A reader sent me a very interesting reflection about Abraham Lincoln, Pope Francis, and what folks today call "messaging." With permission, I am posting it here at Mirror of Justice:
It seems to me like there is an apt analogy to Pope
Francis's change in messaging (not doctrine) within American political
history.
I'm reminded of Lincoln's speech to the Washington
Temperance Society. He pointed out, "The cause itself seems suddenly
transformed from a cold abstract theory, to a living, breathing, active, and
powerful chieftain, going forth 'conquering and to conquer.' The citadels of
his great adversary are daily being stormed and dismantled; his temple and his
altars, where the rites of his idolatrous worship have long been performed, and
where human sacrifices have long been wont to be made, are daily desecrated and
deserted. The trump of the conqueror's fame is sounding from hill to hill, from
sea to sea, and from land to land, and calling millions to his standard at a
blast." Not too different from the pro-life movement today.
Ultrasounds and CPCs transform the unborn "from a cold abstract
theory" to "living, breathing, active" humans. We are
storming and dismantling abortion clinics where human sacrifices are
made. Public opinion trumpets increasing support for the Catholic
position "from hill to hill, from sea to sea, and from land to land".
But Lincoln didn't provide a therapeutic speech to his audience. He
called upon them to consider why "that success is so much greater now
than heretofore" and attributes it to "rational causes".
He encourages them that "if we would have it continue, we shall do
well to inquire what those causes are." He then lays into a
significant part of the temperance movement, saying that the "old
school" had in fact set back the gains. Their method was wrong.
"Too much denunciation against dram sellers and dram drinkers was indulged
in" which was both "impolitic and unjust".
The old school used "thundering tones of anathema and denunciation,
with which the lordly Judge often groups together all the crimes of the felon's
life, and thrusts them in his face just ere he passes sentence of death upon
him, that they were the authors of all the vice and misery and crime in
the land; that they were the manufacturers and material of all the
thieves and robbers and murderers that infested the earth; that their
houses were the workshops of the devil; and that their persons should be
shunned by all the good and virtuous, as moral pestilences". Lincoln
calls it impolitic "to have expected them not to meet denunciation
with denunciation, crimination with crimination, and anathema with
anathema" because that would be "to expect a reversal of human
nature, which is God's decree, and never can be reversed." The old
school was unjust because they argued "that all habitual drunkards were
utterly incorrigible, and therefore, must be turned adrift, and damned without
remedy, in order that the grace of temperance might abound to the temperate then,
and to all mankind some hundred years thereafter". This
is "so uncharitable, so cold-blooded and feelingless... so fiendishly
selfish, so like throwing fathers and brothers overboard, to lighten the boat
for our security" that a noble mind shrinks from the "manifest
meanness of the thing".
In contrast, there was the new temperance movement: the "victim
of intemperance" who "appears before his neighbors 'clothed, and in
his right mind,' a redeemed specimen of long-lost humanity, and stands up with
tears of joy trembling in his eyes, to tell of the miseries once
endured, now to be endured no more forever; of his once naked and
starving children, now clad and fed comfortably; of a wife long weighed down
with woe, weeping, and a broken heart, now restored to health, happiness, and a
renewed affection; and how easily it is all done, once it is resolved to be
done; how simple his language, there is a logic, and an eloquence in it, that
few, with human feelings, can resist." Their methods are just.
"They go for present as well as future good. They labor
for all now living, as well as all hereafter to live. They
teach hope to all -- despair to none. As applying to their
cause, they deny the doctrine of unpardonable sin. As in Christianity it
is taught, so in this they teach, that 'While the lamp holds out to
burn, The vilest sinner may return.'"
