Christian Atheists, Woke Christianity, and the 19th Century as its Antecedent

Having historical perspective can actually change your life, but only as a subset of having eternal perspective; insofar that genuine human history is Christ’s history for us. As such I like to study church history and historical theology, among other histories, in order to gain this sort of perspective; particularly when it comes to ideas. I have been reading through James Ungureanu’s most excellent book (published PhD dissertation) Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of Conflict in order to help me get the sort of historical footing I think is so pivotal towards understanding my place in the stream of ideas and movements thereof. Ungureanu is a historian of science, but with a theological twist. In his book he offers a seismic perspective on how the so-called ‘conflict thesis’ (or warfare thesis) developed between science and religion. What he demonstrates is just how much of this ostensible warfare is really an anachronistic imposition upon the past; i.e. that this so-called conflict, and the people it is typically assigned to, as its progenitors (Draper and White), is fake news. Be that as it may, in order to establish his thesis, James must do the deep-dive archeological work of uncovering the artifacts of history that others have moved quickly past (without making the proper connections etc.).

I want to simply pause and share a morsel of this artifactual work that implicates our current cultural moment, in regard to the socio-politico-religio sitz im laben we inhabit as Christians in the Protestant West. For some reason, most likely because of historical illiteracy among the masses, the Young, Restless, and Progressive seem to think they are engaging in something fresh and new; in regard to the liberal nature of the sort of activist and ‘woke’ Christianity they are attempting to live out in the churches and in the streets of America and across the Western globe. This all has ideational and historical antecedent that I’d propose most are ignorant of. It has already played out before. The young (and the historically ignorant) are simply playing out what has already been played out in the history; and to its adherent’s eternal destruction. Ungureanu writes of what was known as ‘new theology’ (or religion without theology), and its historical landscape this way:

The previous chapters give some indication of the vast changes Christianity experienced during the nineteenth century. Advances in natural and historical sciences, intentional or not, seemed to many a direct assault on traditional Christian belief. Debates about the character of Christian faith raged both inside and outside the church during the century, and out of these debates emerged new ways of thinking about the nature of faith, the historical Jesus, the character and authority of Scripture, the truth of revelation, and the future of religion.

While the nineteenth century was undoubtedly an intensely Christian era, it was also a time of much doubt and disillusionment. As scholar of religion Linda Woodhead has put it, the nineteenth century witnessed the “reinvention” of Christianity. Those who rejected traditional Christian belief, but who claimed to remain theists, often adhered to some form of liberal theology. This new or “reinvented” Christianity was part and parcel of nineteenth-century liberal Protestantism. For the religious liberal, there was an “acute sense of the need for a reformation of Christianity,” an attempt to accommodate Christianity to the modern era. Recognizing that advances in the sciences and historical-critical scholarship had supposedly contradicted established religious ideas, many attempted to ameliorate the emerging malaise by readjusting or reconstructing the meaning of religion. As we have seen, nineteenth-century liberal Protestantism generally responded to higher criticism and scientific naturalism by transforming rather than abandoning the faith. By the last decades of the century, the New Theology or “new religion” movement had found numerous supporters on both sides of the Atlantic.

What this “new” or “freer” religion looked like, however, was deeply contested, as we saw in the previous chapter regarding the “Quadrangular Duel” between Herbert Spencer, Fredric Harrison, James Fitzjames Stephen, and Wilfrid Philip Ward. However the “new religion” was conceived, many men and women in the nineteenth century believed that the reconciliation of science and religion depended on it. One important strategy used by liberal Protestants and religionists at the end of the century was turning “theology” into a pejorative. By contrasting the ideal of a free, progressive scientific inquiry against the authoritative, reactionary methods of theology, religious liberals imagined dogma, not faith, as the true obstacle of modern thought. Conflict occurred, they believed, not between scientific truth and religious truth, but between scientific truth and religious truth, but between contesting theological traditions. If religion would only rid itself of dogmatism and ecclesiastical authority, science and religion would be in harmony. The distinction between, and separation of, religion and theology was thus incredibly important—indeed, everything hinged on it. Many liberal Protestants believed the separation of religion from theology was the best approach to bridging the schism between modern thought and ancient faith, and thus for bringing about reconciliation between science and religion. The separation of religion from theology of course antedates the late nineteenth century. As we discussed earlier, a number of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century thinkers used this distinction in their effort to construct a “rational” or “natural” religion. But the distinction was tainted by a strong anticlerical polemic that largely remained in effect into the next century, when mainstream Protestants were beginning to adopt more modernist ideas. By the late nineteenth century, however, this anti-Catholic polemic has transformed into a Protestant self-critique, and subsequently into the “Protestantism minus Christianity” narrative we have seen in the work of Edward L. Youmans and the scientific naturalists.[1]

