As the crisis came to a head in early 1776, Congress urged spiritual preparation.
How does a nation—or a pre-nation—gird its colonial loins and fortify its collective soul for a certain battle (of uncertain outcome) just ahead? Months before it took the fateful and formal decision to establish nationhood, the Continental Congress embraced a special action, nearly unthinkable today, to prepare for its declaring independence: It turned to God.
With Lexington, Concord, Bunker Hill, and other portentous military clashes already in the colonial rear-view, with Congress’s “Olive Branch Petition” having been rejected by King George, the inevitability of a formal break—with its vague and maybe even deadly result—was approaching at 18th-century breakneck speed. What to do to give the disparate militias and pre-citizenry of this not-yet-country a modicum of fortitude and courage, and maybe even to gain Divine backing?
At this time of semiquincentennial events leading to the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, it shocks to note the actions—unusual (and maybe even unthinkable) by modern standards—that the Continental Congress took as the climactic break between Crown and Colonies—and the many prevailing fears and unknowns—approached.
Today marks one such semiquincentennial event: On Saturday, March 16, 1776—as Redcoats prepared to evacuate besieged Boston—Congress, assembled in Philadelphia, adopted a proclamation drafted by New Jersey delegate William Livingston that appealed to the Almighty, seeking to motivate colonials to embrace a sacrificial and penitential day to prepare for the looming test.
With the “Liberties of America . . . imminently endangered by the secret machinations and open assaults of an insidious and vindictive administration,” Livingston’s proclamation establishing “that Friday, the Seventeenth day of May next” to be “a day of HUMILIATION, FASTING and PRAYER.”
Why? Because it was “the indispensable duty of these hitherto free and happy colonies, with true penitence of heart, and the most reverent devotion, publickly to acknowledge the over ruling providence of God; to confess and deplore our offences against him; and to supplicate his interposition for averting the threatened danger, and prospering our strenuous efforts in the cause of freedom, virtue, and posterity.”
What beneficial humiliation was to happen (or, not happen) on May 17, 1776? Congress pressed Americans, “with united hearts,” to
confess and bewail our manifold sins and transgressions, and, by a sincere repentance and amendment of life, appease his righteous displeasure, and, through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ, obtain his pardon and forgiveness; humbly imploring his assistance to frustrate the cruel purposes of our unnatural enemies; and by inclining their hearts to justice and benevolence, prevent the further effusion of kindred blood.
This geographically broad and religiously concentrated effort contained martial hopes. Should England fail to incline its heart, the appeal was that “the God of Armies” would
animate our officers and soldiers with invincible fortitude, to guard and protect them in the day of battle, and to crown the continental arms, by sea and land, with victory and success.
Blessings of liberty were floridly expressed too, and the proclamation concluded with a call to treat this special day in May as a Sabbath:
And it is recommended to Christians of all denominations, to assemble for public worship, and abstain from servile labor on the said day.
Having adopted Livingston’s proclamation, Congress took one final action related its call “Resolved, that the foregoing resolve be published.”
And it was, for the purpose of widely distributing to churches throughout the colonies, with an editorial kicker: The printed proclamation broadsheets ended with the plea “GOD save the PEOPLE.”
We should be aware that our Founders thought in these ways and earnestly took these explicit spiritual and penitential actions—and that this proclivity is a component of America’s essence. There should be no illusion that 250 years later, our country’s citizenry would face its perils by calling for a day of humiliation, fasting, and prayer—but that our forefathers were unafraid to do so, and by our knowing today that they were so instinctively inclined, we may be inspired to find room for the Almighty and the actions of faith in our public affairs.
