"Liberty and Virtue are Twin Sisters": Southern Presbyterians and Theology of the State, 1850-1890

Perhaps it was prescience in 1849 that led Benjamin M. Palmer to caution against a particular view of the state, which (along with Gladstone and Thomas Arnold) permitted the state to target, "the more general end of promoting, by all methods, the moral and intellectual improvement of men."[1] He continued to denounce the view that the civil government should have as its object "the moral and intellectual improvement of mankind, in order to their reaching their greatest perfection, and enjoying their highest happiness."[2] Specifically, Palmer had in mind the Erastian coupling (expounded by Arnold) of church and state: "Thus the State, having been enlightened by the knowledge of the Church, becomes a society seeking the same end which the Church sought. And this was my meaning, when I said that in a country where the nation and government are avowedly and essentially Christian, the State or nation was virtually the Church."[3] However, his comments equally apply to maximalist states a century later. It is not only the danger of Erastianism that was exposed, but also an improper expansion of the state to assume the roles of moral, cultural, or intellectual improvement.

The more appropriate relation, according to Palmer, was that, "the State and the Church are originally both independent and sovereign societies; having different ends in view, and hence not clashing, although the same persons may be under the jurisdiction of both. The office of the State is to provide for the temporal interests of man; that of the Church, for his eternal interests, the care of the one is confined to the body; that of the other is directed to the soul, the one looks upon offenses as crimes; the other takes cognizance of them as vices and as sins."[4]

Prior to the Civil War, Palmer and others were troubled over the new political winds blowing in the country. They saw certain views of the state, not only as a threat to the institution of slavery, but also as inherently dangerous and theologically unsound. One of the chief demons of the time was the French Revolution, which Palmer and others contrasted with the American Revolution: the "statesmen of 1776 were no visionary constitution mongers, like those who are now attempting to fit capricious France to a political costume."[5] Similarly, William Archer Cocke observed:

Many wise and good men hailed the French Revolution of 1789 as shadowing forth an event productive of extensive benefit. Who now will deny that the leaders of this revolution committed every species of crime, from the absence of something higher than political principles to control their action? Why is this dark side of the historic page so frightfully true? Statesmen, who should be moral philosophers, with that wisdom which is graced by every Christian virtue, can well direct their investigations to the answer of this question, and can determine also what the government has to do with the destruction of a people's nationality? We know why Israel fell; why Greece, and Rome; and what induced the dark ages. Would not the proper development of the religious principle have averted the world-wide wars? Would not nations under the influence of this principle, like the sculptured marble beneath a dry and pure atmosphere . . . harden and endure through countless ages? This last question has never been answered by the history of the past.[6]

Southern Presbyterians anticipated the expansion of the state into many areas of life. They saw the centralization of the federal government not merely as an enemy of slavery, but moreover, as an usurper of liberty in other areas as well. The summary below seeks to highlight some of the analysis of evangelicals in the middle of the nineteenth century in America.

One of the hallmarks of this southern Presbyterian approach was the great reticence of theologians to address matters of secular politics. On one occasion, James H. Thornwell averred that in a quarter-century of preaching he had never introduced politics into the pulpit: "Questions of law and public administration I have left to the tribunals appointed to settle them, and have confined my exhortations to those great matters that pertain immediately to the kingdom of God. I have left it to Caesar to take care of his own rights, and have insisted only upon the supreme rights of the Almighty."[7] Thornwell and others believed that the commission of preachers only extended to expounding on Scripture; not expounding "to senators the Constitution of the State, nor to interpret for judges the law of the land. In the civil and political sphere the dead must bury their dead."[8] The dividing line of propriety was whether the topic addressed was a moral issue or merely political. Thornwell said: "There are cases in which the question relates to a change in the government, in which the question of duty is simply a question of revolution. In such cases the Minister has no commission from God to recommend or resist a change, unless some moral principle is immediately involved. He can explain and enforce the spirit and temper in which revolution should be contemplated and carried forward or abandoned. He can expound the doctrine of the Scriptures in relation to the nature, the grounds, the extent and limitations of civil obedience; but it is not for him, as a preacher, to say when evils are intolerable, nor to prescribe the mode and measures of redress. These points he must leave to the State itself."[9]

As an individual citizen, the Minister was certainly free to engage in political discourse and measures. However, as to his office, he was to restrict his expositions to the revealed mind of God. Thornwell delicately found the balance: "I can truly say that my great aim is not to expound our complex institutions, but to awaken the national conscience to a sense of its responsibility before God. It is not to enlighten your minds, but to touch your hearts; not to plead the cause of States' rights or Federal authority, but to bring you as penitents before the Supreme Judge."[10]

Dabney on Two Modern Political Notions: Social Contract and Rights

A century after Rousseau, Robert L. Dabney would assess that there were two competing macro-theories to explain human government: "The one traces them to a supposed social contract. . . . Men are to be at first apprehended . . . as insulated individuals, separate human integers, all naturally equal, and each by nature absolutely free, having a natural liberty to exercise his whole will."[11] Dabney seems to have Rousseau in mind as he continues: "But the experience of the exposure, inconveniences, and mutual violences of so many independent wills, led them, in time, to be willing to surrender a part of their independence, in order to secure the enjoyment of the rest of their rights. To do this, they are supposed to have conferred, and to have entered into a compact with each other, binding themselves to each other to submit to certain rules and restraints upon their natural rights . . . Subsequent citizens entering the society, by birth or immigration, are supposed to have given an assent, express or implied to this compact. . . . And the reason why men are bound to obey the legitimate commands of the magistrate is, that they have thus bargained with their fellow-citizens to obey, for the sake of mutual benefits."[12] Dabney concludes that such compact, if it ever occurred, "is only a suppositious one, a legal fiction . . . no basis for any theory, and no source for practical rights and duties."[13]