Earlier I may have laid too much emphasis on the young, but millennial and younger seem to have taken a certain reception of the mainstream progressive liberalism Ungureanu refers us to. But as noted, all of the ‘new’ developments have been around for many centuries, in their most modern instance, though, as we find it in the 19th century. If you have had any exposure to mainline Protestantism the ‘feeling’ that Ungureanu narrates for us in its historical iteration is a known quantity; in other words, these things are not foreign to you.

One problem with thinking this way is that progressives and the ‘new religion’ seems to think they can escape dogma and ecclesiastical authority. But as should be apparent this sort of movement away from such realities doesn’t actually remove them it only creates a vacuum wherein new dogma and ‘ecclesiastical authority’ emerges; even if it only masquerades as their negations. The issue of dogma and authority isn’t a matter of if there is going to be such components, but whether or not the dogma and authority are good. When we look at how this new religion has been fleshed out in the broader culture today it is clear that in fact a hyper-dogmatic and hyper-authoritarianism has replaced the old dogma and ecclesiastical authority. Wokeness, which is the new religion of today (that finds correspondence with the feeling of the 19th century iteration), has all sorts of dogmas, and authority figures that intend on keeping people in line with their works-righteous and liberating view of salvation.[2] This is what happens when we do a religion minus Christianity; or more pointedly, minus the orthodox and risen Christ who is homoousios.


[1] James Ungureanu, Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of Conflict (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019), 216-17.

[2] Think, Liberation Theology and its neo-Marxist and Critical Theory nexus.

The New Religion of the 19th Century is the American Folk Religion of Today

More from James Ungureanu, on and from president Charles W. Eliot (1834–1926) of Harvard Divinity School on the ‘new [Christian] religion’:

The dramatic advances in the natural and historical sciences convinced Eliot that the new religion of the future will not be based on any external authority, nor on the personifications of the primitive forces of nature, nor on the worship of dead ancestors, teachers, or rulers; it will not be propitiatory, sacrificial, or expiatory, not gloomy, ascetic, or maledictory; it will not perpetuate Hebrew anthropomorphic conceptions of God. Rather, the religion of the future will combine elements of the “Jewish Jehovah, the Christian Universal Father, the modern physicist’s omnipresent and exhaustless Energy, and the biological conception of a Vital Force.” The God of this “new religion” will be called the “Infinite Spirit” in which “we live, and move, and have our being.” God will be conceived as “absolutely immanent in all things.” Concomitantly, the new religion of the future will reject “the entire conception of man as a fallen being, hopelessly wicked, and tending downward by nature.” Future generations will rather find knowledge of God through knowledge itself. Moreover, the new religion will recognize in every great and lovely human person an individual willpower that is the essence of the personality of God. “In this simple and natural faith,” Eliot asserted, “there will be no place for metaphysical complexities or magic rites, much less for obscure dogmas.” For his part, Eliot welcomed the coming new Christian brotherhood.[1]

Do you recognize your Christian religion in all or at least part of this? I see this strewn all over the mass of social media, and concrete life all around. What I often refer to as the American Folk Religion, what many simply take to be Christianity, is what Ungureanu alerts us to by paying attention to Eliot’s thinking in years past. Do you ever wonder if what you’ve been “saved to” is actually the biblical orthodox Christian faith? No. You should maybe wonder that sometimes. If you affirm any of the above in a self-conscious intentional way you are not a Christian in any meaningful sense. Indeed, Eliot’s thought is simply a total negation of what the orthodox and Dogmatically oriented Christian faith has always already maintained and articulated. The Christian faith isn’t a private faith between you and your God, it is a public faith wherein God put Himself on display for the whole world to see on the cross of Jesus Christ. Here he made a public spectacle of the principalities and powers, the powers we are born under as we come into this world. He came to set us free from this through unioning with us that we by grace might union with Him, and become participants in the triune life of the eternal God through adoption and thus co-heirs with Christ. This is the most ‘public’ occurrence that has ever or will ever happen.

If you affirm the new religion, or any part of it: repent.


[1] James Ungureanu, Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of Conflict (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019), 168.

