Showing posts with label religion and politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion and politics. Show all posts

CFP: Graduate Student Conference on Democracy and Religion

Lauren Turek

I would like to share the following call for papers that I received. This conference looks fantastic and would be an excellent opportunity for graduate students of all levels.

Call For Papers:
Graduate Student Conference on Democracy and Religion

University of Virginia, April 12, 2019

The UVA Department of Religious Studies’ Forum on Democracy and Religion invites paper proposals for a graduate student conference to be held on April 12, 2019. Graduate students at any level and in any disciplinary field are welcome to apply.

Our focus will be on the relationship between democracy and religion. We are particularly interested in such issues as: the current contest between free exercise and human dignity; the shifting sites of the “public square,” including its market dimensions; the relationship between neoliberalism and international religious freedom; how discussions of religious minorities, race, and gender shape what we mean by religion and democracy; and whether democracy needs religion or what kind of religion needs democracy.

Paper proposals should be no less than five pages long, exclusive of notation. Full papers are preferred. Panel proposals are welcome but not necessary. Panel participants will receive a $500 honorarium.

Paper selection will begin January 25th, 2019, and continue until the program is announced and panelists notified, no later than March 15. Please send all proposals by email attachment to Spencer Wells, Executive Assistant for the Forum on Democracy and Religion, at spencerwells@virginia.edu

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Conference Recap: Religion and Politics in Early America

Jonathan Den Hartog

I've just returned from the Religion and Politics in Early America Conference in St. Louis, and I'm still processing all the great ideas that emerged.

First, the important details: the Conference was convened by the Society of Early Americanists, and the conference organizer was Abram Van Engen, who did a fantastic job in organizing and executing the event. The conference was hosted by Washington University, and significant funding came from the John C. Danforth Center on Religion and Politics at Washington University and the Kinder Institute at the University of Missouri.

My head-line impression was the significant interest the conference generated. There was significant buzz before the conference convened, and the expectations were well met. The conference had great attendance, with attendees ranging from graduate students to very established scholars. The sessions were full of interested audiences. The success of the conference indicated to me the critical mass of scholars working at the intersection of religion and politics in the "vast" framework of early America. There is much to be investigated, but lots of sharp scholars are doing important work on many parts of the field.

This painting of the Pilgrims from the U.S. Capitol served as an iconic inspiration for the conference.


















On a related note, the conference was successful in bringing together both historians and literary scholars. Although disciplinary differences were on display--in one panel: unpacking one sermon vs. treating a long genealogy of ideas vs. considering both physical and written evidence--still good efforts were made to talk across borders and gain greater insights.  Further, presenters showed how different methodologies could illuminate a shared topic.

These two pieces--the critical mass and the conversation across disciplines--point to the energy in the field. These conversations are not only important in 2018, but they point to questions of enduring concern. Those digging into the topic are making great contributions, and I expect we will continue to see great results growing from this conference into the future.

One very fruitful organizational component of the conference was the creation of several panel series, where multiple panels would address the same topic. This allowed for extended conversation and evolving understanding around common interests. So, Brian Franklin organized a series on "Religion and Politics in Early American Missions" and then fought laryngitis to see it to completion. Andrew Murphy planned a series on William Penn and Quaker legacies. Stephanie Kirk organized a series on Colonial and Global Connections, while Caroline Wigginton developed a series on material culture aspects of religion and politics. Although not officially a series, I was impressed with the several panels on Cotton Mather and Politics--Mather wrote enough to justify multiple sessions! I spent much of my time in a series that I designed with Carl Esbeck on the processes of religious disestablishment in the American states.

If you're interested, the entire conference program is here.

In addition to the general percolating of ideas, I take two benefits away. First, I'm glad for all the people with whom I was able to interact. The week-end was an on-going feast of energetic conversation. I'm glad to have met in person several Twitter acquaintances. Second, the intellectual work on the topic of religious disestablishment was very beneficial. It moved the project I'm working on quite a ways down the road. All the panelists I was working with did a great job.