On the other hand, the other theory traces the warrant of the state to the providence of God and the created social nature of man: "It teaches that some form of social government is as original as man himself. . . . Hence, civil government is an ordinance of God . . . Obedience to [magistrates] is a religious duty, and rebellion against them is not only injustice to our fellow-men, but disobedience to God."[14] Dabney objects to the social contract theory on five distinct grounds: (1) It is a theory, and not founded on facts: "The fact is, that men never rightfully existed for one moment in the state of independent insulation, out of which they are supposed to have passed, by their own option, into a state of society. God never gave them such independency. . . . They do not choose their civic obligations, but are born under them;"[15] (2) It is atheistic, completely "ignoring man's relation to his Creator, the right of that Creator to determine under what obligations man shall live, and the great Bible fact, that God has determined he shall live under civic obligations;" (3) It is unphilosophical; (4) It is inconvenient, in that any changes thwart previous compacts; and (5) It wrongly attributes origin; no man or group can confer that which is not their possession: "The civil magistrate is armed with some powers, which could not have been created by social contract alone; because they did not belong to the contracting parties, viz., individual men cannot give, for instance, the right of life and death. No man's life belongs to him, but to God alone."[16]

Dabney was astute in recognizing that the social contract theory ascribed a liberty to men which is far different from the biblical view. It also, he says, "ignores the great fact, that man's will never was his proper law; it simply passes over, in the insane pride of human perfectionism, the great fact of original sin, by which every man's will is more or less inclined to do unrighteousness. It falsely supposes a state of nature, in which man's might makes right."[17]

Dabney's cohort, James Henley Thornwell also warned against such danger: "We have poisoned the springs of our Government. We have given to faction what is due to truth. We have dethroned reason and justice, and made our legislation a miserable scramble for the interests of sections and parties. We have deified the people, making their will, as will, and not as reasonable and right, the supreme law; and they, in turn, have deified themselves, by assuming all the attributes of government, and exercising unlimited dominion."[18]

On the contrary, Dabney argues that neither compacts nor governments give us our rights; thus neither can they diminish them. Contending for what he calls "Bible republicanism," at the same time he "discard[s] the theocratic conception of civil government."[19] A strong advocate of religious liberty, Dabney explained that heresy, dangerous as it is it should not be a criminal offense: "Everything which is moral evil, and is detrimental to the interests of society, is not, therefore, properly punishable by society. The thing must be, moreover, shown to be brought within the scope of the penalties, by the objects and purposes of government; . . . Society may not infringe directly a natural right of one of its members, to protect itself from an indirect injury which may or may not occur. It only has a right to stand on the defensive, and wait for the overt aggression. It is not the business of society to keep a man from injuring himself, but from injuring others. As to his personal interests, he is his own master."[20] He eschews the opportunity to form a theocracy with verve: "When a state can be shown, where there is but one denomination to choose, and that immediately organized by God himself just then; where there is an assurance of a succession of inspired prophets to keep this denomination on the right track; where the king who is to be at the head of this State Church is supernaturally nominated by God, and guided in his action by an oracle, the we will admit the application of the case. . . . Do not suppose that this question will never again be practical."[21] Dabney maintained:

Church and state are distinct institutions; since theocratic institutions are done away; they have distinct objects. The church is to teach men the way to heaven, and to help them thither. The state is to protect each citizen in the enjoyment of temporal rights. the church has no civil pains and penalties at command; because Christ has given her none; . . . The main weapon of the civil government is civil pains and penalties. In the state, the good of the governed being the object, the governed are the earthly sources of sovereignty. Rulers have only a delegated power, and are the agents of the community, who depute to them, for the general good, so much of power as is necessary.[22]

Dabney summarized the powers of the state as limited to regulating secular rights, equally protecting members of society, taxing, punishing for capital crimes, and waging a defensive war.[23] Dabney wrote, "The object of civil government is simply the protection of temporal rights against aggression, foreign or domestic."[24]

Dabney also mimed the reformation maxim that, "an unjust government is far better than none at all. It . . . should be obeyed by individuals, rather than have anarchy."[25] On the subject of resistance, the Chaplain to General Stonewall Jackson noted, "If the thing commanded by the civil magistrate is positively sinful, then the Christian citizen must refuse obedience, but yield submission to the penalty therefore."[26] While arguing against indefinite passive obedience to an evil form of government, he also remarked: "God has not ordained what government mankind shall live under, but only that they shall live under a government. . . . When a form of government entirely ceases, as a whole, to subserve its proper end, is it still to subsist forever? This is preposterous. . . . The meaning of the apostle is, that this resistance must be the act, not of the individual, but of the people. The insubordination which he condemns, is that which arrays against a bad government . . . the worse anarchy of the individual will."[27]

A little over a century ago, Robert L. Dabney made some salient observations in his 1888 "Anti-Biblical Theories of Rights."[28] Although his essay spends about half its space defending slavery, he was prescient at the time to identify "another hostile banner" which was already unfurled and ready to attack millions. This assault, which proceeded from "professed social science" was derived from the "atheistic French radicals" (22), and was in process of being unwittingly adopted by thousands of American Protestants. At its heart, this new anti-biblical theory of rights posited an absolute mechanical equality (23), in contrast to the earlier-held and historically orthodox moral equality.