Now take Lincoln's speech and use it as a lens through which to view Pope
Francis. Just like Lincoln, he's not stopped decrying the target of the
rhetoric (abortion for Francis, alcohol for Lincoln), but he's been calling for moderation
in the rhetoric. Just as with Lincoln, it's not all that off based to
suggest that we could use some moderation. A quick run through the
comboxes on traditionalist/conservative Catholic blogs or the rhetoric used in
fundraising e-mails by Catholic political organizations makes plain the
sentiment that the President is utterly incorrigible, without remedy, and that
the White House is the workshop of the devil. That sort of language is
over the top and both impolitic and unjust, as Lincoln believed. That's
not to say it's always the case that pro-lifers use that language in every
case, but that we use it in too often a case. It's something I think Pope
Francis sees, too.
Go back to his interview for Jesuit magazines. He said, "We
cannot insist only on issues related to abortion, gay marriage and the use of
contraceptive methods. This is not possible. I have not spoken much about these
things, and I was reprimanded for that. But when we speak about these issues,
we have to talk about them in a context." This was immediately
preceeded by a discussion of a post-abortive woman who regrets the abortion and
now has a large family. He wants us to realize the context in which our
listeners exist. The woman who has come to sincerely regret her abortion
and embrace life is Lincoln's "redeemed specimen of long-lost
humanity" who is "restored to health, happiness, and a renewed
affection." But if we seek to have more people like that, we must be
in the new school which seeks to draw people in rather than divide them and
condemn the opposition. Incorporate into the discussion Pope Francis's
General Audience of 25 September and see how he condemns gossip as the source
of disunity. Like Lincoln, this is a man very conscious of words and their
power. He wants that power used wisely.
Turning then to the American context, we'd do
well to do a better job of self-policing. We build up echo chambers of
mutual reinforcement rather than reproaching ourselves. We scarcely
recall the phrase that Pope Francis uses often: "I am a
sinner." We may see ourselves less as the older brother and more as
the younger if we kept in mind the log pole in our own eyes. But this is
uncomfortable. So just as the Church under Benedict and John Paul II made
many people on the left uncomfortable, perhaps its good that the right now
feels uncomfortable as well. It may make us grow in new areas and be more
cognizant of other parts of the Christian life in which we must take
action.
Good intentions, aspirational ideas, holy motives cannot
be translated into real progress for the common good or the advancement of God's Kingdom without a plan.
Whether one is a
lawyer or law student working for social justice, a minister promoting a new
apostolate, a social worker empowering the impoverished, an educator enlightening
a class, or, yes, an elected member of the polity advancing a political agenda, one must have a
plan. And that plan must include a realistic assessment of the prospects for success and how the
plan will come not only to a climax but to a conclusion.
In Chapter 6 of the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus tells his
followers:
'That is why I am telling you not to worry
about your life and what you are to eat, nor about your body and what you are
to wear. Surely life is more than food, and the body more than clothing!
26 Look at the birds in the sky. They do not
sow or reap or gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you
not worth much more than they are?
27 Can any of you, however much you worry, add
one single cubit to your span of life?
28 And why worry about clothing? Think of the
flowers growing in the fields; they never have to work or spin;
29 yet I assure you that not even Solomon in
all his royal robes was clothed like one of these.
30 Now if that is how God clothes the wild
flowers growing in the field which are there today and thrown into the furnace
tomorrow, will he not much more look after you, you who have so little faith?
31 So do not worry; do not say, "What are
we to eat? What are we to drink? What are we to wear?"
32 It is the gentiles who set their hearts on
all these things. Your heavenly Father knows you need them all.
33 Set your hearts on his kingdom first, and on
God's saving justice, and all these other things will be given you as well.
34 So do not worry about tomorrow: tomorrow will
take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.'
Some over the ages have miscontrued this passage to mean that
good intentions and prayerful resolve are all that a follower of Christ needs
for any venture. Evangelicals are wont to describe a person with that attitude as "so Heavenly minded that he is of no earthly good."
Jesus was speaking about inward-focused worry, that is,
selfish pursuits of material things and especially about how those who become
obsessed with these things are then torn by anxiety for the future. Worry, particularly for selfish reasons, may
be a sin. But planning remains a must.
Keeping our focus on God and recognizing that all else must be subordinated to God’s
Kingdom is not an invitation to ignore the future consequences of our actions
in this life.
As the nineteenth century Anglican Bishop of Liverpool, J.
