09 Apr

Ann Kibbey, “Iconoclastic Materialism” (1986)

“Iconoclastic Materialism” examines Protestants’ discourse and iconoclasm during the Reformation to understand how they thought about things. Kibbey argues that although Protestants destroyed images, they did not categorically oppose all images or icons.

Summary

Historians, according to Kibbey, have misunderstood Protestants’ reactions to images. Kibbey argues that “Puritan iconoclasm no less than Puritan rhetoric, granted substantial importance to material shapes” (42). Protestants iconoclasm was about the right use of material objects. Puritans recognized themselves as images of God, or living icons. Moreover, Kibbey argues that Puritans’ opposition to images was “actually a devoted, if negative, act of reverence, and a very self-conscious one at that” (42). Puritan iconoclasts “believed very deeply in the power of icon” (42).  In other words, Protestants did not see icons and images as empty and meaningless. Images, even if they were bad images, held power over Protestants. Puritans recognized that idols compelled humans to believe in them. Visual figures were a threat to humans because they seemed like they could speak, walk, and act. Puritans felt threatened by idols. Idol invoked fear in viewers. According to Kibbey, “Calvin’s reasoning implies that Protestant iconoclasts believed it necessary to attack the visual images in church sculpture, glass, and painting not because they disbelieved these images but rather because they believed quite strongly in their power” (47).  Protestants believed in the power of icons and idols.

Historiography

Kibbey’s chapter is important to studies of Protestant material culture. 1) Kibbey recognizes that Protestants held a negative reverence for images. Idols held power over iconoclasts and they instilled fear in humans. Protestants did not recognize idols as dead and meaningless. Idols could act on humans. This is important for understanding 19th century Protestant missions in the United States and missionaries’ infatuation with idols. 2) Kibbey also recognizes that Puritans recognized themselves as living images of God, or icons. This is important for future work on Puritan portraits and gravestones which imaged individual Protestants. Scholars have not yet recognized Puritan gravestones as icons. They were images of living icons and worked in a way similar to other icons.  3) Kibbey also recognizes that Marx’s commodity fetish is deeply rooted in Protestantism. Kibbey suggests that Calvin’s analysis of sacramental bread is a precursor to Marx’s commodity fetish. Both have power that resides outside the material thing. According to Kibbey, “Both Calvin and Marx perceive a contradiction between the ordinary use of an object and the value (spiritual or exchange) that it acquires upon consecration/circulation” (52). Marx’s critique of capitalism is also a critique of Protestantism.  Kibbey’s work is significant because it calls scholars to consider Protestant materialism. Contemporary scholars are still hesitant to recognize the power that things have and had over Protestants.

07 Apr

Ann Douglass, The Feminization of American Culture (1977)

The Feminization of American Culture examines how American religion transformed in the nineteenth-century from New England Calvinism to Protestant sentimentalism. Douglas argues that American religion was feminized by sentimentalism. This feminization was detrimental to American culture because it did not aid in the progress of America or promote feminism.

Summary

Douglas traces the emergence of sentimental Protestantism to the decline of Calvinism and disestablishment. Ministers experienced disestablishment as states stopped supporting official religions. Evangelicalism rose to popularity and supported less-well trained and less theologically focused clergy. Calvinist ministers experienced a decline in their social, economic, and religious statuses. At the same time, women experienced disestablishment as production and labor were increasingly moved from the home to the marketplace. Women lost control of their homes, families, and American culture. They experiences a loss of social status. They attempted “to gain power through the exploitation of the feminine identity as the society defined it” (8). Ministers in turn gave into this female audience to gain support and authority.

The printing press united these ministers and women in their efforts to gain power. They shared a “preoccupation with the lighter productions of the press; they wrote poetry, fiction, memoirs, sermons, and magazines pieces” (8). Through the press ministers and women wished to exert their influence, which they claimed as a religious force, on society. But this influence was haphazard, according to Douglas, because they “confused theology with religiosity, religiosity with literature, and literature with self-justification” (9). Douglas admits that their intentions were not bad: “Under the sanctions of sentimentalism, lady and clergyman were able to cross the cruel lines laid down by sexual stereotyping in ways that were clearly historically important and undoubtedly personally fulfilling” (10). Nevertheless, the effects were bad. “Nineteenth-century American women were oppressed, and damaged; inevitably the influence they exerted in turn on society was not altogether beneficial” (11).

The influence of sentimentalism and feminization were detrimental to American culture, religion, and history. According to Douglas, “The tragedy of nineteenth-century northeastern society is not the demise of Calvinist patriarchal structures, but rather the failure of a viable, sexually diversified culture to replace them” (13). Sentimentalism also created a feminine form of religion that was not concerned with feminism, education, or theology. “’Feminization’ inevitably guaranteed, not simply the loss of the fines values contained in Calvinism, but the continuation of male hegemony in different guises” (13).  It also created a static holding pattern. “The triumph of the ‘feminizing,’ sentimental forces that would generate mass culture redefined and perhaps limited the possibilities for change in American society” (13). The feminization of American culture was too sentimental, too emotional, non-theological, anti-intellectual, and anti-feminist. Douglas could not overcome her infatuation with male dominated forms of Calvinism to give women a chance to speak in nineteenth-century American culture.

