As with anything in history, the reaction of churches and churchmen to the impending and ongoing Revolution is situated in a much longer American religious history. From their very outset, the colonies that would become the US have deeply entwined religion with war: Protestantism and liberty were (argued to be) twin virtues inherited from England. Various foils represented absolutism and tyranny (Catholics, esp. the French kings and Popes) or barbarity and… well… more tyranny (Native American Indians). So any time the colonists were fighting a war, be it King Phillip’s/Metacom’s War in the late 17th century or the French and Indian War in the mid-18th century, you can be fairly sure that religion was involved in the ethos. Importantly, to say that religion was the reason for war misses the point: religion changed the tenor of how people made sense of war. Protestantism represented to the colonists a certain freedom of belief (though this idea depends circularly upon logics that themselves are Protestant, like that religion is a matter of individual conscience) that was associated with parliamentary democracy and, by extension, the English way of life. Of course, as you may remember, many of the first and early colonists were fleeing religious persecution, so a charge of a certain degree of cognitive dissonance is not unfounded. Nonetheless, the “superstition” of American Indians and Catholics alike becomes associated with religion’s being concentrated into the hands of a few. Depictions from the time of both groups rely on a narrative of believers who are fooled by charlatans who hide the tools of religion from the laypeople. John Adams, in one of his letters to Abigail during the Constitutional Convention, describes the “Romish church” in Philadelphia as filled with people completing wild gesticulations and speaking basically in tongues (i.e. Latin), with no idea what they’re saying or why it’s important, in front of a lavish golden altar, etc. The way he paints the picture is almost laughable.

These rampant prejudices aside, the colonies themselves began to represent to the colonists a persistently beloved US-American ideal, the marketplace of (Protestant) ideas: Congregationalists, Presbyterians, Quakers, Anglicans, Baptists, Methodists, etc. could all find homes in the colonies, ostensibly with at least some degree of freedom of belief.

But the changing tides leading up to the Revolutionary War begin to change that. The foil that represents tyranny begins to become the English king and thus the Church of England. Now, notably, even many of those leading the “revolution” are desperately looking for an out to avoid war and stay a part of Britain. Many more or less want a return to the way things were before the French and Indian War, which had emptied the coffers of the British war chest (a part of a much-larger and arguably the first World War). But as the King and Parliament increasingly crack down on the colonists and demand more money for the colonies’ defense, especially against the hotbed of the revolution, Massachusetts, the churches play a huge role in drumming up support for the war.

A key factor in this is the growing feeling that the Church of England is seeking to consolidate its power on the continent and, perhaps, establish itself as the sole official church of the colonies. The Church of England still has much in common with the Catholic Church, at least in appearances (oftentimes opulent cathedrals, elaborate dress, extensive hierarchical episcopal organization, etc.). Coming hot off the heels of the First Great Awakening, much of American Christianity is becoming increasingly focused on personal salvation and direct experiences of religion. This is quite alarming to men like Charles Woodmason, an Anglican minister in the colonies in the mid-18th century. He lays out pretty precisely the middle-road the Church of England painted itself as walking in the colonies, but his harsh language towards the religious folkways developing in the colony sheds light on why the Church was losing favor: “hereby you will discover the beauty, harmony, and structure of the Church of England, and how correspondent all her precepts and institutions are to the simplicity of the Gospel and spirt of Christianity. She keeps the balance between the 2 Ephesians—popery and bigotry on the one hand and Presbytery, schism, enthusiasm, and hypocrisy on the other…. Remember that this is the church… which is the principle bulwark in Europe against Popery, this is the lawful authority settled and established in this colony. And therefore if there be any obedience due to any command of the legislature, Communion with our Church is a duty.” One can imagine how this would sound to the colonists, and the fodder it would provide to pro-revolution laymen and churchmen alike.

George Whitefield, the closest thing to a televangelist (in his reach) of his day, had spent much of the 1740s and 50s holding revivals and writing extensively on the nascent Methodist movement. Whitefield lent his support in various ways to the budding revolutionary movement, lending huge credibility in the eyes of many clergy and laymen alike. Churchmen of various sects, especially Congregationalists but including some portion of virtually every Protestant denomination in the colonies, similarly played an instrumental role in tying religious and political freedom directly together, making the Revolutionary War a holy one. Ministers had a captive audience for an hour a week (more often less because of the distance many had to travel), and the majority were in favor of war. Notable, too, is that the idea of the chaplain was really maturing by the French and Indian War, so many ministers had themselves fought and ministered to other soldiers. Indeed, this trend would continue and the existence of a formal body of chaplains would later be used by SCOTUS to rule in favor of chaplaincy’s constitutionality in the US Army (arguing that the founding fathers must not have perceived it to be a violation of Church and State, and they wrote the constitution, so it must be constitutional). As might be expected, Anglicans were often associated with support for the crown, though even they were far from universally so. On the whole, the churches of the American colonies were a driving force behind uniting the colonists against the British crown.

To turn to one notable example of a church’s response, we have the Quakers. The Religious Society of Friends was concentrated in Pennsylvania at this time, but had many “meetings” (basically local congregations) in New Jersey and parts of the northern South, with smaller numbers scattered throughout the colonies. The Quakers present an interesting case because they are in a situation not unlike the US in the World Wars before it entered—ostensible neutrality but fiscal support for one side. Quakerism was historically interpreted as staunchly pacifistic, and much of their history in Pennsylvania was spent preventing war with local Indian groups, but the Revolution presented a particularly difficult decision for many Quakers. Their religion has a uniquely democratic spirit, requiring unanimity in the meeting for major decisions, for example, and they had no sympathies for the Anglican Church after more than a century of persecution at its hands. Most meetings maintained an official position of neutrality in the conflict, risking persecution from locals of both sides of the war, and they were here the source of early calls for “conscientious objector” status, most famously on their behalf by Benjamin Franklin. Many young men who did fight were disowned by their meetings (think excommunication but by your whole community’s decision, not a pope or bishop). Some meetings even broke into two groups because of the issue. However, especially Philadelphia-area Quakers were often well-off and owned large businesses. They were instrumental in early boycotts and other economic interventions, and they often provided great material support in one way or another, even when they did not officially join the war effort.

And this gets to a final broader relationship between religion and war in the US: war fuels denominational discord. The lead-up to the US Civil War, in fact, splits many of the largest denominations into two or more groups, many of which never reconciled or only did in the past few decades. American Protestantism (and arguably other religious groups) is built on denominationalism, and who picks what side often plays a part in the success or failure of various churches. More broadly, wherever there has been war in the US (and no generation has not seen armed conflict in the US or the Colonies), religion has played a central role in understanding war.

Sources: Adams, Charles Francis. Familiar Letters of John Adams and His Wife Abigail Adams, During the Revolution: With a Memoir of Mrs. Adams. New York: Hurd and Houghton, 1876. 45-47.

Bacon, Margaret Hope. The Quiet Rebels: The Story of the Quakers in America. Philadelphia: New Society Publishers, 1985.

Hamm, Thomas. The Transformation of American Quakerism. New York: Columbia University Press, 2003.

Preston, Andrew. Sword of Spirit, Shield of Faith: Religion in American War and Diplomacy. New York: Anchor Books, 2012.

Woodmason, Charles. “I Cor. 4 v. 40 Let All Things Be Done Decently and in Order.” In American Religions: A Documentary History, edited by R. Marie Griffith, 109-15. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.