The New Religious Establishment
By Blair Brown
© 2006 by Blair Brown
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The Constitution’s First Amendment guarantees a number of freedoms: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
Do you value the First Amendment as the hallmark of free thought in a republican government? When we examine this Amendment, it becomes clear that it emancipates both thought and conscience by restraining government—this restraint prohibits the state from taking actions that handicap liberty. The Amendment grants unregulated thought and conscience the widest possible scope that is consistent with our collective welfare. This ushered in an era of liberal republicanism that many Americans rightly treasure.
Of the various rights this Amendments grants, religious freedom is vital to our discussion. Religion is important because of its effect on thought. All thought springs from some root—men often understand this root poorly or misuse it, but the root remains. Unlike our current age, religion molded many of the ideas and judgments of past Western generations. Its intellectual influence was fading at the time of the American Revolution, but it retained a lively enough character that it shaped the United States Constitution.[2] Because of religion’s profound influence on conscience and thought in that day, religious freedom meant liberty of conscience.[3]
Another important right the Amendment grants is freedom of speech and of the press. These rights prevent the government from gaining immoderate control over the channels of communication and instruction. Unencumbered thought totters without a reasonable capacity to teach truth and convey facts; tyrants often crush the rights of the press and speech in their passion for absolute rule. From a free press a free people emerges. Within reason, free publication and speech allow men to either uphold or protest the standing governmental or social order. These freedoms frustrate a ruler’s natural passion for maintaining his position by using force or more subtle devices. Without an effective hold over communication, those in control must vindicate their ideas using the same resources available to those outside the boundaries of power; that is, by persuasion.
The other rights granted by the First Amendment continue this theme—free assembly furthers unrestricted dialogue, allowing individuals to pursue common goals. The unimpeded right to solicit government prevents the cloaking of injustices. This Amendment gives us the gift of free thought and conscience. The freedom of conscience is central to the First Amendment’s purpose; when it ceases to realize this design, it is meaningless.
More importantly, this Amendment
tempers a republican government—it is vital to a just democracy. In the
Nevertheless, this and other Amendments granted liberty, not license—it did not open the door to any and all speech, assembly, etc. It acknowledged that these freedoms must exist in harmony with the community as a whole. Government must obstruct any use of freedom that poses an inordinate threat to that harmony. By way of illustration, these Amendments empower the government to curb speech that incites riot or insurrection, degrades morals, or, slanders any person. Today, we suppress libel, incitement to riot, and child pornography—we also suspend many freedoms in time of war. The First Amendment’s liberties achieve a balance, giving thought and conscience reasonable leeway while protecting the community from intemperance.
Regarding religion, the Amendment
largely acknowledged the vibrant religious freedom that existed in Colonial
America. A handful of the colonies sought to establish state churches, yet
dissent littered the religious landscape.
Despite the individualistic character of their arguments, these Rationalists did briefly conceded to our collective character. They argued that these liberties rested on virtue; without a moral society, these liberties would degenerate into license.[7] This argument is, however, at best a weak concession to our corporate character—it fails to grapple adequately with our dependence on society. For example, our culture conveys beliefs and ideas from generation to generation; none of us discovers truth by himself. We do not emerge from the womb with these ideas, nor with the capacity for acquiring them independently—we rely on culture for most beliefs and ideas. Our ideas are thus not an exclusive property, intrinsic to us individually—our Creator endows us with a capacity to acquire these ideas in a corporate setting. We cannot function without this social setting. The Enlightenment neglected the vital nature of our corporate character, which is a dangerous flaw. A man without society is not a man, but a brute. Ironically, Enlightenment Rationalists decried individualism as a detriment to good society.
This Enlightenment thought lead to other errors. A case in point, if our individuality entitles us to believe the truth as we see fit, then the same reasoning ratifies any error we cherish—you cannot reward a God-given right one way without extending it the other way. Using their reasoning, we have a God-given right to error. However, prudent men admit that we should bear with, but not ratify error. An alternative to this Enlightenment confusion exists within Christian thought.