Historiography

The Feminization of American Culture, despite some historians’ continued criticisms, remains central to the narrative of religion in American history. This narrative continues to perpetuate the feminization of American religion. To be sure, most historians do not accept the negative aspect of this feminization. However, they do still accept Douglas’s idea that feminization of American religion segregated men and women into separate spheres. Douglas argued that women were “by and large in the home…” Historians, like Colleen McDannell, have worked to rescue the private, or domestic, sphere from Douglas’s indictments of its failures and hypocrisies. McDannell argues that the private sphere wielded positive and considerable influence in the nineteenth-century on the family through material displays of religion.

Douglas’s argument continues to impact how scholars of women’s history narrate the emergence of feminism in America. Douglas suggested that Sarah J. Hale was a complacent, anti-feminist:

“Nothing is more distressing to the feminist historian than the atmosphere of flushtide self-congratualtion that pervades the work of a woman like Sarah Hale; it is understandable, but nonetheless painful that, to groups whose potentialities are largely suppressed, any enlarged exercise of faculty seems, and probably is, at least in the short range an almost unmitigated good, whenever inner conflicts it creates, whatever limitations or long-term consequences it carries. It is pointless to condemn the anticipatory complacency of women like Hale as to condescend to members of ethnic or racial minority groups who ‘waste’ their money today on big cars and fancy clothes. The self-conscious if devious sense of social mobility felt by Hale and others was natural, yet it was delusive. Inevitably the uneasy alliance of ministers and women depended on their mutual entanglement in intricate and unperceived forms of dishonesty.”

Douglas threw Hale and other Christian feminists, like Catherin Beecher, under the bus. Their work did not matter. It was dishonest and it was not progressive. Their work was not feminist work. Nina Baym tried to rescue Hale from Douglas’s attack. In “Onward Christian Women,” Baym argues that Hale was a Christian feminist who supported women’s rights and women’s history in Christian terms. Nevertheless, historians continue to read Hale, Beecher, and other nineteenth-century women who supported similar notions as backwards, complacent, anti-feminists. Douglas’s work, although it promoted feminism, has greatly harmed women’s history in America. Historians are slowly recuperating from Douglas’s attacks on nineteenth-century women and their work for women and women’s rights.

Despite Douglas’s attack on nineteenth-century women, her work is important for women’s history. Douglas recognized that women were a prime consumer audience and prime produces in nineteenth-century America. Douglas suggested that most women were “By and large in the home.” But, Douglas did not separate women completely into the private, domestic sphere. Women were produces of American print culture. In fact, women led the clergy into the popular press. While Douglas condemned the content of these women’s writings, her insights are significant. Woman wrote for and shaped nineteenth-century print culture. Women were integral to the “public sphere.” Historians have not taken Douglas’s insights to their logical conclusion: women controlled American culture through print. Douglas also suggests that women controlled the marketplace as consumers. “In certain ways, middle-class women were freed as well as enfeebled by the shift in their economic status; they were to have greater, if more questionable, powers as consumers than that had enjoyed as producers [in the home]…they were women advocating the womanly, even if in aggressive ways…the home could sanction rather than limit traditionally undomestic activities” (78). Douglas recognizes the links between gender, the home, and the marketplace like no other historian has.

Douglas’s work is also important because it recognizes the importance of women in death and mourning in nineteenth-century America. However, like the women and ministers who support these practices, death and mourning were insincere forms of sentimentalism and feminization. Douglas argues that ministers and women “inflated the importance of dying and the dead by every possible means” (201). Like women’s other endeavors, these were negative. The proliferation of literature about death and dying did not reflect any increase in actual deaths. Neither did it reflect Americans’ concerns about death and the afterlife. Rather, it reflected women and ministers’ power struggles. “If the insignificant [the dead] could be proved to be significant, if the dead could live, ministers and women could establish a new balance of power in the free-for-all, intensely competitive democracy of American culture” (202). Women and minister feminized death and mourning to gain power in American culture.

The Feminization of American Culture is important for what is can tell us about women in American religion and history. Women were producers and consumers in the home and burgeoning marketplace. This comes out most clearly in the epilogue: “The forces of feminization were significant enough—they had tapped the increasingly formidable processes of industrialization, commercialization, and mass culture deeply enough—so that any opposition, even waged by a Harvard graduate like T.R., had to be conducted on their own terms” (328). Women were the arbiters of religion, culture, and the marketplace. Historians have not taken these claims seriously as they have examined women’s history in America. Ironically enough, Douglas’s work may help historians recognize the importance of women in American history. It may help scholars overcome their dependence on the separate spheres.

