George Washington's Religion: Christian or Pagan?

If George Washington’s religion could be reduced to a single word, that word would be “Providence.” He seldom used the term “God” in his public pronouncements, preferring other epithets for his divinity like the Beneficent Being, the Almighty, the Grand Architect of the Universe and All-Wise Disposer of Events. But when referring to the divine, his favorite term was “Providence.” It recurs again and again, in varied disguises. Sometimes Washington’s “Providence” seem to be a guiding presence in history, at times a personal protector against harm, at other times simply a synonym for Fate or Fortune.

But where did his usage originate? Surprisingly, the word “providence” occurs only once in the King James Bible (the translation that would have been most familiar to Washington from church services), and then not in a very flattering context. It appears in Chapter 24, Verse 2 of the Book of Acts, where a prosecutor named Tertullus praises the “providence” and wise administration of a Roman-appointed governor, who is presiding over the trial of the apostle Paul. Naturally, Washington owned a copy of the Bible, although probate records list his personal volume as an edition of Brown’s Bible, an illustrated study Bible produced by the Scottish divine John Brown in 1778 which included various marginal references comparing scripture passages and offering details of geography and other lore of the Holy Land. Surely this is an unlikely source to inspire Washington’s peculiar passion for a “providential”deity.

On the other hand, probate records also show that Washington’s library included a volume of Seneca’s Morals, which opens with a full essay titled “On Providence.” There the philosopher reflects that “Fate guides us, and it was settled at the first hour of birth what length of time remains for each. Cause is linked with cause, and all public and private issues are directed.” The good man will not resist what cannot be prevented, Seneca advises, finding consolation in the observation that “together with the universe we are swept along; whatever it is that has ordained us so to live, so to die, by the same necessity it binds also the gods. One unchangeable course bears along the affairs of men and gods alike,” a force that governs not only human affairs but also the “swift revolution of the heavens, being ruled by eternal law.” This sounds very much like the later Washington, who wrote to Sally Fairfax that “There is a Destiny, which has the Sovereign control of our Action, not to be resisted through the strongest efforts of Human Nature.”

Like Washington, who was a disinherited son and outsider in English colonial society, Seneca was a Spanish colonist living under Roman rule, a patriot who was tried and found guilty of conspiring against the tyrant Nero, a role model for young George. In the face of hardship and overwhelming odds, and in keeping with his Stoic outlook, Seneca counseled patience, inner fortitude and self-possession: life lessons that would guide the American throughout his own rise to greatness.

On the face of the evidence, Washington’s “Providence” owed less to Biblical or explicitly Christian sources than to Stoic philosophy. Indeed, Washington never employed Christological terms like “Savior” or “Redeemer” as names for the divine. His Providence was a noble but primariily pagan deity.

Where Are The Moderate Muslims?

With headlines full of extremists in all quarters, the question is often asked, where are the moderates—especially in the Muslim world?

Yet I suspect that many who puzzle and pontificate over these “missing moderates” aren’t looking very hard. 

Have they talked with their own neighbors lately?  Recently I had a chance to meet one of mine, Imam Abdur Rauf, at the mosque just down the road from the church I serve as minister

The Iman invited clergy of all stripes to visit his community last month during Ramadan—the Jewish rabbi, the Episcopal priest, Quakers and Catholics—just to get acquainted.  So this morning, I reciprocated the invitation and asked the Iman to visit my church for a Sunday service.

A handsome, middle-aged man with dark vest and black taqiyah or skull cap, Abdur Rauf, I learned, was born in Spanish Harlem, but discovered Islam while studying geology at Cornell University.  At the Merrick Company where he currently works, Abdur Rauf is the chief scientist in charge of LiDAR, or Light Detection and Ranging, analyzing digital data from satellites and translating these electronic bits into useful information about urban terrain and natural resources. In fact, I'm not sure just what he does, but he seems to know a lot more than me about lasers.

Not your typical Imam?

Spiritually, Abdur Rauf has been a leader and organizer of the Muslim Jewish Peace Walks which have taken place in many major cities around America—which began following 9/11 seeking a rapprochement among tribes of Moses and Mohammed, but now attract Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, and other people of faith seeking non-violent solutions to world conflict.

Again, not your typical Imam? Abdur Rauf certainly breaks my stereotypes.  But then, how many of my stereotypes are based on media distortions and fear of the unknown rather than on the actual experience of meeting my neighbors and talking one-on-one?

I didn’t have to go far to find a moderate Muslim—indeed, just half a mile down the road, to the local mosque.  So maybe you might also try reaching out to that woman wearing the hijab (head scarf) or the man wearing the keffiyah (headdress)?  Where there’s now a stranger with a funny hat, you just might find a friend.  And where you now find reasons for paranoia, you just might meet a moderate Muslim.

Have You Heard the One About the Polack?

I hadn’t been in Santa Fe more than two weeks. “I guess we won’t be telling many Polack jokes now,” one of the members of my new congregation quipped. I grinned and responded, “No, not telling many Chopin jokes either,” I remarked.

Of course I had to smile. To do otherwise would indicate I didn’t have any sense of humor. Dago jokes, kike jokes, nigger jokes, chink and wop jokes are considered to be in bad taste now. But somehow Polack jokes still pass under the radar.

Really, I consider myself more American than Polish. My father died when I was five, and I was never really encouraged to stay in touch with the Kowalski side of my family. Why should I? They were Polish.

They were Polacks, like Copernicus. Like Marie Curie. Like Joseph Conrad. Like Lech Walensa, the leader of Solidarity who as much as any single individual brought down the hegemony of the Soviet Union and ended the Cold War.

Or like Tadeusz Kościuszko, whose fortifications of Saratoga in New York during the American Revolution led to the defeat of the British General Burgoyne and the turning point in the colonists’ war for independence. 

I don’t even know where my father’s family originated in Poland. I’m a fully assimilated, non-ethnic, generic U.S. citizen. But I wish I knew more about my national heritage.

And I wish I didn’t feel still so small—belittled--whenever I hear a Polack joke.