So, it's entirely appropriate to end the recap with gratitude for all those who made the week-end such a success!  
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In Memoriam: Fr. Thomas Buckley

Jonathan Den Hartog

I may have been reading the wrong publications, but I was shocked to find out at the start of this year that Fr. Thomas Buckley, S.J. had passed away late last year (announcements here and here). Fr. Buckley's death is a great loss to American religious history.

Fr. Buckley, from the Western Province of the Jesuits.
Fr. Buckley's greatest historical contribution came in our understanding of religious disestablishment, especially in Virginia. His work Church and State in Revolutionary Virginia became the standard work for understanding both the process and the ideas involved in Virginia's disestablishment. Fr. Buckley combed the archives, and he knew early national Virginia's religious sources better than anyone. Fr. Buckley helped historians understand that although Jefferson and Madison mattered--including Madison's "Memorial and Remonstrance"--the evangelical dissenters of Virginia also deserved much attention. Their numbers and willingness to ally with Jefferson and Madison truly allowed disestablishment to happen, over the protests of both Virginia's Anglicans and the oratory of Patrick Henry. He demonstrated there were both theological and practical reasons for wanting to disassemble Virginia's establishment that deserved attention.

Almost forty years later, Fr. Buckley returned to the topic of disestablishment in Virginia, publishing Establishing Religious Freedom. Here, he traced how legal disestablishment was only the start of a long process in Virginia that raised questions about property, county and state charity and welfare concerns, church incorporation, and the legal standing of religious bodies. Read with Church and State in Revolutionary Virginia, these two books tell us much about both church and state in Virginia and the standing of religion in the early republic.

Fr. Buckley also wrote on other topics. His The Great Catastrophe of My Life traced divorce in early national Virginia and contributed to both legal studies and cultural understandings of marriage and family life in the state. He thus deserves credit as an early Americanist generally.

Fr. Buckley served as a pioneer examining religion in the early republic, pointing to its importance when it was receiving much less attention than it has subsequently received. He enlarged our understanding of religion in early American politics. Through doing outstanding work, he reconstructed an important part of the American experience.

I had the great opportunity to meet Fr. Buckley at a small conference, and he was strongly encouraging of a young scholar. His subsequent emails were upbeat and engaged through last year--which was why his passing came as a shock.

Still, Fr. Buckley's work was significant for understanding religion and politics in early America. Students of the early republic and of disestablishment will continue to study his work. And, events such as the upcoming Religion and Politics in Early America Conference will carry on his spirit. 
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Truth, Sincerity, and Trump: A Brief Anecdote

Charles McCrary

Last December, I defended my dissertation, “Sincerely Held Religious Belief: A History.” I’m now at work on the book, and one of my first tasks has been mercilessly chopping the fatty bits out of the manuscript. So, I present to you today one such fatty bit, a short prologue. I wrote it because I didn’t think anyone would believe that my dissertation truly was written in 2017 if it didn’t include some reference to Donald Trump. Enjoy!

Promoting his then-forthcoming television show on Trinity Broadcasting Network, Mike Huckabee assessed the character of his first guest: President Donald Trump. Perhaps the president was a strange choice for Christian programming. Huckabee’s new show would incorporate politics—he had media experience as a Fox News host and political experience as a former governor of Arkansas—but he was a former Baptist pastor hosting a show on a Christian network. So, why Trump? “Nobody pretends that he would be an ideal Sunday-school teacher, to be fair,” Huckabee said. “I don’t think he is a person who is deeply acquainted with the Bible and he’s not known to set attendance records at church. But he’s very respectful of people of faith. And that’s really all people in the Christian community want. They don’t care whether or not the guy believes as they do.” One might wonder, then, why so many “in the Christian community” believed President Barack Obama was a Muslim, and why it seemed to matter. But Huckabee’s next answer might hold a clue.