31 Mar

Jeanne Boydston, Home & Work: Housework, Wages, and the Ideology of Labor in the Early Republic (1990)

Jeanne Boydston traces the history of unpaid domestic labor among white working- and middle-class women in the northeast in colonial and antebellum America. Home & Work sets housework within a Marxist framework to understand “the intimate relationship between the gender and labor systems that characterized industrializing America” (xii). Boydston argues that in the antebellum period the “growing social invisibility of labor women performed for their own families made housework in many ways the prototype for the restructuring of the social relations of labor under conditions of early industrialization” (xx). Boydston terms the invisibility of women’s labor “the pastoralization of housework.” By the 1820s and 1830s, economic life and labor were “spherized” such that women’s labor was ideologically separated from the “productive” labor of men. This notion was cemented in Americans’ imagination although housework was physically taxing, time-consuming, and supported family life and economy.

This book is an important contribution to the study of women’s labor in American history. Boydston’s book challenges other scholars’ definition of labor, and its relation to industrialization, capitalism, and Marxism. In The Origins of the Family, Private Property and the State, Friedrich Engels argues that domestic work enslaved women and prevented them from participating in industrialization and the larger economy (199). In this traditional capitalist narrative, women’s domestic labor is separated from industrial labor that takes place in public, male spaces. Women’s housework is viewed as private, unproductive labor that is ancillary to the progress of the economy and society. The legacy of Engel’s narrative can be traced to Herbert G. Gutman’s Work, Culture & Society. Gutman’s work moves the study of labor history beyond a “narrow ‘economic’ analysis” that isolates labor from “American cultural and social history” (10). This “new” labor history emphasizes “the frequent tension between different groups of men and women new to the machine and a changing American society” (12). Yet, like Engels, Gutman defines labor in terms of production, public space, and profit.

Boydston’s revolutionizes the ways that scholars should think about labor. Labor does not only occur in public, male spaces. Labor also takes place in homes and is carried out by unpaid women. Thus, Boydston challenges traditional Marxist notions of labor that are defined in terms of profit, public spaces, and mechanical production of goods. Boydston goes further in her analysis to suggest that scholars must recognize the relationship between domestic labor and industrialization. With the war of 1812, Boydston suggests that Americans began to believe that their “household economies and their identity as a nation depended on growing cash markets and capitalized manufacturing” (54). This notion contributed to an understanding not only that there was “a gendered division of labor,” but that there was “a gendered definition of labor” (55) in the early American Republic. Boydston urges scholars to recognize that the processes of early industrialization and emerging capitalism transformed perceptions about women’s labor in the household. This is made clear when Boydston describes the innovations in household technologies that were influenced by industrialization and notions of material consumption.

Recognizing the relationship between labor and industrialization allows Boydston to historicize and challenge notions about the ideology of separate spheres in antebellum America. Other scholars, like Kathryn K. Sklar, have recognized the relationship between domestic labor and industrialization. In Catharine Beecher, Sklar argues: “the ideology of domesticity was an effort to overcome the relative deterioration in the status of women that occurred when economic production was transferred from the household to the factory” (193). Yet, Sklar does not challenge scholarly notions about sphere ideology. Rather, Sklar reinforces the notions that sphere ideology was an accepted antebellum reality. The parlor was the “cultural podium…the base from which their [women’s] influence on the rest of the culture was launched” (137). Elsewhere Sklar notes, that the home was “a new kind of space within which they forged their [families’] identities and around which they organized their social and political interaction” (xi). Thus, nineteenth-century New England homes remain private, domestic spaces in antebellum reality. Homes are free of strenuous domestic labor, and are the realms of spiritual mothers basking in cultural and social leisure.

Boydston, following Linda K. Kerber, challenges the reality of sphere ideology in an effort to explain the invisibility of women’s domestic labor. Boydston notes, “the ideology of gender spheres was partly a response to the chaos of a changing society—an intellectually and emotionally comforting way of setting limits to the uncertainties of early industrialization” (143). The mother and home were perceived as shelters from the dangers of an industrial society. Thus, “Woman-in-the-abstract” was “defined as the embodiment of all that was contrary to the values and behaviors of men in the marketplace, and thus, the marketplace itself” (144). Eventually, the metaphors of sphere ideology were accepted as women’s actual behaviors. The conflation of “ideology and behavior was to obscure both the nature and the economic importance of women’s domestic labor” (146). This culminated in what Boydston terms the “pastoralization of housework” (161). Women, like Harriett Beecher, could detail their strenuous domestic labors—cooking, cleaning, caring for children, varnishing furniture, mending clothes, making household items, dealing with tradespeople, visiting neighbors, writing, and managing landlords—and still suggest that “I don’t do anything” (163). The sphere ideology masked the reality of women’s works such that women themselves understood their work as dissociated from “productive,” industrialized labor. Separate sphere ideology began as a metaphor and was then accepted as reality.

