by Martin Green
Military victory having been achieved by the Continental Army to secure our fledgling nation’s independence from Great Britain, it was now time to hammer out the particulars of the political architecture by which the new republic would henceforth be governed. One might be tempted to think that an indissoluble bond of amity between our founding fathers, forged in the furnace of heroic struggle and bloody battles, would have easily prevailed in the drafting of the Articles of Confederation and our Constitution.
Not so much.
Picture yourself in a closed room for weeks on end with fifty-five delegates from the thirteen states, the windows shuttered, and drapes drawn for secrecy. In your wool suit, feel the sweltering temperatures and miserably oppressive humidity of a Philadelphia summer exacerbating the already fiercely heated debate occurring inside Independence Hall. Such was the scene at the Constitutional Convention held from May through September in 1787.
The process became a protracted contest of wills pulling violently on the unprecedented form of self-government, threatening to tear it apart even as it had scarcely commenced.
As implacably as many of the participants had begun, however, the emergence of a republic from this convention would necessitate compromises on several fundamental issues — such as the proportional representation of states — leading ultimately to consensus and such a degree of concord that it was widely hailed as miraculous.
What precipitated the remarkable turning point?
During the early weeks of the convention, the venerated, wise elder statesman, Benjamin Franklin, had been quietly observant. But with the delegates at an impasse, a pivotal moment came as Franklin was moved to address the convention:
“…In this situation of this Assembly, groping as it were in the dark to find political truth, and scarce able to distinguish it when presented to us, how has it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of lights to illuminate our understandings? In the beginning of the Contest with Great Britain, when we were sensible of danger we had daily prayer in this room for the divine protection. Our prayers, Sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All of us who were engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances of a Superintending providence in our favor. To that kind providence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful friend?
“I have lived, Sir, a long time, and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth — that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid? We have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings that “except the Lord build the House they labor in vain that build it.” I firmly believe this; and I also believe that without [H]is concurring aid we shall succeed in this political building no better than the Builders of Babel: We shall be divided by our little partial local interests; our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall be become a reproach and a bye word down to future age. And what is worse, mankind may hereafter from this unfortunate instance, despair of establishing Governments by Human Wisdom, and leave it to chance, war, and conquest.
“…I therefore beg leave to move, that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessings on our deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning before we proceed to business…”
Franklin’s speech served as a sobering reminder to the delegates of the futility of their proceeding further without imploring God for his intervention. His appeal to heaven eventually opened a door through which swept a refreshing breeze of compromise and cooperation, dramatically shifting the atmosphere of the convention. Even the stifling summer heat and humidity soon abated, cooling choleric tempers.
The biblical thoughts and words which informed Franklin’s speech simply cannot be understood outside the context of the Great Awakening of the 1730s and 1740s, ignited by evangelist George Whitefield (pronounced Whit-field). Often preaching four times a day, Whitefield traveled countless thousands of miles on horseback throughout all thirteen colonies and was so prolific and indefatigable, preaching around eighteen thousand sermons — most of those being extemporaneous in front of crowds as large as thirty thousand — it is estimated that an astounding eighty percent of the colonists heard him preach at least once. His remarkable effectiveness and widespread influence were because the gospel of Jesus Christ he preached was so vibrantly relational and transformational. Instead of being merely transactional or liturgical, the thundering power of his message completely upended the complacency and dead religious formalism into which the colonies had devolved.
The Great Awakening radically transformed the spiritual, civic and cultural landscape of colonial America. At its core was the fundamental truth from which we derive the Judeo-Christian principles of intrinsic human value and dignity, equality, ordered liberty, and personal responsibility: “So God created human beings in His own image. In the image of God He created them; male and female He created them.”
The rugged Christian faith of the heroic founders was vitally interwoven with their patriotism and is inextricably linked by a sacred thread of purpose to the Great Awakening. It impelled their extraordinary courage and provided the moral impetus for our Constitution, the Revolution, and the Declaration of Independence for which they had pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.