Is America Really a Christian Nation?: The Enlightened ‘Self-Evidently’ Said, No

I am continuing to read through James Ungureanu’s most excellent book Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of Conflict. He hits on something that is pertinent to our societal moment as Americans. It is not the most popular demythologization that we could highlight among evangelical Christians, but it is important nonetheless. Mind you, Ungureanu is making a different point than I am going to make, but it isn’t totally unrelated either. Let me state it as bluntly as possible: America was not a “Christian Nation” in its founding, not exactly. This is not to say that America’s broad ideological bases aren’t funded by the so-called Judeo-Christian framework and value system. But it is to say that that system has more to do with a Unitarian deistic theological doctrinal basis than it does with anything resembling an orthodox Christian understanding of the world. This will not be a full-blown argument for my assertion, but it ought to serve as a placeholder and alerter for anyone interested in pursuing this fact further. Here, Ungureanu is writing about the rationalist (I would say: natural theology) ideology that stood behind three very important American ‘founders’’ thinking in regard to God and nature:

As we have seen, for may nineteenth-century thinkers, theology and revelation could no longer provide a sufficient answer to the question of religion, not only because of the religious disagreements that emerged during the sixteenth century, but also because the physical and historical science seemed to discredit orthodox Christian beliefs. Thus, such questions and their subsequent answers were collected in tracts or studies that followed a “rationalistic” or “naturalistic” approach. As Paine put it, natural religion is the “only religion that has not been invented, and that has in it every evidence of divine originality, is pure and simple deism. It must have been the first, and will probably be the last that man believes.” Other founding fathers concurred. Benjamin Franklin, in a letter to Ezra Stiles (1727–1795), then president of Yale College, expressed himself in the following terms: “you desire to know something of my Religion . . . Here is my Creed. I believe in one God, Creator of the Universe. That he governs it by his Providence. That he ought to be worshipped. That the most acceptable Service we render to him is doing good to his other Children. That the soul of Man is immortal, and will be treated with Justice in another Life respecting its Conduct in this.” When it comes to “revealed religion,” Franklin is clear about his disdain for sectarian differences and for any claims about the truth of the “supernatural” character of religion. Likewise, Thomas Jefferson attests to the prevalence of “natural religion.” In his 1803 letter to Philadelphia scientist, physician, and political leader Benjamin Rush (1726–1813), Jefferson similarly follows Franklin’s descriptions.[1]

This is just among many examples of this sort that could be enumerated in regard to the spirit of ‘naturalism’ that enlightened the days of the founders. I only highlight this because I think Christians need to be honest about the founding of the United States of America. Some of the founders were certainly orthodox, but what that even meant for them was colored by the naturalist mood of the day. It is better to recognize these things so that we avoid insinuating, or straight-out screaming, that America is a Christian nation. If America is a Christian nation, in its founding, then what we mean by ‘Christian’ ought to be tempered by the reality and role that a rationalistic naturalism—that led to Unitarianism and deism—played in establishing the spirit and trajectory of the American experiment.

None of this is to say that America is an inherently evil nation, or that many of the values she is founded on aren’t indeed informed by the Christian religion. But it is to say that America’s understanding of the Christian religion, at its founding, had been watered down by Enlightenment rationalism and a form of natural theology that any orthodox Christian worth their Spirit-filled salt ought to be wary of. Notice the most famed clause in the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.[2]

The notion of ‘self-evident,’ is contra the revealed religion that Christianity is grounded upon in Holy Scripture’s reality in Jesus Christ. The notion of being ‘endowed by their Creator’ fits with the deistic religion noted above in the beliefs maintained by Paine, Franklin, and Jefferson, respectively. Again, none of this is to say that the principles upon which the American nation stands are bereft of anything valuable or even Christian, per se. But it is to say that these “Christian” principles have been modulated by an alien theological framework that is based on man’s reason, rather than God’s Self-revelation. These are important things to bear in mind, particularly for evangelical Christians, because we are too often wont to jump on the concept of manifest destiny and the idea that the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution are inspired by God Himself. If the Christian were to listen to David Barton or Glenn Beck, for example, they might think just the aforementioned; i.e. that America is the ‘new Israel,’ and ‘the shining city on a hill.’ I personally believe that America is an amazing nation, and I am proud as apple pie and baseball to be an American. I just want to hold these truths in hand in order to temper any propensity I might have towards thinking of America from a golden-age that never existed. Soli Deo Gloria  


[1] James Ungureanu, Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of Conflict (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019), 165-66 kindle.

[2] Declaration of Independence.