While Boydston’s work provides notable insights into the relationships between domestic labor and industrialization, the relationships between labor, capitalism, and Protestantism could have been complicated to better understand the history of the invisibility of women’s work. Boydston argues that women’s domestic labor was not always invisible in American society. Women’s labor was recognized by colonial Americans, particularly early Protestants, as significant to the family’s economy and well-being in the community. Boydston suggests that the Puritan “calling” infused “secular work with an ethical dimension: the goal of labor was to be useful to the larger purposes of creation, as expressed in the commonweal of society” (20).  This analysis is important for understanding the relationship between religion, labor, and industrialization.

Yet, this analysis is problematic on several levels. First, Boydston relies on the notion that there is a division between the sacred and “secular work.” Thus, Boydston’s history of labor assumes a secularization framework where the progress of capitalism and labor are evidence of the absence of religion. Religious studies historians have discounted the secularization thesis that proliferated through the 1980s. Second, Boydston assumes that when Puritans’ notion of “the calling” was deemphasized, later Protestantism had little impact on conceptions of labor and capitalism. In fact, Protestantism vanishes from Boydston’s history after the 1640s even though evangelicalism proliferated through the antebellum period and influenced notions of labor and labor reform through “the benevolent empire.” Gutman refers to some of these influences in Work, Culture & Society in his discussion of pre- and post-millennialism Protestant labor reform movements (79-118). Finally, Protestantism does not figure into Boydston’s analysis of the ideology of gender spheres. This is deeply problematic because, as Sklar notes in Catharine Beecher, this ideology can be traced to Calvinist beliefs about gender roles. Moreover by the mid-nineteenth century, sphere language promoted the home as the center for children’s religious formation, and mothers in homes as the arbiters of religious life. This is especially seen in Catharine Beecher’s Treatise on Domestic Economy, which Boydston’s quotes extensively without mentioning its Protestant leanings. Beecher urged women to teach their children Christian values, and to literally construct a Christian home by modeling the architecture of the home on nineteenth-century church plans. The domestic economy for Beecher, and other women who promoted or misrecognized the ideology of the gender spheres, mirrored the divine, Protestant economy. Future analysis of women’s labor must also analyze Protestantism in relation to nineteenth-century ideas about gender, capitalism, and industrialization.

 

Protestants notions about labor, gender, and capitalism are important because nineteenth-century American aligned middle-class respectability with Protestant parlor piety and the marketplace. This is important because Boydston assumes that separate sphere ideology defined womanhood and motherhood “as the embodiment of all that was contrary to the values and behaviors of men in the marketplace, and thus, the marketplace itself” (144). But, this is not true. Protestant women brought the marketplace into the home in very specific ways. Protestant advice literature advised women to buy mass-produced products for display in their homes. These things were religious objects and images that reflected the families’ wealth, religiosity, participation in the marketplace, and class. Class and social status were central to nineteenth-century Protestants conceptions of home and work. Boydston mentions class in her analysis of home and work. “It was, after all, in the middle classes that women had presumably been freed from the necessity of labor that had characterized the colonial helpmate….Indeed, in the celebrations of middle-class ‘Motherhood’ lay the fullest embodiments of the marginalization of housewives as workers” (158). But, class was not only defined by motherhood in terms of nurturing children. It was defined by the marketplace and things. Mothers were to educate their children and decorate their homes with Christian things. But decorating homes cost money that many American families did not have. Women were instructed to work to decorate homes so they would appear to be upper-middle class, white Protestants. The appearance of class through display and home decoration contributed to the invisibility of women’s labor. Women were supposed to present themselves and their homes as if they could afford things and servants. White, middle-class Protestant aspirations contributed to the invisibility of women’s domestic labor. Protestant things and the marketplace were essential to “the pastoralization of housework.”

 

Despite Boydston neglect of religion and the marketplace in the home, Home & Work revolutionizes the ways scholars should think about women’s domestic labor. Women’s domestic work and its dissociation from “real” labor, economy, and capitalism cannot be understood without recognizing how housework was transformed in its relationship to industrialization and separate sphere ideology in the nineteenth-century.

26 Mar

Harry S. Stout, The Divine Dramatist: George Whitefield and the Rise of Modern Evangelicalism (1991)

The Divine Dramatist traces the biography of George Whitefield, “Anglo-America’s most popular eighteenth-century preacher” (xiii). Harry S. Stout recounts this life story through Whitefield’s published writings and diaries, letters, magazines, and newspapers from the eighteenth-century. This book examines Whitefield’s popularity in terms of social and cultural history. Stout argues that Whitefield “bequeathed a new, more modern sense to the term evangelical. His field preaching competed not only with the ‘velvet-mouthed’ preachers of his church, but also with the vendors, sportsmen, and entertainers of the marketplace” (65-66). According to Stout, “It was left to Whitefield to become Anglo-America’s first religious celebrity, the symbol for a dawning modern age” (xvi). Whitefield infused religion with modern forms of consumption and helped shift the meaning of “revival” by employing modern notions of epistemology to conversion. Stout concludes that Whitefield was an American icon, a Pauline evangelist, and an American patriot.