C. Ryle explains this passage, “Prudent provision for the future is right;
wearing, corroding, self-tormenting anxiety is wrong.”
Let
us pray that “prudent provision for the future” will become the watchword for
our leaders, in government as well as in ministry.
In 1800 when Ellsworth was on a diplomatic mission to France, he explained his understanding of human nature in a revealing conversation with Comte de Volney, a French philosopher. After Volney outlined a comprehensive plan for reorganizing the government of France, Ellsworth remarked, "there is one thing Mr. Volney for which you have made no provision . . . The Selfishness of Man." This pessimistic view of human nature is little more than a restatement of the doctrine of original sin that pictured humankind as inherently depraved. Even the phraseology is taken from the New Divinity that defined sin exclusively in terms of selfishness. For example, Joseph Bellamy wrote in his principal work, "From this same root--this disposition to love ourselves supremely, live to ourselves ultimately, and delight in that which is not God wholly--proceeds all our evil carriage toward our neighbor."
At first glance this doctrine of inherent depravity would seem to present an insurmountable obstacle to good government. After all, governors are themselves men. Therefore government would seem to be inevitably depraved. The Calvinists avoided this logical conclusion by invoking what was literally a deus ex machina. Government officials were not ordinary men. They were part of God's predestined plan, and they were selected by God to rule over men. This idea of divine selection was a common idea among Connecticut Calvinists and harmonized the apparent conflict between original sin and good government.
That Ellsworth embraced this idea of divine rule is evident in a closed 1789 senate debate in which, according to a fellow senator:
Ellsworth . . . got on the subject of Kings. Declared that the Sentence in the Primer ofFear God and honor King was of great importance that Kings were of divine appointment, that Saul the head & shoulders taller than the rest of the people was elected by God and anointed by his appointment.
This apparent reference to the divine right of kings should not be taken literally. If Ellsworth was a monarchist, he surely would not have espoused monarchy on the floor of the senate in 1789. He simply was too good a politician to commit such a gaffe. When Connecticut Calvinists used biblical verse to discuss government, they frequently used "king" as a generic word to signify government or government official. Therefore Ellsworth was saying that government officials--at least some of them--were "elected by God and anointed by his appointment."
This Calvinist idea of a Righteous Ruler explains many aspects of Ellsworth's public character. He clearly was an elitist who undoubtedly viewed himself as having been handpicked by God. He clearly sought to foster a righteous Calvinist order, and he undoubtedly viewed his opponents as unregenerate sinners. At the same time, we will see that Bellamy's The Wisdom of God permitted him to accept compromises and to work with fellow politicians who, according to Calvinist theology, were depraved.
[Casto, Oliver Ellsworth and the Creation of the Federal Republic at 24-25]
I welcome pointers toward sources that would assist in further understanding this account of government. Did Calvinists like Ellsworth rely on a deus ex machina, or is there more to the account than that? Would the idea of a righteous ruler have extended to judges in a system of separated powers? Or would it have been limited to those who could exercise will rather than judgment within their office?
I have a new paper here on the libertas Ecclesiae. The aim of the paper is to challenge Catholics (and others) not to settle for the incessant cant about "religious freedom." My argument is that, in light of the Catholic doctrine that "creation was for the sake of the Church" (CCC 760), questions of "religious freedom" must be subordinated to the rights of the Church. The contingent constitution of the state must be conformed to the given constitution of the Church, not the other way around.
I am in Evanston for a conference and thought to pay a visit to a favorite old used bookstore that
I had enjoyed several years ago, "Bookman's Alley." The store is truly a treasure, full of surprises, and complete with a wonderfully surly owner. I took a shot of the old storefront (which is tucked away down the alley) and here's also a picture of part of a lovely collection of the complete works of Thackeray--some thirty odd volumes of his writing, all in disorder.
To my great regret, I discovered upon entering that Bookman's is closing down after more than three decades. I see from this story last year that plans for Bookman's closing have been in the works for some time. But it seemed from the melancholy mood of the store (and from the 70% discount) that the end is nigh.