/Also see The Search for Christian America , editors Noll, Hatch, and Marsden (1989).

American Folk Religion and Political Identity

What I like to call American Folk Religion is a real thing. It transcends the socio-political demarcations and can be found on both sides and everywhere. It might be hidden behind facades of orthodoxy, or even heterodoxy; but it remains a pervasive reality. It is the religion of the American masses, one rooted in a history of ideas. John Webster describes this well as he sketches how pre-Nazi and Nazi Germany looked through Barth’s lights and theology:

A large part of Barth’s distaste is his sense that the ethics of liberal Protestantism could not be extricated from a certain kind of cultural confidence: ‘[H]ere was … a human culture building itself up in orderly fashion in politics, economics, and science, theoretical and applied, progressing steadily along its whole front, interpreted and ennobled by art, and through its morality and religion reaching well beyond itself toward yet better days.’ The ethical question, on such an account, is no longer disruptive; it has ‘an almost perfectly obvious answer’, so that, in effect, the moral life becomes too easy, a matter of the simple task of following Jesus.

Within this ethos, Barth also discerns a moral anthropology with which he is distinctly ill-at-ease. He unearths in the received Protestant moral culture a notion of moral subjectivity (ultimately Kantian in origin), according to which ‘[t]he moral personality is the author both of the conduct with which the ethical question is concerned and of the question itself. Barth’s point is not simply that such an anthropology lacks serious consideration of human corruption, but something more complex. He is beginning to unearth the way in which this picture of human subjectivity as it were projects the moral self into a neutral space, from which it can survey the ethical question ‘from the viewpoint of spectators’. This notion Barth reads as a kind of absolutizing of the self and its reflective consciousness, which come to assume ‘the dignity of ultimateness’. And it is precisely this — the image of moral reason as a secure centre of value, omnicompetent in its judgements — that the ethical question interrogates.[1]

While America (and the world) is in the midst of the current socio-political upheaval that we are I think what Webster is noting in regard to Barth’s understanding of the German mind (of his day) ought to serve as a cautionary tale for us today. No matter where we are situated in this moment, politically, and I’ve made it no secret about where I stand, it is always important to bear in mind that as Christians we ought to be under God’s Word; and importantly, we ought to avoid conflating God’s Word with the culture’s or our own—no matter how noble our perceived right might be. Remember, as Jesus said: ‘only God is good.’

But to press down further into how this sort of mode, that was present in Germany, has taken shape in our day, James Ungureanu offers a helpful sketch of what might be identified as American transcendentalism. You’ll notice, as you read Ungureanu how the American religion has roots in the German background (of the sort that Barth was critical of). James writes:

Rooted in European liberal Protestant ideas, American liberalism began as a distinctive movement in American thought with the emergence of Unitarianism and transcendentalism in the early nineteenth century. Theological Unitarianism, or the belief in the oneness of God, began in seventeenth-century England and was adopted by eighteenth-century American liberal theologians. But the rational religion advocated by the founders of the republic was eventually combined with such romantic movements as transcendentalism.

The transcendentalists had imbibed German idealism, avoided religious institutions, and preferred informal fellowship through intellectual and literary pursuits. They emphasized the presence of divinity within each human being. This divinity powered the self and was best fostered without the external control of religious institutions. Consequently, American transcendentalists encouraged individuals to pursue spiritual truth on their own. While seventeenth- and eighteenth-century liberal Protestants focused on the “inner light” of reason, liberal Protestants of the new theology looked to emotions as the final source of religious authority. Their primary religious focus was on the immanence of God, the notion that God’s presence pervaded all things.[2]

Some have identified this as a neo-Gnosticism, but whatever the designation of this American Folk Religion, it is pervasive and grounded in a turn-to-the-subject mode of being. My concern is that no matter how noble the cause, no matter how conservative or progressive, that people from all around, because of their socio-political identity, might presume that they are eternally justified before God as proven by their good [political and social] works. My concern is such adherents see themselves as ‘saved’ because of the measure of their passion for what they perceive to be the good and the beautiful. But only God is good. And insofar as people cannot discern God’s Word from their own, such people have been taken captive by Babylon rather than the Kingdom of Christ. Obtaining this sort of discernment requires much sweat and blood before the living God. Kyrie eleison


[1] John Webster, Barth’s Moral Theology: Human Action in Barth’s Thought, 35-6.

[2] James Ungureanu, Science, Religion, and the Protestant Tradition: Retracing the Origins of the Conflict (Pennsylvania: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019), 154-55 kindle. Â