Summary

The young Whitefield enjoyed theatre, but scorned secular entertainment after an epiphany at Oxford. As a “boy preacher,” Whitefield harnessed the power of the press to debate Anglican Bishops and publish sermons. While in Georgia, Whitefield continued publishing in the Journal to maintain his religious audience. In the 1730s, Whitefield induced revivals in London, colonial America, and Scotland. He transformed the sermon into “a dramatic event capable of competing for public attention outside the arena of the church—in fact, the marketplace” (66). By 1750, America and Britain experienced the first seeds of a “consumer revolution” (xvii) that focused on the marketplace, manufacturing, capital, and leisure. The new language of consumption did not include religion and “threatened to overtake social discourse” (xviii). Whitefield integrated religious discourse into this language of consumption to show that “preaching could be both edifying and entertaining” (xvi). Whitefield attracted international attention, especially among women, as well as controversy. Samuel Foote satirized Whitefield as Dr. Squintum and criticized his use of theatrics to market religion.

In the 1740s, Whitefield worked to restore relationships with religious authorities and continued his revivalist mission. Stout argues that Whitefield “helped introduce a new concept of religious experience that grew throughout the nineteenth-century into a recognizably ‘evangelical movement’” (xx). This concept of religious experience was grounded in revivals, typified by Whitefield, that were based on personal conversion experiences. Whitefield’s revivals in the mid- eighteenth-century departed from Puritan revivals. This departure resulted from a shift in epistemology. Puritans “denied that conversion could be experienced by those who were ignorant of the theological terms on which it rested. This meant that the teaching function of the church had always received primary interest” (206). Whitefield reversed this emphasis so that “individual experience became the ground for a shared theology” of conversions and, therefore, revival. Stout traces this shift to Lockean epistemology, which focused on sensation and experience: “As sensation represented the only avenue for natural knowledge in Lockean epistemology, so the supernatural experience of New Birth became the sole authentic means to spiritual knowledge in the evangelical revivals” (205). Modern evangelicalism is marked by a shift in the ways Christians experienced conversion and revival. Conversion and revival transformed from “a mysterious, local, communal event to one that was predictable and highly subjective” (xxi). The conversions and revivals of Whitefield were based on individual, personal, and emotional experiences of the supernatural.

Historiography

The Divine Dramatist is an important contribution to the study of American religion. Stout provides a much needed historical account of George Whitefield’s itinerancy. As Stout notes, “Studies of Whitefield have too often abstracted him from the age in which he lived” (xvi). Scholars often present hagiographies of Whitefield, not historical analyses. Stout does much to correct this. However, Stout’s biography may overstate the degree to which Whitefield embodied “American” values. Stout suggests that both Whitefield and Americans “chafed against authority and arbitrary powers” (91). This reading presupposes “the revolutionary spirit” of “Americans.” Many colonial Americans, especially males, supported the white, male hierarchy of the colonies. Women, slaves, and non-landowning males had little political, social, or economic authority and could not challenge established order. A stronger biography might fully situate Whitefield within this hegemonic, Anglo structure. Whitefield was an Anglo-American in the sense that he, like other Anglo-Americans, were British subjects.

Stout also presents Whitefield as the driving force behind the integration of religious discourse into the marketplace. Whitefield is presented as a phenomenon and innovator for his use of media, the marketplace, and modern epistemology. Whitefield is a lone hero who transcended the public sphere and transformed religion: “Only Whitefield thought to transcend denominational lines entirely and, in effect, ply a religious trade in the open air of the marketplace” (xviii). In presenting Whitefield as a hero, Stout borders on elevating Whitefield’s biography to hagiography. To be sure, Whitefield was a popular itinerant preachers who achieved international celebrity. However, as Charles G. Finney remembered in “Measure to Promote Revivals,” Whitefield was not always so popular in British-America. According to Finney, “When Whitefield came to this country, what an astonishing opposition he raised! Often he well nigh lost his life, and barely escaped by skin of his teeth. Now, everybody looks upon him as the glory of the age in which he lived.” Many British-Americans did not recognize Whitefield as an American hero as Stout suggests.

Moreover, as other historians have shown, Whitefield’s tactics were not all that new. He did not initiate preaching outdoors, using the press for religious discourse, or calling for revivals based on personal experience. As David Hall argues in World of Wonder, Days of Judgment, print media were an integral part of popular religion in seventeenth-century New England. Moreover, Sarah Rivett challenges notions that Puritans were not modern. In The Science of the Soul in Colonial New England, Rivett shows how sixteenth and seventeenth-century Puritans employed Lockean epistemology to experience the supernatural for personal conversions. Whitefield was more of a product of his social and historical surroundings than Stout suggests. Nevertheless, Stout’s work remains significant for its recognition of the centrality of media, the marketplace, and modern epistemology to eighteenth-century Anglo-American religion, particularly Whitefield’s evangelism.