I wanted to honor the store by buying a few things, even though I never relish the thought of carrying back
books on a plane (I resisted the Thackeray feast...I would have carried it all the way home, and then who knows when, if ever, I would have read it?). Instead, I found a few smaller things, including an old edition of Carl Becker's skeptical classic, The Heavenly City of the Eighteenth Century Philosophers, delivered as the Storrs Lecture in 1931 and still remarkable in several respects (one of which, I think, is the informality and easiness of the writing).
Becker's short tract is a masterpiece of critical commentary on what we would today call the relationship of "secularism" and "civil religion." Here's something from the fourth and final lecture, "The Uses of Posterity," which will perhaps be of interest to those who are now reading Ronald Dworkin's recently published, posthumous volume, "Religion Without God":
Nearly a century ago De Tocqueville noted the fact that the French Revolution was a "political revolution which functioned in the manner and which took on in some sense the aspect of a religious revolution." Like Islamism or the Protestant revolt, it overflowed the frontiers of countries and nations and was extended by "preaching and propaganda." It functioned,
in relation to this world, in precisely the same manner that religious revolutions function in respect to the other: it considered the citizen in an abstract fashion, apart from particular societies, in the same way that religions consider man in general, independently of time and place. It sought not merely the particular rights of French citizens, but the general political rights and duties of all men. [Accordingly] since it appeared to be more concerned with the regeneration of the human race than with the reformation of France, it generated a passion which, until then, the most violent political revolutions had never exhibited. It inspired proselytism and gave birth to propaganda. It could therefore assume that appearance of a religious revolution which so astonished contemporaries; or rather it became itself a kind of new religion, an imperfect religion it is true, a religion without God, without a form of worship, and without a future life, but one which nevertheless, like Islamism, inundated the earth with soldiers, apostles, and martyrs.
L'ancien régime et la Révolution, Bk I, ch.3 [emphasis mine]. De Tocqueville's contemporaries were too much preoccupied with political issues and the validity of traditional religious doctrines to grasp the significance of his pregnant observations. Not until our own time have historians been sufficiently detached from religions to understand that the Revolution, in its later stages especially, took on the character of a crusade. But it is now well understood...not only that the Revolution attempted to substitute the eighteenth-century religion of humanity for the traditional faiths, but also that, contrary to the belief of De Tocqueville, the new religion was not without God, forms of worship, or a future life. On the contrary, the new religion had its dogmas, the sacred principles of the Revolution--Liberté et sainte égalité. It had its form of worship, an adaptation of Catholic ceremonial, which was elaborated in connection with its civic fêtes. It had its saints, the heroes and martyrs of liberty. It was sustained by an emotional impulse, a mystical faith in humanity, in the ultimate regeneration of the human race.
I just posted to SSRN a paper titled Why Capital Punishment Violates the Constitutional Law of the United States. The paper is available here. If my argument misfires, where does it misfire?
This is the abstract:
I explain in this paper why we are warranted in concluding
that capital punishment—punishing a criminal by killing him—is both “cruel” and
“unusual” within the meaning of the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and
unusual punishments” and therefore violates the constitutional law of the
United States. In setting the stage for
that explanation, I discuss the internationally recognized human right not to
be subjected to any punishment (or other treatment) that is “cruel, inhuman or
degrading”. When I turn to the question
of the original understanding of the Cruel and Unusual Punishments Clause of
the Eighth Amendment, I discuss the important work of John Stinneford,
explaining why I concur in Stinneford’s conclusion about the original understanding
of “cruel” but dissent from his conclusion about the original understanding of
“unusual”.
Here is Jeff Rosen's helpful and I think fair review of Clarke Forsythe's new book -- "Abuse of Discretion" -- on the Roe decision. Here's a bit:
. . . "Abuse of Discretion" provides a cautionary tale about the political and constitutional hazards of unnecessarily broad Supreme Court decisions. . . .