Interviewer Emma Green quoted Huckabee’s book Character Makes a Difference: “character is that which causes you to make the same decision in public as you would make in private.” Green cited Trump’s private actions “that don’t necessarily show strong character,” but she missed the point. Huckabee responded that, although he would prefer if the President spoke “every day with the most extraordinary sense of faith,” that was not what character was about. He clarified, “To me, character is if you’re the same in public as you are in private, and I think that in many ways, that’s what’s appealing about [Trump]…Even his tweets, for example, are very transparent about what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.” Character is when the inner and outer, the private and the public, the heart and the mouth, are in sync. For Mike Huckabee and the “Christian community” for whom he portends to speak, Trump’s public and private vulgarity are permissible. Sincerity, regardless of content, is a moral good in and of itself. They do not care as much about what Trump believes, as that he does not pretend. And Trump “has not pretended that he’s sitting on the front row of church or that he’s memorized any Bible verses. And I think they’re frankly refreshed by the honestly. But more importantly,” Huckabee pivoted, “they want a president who simply respects them—who recognizes that underneath all the Bill of Rights is religious liberty.” These two issues, sincerity and religious freedom, have an interconnected history in the United States. This is a story of secularization. It is not about the decline of religion, but the processes by which religion is relegated to the private and the importance of doctrine diminishes. Religious freedom, instituted through secular governance, protects the private consciences of individuals in public life. Sincere believers like Trump do not filter or misrepresent themselves. The public is the private. Among the perennial problems of religious freedom is sorting the sincere from the duplicitous.
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5 Questions with Ronit Stahl

Lauren Turek


Ronit Y. Stahl, a historian of modern American religion, law, and politics, is currently a fellow in the Department of Medical Ethics & Health Policy at the Perelman School of Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania. She earned her Ph.D. in history from the University of Michigan and was a Postdoctoral Research Associate at the John C. Danforth Center on Religion and Politics at Washington University in St. Louis from 2014-2016.

The following is a brief conversation we had about her excellent new book, Enlisting Faith: How the Military Chaplaincy Shaped Religion and State in Modern America, which came out this month on Harvard University Press.




Q1. Can you tell our readers a little bit about your book? What is your core argument?

Enlisting Faith tells the story of how the federal government, through the military chaplaincy, struggled with, encouraged, and regulated religious pluralism over the twentieth century. It traces how the United States shifted from a chaplaincy that consisted of only mainline (white and African American) Protestants and Catholics to one that counts Jews, Mormons, Muslims, Christian Scientists, Buddhists, Seventh-day Adventists, Hindus, and evangelicals and, as of spring 2017, recognizes over 200 different faith groups and denominations among military personnel. This evolution was uneven—neither accidental nor fully envisioned. Blurred religious and racial categories confounded a military that, for decades, remained invested in racial segregation and race has always complicated government oversight of religion. Nevertheless, changes in the chaplaincy emerged through a combination of incremental top-down decisions made by government officials and grassroots agitation from civilians.

My core argument is that despite the constitutional separation of church and state, the government managed religion in the military and religion has played a significant role in state administration. As a result, it’s important to think about religion-state influence as bidirectional: the state has shaped religion as much as religion has shaped the state.

Enlisting Faith also makes two related arguments about periodization and the institution of the military. First, I argue that the idea of “tri-faith America” emerged in World War I, not World War II or the Cold War, and the military initially cultivated religious pluralism for pragmatic, rather than ideological, reasons. By World War II, when consensus around “tri-faith America” achieved public prominence, it had already begun fracturing. More religious groups wanted recognition, some who fell outside the Protestant-Catholic-Jewish fold, like Buddhists, and some who rejected the pluralist ethos, like Protestant fundamentalists. This divide has grown, and it continues to challenge the military and American society writ large.


Second, and relatedly, the military became a major arena of inter- and intra-religious politics over the twentieth century because it is as much a social and cultural institution as it is a martial one. The military can be conservative and hierarchical and, simultaneously, progressive and innovative. In recognizing the value of diversity and enabling civil rights, it often led the way (imperfectly, to be sure) and hastened change. I show how the military has served as a laboratory for state policy and a bellwether of change in American society—and this holds for race, gender, and sexuality as much as it does for religion.

Q2. Why did you decide to research and write this book about the military chaplaincy?