25 Mar

John Winthrop, “A Model of Christian Charity” (1630)

John Winthrop was the first governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Winthrop and other Puritans who were dissatisfied with the Church of England set sail for New England in 1630. Roughly 700 Puritans sailed to New England on four ships. Before sailing or during the journey, Winthrop wrote the sermon “A Model of Christian Charity.” The sermon outlined Winthrop’s understanding of the covenant that settlers made with God for the New England community. The covenant should be kept by practicing Christian love. If the covenant was broken by unchristian behavior, God would punish the settlers, and they would die in New England and be forgotten by posterity. Winthrop reminded the Puritans that they were to be a model community for Christians living in England. They were to show the world how true Christians lived and practiced.

Summary

Winthrop argued that God ordered the world so that the conditions of humans were unequal. Some were rich, others poor, and still others were wise, holy, or powerful. This ordering evidenced God’s wisdom and ability to create harmony among diversity through the work of his Spirit. This diversity acted as evidence that people needed one another; they needed the “bonds of brotherly affection.” Given this dependence on others, Winthrop advised that two rules governed humans: justice and mercy. Likewise, two laws governed humans: the Law of Nature and the Law of Grace. The Law of Nature directed humans to love their neighbors as they loved themselves. This meant helping one another in times of need. This Law was given in the state of innocence (before the Fall). The Law of Grace reminded humans of the necessity of the state of regeneracy (conversion and election). This law urged humans to “Do good to all, especially the household of faith.” But, it also called Christians to love their enemies. Above all, this law urged Christians to support their community in extraordinary circumstances. This included, giving, lending, and forgiving debts. Individuals were not save money or goods for posterity when the community was in need. Individuals were to give and lend as if they expected nothing in return. Winthrop advised that a Christian must always be ready to forgive a debt for the good of the community. Sometimes debts would be paid back, but only if an individual had the means.

Winthrop urged the Christians aboard the Arbella to recognize that a Christian community was bound in love and that “Love is the bond of perfection.” Christian love recognized that “true Christians are of one body in Christ.” The ligaments of this body are knit together in love. No body was perfect without its ligaments (members). All parts of the body suffered and celebrated together, all partaking of others’ circumstances. This sensitivity to other members of the body infused a desire in all members to care for one another. Christ, the Apostles, and Paul served as evidence of this practice of love and a bonded perfection. Winthrop argued that this love “Cometh of God and every one that loveth is born of God, so that this love is the fruit of new birth, and none have it but the new creature.” In other words, this type of Christian loves came from conversion and election. Christians exercised this love outwardly through giving, lending, and forgiving. They also practiced it inwardly when they recognized their resemblance to other Christians: “the ground of love is an apprehension of some resemblance in the things loved to that which affects it.” This inward love was like the love a mother felt toward her child. She “conceives a resemblance of herself in it.” Christian love was reciprocal, pleasurable, and married members of the body to one another. This kind of love was real among Christians and necessary to the being of the body of Christ. This love was also divine in that it brought members nearer to God. The presence of this love rested in the love and welfare of the beloved community members.

Winthrop concluded by explaining what this love meant for the Christians travelling to New England. This love was important, first, because “We are a company professing ourselves fellow members of Christ.” Winthrop recognized that in New England many of these settlers would be separated by long distances and trials. The people needed to be bonded by love and “live in the exercise of it, if we would have comfort of our being in Christ.” Without the recognition of Christian love they might forget to love one another and the community. Second, the settlers needed to apply this love because they were seeking out “a place of cohabitation and consortship under a due form of government both civil and ecclesiastical.” This kind of government required a love that recognized the community above the individual. Christian love promoted and supported the Christian community over individual Christians. Third, this love ensured that the end of the community would be to serve the Lord, seek salvation, and make the world a better place in Christ. Fourth, this kind of love, when professed and practiced, was the means for reforming the Church of England. According to Winthrop:

Whatsoever we did, or ought to have done, when we lived in England, the same must we do, and more also, where we go. That which the most in their churches maintain as truth in profession only, we must bring into familiar and constant practice; as in this duty of love, we must love brotherly without dissimulation, we must love one another with a pure heart fervently. We must bear one another’s burdens. We must not look only on our own things, but also on the things of our brethren.  

The practice of Christian love set these Christians apart from their English counterparts. Particularly, Winthrop advised that 1) New England Christians must recognize their marriage to one another in Christ; 2) only those who practiced Christian love would experience election; 3) this Christian community had been given a “special commission” by God “to have it strictly observed in every article.”

This special commission was a covenant made with God. God allowed these Christians to “draw our own articles,” or rules for governance. In doing so, these Christians asked God for his favor and blessing. They would see evidence and God’s support of this covenant, if they landed in New England. According to Winthrop, “Now if the Lord shall please to hear us, and bring us in peace to the place we desire, then hath He ratified this covenant and sealed our commission, and we will expect a strict performance of the articles contained in it.” If New England Christian did not live up to these articles and Christian love, they would be punished by God. If they failed “to embrace this present world and prosecute our carnal desires, seeking great things for ourselves and posterity, the Lord will surely break out in wrath against us, and be revenged of such a people, and make us know the prices of the breach of such a covenant.” New England Christians could avoid God’s wrath, if they practiced justice and mercy, walked with God, worked together as one body, promoted Christian love, and put the community above individuals.