Justice Ginsburg has said that the court should have ruled more narrowly in Roe, striking down the extreme Texas law while leaving it up to the states to debate the precise contours of the right to choose. Mr. Forsythe agrees that a narrower ruling could have allowed the debate to continue while participants observed how public health was affected in the 13 states that allowed abortion under certain circumstances. A wiser and more restrained approach, in other words, might have been "wait and see."
Mr. Forsythe is especially critical of the Supreme Court for deciding Roe on an incomplete factual record, with no trials or evidence in the lower courts or examination of medical evidence. "Courts should not formulate rules of constitutional law broader than required by the facts," Mr. Forsythe concludes. Today liberals criticize conservative justices for delivering overly broad decisions in cases like Citizens Unitedv. Federal Election Commission, which struck down campaign-finance restrictions on corporate spending, and Shelby County v. Holder, which struck down a key provision of the Federal Voting Rights Act. Mr. Forsythe's book is a useful chronicle of the most prominent case in the past 40 years when the shoe was on the other foot.
Again, I think the review is well done, and I'm very happy for Mr. Forsythe, who has been working hard on this important project. I do have one minor quibble / question regarding the review, though. Rosen writes:
The most surprising omission in this book is that Mr. Forsythe fails to discuss in any detail the transformative impact of Gonzales v. Carhart, the 2007 decision by the Supreme Court upholding the federal partial-birth abortion law, which doesn't contain a health exception and allows restrictions on abortion both before and after fetal viability. The Gonzales case, which Americans United for Life has invoked in defending current laws that restrict abortions throughout pregnancy, calls into question Mr. Forsythe's claim that the U.S. today is one of only four nations allowing abortion "for any reason after fetal viability."
But, the partial-birth-abortion law (if I remember correctly) restricts post-viability abortions of a certain type, not abortion itself. So, it doesn't seem to me that the Court's decision undermines Clarke's claim about America's outlier status in terms of allowing abortions after viability. Still, as Rosen writes, the longer-term effects of the decision remain to be seen.
Kevin Walsh’s post (here) on the bell and clock tower at the
Cathedral of St. Louis in New Orleans made me think of my own parish, Saints Peter
& Paul in Naperville, Illinois. In February of
this year the parish welcomed a newly cast bell. Like the bell christened “Victoire” in New
Orleans, our new bell was “baptized” – blessed by Joliet’s auxiliary bishop,
Joseph Siegel, and named the “Mother of God” bell (here). A picture of the bell appears above (that is
my son’s head in the Union Jack hat in the foreground).
In the late 1990s, to mark the new millennium, the City of
Naperville decided to construct a carillon and tower near the city’s downtown. The project was late and over budget (here)
but was eventually completed. With the
carillon Naperville can now boast of being home to the fourth largest musical
instrument in North America (here).
When it was originally proposed I remember thinking “Why do
we need a bell tower when we already have one?”
Of course the “we” is different – the political community did not have a
bell tower whereas the Catholic community of faith already did. And the bells of Saints Peter & Paul
parish ring out for all, marking the hours accented by the melody of hymns,
while the city carillon, though lovely, chimes a different tune.
In many communities there are some – whether a-religious or
anti-religious – who seek to silence the bells of churches (see here, here, here and
here).
At Saints Peter & Paul the “Mother of God” bell now
accompanies the “Saint Bernard” bell and the “Saints Peter and Paul” bell in
the church steeple, calling the faithful to prayer and reminding everyone who have
ears to hear (cf. Matt. 11:15) that
there is something else, something beyond themselves – a horizon of existence
beyond immediate sense perception. For
when the bell tolls it reminds us that the “secular” is only that – of the
times. But there is time beyond time
where “one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day” (2
Peter 3:8). But it is in the here and now that we seek to "work out our salvation" (cf. Phil. 2:12) through love of God and neighbor.
Kevin’s post reminds us that the Establishment Clause has
not always meant what it means today.
The clock and bell tower in New Orleans stands in sharp relief to the
theme of strict separationism and the naked public square.