The ideas of the orthodox Protestant Reformation advance this alternative solution—one that integrates the nature of government with man’s innate sinfulness. Our intrinsic sinfulness wracks government. Government perpetrates oppression, corruption, and similar abuses, because man is sinful—our vices are government’s vices. However, government safeguards us from these same vices. Without government, we descend into the anarchy of sin. Thus, we face an impasse. We cannot eliminate government’s protection, nor can we trust sinful men with unreserved power—on the one hand, life without government is precarious; on the other men willingly employ any power granted to them, oftentimes for the wrong ends. We need a middle ground. We must curb government; limit the worst of its vices, without seriously impairing the protection from sin, that government furnishes. Civil liberties answer this need. These freedoms separate certain powers that exist within society, and through this partition retard government’s natural tendency towards corruption. Two powers exist within any culture: temporal power or the authority over its members’ bodies; and spiritual power or the control of the mind, emotions, and will. Societies grant government extensive temporal powers so that government will catch and punish criminals. But by mistakenly adding control over the spiritual to the government’s power, we allow the government to coerce the conscience. This can happen in any form of government. A despot obliges his subjects to believe as he does through the power of the state; a majority in a republic does the same towards the minority. The type of government affects repression less than the separation of the society’s temporal powers from its spiritual authority. Freedom of thought bars the government from the spiritual realm, effecting a necessary separation. By eliminating government’s coercive powers in the spiritual realm, the state must employ persuasion to win men to their side. The freedoms of religion, speech, and others furnish a vehicle for accomplishing this end. In a republic, freedom of thought impedes government’s ability to bolster itself without the citizen’s consent—giving power over both the mind and body guarantees that a republican government will swell to oppressive size. Even Enlightenment Rationalists agree with Reformed thought on this point: government must not control both body and soul. But from an orthodox Reformed perspective, these rights are granted to the individual for the benefit of the community, establishing a logical link between our individual and corporate identity. The suppression of government’s natural vices profits us individually and communally—the community gives these shared rights to the individual for the protection of the individual and the community. Thus the social and individual characters of man unite.
This orthodox Reformed approach to the problem establishes a reasonable vehicle for legitimate protest of governmental abuse. The Bible insists on justice and equity in government. Our freedoms do not guarantee this, but they do afford a means of demanding such an outcome. Our Bill of Rights authorizes men to consider and object to governmental policy and social movements—to protest the will of the majority. These freedoms restrain our natural inclination towards republican absolutism by allowing minority protest. The deeds of the majority must stand before the scrutiny of open debate, the archenemy of injustice. From a Reformed perspective, these liberties buoy the cause of equity and justice.
Looking back to our initial question,
does
1. God is amorphous or nonexistent—for Americans, God reposes above the creation exercising an altruistic and amiable influence. Beyond this, there is little unanimity; the demands of pluralism scour any potentially offensive traits from God. We revere this “unbiased” view of God—it has become the sum and substance of most Americans’ God. Only a minority enjoys a well-developed concept of God. Americans also display scant interest in the character and nature of God. Even conservative Christians betray an indifference towards God’s attributes. In the final analysis, this nebulous idea defines God. This “unbiased” view unwittingly engages in a vital religious activity—religion interprets God for its adherents.
2. We venerate shared religious principles, while snubbing any distinct idea held by a particular religious creed. This controls the form and content of public discussions to the detriment of particular religious creeds. Typically, the culture relegates divergent opinions to the backwaters of society, or punishes them through social ostracism. Currently, Evangelicals / Conservatives and Postmodern Liberals dominate the American debate. Not many people realize that Reformed Christianity takes serious issue with both groups; few, if any, of its objections rise to the surface.
3. Democracy is the greatest social good—healthy societies devote themselves to majority rule in both the political and social realm. The thought that other forms of government could be favored seems absurd to us. It pulls us with such strength that we ignore realities that could undermine our faith in democracy. For instance, the Balkans suffered less under Communist dictatorship than under self-rule. Why? Dictatorial rule averted the age-old tribal strife, which has plagued the inhabitants of the region since they secured their independence. Such a thought is unacceptable to most Americans—in their mind, self-rule and democracy are always superior. We believe that democracy, despite its faults, is the culmination and apex of cultural and social evolution. This often lead to a smug self-assurance that the remainder of the world finds so offensive.