This new radical theory asserted that "all men are born free and equal" in the beginning and logically led to the following:

That is to aver that, if we do not treat people absolutely the same (mechanical equality), then we have somehow violated their rights. Dabney lamented that this new nomenclature had so confused the issues, as well as the lack of discernment by Christians:

Sadly, many Christians did not heed these early words of warning, which so clearly foresaw the inherent contradiction between the social compact view of rights and the biblical view. As Dabney stated his goal, his sole object was "to examine the scriptural question, whether or not the integrity of the Bible can be made to consist with the Jacobin theory and its necessary corollaries" (26). Thus Dabney's warning of the "coming contest" went largely unheeded, as few entertained Dabney's question: "Will you surrender the inspiration of scriptures to these assaults of a social science-so-called?" (27)

To Dabney, this view of rights was one reason for the decline of erstwhile stalwart evangelical bodies, (39) as they "piously borrowed even from French atheism." (39) To him, it was clear that a student of Scripture should detect that "this radical theory of human rights and equality, born of atheism, but masquerading in the garb of true Biblical republicanism" (38) had numerous and definite corollaries. Despite being "passionately held by millions of nominal Christians," Dabney dared to warn of the "collision between the popular political theory, so flattering to the self-will and pride of the human heart, and so clad in the raiment of pretended philanthropy." (38) Moreover, he asserted that this anti-biblical theory of rights had "become the occasion of tens of thousands making themselves blatant infidels, and of millions becoming virtual unbelievers." (38) The right-ists, said Dabney, "Those who wish to hold both the contradictories have indeed been busy for two generations weaving veils of special pleadings and deceitful expositions of Scripture wherewith to conceal the inevitable contradiction. But these veils are continually wearing too thin to hide it, and the bolder minds rend them one after another and cast them away." (38)

Predicting that "the struggle cannot but be long and arduous," (43) Dabney gave some beginning advice for those who contend against rights-ism. His caveat was:

Since the opinions and practices hostile to the Scriptures are so protean, so subtle, and so widely diffused, there is no chance for a successful defense of the truth except in uncompromising resistance to the beginnings of error; to parley is to be defeated. The steps in the ´down-grade, progress are gentle, and slide easily one into the other, but the sure end of the descent is none the less fatal. He who yields the first step so complicates his subsequent resistance as to insure his defeat. There is but one safe position for the sacramental host: to stand on the whole Scripture, and refuse to concede a single point. (44)

A more modern writer, might call these "alternative" biblical theories. However, as Dabney put it: "Every fair mind sees that this is not only a different but an opposite social theory" (24). Thornwell also said: "There can be no rights without responsibility, and responsibility is incomplete until it terminates in a Supreme Will."[29]

Approximately two hundred years after Hobbes, Robert Dabney analyzed the thought of Hobbes as "an impious deification of the will of the mob which happens to be larger,"[30] describing:

The popular theory of man's natural rights, of the origin of governments, and of the moral obligation of allegiance, is that which traces them to a social contract. The true origin of this theory may be found with Hobbes of Malmesbury. It owes its respectability among Englishmen, chiefly to the pious John Locke, a sort of baptized image of that atheistic philosopher; and it was ardently held by the infidel democrats of the first French revolution. According to this scheme, each person is by nature an independent integer, wholly sui juris, absolutely equal to every other man, and naturally entitled, as a `Lord of Creation,' to exercise his whole will. Man's natural liberty was accordingly defined as privilege to do whatever he wished.[31]

Moreover, Dabney argued that, "Hobbes was therefore perfectly consistent in teaching that there is no original morality in acts, and that there was at first no such thing as right, distinct from might. Morals are factitious distinctions invented under civil society for expediency. Let the thoughtful reader consider how this monstrous conclusion uproots all obligation, and order, and allegiance. No man can hold the theory of the origin of government in the social contract, unless he either holds, with Hobbes, this damnable error, or. . . that all government is immoral."[32] Unfortunately however, not all Christians were as astute in their criticism of principles advocated by Hobbes and Locke.

Over a century ago, it was observed: "The early constitution of society was formed before the state had any existence. To the family the state is indebted for its origin, and civil society reaches its highest end as a more extended family bound together by domestic ties. From the union of the first couple beneath the shades of Paradise, to the time of the moveable habitations of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, domestic society is everywhere seen."[33] William A. Cocke argued that, "An immense error has been imbibed from our early studies of Grecian and Roman philosophy, as well as from their jurisprudence, in supposing that the state or commonwealth existed before the family government; and that the state received from civil society its constitution. This vast error has corrupted the tone of modern . . . political philosophy, as to the priority of the origin of the two societies, domestic and civil; for historically and logically the former is not only older, but the true source and fountain-head of the latter."[34] He concluded: "From the necessity of protection to the family sprang the state, and the power of civil society. This may not be the theory of the political philosophy of Europe from which much that is scholastic in America was borrowed; which maintains the doctrine of what is denominated `the social compact,' and the falsity `that civil society is the arbitrary work of man. . . . the civil power is the immediate offspring of the family power; and this is the explanation of the text, `For there is no power but of God.'"[35]

Religion: Essential for the State

Amidst the Civil War, James A. Lyon attempted to harmonize religion and politics. He began by arguing: "That religion and politics should be separated, the one wholly divorced from the other, is a popular fallacy so assiduously cultivated by a certain interested party, and so widely disseminated, that it may be justly termed one of Lord Bacon's 'idols;' . . . Of the many popular fallacies that are generally afloat in society, there is perhaps none that is deeper rooted or more damaging in its effects than the one just stated. How it originated, and became so deeply implanted in the popular mind, it may be rather difficult to explain. It is, however, a modern notion."[36]

Warning against the "infidelity and atheism developed in the French Revolution," Lyon sought to clarify that neither the teaching of Jesus, nor a proper understanding of the separation of church and state implied that the Christian faith had not public role: "The clear and manifest idea, therefore, contained in the declaration that `Christ's kingdom is not of this world,' is not that Christianity takes no interest in, and exerts no influence over the civil and political well-being of its followers and professors, but that the principles that govern Christ's kingdom are not to be confounded with, nor conformed to the principles that govern a wicked and apostatized world. . . . But the union of church and state is a very different thing from the union of religion and politics."[37] Similarly, William Archer Cocke believed, "Pure religion never sighed for a union of Church and State, nor sanctioned the murdering of the martyrs, nor introduced the fagot and the fire."[38] Cocke went on to say, however, that "such religion as ought to exist in the citizen should also appear in the political and civil affairs of the country. We repudiate all alliance between Church and State; yet the virtue which should govern the State, ought to be reflected from the religion of the citizen."[39]