The truth is that we do not need the government to pay for
our bells to be cast or to build our churches and other sanctuaries. What we need is the freedom to live our faith
– to ring the bells not only from our steeples, but in our schools, universities,
hospitals, and charities – in the corporal works of mercy that we seek to
perform “for the least of these” (cf.
Matt. 25:40).
That is the headline from a BLT post today reporting that "[a] Catholic priest claiming he was barred from ministering at a U.S. Navy base because of the government shutdown is suing the Department of Defense, claiming violations of his First Amendment rights" (and RFRA, one should also note). According to the complaint, "[p]laintiffs seek a preliminary and permanent injunction preventing government interference with religious services by military chaplains to their congregants. Plaintiffs further seek a declaratory judgment that the Anti-Deficiency Act as applied to the sermons and counseling of the United States Military Chaplains violates the Free Speech, Free Association, and Free Exercise Clauses of the First Amendment of the United States Constitution and the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993." Plaintiffs are represented by Thomas More Law Center, which has issued a press release about the case (including a photo of what looks to be a sign on the chapel door).
41. The doors to the Kings Bay Chapel were locked on October 4, 2013, with the Holy Eucharist, Holy water, Catholic hymn books, and vessels all locked inside. Father Leonard and his parishioners, including Fred Naylor, were prohibited from entering.
42. The Department of Defense placed a sign outside of the Kings Bay Chapel stating that due to the government shutdown, there will be no Catholic Services until further notice.
43. The Kings Bay Chapel remains open to other faiths and is being used for their religious services. The Department of Defense has allowed the Protestant community to continue their services in the chapel during the government shutdown, without threat of penalty.
The chapel was locked but only for Catholics? Or is the chapel being used, but only for Protestant services because those are supplied by on-payroll chaplains instead of contractors?
The complaint also alleges that the cancellation of on-base Mass and confessions, among other things, effectively means that some base personnel cannot attend Mass or confession because of timing and other difficulties associated with attending the parish in town eight miles away. That sounds like a substantial burden on the exercise of religion, and it is hard to see how the government would satisfy strict scrutiny, so the RFRA claim may succeed. A better plaintiff would probably be one of the individuals who is now unable to attend Mass. But if Fr. Leonard is not even permitted on base to hear individual confessions, for example (see paragraph 40 of the complaint), his own exercise of religion is substantially burdened. The RFRA claim is in Count I of the complaint. The next three counts assert free exercise, free assembly, and free speech claims. I am not familiar enough with the background of how the military supplies chaplains in order to have confidence in a legal analysis about those claims without learning more. (On special problems relating to access to military bases and the First Amendment, see United States v. Albertini, 472 U.S. 675 (1985)).I do wonder, though, about the interpretation of the Pay Our Military Act described in the complaint at paragraphs 51-52:
51. The Secretary of Defense issued a statement on October 5, 2013, providing guidance for the implementation of the Pay Our Military Act and “instructions for identifying those civilian personnel within the Department who ‘are providing support to members of the Armed Forces’ within the meaning of the Act. Secretary of Defense, October 5, 2013 Mem. available at http://www.defense.gov/pubs/POMA-implementation-guidance.pdf last visited Oct. 14, 2013.
52. The Memorandum states that after consulting with the Department of Justice, the Department of Defense reads the Pay Our Military Act’s standard of “support to members of the Armed Forces” to “require[ ] a focus on those employees whose responsibilities contribute to the morale, well-being, capabilities, and readiness of covered military members during the lapse of appropriations.” Id.; see Dept. of Defense Press Release, October 5, 2013, Statement by Secretary Hagel on the Pay Our Military Act, available at http://www.defense.gov/Releases/ReleaseID=16293 last visited Oct. 11, 2013.
Why wouldn't the chaplain services contribute to the "morale" and "well-being" of covered military members? Maybe the problem here is not with the rule but with its application?
Merits aside and procedural/jurisdictional glasses on, I am surprised that the complaint does not explicitly mention 28 U.S.C. § 2201 (providing a cause of action for declaratory relief) or explicitly mention the statutory provision in RFRA supplying the cause of action under that statute, but mistakenly cites 42 U.S.C. § 1983 as supplying a cause of action for the free assembly count. (Section 1983 supplies a cause of action against state officials, not federal officials. And insofar as the complaint seeks damages, stinginess with Bivens remedies is likely to be a problem, particularly because of the military context.)