In the last pages, Winthrop defined the goal and meaning of the community. If New England Christians practiced Christian love, they would succeed in their commission. Winthrop promised his listeners: “We shall find that the God of Israel is among us, when ten of us shall be able to resist a thousand of our enemies; when He shall make us a praise and glory that men shall say of succeeding plantations, ‘may the Lord make it like that of New England.’” In other words, the Puritans could recognize their success when posterity remembered the Christians of New England. This was the point of travelling to New England. Puritans did not travel to New England to start their own religion or to start their own country. They did not flee to New England to break ties with Christians of the Church of England. Rather, Winthrop called these Christians to be models, for the community to be city upon a hill:

For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us. So that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken, and so cause Him to withdraw His present help from us, we shall be made a story and a by-word through the world. We shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God, and all professors for God’s sake. We shall shame the faces of many of God’s worthy servants, and cause their prayers to be turned into curses upon us till we be consumed out of the good land whither we are going.

The New England Christians had been commissioned by God to be a model for other Christians. If they failed, they failed God. If they failed, Christianity failed. The lives of the settlers and the existence of Christianity depended on their practice of Christian love. Winthrop closed with this prayer:

Therefore let us choose life,

that we and our seed may live,

by obeying His voice and cleaving to Him,

for He is our life and our prosperity.

The New England community would ignite the reform of Christianity. Settlers to New England hoped that their community would be a model community for other Christians in the Church of England.

 

 

Full text of John Winthrop, “A Model of Christian Charity” (1630) from: http://winthropsociety.com/doc_charity.php.

18 Mar

David D. Hall, Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment (1989)

Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment investigates “popular religion” in seventeenth-century New England. Popular religion recognizes how religion “was embedded in the fabric of everyday life” of lay men and women.[1] Hall argues that popular religion in New England encompassed the clergy as well as laypeople, strict “Puritans” and “horse-shed Christians,” and theology as well as literacy, magic, the meetinghouse, and rituals. Religion in seventeenth-century New England “was a loosely bounded set of symbols and motifs that gave significance to rites of passage and life crises, that infused everyday events with the presence of the supernatural.”[2] The people of New England experienced religion as “a set of practices and situations that offered choice, that remained open-ended.” [3] The diary of Samuel Sewall, a prominent merchant and magistrate from Boston, illustrates the open-ended interpretation of religion experienced by seventeenth-century New Englanders.

Summary

Literacy and the interchangeability of print and oral media “were deeply consequential for popular religion.”[4] The people of seventeenth-century New England were highly literate people who revered the Bible as a commodity, a book, a talisman, and the Word of God. They read religious books, pamphlets, testimonials, and printed sermons. Protestant truths were directly accessible from these printed forms which embodied the Word. Yet, spoken sermons “were as sacred as the printed page” and hearing was like reading.[5] People listened to and annotated sermons which they read afterwards, and read printed sermons purchased from printers. The Word infused spoken and written words so that it conveyed truth in an interchangeable form to listeners and readers. This ideology of truth informed other printed materials that New Englanders read, which included almanacs, dirty books, fiction, tales of wonder, and witchcraft. People put the storylines of theology and popular print to work in popular religion. The “ways they viewed the world were sustained by print culture, and in turning to the books that circulated widely we encounter structure of belief, or as I prefer to say, the stories that lay people knew and used to understand the world.” [6] The market place and print media provided people with alternatives to strict New England Puritanism.

These alternatives emerged in the form of “wonders,” or ghosts, the Devil, trumpets, and the presence of the supernatural. A wonder “was any event people perceived as disrupting the normal order of things—a deformity of nature such as a ‘monster birth,’ a storm or devastating fire. Always, wonders evidenced the will of God.”[7] New Englanders, laypeople and clergy, wrote of these wonders in terms of the meteorology of Greeks and Romans, astrology, apocalyptic prophecy, magic, and natural history. They used wonders to explain the world around them, current events, and to oppose religious and political adversaries. While clergy imposed their own interpretations on some wonders, the sheer abundance of wonders ensured that the “process of interpretation remained open-ended” for laypeople.[8]

The meetinghouse functioned as a site for open-ended religious interpretation. In theory, the meeting house marked sacred space and set the godly community apart. It was a place for conversion testimonies, baptisms, communion, the elect’s governance, and sermons. But, laypeople struggled to meet the ideals of these activities in the meeting house. Many New Englanders never “found the confidence to testify about the work of grace.”[9] As a decrease in testimonials led to crises in membership, clergy called for the Halfway Covenant (1662). Adult non-members were allowed to baptize children to increase the church community. Many parents baptized their children to save them from damnation in case of infant death, not necessarily to tie themselves or their children to the community. Some people, uncertain of their election, refused communion for fear of the clergy’s promises that uncertain members would be punished if they partook in communion.