Lyon exposed several of the underlying fallacies related to the view of the absolute separation of church and state. One flaw of that view was that it assumed that "man's true temporal interest and his eternal welfare are incongruous, or rather, that they are diametrically opposed; whereas, in truth, they are, in a certain sense, identical. . . . Politics are to religion what the body is to the soul."[40] Another reason, according to Lyon, that religion and politics could not be separated was that politics was the corporate expression of the individual,which could not be religionless: "The grand design of politics is to develop the good and suppress the bad in humanity, to the advantage of the State. Religion does the same thing, to the advantage of the individual, the component element of the state. Strictly speaking, the state is but the individual multiplied. Or more properly, the state is the family enlarged. So that whatever is for the true interest of the individual or the family, becomes mutatis mutandis, the true interest of the state. It follows, therefore, that if religion and business may be united in the individual, and religion and domestic government in the family, so, on the same principles, religion and politics should be united in the government of the state. The popular fallacy, therefore, which would dissever religion from politics, would on the same principles divorce it from every pursuit, calling, and relation in life . . ."[41] Two other aspects of "the mistaken supposition that there is an intrinsic incongruity between" religion and politics are: (1) that when the Scripture calls kings "nursing fathers," that could not possibly indicate a divorce of religion from politics; and (2) an eschatological argument that, "The glorious vision of the future is called . . . the `millennium.' Then, of course, there can be no separation between religion and politics. And if not then, there should not be now, since the principles that will characterize and predominate in the millennial state, are the very same that are at work now in bringing it about. It is a great mistake to suppose that one kind of principles will work in bringing about the millennium, and another kind will predominate during the millennium. This would be to imagine that like effects were not produced by like causes! Consequently, if religion and politics will be necessarily and legitimately united during the millennial state, they are, and must of necessity be, united in bringing it about."[42]

During the Civil War, Thomas Peck affirmed: "It is only in modern time, indeed, that the philosopher has undertaken to grapple with these relations, with a view to the practical separation of the spheres of the temporal and the spiritual, the civil and the ecclesiastical, the Church and the State. In the ancient forms of civilization, in its leading types, the Oriental, the Greek, and the Roman, we look in vain for any discrimination between these powers."[43] Drawing on earlier Scottish Presbyterians, Peck agreed with John Erskine: "There is a spiritual jurisdiction and power which God has given unto his Kirk, and to them that bear office therein; and there is a temporal jurisdiction and power given of God to kings and civil magistrates. But the powers are of God, and most agreeing to the fortifying one of the other, if they be rightly used."[44] Peck also cited approvingly Andrew Melville's notorious maxim: "There are two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland; there is King James, the head of the Commonwealth, and there is Christ Jesus, the King of the Church, whose subject James the Sixth is, and of whose kingdom he is not a king, nor a lord, nor a head, but a member."[45]

Abraham Kuyper, the Dutch statesman (prime minister in 1900) who combined principles and politics par excellence, thought that no aspect of life (even politics), "should remain untouched by the Christian. There is no important question of life in which the believer should refrain from seeking an answer from the Lord."[46] Similarly, during the Civil War James A. Lyon said: "Christianity is essentially aggressive in its nature, its tendency is to impregnate all that belongs to humanity with its own principles, all worship, all science, all art, all legislation, all commerce, all business, all amusements, all pleasure, so that whatever we do, we shall do all for the glory of God: . . . it can make no compromise with the world."[47]

However, Lyons and others did not call for a "union of church and state in formal bands, any more than by a union of church and commerce, the church and manufacturers, or church and law, or medicine, or any other calling or pursuit in life."[48]

The Force of Virtue Vs. Forced Establishmentarianism

Instead of a constitutional union of church and state, these nineteenth century leaders called for a union of virtue and politics. William A. Cocke believed that undergirding any public virtue would be "the great principle, that religion is the life of a nation."[49] Further arguing that, "the very best forms of government are vain without public virtue," he asserted that "God designed that the religious principle, as we have defined it, should be the life of a nation."[50] He clarified: "This does not recognize the interference on the part of the state with the forms or creeds of religion; nor the recognition of any Church by the laws; but simply that the principle of religion, carried from the domestic circle, and intermingled with the pure and lofty ideas which give life and dignity to civil society, ought, and for the well-being of the nation, must direct and regulate the machinery of state along the paths of virtue."[51]

Cocke warned against abandoning religion as a buttress for virtue: "The history of every age assures us that nations have been drawn into the vortex of ruin whenever they have departed from the religious principle; and whenever it ceased to act as their chart and compass, the ship of state tossed and broken by angry winds has foundered and gone down as it were like the Spanish Armada . . ."[52] As to exactly how the religious principle will enter the life of the nation "so as to maintain civil purity, a purity which shall be reflected from every branch of the government," without a confusion of church and state, Cocke explains, "Our answer to this question is, it must start from the domestic circle, the very cradle of its nationality; there it must germinate, and spread from family to family until it pervades the entire community. And as we have endeavored to illustrate that from the domestic order arose the state, that is, the government of the civil order, os must its principles be derived from its original source."[53] Believing that, "The Bible is the only basis of moral philosophy, as it is of the principles of all good government,"[54] Cocke argued:

In defending the principle that Christianity should be the basis of all human government, we ought also to defend the position that it is a destructive error to incorporate it in constitutions or laws; but to illustrate the beautiful, brilliant, and ever abiding truth, that the religious principle is the life of the nation, when it moves the moral faculties of the people to regulate the political machinery, not by mere codes of policy, but by the precepts and principles which true religion established for the regulation of human conduct. It must be the united action of a people speaking from the heart which will govern the administration of the laws . . .[55]

James H. Thornwell also believed that virtue would not result, unless connected to religion. He affirmed, "The moral nature of man is inseparably linked with immortality, and immortality as inseparably linked with religion."[56] Moreover, Thornwell trumpeted the theme of the inescapably religious foundation of politics: "Subjects that have no religion are incapable of law. . . . Every State, therefore, must have a religion, or it must cease to be a government of men. Hence no Commonwealth has ever existed without religious sanctions. . . . man must have a religion. Everywhere, in all ages, in all countries, in ancient as in modern times, in civilized as well as in barbarian nations, we find him a worshipper at some alter, be it venerable, degraded, or blood-stained."[57]