In connection with research into the Judiciary Act of 1789, I have recently been reading Oliver Ellsworth and the Creation of the Federal Republic, by William R. Casto. Published in 1997, the book contains the fruits of Professor Casto's extensive study of Ellsworth and is likely to be of interest to many readers of this blog. One of the themes running through the book is the relationship among Ellsworth's Calvinism, his understanding of government, and his actions as a public official. From the book's introduction:
Throughout the Founding Era, Ellsworth played an almost omnipresent role in forging what he called an "energetic" federal government. Littls purpose would be served by retelling the whole story yet one more time. Ellsworth's participation in the Constitutional Convention will be used to shed light upon his understanding of the art of political dealmaking rather than to rehearse the general meaning and significance of the Convention's labors. In particular the compromises on the states' representation in Congress and upon Congress's power to forbid the importation of slaves provide a laboratory for studying the nuances of Ellsworth's sophisticated political psychology and his consummate ability to craft effective political compromises.
Other episodes of the Founding Era are less familiar and will be addressed in more general scope. In particular, Ellsworth was the most effective and influential senator in the First Congress. He was the drafter and leading proponent of the Judiciary Act of 1789 that created the federal judicial system, and he had to bring all of his formidable political skills to bear on this complex and difficult task. In the Senate debates on the Bill of Rights, he was the floor manager, and he later was the Senate chairman of the Committee of Conference on the Bill of Rights and personally drafted the Committee's Report. Finally he was the architect of the Senate's Rhode Island Trade Bill that coerced the hold-out state into ratifying the Constitution and joining the Union. Rhode Island's ratification of the Constitution was the final step in the creation of the federal government. Ellsworth continued playing the premier leadership role in the Senate until 1796.
Ellsworth's exploits as a pragmatic politician are interesting, but what made him such a gifted political operative is even more so. He had a clear, sophisticated, detailed, and ruthlessly analytical political philosophy and psychology that was quite consistent and never failed him in his quest for effective political solutions. His philosophy, however, was not that of the secular enlightenment. He was not like Madison, Jefferson, Hamilton, and many other Founders. He was a strict Calvinist who saw no difference between secular and religious life and whose entire world view of personal and political life was consciously based upon religion. His strict Calvinism provided him with a philosophical model that enabled him to make sense of the chaotic and occasionally tragic human condition. He view all human activity as a seamless web minutely predestined by an all-powerful God. Moreover he viewed himself as a "Righteous Ruler" chosen by God to rule on earth and elected by God for personal salvation.
In the late twentieth century, there is a tendency to compartmentalize religious belief short of the political realm--to separate secular decision making in public life from personal faith. Consistent with this tendency, the political leaders of the Founding Generation are frequently viewed as secular giants who either had little religion or whose religion was important in their private--but not their public--lives. For example, one capable and respected historian whas written that "nearly all of the Founding Fathers claimed to be Christians; but, by virtually any standard of doctrinal orthodoxy, hardly any of them was . . . . Quite possibly, not a single delegate [to the Constitutional Convention] accepted Calvinist orthodoxy." Even among today's historian's studies of religion in the eighteenth century almost always focus upon the ideas of ministers rather than those of public officials. Oliver Ellsworth stands in sharp contrast to this compartmentalized, secular vision, and his thoroughoing integration of what today we call religious and secular life presents a valuable counterpoint to our inclination to separate the two.
In addition to shedding light on a largely unexplored aspect of the world view of the political leaders of the Founding generation, Ellsworth's understanding of the role of religion in society bears directly upon the religion clauses of the Bill of Rights. He played a significant role in framing these clauses and personally wrote the Establishment Clause. Therefore a thorough investigation of his complex and carefully elaborated views on the free exercise of religion and the governmental establishment of religion . . . provides fresh insights to the framing of the Constitution's religion clauses.