I’ve long been interested in the relationship between religion and the state, and I wanted to examine a space of extended interaction, rather than brief flashpoints of conflict. Similarly, I’m fascinated by the intersection of pragmatism and ideology in state administration and wanted to think about politics outside of elections and legislatures. Early on, I briefly considered a comparative study of chaplains in different spaces – the military, prisons, hospitals, and universities. However, I quickly realized that the military is such a rich and complex institution to explore (complete with incredible archival records) that it was better to focus. Moreover, it’s a space in which federal oversight of religion has been constant. Despite occasional efforts to civilianize the chaplaincy, the government continues to commission and pay clergy to serve as chaplains rather than contract out religious services.

Q3. How does your book fit in to other recent scholarship on religion and politics, religion and foreign relations, and religion and twentieth-century U.S. history?

There’s been a wonderful outpouring of scholarship on religion of late, and Enlisting Faith enters a number of these discussions in a number of ways. A lot of scholarship in religion and politics tends toward either religion and conservatism or religion and liberalism. Enlisting Faith braids these strands together by looking at a space where values collide and what counts as “conservative” and what counts as “liberal” is sometimes less obvious. It’s also part of the rich conversations—among scholars and in the public sphere—about religious freedom and religious liberty in the United States. Whereas Tisa Wenger’s new book, Religious Freedom: The Contested History of an American Ideal, unravels ideas and rhetoric, Enlisting Faith takes a social history approach and examines the practice(s) of religious freedom, tracking successes and failures on the ground over the twentieth century.

In terms of religion and foreign policy, my book makes two central contributions. First, it decenters the Cold War as the singular moment in which the American state discovers religion as an instrument of foreign policy. Like Anna Su’s Exporting Religious Freedom, it argues for a broader twentieth-century history of the engagement between American religion and global politics. Second, it documents how chaplains engage in soft diplomacy. In the aftermath of World War II, chaplains shift from working exclusively with American troops to serving Americans and participating in relief work and relationship-building abroad. In postwar Europe and Asia, chaplains acted as brokers, ethnographers, and translators between the military and foreign populations. These roles blended missionary work and State Department outreach efforts in pursuit of military objectives, so they’re conduits between military and civilian, public and private spheres.


Finally, Enlisting Faith makes an argument for taking religion seriously as part of twentieth-century American history and showing how integral religion has been to American politics and social change through a key institution of government and governance. We’ve come a long way since Jon Butler’s “Jack-in-the-Box Faith: The Religion Problem in Modern American History” (2004) and Kevin Schultz and Paul Harvey’s “Everywhere and Nowhere: Recent Trends in American Religious History and Historiography” (2010). Nevertheless, there’s still some foot dragging about the importance of religion outside of narratives about the rise of the right and Islamophobia, especially in histories of the American state.

Q4. I know you did extensive archival research for this project - what was your favorite archival discovery? What made this find so surprising or interesting?

It’s so hard to choose, so I’ll quickly note two:
1. The full set of transcripts for the World War II radio show, “Chaplain Jim.” Crafted through a public-private partnership, broadcast on NBC’s Blue Network, and intended for women on the homefront, the show brought the ecumenical and pluralist worldview of the chaplaincy into American domestic spaces during the war. What was particularly exciting was that the transcripts bear the red pencil corrections of Chief of Chaplains William Arnold, who worked assiduously to make Chaplain Jim “anonymous”—that is, not identifiably Protestant, Catholic, or Jewish. The show is a soap opera filled with intentional messaging about religious pluralism as an American value, and thus offers a wonderfully rich artifact of popular culture in which religion and the state met. The show bridged military-civilian worlds and highlights how the chaplaincy’s gaze included women. The gender politics of the show are unsurprising for the time, but it’s a good reminder that women are not absent from all-male spaces.
2. A post-World War II petition requesting that the military add a “B” for Buddhist on dog tags. Religion was added to dog tags in World War II, but there were only three choices: P for Protestant, C for Catholic, or H for Hebrew. This meant that everyone who wasn’t Catholic or Jewish was labeled Protestant, which (very reasonably!) bothered many minority religions. After the war ended, Japanese-American Buddhists organized to lobby for change, and the signature sheets take up an entire unmarked box in the National Archives. What I mean by this is that that War Department used a decimal classification system to file and label records, and every other box in the Army chaplaincy record group bears a number indicating the topic of its content. Researchers can request, for example, all the records related to “marriage” or “photographs” or “meetings” by pulling boxes by decimal code. But this box had no decimal. This suggests that the chaplaincy had no idea how to label it. It also means the only way to find it is to pull every box in the record group. The petition is a really important document on its own: it gave me great material to think about the meaning of limited religious options for dog tags and how excluded Americans responded to the religious categories created by the state. It’s also a useful reminder that classification systems beget classification systems, and archives often replicate bureaucratic logic that needs to be analyzed.  