When a religion waxes old in a country; when the circumstances which at first favored its formation or introduction have changed; when in an age of reason it is tried and found unreasonable; when in an age of learning it is discovered to be the product of the grossest ignorance; when in an age of levity it is felt to be too stern; then the infidel spirit takes courage, and with a seal in which there is a strange mixture of scowling revenge and light-hearted wantonness, of deep-set hatred and laughing levity, it proceeds to level all existing temples and altars, and erects not others in their room.[58]

Thornwell believed that if such abandonment occurred, "The void which is created is soon filled with wantonness and violence. The State cannot be restored to order until it settles down upon some form of religion again. . . . a Commonwealth can no more be organized which shall recognize all religions, than one which shall recognize none. . . . A Godless State is, in fact, a contradiction in terms."[59] Notwithstanding, he maintained that this religious infrastructure of the state was "not to be understood as recommending or favoring a Church Establishment. To have a religion is one thing, to have a Church Establishment is another; . . . The Church and the State, as visible institutions, are entirely distinct, and neither can usurp the province of the other without injury to both. But religion, as a life, as an inward principle . . . extends its domain"[60] to the state. Yet, this extension is carried out qua citizen, not qua officium: "The State realizes its religious character through the religious character of its subjects; and a State is and ought to be Christian, because all its subjects are and ought to be determined by the principles of the Gospel."[61] Thornwell agreed that religion "cannot be enacted as a law, or enforced by authority."

Another key concept advocated by Thornwell was that the state was a macrocosm of the individual: "The same laws regulate, and the same crimes disfigure, the intercourse of States with one another, which obtain in the case of individuals. The political relations of the one are precisely analogous to the social relations of the other. The same standard of honor . . . and character out to be as sacred among sovereign States as among private individuals."[62] Likewise, "States are no more competent than individuals to discharge their duties without the grace of God." As tonic for the state, Thornwell admonished: "No polity can be devised which shall perpetuate freedom among a people that are dead to honor and integrity. Liberty and virtue are twin sisters, and the best fabric in the world, however ingeniously framed, and curiously balanced, can be no security against the corroding influences of bad faith."[63]

A short time after the Civil War, G. J. A. Coulson made several pertinent comments in "The Drift of American Politics." Sounding similar to modern assessments of politicians, Coulson asserted that, "The moral character of many of the most prominent men now holding custody of national interests is as bad as that of any score of convicts taken at random from any Penitentiary."[64] Later, he commented: "But there is good reason for the belief, that Washington society is more stained with crimes against the marriage relation than any other capital of equal proportion in the world."[65] Earlier, James A. Lyon had noted that, "political power has been allowed to slip, for the most part, into hands of wicked men. . . . Who does not know that, taking our rulers and politicians as a body, they are not godly, but godless men? . . . Who would not, in these days, be laughed to scorn, who should require as a sine qua non in a candidate for office, that he be a good man, a man of prayer [etc] . . . No wonder, therefore, that unreflecting people should conclude that there is no natural connection between religion and politics, when the majority of our rulers, and the character of our legislative bodies, is a practical demonstration of the fact."[66] In light of this corruption of leadership, Coulson predicted that the drift would lead to one of two conclusions, either to "positive anarchy," or to communism: "There was never a time in human history, when the advocates of Communism were more numerous or more compactly organized."[67]

Coulson warned against the "distinguishing peculiarity of your Communist": insolence.[68] Attributing part of this to "the horrors of the French Revolution,"[69] Coulson saw the abolition movement as the logical fulfillment of the egalitarianism espoused by the revolution of 1789.

If the nation is to avoid the "ditch of pollution and shame," it will only be done with "the domination of virtue over vice; of cultivation over ignorance; or righteousness over sin."[70] He called on aristocratic families to take up this crusade, and inveighed against the dangers of statist centralization: "Centralization of power and authority must needs be the primal factor, if such a revolution as that suggested would be successful. . . . And although many warning cries have been uttered, especially by the Democratic press, against this tendency in American politics, it is certainly a growing tendency, and is one of the most hopeful signs of the times. Even Autocracy is far better than Mobocracy; and a landed aristocracy is the most promising and most stable form of modern social life."[71]

Here then is the Drift. And this Drift, if it should begin to manifest its dynamical energy, will be like the vicious flow of the great ice fields of the frozen North. These vast seas of ice issue from the deep fiords of that desolate region, in one steady, irresistible flow, and they sweep away every obstacle that is movable. They bear on their cold bosom enormous masses of rock that no human machinery could move; and when the giant ice-berg breaks away and sails into lower latitudes, it leaves behind it, the same unmeasured area of flowing ice fields, which will continue to breed these Titans so long as the present isothermal lines are unchanged on the earth's surface.[72]

His solution was for the Gospel of Christ (a "dynamical engine which God has appointed for the conservation of social life"[73]) to animate Christian citizens to prevent the drift. James A. Lyon suggested that Christ's kingdom was "aggressive," and would not be satisfied with anything "less than the conquest and subjugation of the whole world."[74] Lyon admonished Christians to embark on a truth-telling crusade. He believed that their moral influence could best be extended by maintaining godly examples in faith and virtue: "It follows that every individual in the possession of truth . . . possesses the essence of moral power; and consequently, must be held responsible for the use he makes of it; power goes with the truth. Here, then, is the encouragement for the humblest Christian to speak the truth. Our vocation is that of truth-telling. The diffusion of truth is all that God requires of us toward advancing his kingdom in the world."[75]

His essay concluded with a summary of Christian duty: "The efficiency of the Church of Christ does not consist in numbers, but in purity; not in worldly wealth, but spirituality; not in magnificent and gorgeous array, that captivates the eye of the vulgar, but in consistency of character and conduct. Therefore, let not the followers of Christ `confer with flesh and blood,' but go forward in the fearless discharge of their great mission, which is to disseminate divine truth, and afford a demonstration of its power in their daily walk and conversation. This done, their duty is done."[76]