New Englanders also experienced open-ended religious interpretation in the rituals that occurred outside of church. Rituals of repentance and renewal took place in courts with criminal trials and witch-hunts, at home with deaths, prayers, fasting, and thanksgiving days, and in public places at executions and meetinghouses. A ritual “was a formalized procedure, a patterned means of connecting the natural and the social worlds to supernatural power.”[10] Ritual was a means of seeking order in the natural world by organizing life events and crises.

Historiography

Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment is one of the most significant books in American religious history. Hall applied the notion of “popular religion” (or lived religion) from studies of religion and society in early modern Europe to American religious history. Prior to Hall’s work, Perry Miller’s The New England Mind stood as the most influential work on Puritans in America. Miller presented an intellectual history of Puritanism that focused on the theology and philosophy of the clergy. He argued that Puritanism fostered an intellectual legacy still present in 1939. Hall’s work departs from intellectual histories of Puritans. It looks, instead, to the lay practices at the meetinghouse and in everyday life. Hall refused to represent “the clergy as so dominating the churches that their way of thinking always prevailed.”[11] He also refused to write a history of Puritans. The term “Puritan” assumes “that the people of New England exemplified a total or perfect faith. I want to affirm the legitimacy of horse-shed Christians as well as the legitimacy of stricter patterns of behavior.”[12] Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment presents the ways laypeople agreed and disagreed with clergy. Popular religion “happened in conjunction with much sharing, and with a subtle process of selection between choices that the clergy helped initiate.”[13] Hall’s work moves the study of American religion away from intellectual histories to studies of lived religion. It also takes seriously the place of the occult and magic in religion. It also tried to move the study of Puritanism to the study of Christianity in New England. While the latter was an admirable task, “Puritans” and “Puritanism” remain dominant categories in studies that trace American evangelicalism to New England Puritanism.

This book also revolutionizes how scholars should think about the relationship between the marketplace and media. Hall saw both of these as foundational to New England religion. Printed materials sustained popular religion by circulating material that people used to make sense of their world. Moreover, Hall argued that these printed materials worked differently in New England epistemology. Printed materials and the spoken Word were interchangeable to such a degree that the spoken Word recorded in print form relayed the same concept of truth as the spoken Word. Although Hall did not go so far as to argue it, his notion of interchangeability has significant implications for understanding how New Englanders interpreted conversion testimonies, deathbed scenes, and witchcraft trail proceedings that were transformed into print. For example, oral conversion testimonies revealed the working of God on a human soul. When pastors translated and published these testimonies, the printed form was supposed to relay the same truth that the oral testimony had. Readers were to hear and see the testimony and the testifier through the printed word. The same is true of deathbed narratives. Dying New Englanders provided conversion testimonies at their deathbeds. Many of these testimonies were published for individual consumption. Readers were supposed to see the deathbed, hear the deathbed testimony, and see the manifestation of Christ that the dying saw. The printed word allowed readers to experience and see truth as if they had witnessed the testimony firsthand. Few scholars have taken Hall’s suggestion to its logical end (that printed testimonies and images revealed Truth; they were eyewitness accounts), except Sarah Rivett’s The Science of the Soul in Colonial New England. Moreover, few scholars have recognized the degree to which Hall suggested that media, the marketplace, and culture influenced religion.

While Hall provides many insights for the study of American religion, he may have over-emphasized the open-endedness of New England religion and the power of laypeople to select their own interpretations. New Englanders’ certainly had some agency, but they were also constrained by social, religious, and cultural norms. For examples, people certainly had the power to choose what they read. But, not all people had the ability to access certain books. Some books were too expensive, some not available, and some were deemed too foul. The market place dictated what people could read and when. In this sense, the marketplace exudes a much more powerful force on religion and laypeople than Hall suggests. The constraints of laypersons also comes across in the strict gender roles that New Englanders adhered to. Women and children may have had less of an opportunity for the interpretation of religion than Hall suggests. For example, the clergy coaxed particular knowledge and experience from women who gave conversion testimonies. Many women’s narratives ended in a sense of doubt and uncertainty that many male testimonies did not. The coaxing allowed clergy to frame women’s narratives in a style that they, not the women, deemed appropriate. Nevertheless, Hall’s book remains instrumental for its emphasis on popular religion, and the relationships between religion, magic, media, and the marketplace.

[1] David D. Hall, Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment: Popular Religious Belief in Early New England (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1990), 3.

[2] Ibid., 18.

[3] Ibid., 20.

[4] Ibid., 21.

[5] Ibid., 42.

[6] Ibid., 70.

[7] Ibid., 71–72.

[8] Ibid., 115.

[9] Ibid., 130.

[10] Ibid., 168.

[11] Ibid., 11.

[12] Ibid., 17.

[13] Ibid., 11.