4. Happiness is the chief end of man: This is the corollary our celebrated individualism. It accounts for our insatiable thirst for and fascination with money, sensuality, power, notoriety, and self-aggrandizement, and our tendency to ignore our communal duties in favor of self. Americans lavish inordinate resources on their search for happiness. We divorce readily without considering the consequences to our children; we lavish copious material goods and services on ourselves. “Me” and my happiness dominate the thrust of our lives.
5. The here and now eclipses the hereafter in our minds. Americans endorse the Enlightenment’s wobbly view of death: in fact, they routinely ignore it. Death arrives at every doorstep, but few of us extend any serious consideration to the subject. Death defines us as much as birth; we entered with nothing; we depart empty-handed. However, it scarcely registers in our reflections or aspirations.
6. We favor unaided reason as impartial, especially when weighed against judgments derived from religious creeds. We regard the supposed narrow-mindedness of strict religious doctrine as detrimental to sound judgment. We relegate religion to the emotional and experiential realms. Even with the emergence of the current Evangelical coalition, most of the contributions to the debate center on morality; the underlying reasoning behind Christianity rarely rises to the surface.
7. Man is essentially good and corrupted by external influences. The corruption besetting us originates in the social order, which twists our true goodness to evil ends. Our psychological, sociological, and economic models defer to this belief—we inculcate this sentiment in our children from the earliest age. On occasion, we may admit that a few men revel in evil; we resort to this only when other explanations fail. It colors little, if any, of our core understanding of man.
8. We welcome the modern and experimental over older and established practice. A case in point, we hurry along immoderate social change without patiently considering the fallout. We live in a society bent on sexual liberation—we scarcely weigh the consequences on family formation, social stability, child rearing, etc.
The above propositions move each of us differently. Some abide by most of these notions, and others confess them in part while combining them with contradictory ideas. A few reject most of the above. Overall, they govern most American thought, ideas, and prejudices. Frankly, these ideas are acceptable under our frame of government. Notwithstanding, sanctioning these ideas is not the same as ratifying and implanting them through the state’s coercive powers. Free speech and press grant many beliefs a place within the national discussion, but the perpetuation of that idea must rely on persuasive skill—not on the use of coercive powers. Any effort to perpetuate these ideas using the power of government, either directly or indirectly, undermines freedom of conscience. As we shall see, the problem with the aforementioned notions springs from the circuitous use of state power to uphold a belief with tangible religious ramifications.
Contrary to popular belief, these ideas do possess a religious character—religion interprets God, man’s nature and union with God, our life circumstances, etc. The previously discussed items touching on the character of God, happiness, the here and now versus the hereafter, unaided against aided reason, and man’s nature (1, 4, 5, 6, and 7) intrude into clearly defined religious territory. Others indirectly impinge on theology. By diminishing God, we negate His centrality in creation; that He is the source of all being and purpose. By exalting happiness through self-esteem, we advance certain beliefs relating to the nature of man—a sense of self-worth pervades a good man, while self-loathing overwhelms a sinner. These propositions touch on religion.
Many argue that these beliefs are impartial, free from religious bias. Reality contradicts this. By intruding into these intellectual quarters, we embrace religious precepts by default. We cannot avoid this implication by multiplying words or alleging impartiality—the nature of these intellectual provinces require us to take particular stands on religious questions. No alternative exists. One of the most unfortunate legacies of early Enlightenment thought is the presumption that it stood above the religious fray, that it was an unbiased judge—this belief influences us to this day.
Now we come to compulsory public
education. The
Public education links directly with our democratic institutions; the educational bureaucracy serves at the pleasure of elected and appointed officials, who acquire their power directly through elections, or indirectly through their appointment by democratically elected officials. Ultimately, public education, as with all governing institutions, accedes to the majority will—bureaucracies and elected officials may toy with matters contrary to public desire, but in the final showdown, they either acquiesce to majority wishes or are swept from power. This is the essence of a democratic republic.