It legitimately follows from what has been said, first, that the Church and people of God are responsible for the removal of the moral evils that are in the world, and for the final triumph of the Gospel; second, that this is to be effected, not by falling into the ways of the world, grasping the reins of government, and seizing the civil scepter, but simply by proclaiming the truth, teaching kings and governors, rulers and the ruled, their duty, and, as ambassadors of God, to speak with the authority of God; third, that they are not, from a carnal or timid policy, to wait until the popular sentiment becomes right in relation to the evils that are abroad, before they attempt to set it right. This would be to expect an end without the use of the appointed and appropriate means; to look for an effect, without the natural cause. No; the very design of the organized Church . . . is to teach the world, to enlighten the world, and to mold public sentiment in accordance with the laws of God, and thus win the world to Christ. . . . And fourth, this is to be effected in all popular governments, not by petitioning legislative bodies or executive departments, and thereby forcing legislation in advance of popular sentiment. This results in no good, but much evil, sin, in popular governments like our own, legislative enactments, unless they reflect the sentiment of the people, are of no permanent force. Moreover, and more especially, for the organized Church of God, and the ambassadors of Christ, in their official capacity, to send up humble petitions to kings and governors, and legislative bodies, is inappropriate and degrading. God would not petition a king or a law-maker to do right; no more should his ambassadors. Jesus Christ did not humbly request the rulers of the earth to refrain from doing wrong; no more can his bride, which is the Church. It is not the part or province of the ambassadors of God, or the Church of Christ in its organized capacity, to knock at the door of legislative bodies, and hand in their petitions, begging them to enact laws in accordance with the word of God, and to rescind such as are contrary to it. They might command despots, as the ancient prophets did, in the name of the Lord God; but, in popular governments, their whole and sole duty is with the people, who alone are the responsible sovereigns and law-makers, it is to tell them the truth, teach them, and thereby mold public sentiment, which is law, in accordance with the revealed word of God. Then legislation, and all other things pertaining to social relations, will come right of themselves, as a natural consequence. This molding of public sentiment in accordance with righteousness, is the legitimate province of the Church and people of God; and is accomplished simply by TELLING THE TRUTH, the whole truth, plainly, fearlessly, boldly, kindly, earnestly, perseveringly;[77]

Moreover, Lyon believed that "Christians, in their organized and individual capacity, are to infuse into legislation and politics the holy principles and benign spirit of the Christian religion," while the church qua church had "no right or authority to administer civil government, or to participate in any respect whatever in purely secular affairs."[78]

In contrast to some views of equality of insight, Lyon asserted that, "unregenerate men are, in the very nature of the case, disqualified for legislating and ruling in all respects for the benefit of every class of the community, from the fact that they are incapable of knowing all of the wants, and appreciating the rights of the regenerated, as such; . . . wicked men are no more capable of ruling for the best interests of religious people, than the blind man is to be the guide of the wayfaring."[79] Further, he infers:

The inference is not only plain, but inevitable, that Christians can not, dare not, without violating their allegiance to Christ, and the law of true charity, vote for, or in any wise contribute towards the elevation of ungodly men to posts of political power and trust. It is, therefore, manifestly as sin, which never fails ultimately to bring with it its own punishment. To vote for or elevated bad men to public office, is not only to put men in power, who, as we have seen, are incapable of ruling and legislating for the best interests of Christ's kingdom, but it is to arm wickedness, and to increase the power of ungodly men for evil. When a Christian elevates to office a fellow-man by his vote, he thereby delegates to him his own moral and political power. Fearful, therefore is the responsibility of arming bad men to do evil. It is every whit the same as though you did the evil yourself.[80]

Not only were Christians to avoid supporting bad politicians, moreover they also had a positive duty: "not only to refrain from voting for bad men, but he is bound to do all that is legitimately within his power, to defeat their election, and to elevate good men, praying men, god-fearing men, in their places. In this particular, religious men nave been very derelict in their duty. Many of them . . . have not been active in elevating bad men to office. They have stood aloof, but they have stood idly and silently. Restrained by a weak timidity . . ."[81] Lyon suggested that the Christian is not to vote for either candidate, if they are morally corrupt, and to thereby bear witness to the truth by abstaining.

Relationship of Agencies

In synthesizing these matters, the respective roles of church and state must be kept clear. The American Civil War forced many to delimit the respective roles of church and state. Thomas Peck observed that, "The Church and the State agree in these three points: 1. That they are ordained of God; 2. That they are ordained for his glory; 3. That they are ordained for the good of mankind. . . . They differ in the following points: 1. That the State is an ordinance of God considered as the creator, and, therefore, the moral governor of mankind; while the Church is an ordinance of God considered as the savior and the restorer of mankind. The State is ordained for man as man; the Church for man as a sinner in a condition of inchoate restoration and salvation. The State is for the whole race of man; the Church consists of that portion of the race which is really, or by credible profession, the mediatorial body of Christ. . . . civil government is designed for man as man."[82] Peck proceeded to list three other differences (below). He asserted that the church as an institution was part of the work of Jesus as Mediator: "It contemplates man, not as upright, in his original condition of innocence, nor simply as a fallen being, but as the `prisoner of hope;'. . . Its great function is to teach, to convince, to persuade . . . Its triumphs are the triumphs of love; it drags no reluctant captives at the wheels of its chariot; . . . It has nothing to do with the power of the sword; its symbol is the keys. Its discipline is not the discipline of avenging justice, asserting the unbending majesty of the law, but the discipline of a mother, whose bowels yearn over the wayward child, who inflicts no pain except for the child's reformation and salvation. The authority of her King is spiritual."[83]

Peck distinguished that Christians agreed about the Kingship of Christ, "in the sense that all earthly kings and lords are subject to his authority. But the question is, whether civil rulers derive their authority from him, as Mediator, or whether they derive their authority from God, as moral governor of mankind. The latter seems to us to be the truth."[84]