I could go on, but instead I’ll leave it to readers to discover tri-faith hymnals, records of courts-martial, and other fun sources in the book!

Q5. What do you plan to research for your next project?

I’m still thinking a lot about how religious freedom and religious pluralism operate in institutional spaces, but I’ve pivoted from the military to medicine. I’ve started a project researching the origins, creation, and impact of institutional and corporate conscience rights in health care. It’s a project that raises a lot of questions about what it means for an institution to be “non-sectarian,” how and when federal funds can flow to religious institutions, how religious freedom and discrimination intersect, and how individuals and institutions negotiate competing moral claims.  

Thank you so much for sharing these great details on your new book and future research, Ronit! I look forward to seeing further discussion unfold in the comments section and hope that everyone checks out Enlisting Faith!




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The Recurrent Reinhold Niebuhr

Elesha Coffman

Apologies for the repost, but I thought that a pair of articles at Christianity Today might be of interest to readers of this blog as well. In the main piece, Steven Weitzman describes "The Theology Beneath the Trump-Comey Conflict." In a companion sidebar, I offer five reasons why Reinhold Niebuhr continues to make headlines nearly 50 years after his death. Both articles feature links to other resources that take their ideas to a greater depth. Read up, and be the hit of your weekend barbecue!
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CFP: Religion and Politics in Early America & A Recent H-Diplo Roundtable of Interest

Lauren Turek

This past month, I have come across two pieces of information that may be of interest to the readers of this blog. The first is a call for papers from the John C. Danforth Center on Religion and Politics, which is holding a conference next year on Religion and Politics in Early America. The details are as follows:

Call For Papers – Religion and Politics in Early America (Beginnings to 1820)
St. Louis, March 1-4, 2018

Conference Website: https://sites.wustl.edu/religionpolitics2018/

Sponsored by:
The John C. Danforth Center on Religion and Politics
The Kinder Institute on Constitutional Democracy
The Society of Early Americanists
St. Louis University
Washington University in St. Louis

Seeking Panel and Paper Proposals
We seek proposals for panels and individual papers for the special topics conference on Religion and Politics in Early America, March 1-4, 2018, in St. Louis, Missouri. Individual papers are welcome, but preference will be given to completed panel submissions.

This conference will explore the intersections between religion and politics in early America from pre-contact through the early republic. All topics related to the way religion shapes politics or politics shapes religion—how the two conflict, collaborate, or otherwise configure each other—will be welcomed. We define the terms “religion” and “politics” broadly, including (for example) studies of secularity and doubt. This conference will have a broad temporal, geographic, and topical expanse. We intend to create a space for interdisciplinary conversation, though this does not mean that all panels will need be composed of multiple disciplines; we welcome both mixed panels and panels composed entirely of scholars from a single discipline.

Panels can take a traditional form (3-4 papers, with or without a respondent), roundtable form (5 or more brief statements with discussion), or other forms.

Panel submissions must have the following:

1. An organizer for contact information

2. Names and titles for each paper in the panel.

3. A brief abstract (no more than 250 words) for the panel.

4. A briefer abstract (no more than 100 words) for each paper.

5. Brief CV’s for each participant (no more than two pages each).

Individual paper submissions must include the following:

1. Name and contact information

2. Title

3. Abstract (no more than 150 words)

4. A brief CV (no more than two pages)

Please send your proposals to religion.politics.2018@gmail.com by Friday, May 26, 2017.