The problem arises because the American cultural understandings described above mold the American mind and, ultimately, the majority will. They form the basis for our governing coalitions; those coalitions, in the end, establish school curriculum through the democratic process. Thus, these ideas forge the pedagogical bedrock of compulsory public education. As we have seen, these ideas have religious ramifications—so by default the state inculcates ideas that tread in the religious sphere, while coercing citizens into state-sponsored schools. Have we indirectly established a religion in this country? Once again, we have ideas with religious implications, taught in state-sponsored schools, where the state compels attendance. This bears the eerie mark of a religious establishment. Some may dispute this argument by distinguishing between an actual religion and public schooling, ignoring the religious implications of public school instruction. In the end, education can never truly elude the religious arena.
This problem strikes at the heart of our American ideals. The First Amendment bars any establishment of religion; we have heeded the form of this prohibition, while neglecting its substance. The First Amendment checks government. It excludes it from commanding conscience—any state forcing ideas and beliefs descends into unjust absolutism. Our freedoms of religion, speech, press, and association strip government of the power to exact intellectual obedience and enjoin ideas and beliefs—we circumscribe government’s power in order to free our citizens’ consciences. Does the state serve liberty by compelling children into a state-controlled educational establishment that teaches ideas offensive to the conscience of a minority? Some point to the provision made for private or homeschooling—they disregard that some families eke out an existence and can ill afford such luxuries. They also ignore that the state injures this minority in its indifference towards their conscience. These families must combat ideas they consider contrary to conscience using their slender resources; they must fight a system larger and more powerful than themselves. Families who can afford these alternatives retain conscience at a price, one that others do not bear. Is this liberty? Is this justice?
The Framers designed our government so that the majority would enjoy a limited power—they scorned an unfettered majority as nothing more than majoritarianism or mobocracy, a sure recipe for republican absolutism. A limitless republican government could force its will upon a dissident minority as readily as any autocrat, and so the Framers regarded unrestrained majorities as a threat to good government. The majority decides public school policy based on their collective will. But that collective will must not extend to compelling others to adhere to the dictates of the majority conscience—this is hostile to liberty and freedom. This essay has demonstrated that compulsory public schooling is such a system.
Oddly, and perhaps not so oddly, this compulsion of conscience has flourished for nearly two centuries. Oddly, considering that we blinded ourselves to a plain contradiction; not so oddly, inasmuch as the Second Great Awakening swept away the Reformation’s high view of sin. A high view of sin quickly and easily discerns the hypocrisy of man. For instance, this high view offers us the key to grasping the puzzling balance between empowering and restraining government. Interestingly, our current plight confirms the Reformations’ high view of sin—only sin accounts for our collective blindness to such an obvious disparity. A Reformed view of sin knows that you can fool all of the people all of the time.
[1] “The denials and defiances of Enlightenment skeptics and materialists are denials and defiances of religious doctrine, usually religious in their own intent”, Henry F. May, The Enlightenment in America, (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1976), xiv
[2] The Framers retained a serious mistrust of anyone holding the reins of government including a majority in a replublic—Madison’s, Notes of Debate in The Federal Convention of 1787, testifies to their leeriness towards awarding anyone unchecked governmental power. This leaning flowed more from Puritan thought than the Enlightenment.
[3] For a discussion of religious freedom see Winthrop S. Hudson, Religion in America, 3rd Ed. (New York, Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1981) 99-106.
[4] For a history of Colonial religious history, see Hudson, Religion in America, 23-32
[5] James
Madison, Memorial and Remonstrance
Against Religious Assessments, 1785, and Will Durant,
The Story of Philosophy (New York,
Simon and Schuster, 1926), 211 ff
[6] John Locke, Treatise of Civil Government and Letter Concerning Toleration, ed. Charles L. Sherman (New York, Irvington Publishers, Inc., 1965), 34-50
[7] Sidney E. Mead, The Lively Experiment (New York, Harper & Row, 1963), 62
[8] This is not a new problem. Sidney Mead wrote about it over forty years ago and noted that others expressed concern during the nineteenth century. See the observations made by Sidney E. Mead, The Lively Experiment, 66-71.