The second difference between the agencies of the church and the state, according to Peck, was the basis and scope of authority:

The rule for the Church is the word of God . . . This is the statute book of the visible kingdom of Christ. The rule for the State is the light of nature, or the human reason. The power of the Church is, strictly and only, ministerial and declarative; the power of the State is magisterial and imperative. The Church has no power to make laws, but only to declare the law of God. All her acts of government are acts of obedience to her Head and King. The State has the power to make laws, as well as to declare them; has a legislative as well as a judicial power. Hence, the form of government for the Church, the regulative and the constitutive principles of her organization, are not matters to be determined by human reason, but to be derived from the Bible as the constitution and statute book; while, in the State, these are matters to be settled by the history and condition of political communities. The life of the State is natural, and it is left to assume an organization for itself. The life of the Church is supernatural, and God prescribes an organization for it.[85]

Still, when asked whether the Bible had no role to inform the civil power, Peck answered, "assuredly not."

The third dissimilarity between church and state is found in "their sanctions, as well as in their authority and their rule. The sanction of ecclesiastical government is moral, appealing to the faith and the conscience, a parental discipline, designed for the good of the offender. Its symbol is the keys. The sanction of civil government is force, appealing to the bodily sensibilities of the subject . . .; a penal administration, designed to vindicate the majesty of justice and the supremacy of law, with a very incidental, if any, reference to the good of the transgressor. Its symbol is the sword."[86] Finally, Peck notes this fourth difference: "The scope and aim of civil power is only things temporal; of the ecclesiastical power, only things spiritual. Religious is a term not predictable of acts of the State; political and civil, not predictable of acts of the Church."[87]

Peck draws a distinction that bears retaining. Noting that even before the Fall, the social nature of man itself would demand a directing power for the state, he concludes that, "In a fallen state, it has become, of necessity, a restraining and punishing, as well as a directing power."[88] Peck concludes, "Therefore, government is as necessary to man as society, and, for this reason, is as natural to man as society. It may not be an original endowment of man, but it is natural; and if natural, then the ordinance of God. . . . Civil government, then, is a branch or department of the moral government of God, the creator and ruler over man."[89]

Moreover, Peck distinguished between the negative authority of the Bible (The state "can do anything which the Bible does not forbid."), which guides the state, as opposed to the positive regulation of the Bible as the charter for the church:

In conclusion, Peck stated: "The only safety for liberty and for religion, is in rigidly enforcing the maxim that the Bible is, in the sense already illustrated, a positive rule for the Church, and a negative rule for the State."[91] He also maintained the thoroughly theological position that, "every civil government on earth is bound explicitly to recognize its responsibility to God as the moral governor of mankind."[92] As much as anything else, these evangelicals wanted to preserve the prophetic ministry of the church, to call the government, as any other sphere, to honor God. Thornwell advocated that the Christian faith should instruct and call the civil magistrate to adhere to God's ways:

[T]he State must be impressed with a profound sense of his all-pervading providence, and of its responsibility to him as the moral Ruler of the world. The powers that be are ordained of him. From him the magistrate receives his commission, and in his fear he must use the sword as a terror to evildoers and a praise to them that do well. Civil government is an institute of Heaven, founded in the character of man as social and moral, and is designed to realize the idea of justice. Take away the notion of mutual rights and the corresponding notions of duty and obligation, and a Commonwealth is no more conceivable among men than among brutes. As the State is essentially moral in its idea, it connects itself directly with the government of God. . . . A State, therefore, which does not recognize its dependence upon God, or which fails to apprehend, in its functions and offices, a commission from heaven, is false to the law of its won being.[93]

In conclusion, citizens of any age will do well to put the government in its proper place. The state is not to become Messianic, nor play the role of Savior. It must thus be restrained from assuming duties or domains which God has not entrusted to it. Those things which God has prohibited the state from superintending must be kept from it. A helpful concept to preserve the proper place for government is to retain government as a servant. Jesus spoke of individual leadership as that of service rather than lordship (Mt. 20:20-28). If the state is the extension of individuals, such ethos should be preserved. The state, and those who serve in it, must not arrogate to themselves roles other than those of servants to the citizens.

James Thornwell put it this way: "Congress is, therefore, only the creature of the states, and acts only through them. It is their consent, their treaty, which gives to its enactments the validity of law. . . . The creature of a treaty, in which the contracting parties were all equal, it is manifestly the servant, and not the master, of the states. It is an agent, and not a principal."[94] Thornwell's warning against the state assuming mastery should be both a political and a theological dogma.

He warned against Congress transcending its proper scope. Whenever the government becomes savior instead of servant, it is thus "guilty of a breach of trust, and of disloyalty to its own masters. It may presume upon the consent of the states, where no consent has been given. It may forget that it is a servant, and aspire to be lord. It may forget that it is an agent, and arrogate to itself the rights an authority of the principal. . . . it may become dazzled with the contemplation of its own greatness, and attribute to itself the light that is reflected upon it."[95]

The effect of this simple distinction is nearly inestimable. How much loss of life and liberty might have been spared if totalitarian states in the following decades had been restrained by this concept. Christianity, of all the world religions, explicitly provides for the maintenance of this crucial distinction. In Romans 13, the Scripture speaks of the civil governor as a deacon, a minister of God. Another terms that is used is leitourgosa, public functionary. Normally the liturgist is the public functionary who leads a worship service. However, in Roman society, a liturgist could equally be a civil servant. Both were to view themselves as servants, under a definite charter. The liturgist was not to become the Master or Savior. He served in a derivative role; his duties were prescribed. As such, the scriptures contain an essential safeguard for the state and its subjects. As long as the government respects its God-given limitations, as long as it serves as a humble liturgists, it is proper and in its place. But as soon as it exceeds this charter, it becomes a false Messiah, a pretentious, dangerous, and impotent Savior. In its place, the state is a blessing in this life; if however, it seeks to arrogate to itself the prerogatives of Savior, it must be reformed to conform to the only true and living Sovereign (1 Tim. 1:18).