If you have any questions, please email Abram Van Engen at religion.politics.2018@gmail.com.



The second recent item of interest is a roundtable review that H-Diplo published earlier this month. Samuel Moyn (Harvard University), Stephen Hopgood (SOAS, University of London), James Loeffler (University of Virginia), and Janice Gross Stein (University of Toronto) reviewed Michael N. Barnett's book The Star and the Stripes: A History of the Foreign Policies of American Jews, which Princeton University Press published in 2016.


The roundtable, with author response, is very robust and provides an excellent overview of the book, which is on an understudied topic in the field of American foreign relations and religion. To access the review, follow this link: https://networks.h-net.org/node/28443/discussions/174974/h-diplo-roundtable-xviii-21-star-and-stripes-history-foreign


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Reexamining the Original Patriots

Jonathan Den Hartog

I had hoped to find a way to connect a blog post this morning to football events over the week-end. The connections this year were not as clear as in previous years. So, the best I can do is--"If you're thinking about the New England Patriots for good or ill, think about about the Original Patriots!" And, I won't even limit that to the New England variety.

Rather than digging into a full review today, I want to offer a notice of a book I'm working through. This past month I've enjoyed reading Daniel Dreisbach's Reading the Bible with the Founding Fathers.

Although other books already exist on the subject, it's an effective measure of how significant the Bible was in public debate during the founding era that yet another interpretation is justified.

Dreisbach is humble enough to delineate what he is not claiming while still making broad claims for the Biblical text influencing the discussion around the American Revolution and the new nation. In this claim, Dreisbach puts a lot of emphasis on the concept of "discourse," with biblical themes pervading discussions, often on multiple sides of an issue (as for example the debate between Patriots and Loyalists). In this, the author places much stress on the publicly Protestant nature of the colonies. Because Protestantism emphasized the Scriptures, it is no surprise that the cadences and phrases of Scripture worked their way into public speech and writing--often without attribution. In this story, Dreisbach offers an "interdisciplinary study" that ties together "history, religion, biblical literature, law, and political thought" (9).

One positive contribution Dreisbach makes early on is to distinguish between the array of uses to which Americans put the Scriptures. He creates a typology of uses, starting with Scriptural quotations to enrich a common language and vocabulary and to enhance the power of rhetoric through connection with an authoritative text. More substantively, he finds the founding generation using the Scriptures to define normative standards for evaluating public life, illuminating the role of Providence among nations, and gaining insights into the character and designs of God's interaction with humans. This framework can be helpful to anyone encountering Revolutionary rhetoric.

Rather than being comprehensive in the treatment of the Bible, Dreisbach spends significant time with a few passages that were used often and that illustrate significant themes. These passages include calls for liberty from Great Britain (Galatians 5:1), pictures of robust American liberty (Micah 4:4), and calls for righteous behavior for both the people (Micah 6:8, Proverbs 14:34) and the rulers (Proverbs 29:2).


In his treatment, Dreisbach is often evaluative. He is less convinced by the attempt of Patriots to align political independence with the spiritual liberty spoken of in the New Testament. At the same time, he finds many of the calls for just relations in society to be appropriate from a contextualized reading of Scripture. Put another way, how well did the Americans use Scripture? Dreisbach's answer is that it depends on who is using it and how they are deploying it.

As mentioned, this is not the first book to take up the place of Scripture in the American Revolution. The two other books most closely related are James Byrd's Sacred Scripture, Sacred War and Mark Noll's In the Beginning was the Word (reviewed here and here). I would encourage those interested to read all three books. As an initial suggestion, I would observe that Dreisbach is more qualitative in his approach to the uses of the Scriptures as opposed to Byrd's quantitative approach. Dreisbach is also more open than Noll to the argument that some of the uses of Scripture by American patriots were legitimate and exegetically accurate. That said, much value could be gained by a comparison of the three studies.

So, for anyone looking to move past the NFL season with a good book on religion in the era of the American Revolution, Dreisbach's book could be just the ticket.
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