have a hard time figuring out, and since writing sometimes leads to answers, I thought I'd devote today's post to the issue, if not the answer.
Here is the basic outline. While teaching the first half of the US Survey (roughly discovery/colonization through the Civil War/Reconstruction), I always make sure to spend time talking about the First and Second Great Awakenings. Though there is debate over exact dates (as an aside, it is a pet peeve of mine how often historians get labeled as purveyors of dates, since History is rarely planned out and even when it is, its not as if things "just happen" on a given date or end a certain time), generally the First Great Awakening ran from the 1710s into the 1740s (give or take), and the Second Great Awakening ran from the 1790s into the 1830s (again, give or take). The FGA was trans-Atlantic in scope, and was marked by the preaching of such divines as Jonathon Edwards, George Whitefield, and the Wesley brothers. The SGA was more American in focus, and showcased the preaching talents of the Beechers, Charles Finney, Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell. The FGA is often construed as having saved orthodoxy from the clutches of Deism and reinvigorated a sense of "the Protestant Interest" (to borrow from Thomas Kidd's excellent work on the topic). For American Historians, the FGA also is a precursor event to the American Revolution (at least in some circles). The SGA, while starting off as a religious revival (geared towards making sure that churches got planted in the newly opened Western states) eventually morphed into a movement that was also (at least in the Northeast and much of the Midwest) interested in reforming society (including, of course, anti-slavery).
So far, so good. But then the questions start. Consistently I have students who "embrace" or "support" the FGA (how can you not like Edwards' Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God?). But just as consistently, I have students who berate the very idea of the SGA. Many of those who take on the SGA cite its calls for Christian activism in the public sphere, or with specific reforms that became a part of it. But probably the most persistent critique is that the SGA appealed not to the "head" but only to the "heart". That its emotional appeals led to "shallow" conversions, which contributed to later problems in American Christianity.
I admit that the first time this happened in a classroom, I was sort of taken aback. It was certainly new to me. I generally point out that the same type of critiques were and could be leveled at the FGA (again, take a look at Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God -- it is pretty scary stuff to think that God's grace is the only thing keeping you from falling into hell, and maybe you should get right with Him before he removes His grace!). I've also had to counter claims that "nothing like this (ie appeals to emotion) ever happened in the Bible" -- by asking those interested to take a look at Acts Chapter 2 and try not to hear the emotional appeal in it.
When we dig a bit deeper the "head vs. heart" debate eventually gets us into discussion about theology. Now, I'm not a theologian (and I don't think I've yet had one as a student), but the gist of this animosity towards the SGA in some circles is the belief that it was the start of liberal theology within American Protestantism. There maybe some truth to that, but I'd also argue that it isn't the whole truth. Saying that someone like Henry Ward Beecher (whose theology eventually diverged quite a bit from that of his father Lyman -- and both men were standard bearers for the SGA) would be comfortably classified as a liberal today is problematic for several reasons. Did the SGA get everything "right" (whether theologically or in the manner of reform)? No. But then again, I'd argue that most of the people (including one favorite target for some modern theological conservatives, Charles Finney) weren't attempting to forge a coherent theology at all. For some, but only some (like Washington Gladden) that came later.
In the end (for me at least) talking about the FGA/SGA has prompted some interesting discussions, which I enjoy. They've made me question assumptions I've had about these events, as well as raise questions for me about how we (including my students) understand them. Oftentimes, it seems "we know what we know because we know it," my hope is that with some study and reflection we can see that both the FGA and SGA utilized a sort of balanced witness of the Christian faith, of both "head and heart", that it wasn't an "either/or" kind of thing. If that makes for a more complicated history, so be it. Because it is also probably more accurate.
Here is the basic outline. While teaching the first half of the US Survey (roughly discovery/colonization through the Civil War/Reconstruction), I always make sure to spend time talking about the First and Second Great Awakenings. Though there is debate over exact dates (as an aside, it is a pet peeve of mine how often historians get labeled as purveyors of dates, since History is rarely planned out and even when it is, its not as if things "just happen" on a given date or end a certain time), generally the First Great Awakening ran from the 1710s into the 1740s (give or take), and the Second Great Awakening ran from the 1790s into the 1830s (again, give or take). The FGA was trans-Atlantic in scope, and was marked by the preaching of such divines as Jonathon Edwards, George Whitefield, and the Wesley brothers. The SGA was more American in focus, and showcased the preaching talents of the Beechers, Charles Finney, Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell. The FGA is often construed as having saved orthodoxy from the clutches of Deism and reinvigorated a sense of "the Protestant Interest" (to borrow from Thomas Kidd's excellent work on the topic). For American Historians, the FGA also is a precursor event to the American Revolution (at least in some circles). The SGA, while starting off as a religious revival (geared towards making sure that churches got planted in the newly opened Western states) eventually morphed into a movement that was also (at least in the Northeast and much of the Midwest) interested in reforming society (including, of course, anti-slavery).
So far, so good. But then the questions start. Consistently I have students who "embrace" or "support" the FGA (how can you not like Edwards' Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God?). But just as consistently, I have students who berate the very idea of the SGA. Many of those who take on the SGA cite its calls for Christian activism in the public sphere, or with specific reforms that became a part of it. But probably the most persistent critique is that the SGA appealed not to the "head" but only to the "heart". That its emotional appeals led to "shallow" conversions, which contributed to later problems in American Christianity.
I admit that the first time this happened in a classroom, I was sort of taken aback. It was certainly new to me. I generally point out that the same type of critiques were and could be leveled at the FGA (again, take a look at Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God -- it is pretty scary stuff to think that God's grace is the only thing keeping you from falling into hell, and maybe you should get right with Him before he removes His grace!). I've also had to counter claims that "nothing like this (ie appeals to emotion) ever happened in the Bible" -- by asking those interested to take a look at Acts Chapter 2 and try not to hear the emotional appeal in it.
When we dig a bit deeper the "head vs. heart" debate eventually gets us into discussion about theology. Now, I'm not a theologian (and I don't think I've yet had one as a student), but the gist of this animosity towards the SGA in some circles is the belief that it was the start of liberal theology within American Protestantism. There maybe some truth to that, but I'd also argue that it isn't the whole truth. Saying that someone like Henry Ward Beecher (whose theology eventually diverged quite a bit from that of his father Lyman -- and both men were standard bearers for the SGA) would be comfortably classified as a liberal today is problematic for several reasons. Did the SGA get everything "right" (whether theologically or in the manner of reform)? No. But then again, I'd argue that most of the people (including one favorite target for some modern theological conservatives, Charles Finney) weren't attempting to forge a coherent theology at all. For some, but only some (like Washington Gladden) that came later.
In the end (for me at least) talking about the FGA/SGA has prompted some interesting discussions, which I enjoy. They've made me question assumptions I've had about these events, as well as raise questions for me about how we (including my students) understand them. Oftentimes, it seems "we know what we know because we know it," my hope is that with some study and reflection we can see that both the FGA and SGA utilized a sort of balanced witness of the Christian faith, of both "head and heart", that it wasn't an "either/or" kind of thing. If that makes for a more complicated history, so be it. Because it is also probably more accurate.
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