Endnotes

[1.]Benjamin M. Palmer, "Church and State," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 3 (Oct., 1849), p. 226.
[2.] Ibid.
[3.] Idem.
[4.] Ibid., p. 214.
[5.] Ibid., p. 211.
[6.] William Archer Cocke, "The Religious Principle The Life of the Nation," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. XXII (July, 1871), p. 355. Later, Cocke clarifies: "It was not religion that forced the French towards the close of the 18th century to get drunk on blood that the nation might vomit crime. The Church was corrupt; the religious tone of the nation was vitiated; those sweet and sacred bonds which unite the civil and the domestic societies were severed; the fountain from which should have flowed streams of living water fertilizing the land had lost its power for good." Ibid., p 357.
[7.] James Henley Thornwell, "Sermon on National Sins," The Collected Works of James H. Thornwell (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1986), Vol. III, p. 511.
[8.] Idem.
[9.] Ibid., . 513.
[10.] Ibid., pp. 513-514.
[11.] Robert L. Dabney, Lectures in Systematic Theology (rpr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1985), p. 862.
[12.] Ibid., pp. 862-863.
[13.] Ibid., p. 863.
[14.] Ibid.
[15.] Ibid., p. 865.
[16.] Ibid., pp. 865-866.
[17.] Ibid., p. 867.
[18.] Thornwell, op. cit., p. 536.
[19.] Dabney, op. cit., p. 869.
[20.] Ibid., p. 874.
[21.] Ibid., p. 887.
[22.] Ibid., pp. 874-875.
[23.] Ibid., pp. 869-870. His argument for a defensive war is stated succinctly: "The magistrate who is charged with the sword, to avenge and prevent domestic murder, is a fortiori charged to punish and prevent the foreign murderer."
[24.] Ibid., p. 882.
[25.] Ibid., p. 870.
[26.] Ibid.
[27.] Ibid., p. 872.
[28.] In Vol. III of Discussions of Robert Lewis Dabney (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1982), pp. 21-46. The page references in parentheses in this page are from that article.
[29.] Thornwell, op. cit., p. 515.
[30.] Robert L. Dabney, A Defense of Virginia and of the South (rpr. Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle, 1991), p. 253.
[31.] Ibid., p. 242.
[32.] Ibid., p. 248.
[33.] William Archer Cocke, "The Religious Principle The Life of the Nation," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. XXII (July, 1871), p. 352.
[34.] Idem.
[35.] Ibid., p. 353.
[36.] James A. Lyon, "Religion and Politics," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 15 (April, 1863), p. 569. He also notes that, "the separation of religion and politics, as a cardinal maxim in the foundation and superstructure of civil society, is of recent growth, the birth of modern infidelity." Ibid., p. 570.
[37.] Ibid., p. 570.
[38.] William Archer Cocke, "The Religious Principle the Life of the Nation," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. XXII (July, 1871), p. 350.
[39.] Idem.
[40.] Lyon, op. cit., p. 583
[41.] Ibid., p. 585.
[42.] Ibid., p. 586.
[43.] Thomas Peck, "Church and State," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. XVI (October, 1863), p. 122.
[44.] Ibid., p. 127.
[45.] Idem.
[46.] McKendree Langley, "God and Liberty," Pro Rege, Vol. VIII, no. 2 (Dec. 1979), p. 5.
[47.] James A. Lyon, "Religion and Politics," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 15 (April, 1863), p. 589.
[48.] Ibid., p. 590.
[49.] Cocke, op. cit., p. 351.
[50.] Idem.
[51.] Ibid., p. 353.
[52.] Ibid., p. 358.
[53.] Ibid., p. 360
[54.] Ibid., p. 372.
[55.] Ibid., p. 376.
[56.] James Henley Thornwell, "Sermon on National Sins," The Collected Works of James H. Thornwell (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1986), Vol. III, p. 515.
[57.] Ibid., pp. 515-516.
[58.] Ibid., p. 516.
[59.] Ibid., pp. 517, 519.
[60.] Ibid., p. 517.
[61.] Idem.
[62.] Ibid., p. 522.
[63.] Ibid., p. 529.
[64.] G. J. A. Coulson, "The Drift of American Politics," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 32 (April, 1881), p. 322.
[65.] Ibid., p. 325.
[66.] James A. Lyon, "Religion and Politics," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 15 (April, 1863), p. 571.
[67.] Ibid., p. 323.
[68.] Ibid., p. 326.
[69.] Ibid., p. 326.
[70.] Ibid., p. 332.
[71.] Ibid., p.. 332-333.
[72.] Ibid., p. 333.
[73.] Ibid., p. 334.
[74.] James A. Lyon, "Religion and Politics," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. 15 (April, 1863), p. 570.
[75.] Ibid., p. 595.
[76.] Ibid., p. 610.
[77.] Ibid., pp. 595-596.
[78.] Ibid., p. 600.
[79.] Ibid., p. 606.
[80.] Ibid., pp. 606-607.
[81.] Ibid., p. 607.
[82.] Thomas Peck, "Church and State," The Southern Presbyterian Review, Vol. XVI (October, 1863), p. 130.
[83.] Ibid., p. 134.
[84.] Ibid., p. 135.
[85.] Ibid., p. 137.
[86.] Ibid., p. 142.
[87.] Ibid., p. 143.
[88.] Ibid., p. 132.
[89.] Idem.
[90.] Ibid., p. 138.
[91.] Ibid., p. 140.
[92.] Ibid., p. 133.
[93.] James Henley Thornwell, "Sermon on National Sins," The Collected Works of James H. Thornwell (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1986), Vol. III, p. 515.
[94.] James Henley Thornwell, "Sermon on National Sins," The Collected Works of James H. Thornwell (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1986), Vol. III, p. 527.
[95.] Ibid., p. 528.

David W. Hall is a Senior Fellow at the Kuyper Institute and Pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church in Oak Ridge, TN.