Brookfield Basics

Recent events on both the national and the local Brookfield level have kept this question in the news, and after nine months of blogging I thought it was time to give it some attention.

There are few components of public policy that are as passionately debated as the question of the separation of Church and State. There is universal agreement that the notion of separating the two is a good idea. But from that point of accord there is no end of acrimony and political maneuvering.

Both sides of this issue are quick to cite the Constitution and relevant court cases to support their respective positions. Whatever differing views we may hold, if we are serious about wanting to understand this contentious issue, we must look BACKWARD. If we are to passionately posture and point to the Constitution in support of our views, then it seems to me we must make an honest attempt at understanding what the intentions of the Founders of our Republic were. And there can be no fundamental understanding of THIS question without seeking to understand the historical framework, experiences, and institutions that shaped their views.

The people who settled the original thirteen colonies were English, and the primary motivation that led most of these people to come to North America was the desire for greater POLITICAL freedom to practice (or not to practice) their chosen religion. The source of that motivation was the reality of political life in seventeenth century England, which dictated that anyone interested in exercising a spiritual life via membership in a church had only one choice. The choice English people had at that time was the Church of England, or what is now called the Anglican Church. This Church was run, funded, and managed by the State. Its leaders were chosen and placed by the King, and its coffers were filled and emptied at the whim of the King. The Church of England was founded by Henry the Eighth and resulted directly from his famous sixteenth century rebellion against and excommunication from the Roman Catholic Church. This had resulted from his rage at the Pope’s refusal to grant permission for Henry to divorce a series of wives, none of whom he claimed, were capable of giving him a male heir to his throne.

Since the Papacy would not agree to Henry’s request, he simply started his own church, and forced all of his subjects to become its members. He ran the church, staffed it, and decreed its beliefs and principles. It wasn’t a church so much as an expression and extension of his personal and political power.

Thus the entire heritage of the framers of our Constitution was a lack of freedom of CHOICE in the pursuits of their respective spiritual conscience. It was THIS political dynamic that shaped their views and formed their intent with respect to the question of Church and State. Regardless of your view on this matter today, understanding this reality is imperative to any serious and objective effort in the understanding of the Founders’ intentions.

In reading the Constitution and the Federalist papers, which are the best mechanism we have to understand the intent of the Founders as expressed in the Constitution, it is clear to me that their intent was the prevention of the establishment of any State sanctioned, official religion.

In my next post we’ll take a look at what the Constitution actually says, what it doesn’t say, where the term “separation of church and state” actually originated, and some reflections on all of that.





PS – It is one of history’s most interesting ironies that, despite his quest for a strong male heir to follow him on the throne, it was Henry’s daughter Elizabeth who would go on to become one of England’s mightiest leaders, and one of Europe’s greatest monarchs.

On this date in 1944, the long anticipated Allied invasion of the continent of Europe began. It was an incredible undertaking with nearly seven thousand ships, twelve thousand sorties flown, and of course, thousands of men landed on the beaches of Normandy in a howling storm of steel and flame.

France had lived under Nazi occupation for four years, and it was the combined force of the American and British armies that would liberate it. The Allied forces would struggle in the tough, hedgerow country of France’s northwestern provinces, but after establishing a beachhead they slowly pushed inward, gaining strength, logistical momentum from their great bases in Antwerp, and the establishment of overwhelming air superiority. From there, Patton’s Third Army would engage in its great “race across Europe”.

The same month would also see the beginning of an enormous Russian offensive in the East, spearheaded by Marshall Georgy Zhukov and his waves of T-34 Tanks and Katyushka rockets. He would surge out of the Leningrad pocket and relentlessly destroy the German Armies that had so devastated his homeland. Americans like to think that we won the war in Europe, and certainly the outcome may have been different without our presence. But seventy-five percent of all German casualties in this conflict occurred on the Eastern Front, and were inflicted by the Red Army. Never in history had one nation been so utterly pulverized as Germany would be by the spring of 1945. In twelve months time Berlin would lie in rubble; a city of nearly four million people reduced to a wasteland of destruction, starvation, and misery; the capital city serving as the microcosm of the entire nation.

I have met several veterans in my life, but only one who fought and landed at Normandy. We met in 1978, in a bar in south central Michigan. His name was Virgil, and we spoke at length about his D-Day experience. He shared with me what it was like in the Higgins boats as they motored through the surf – “grown men weeping like boys, openly calling out to their mother or their Savior, and wetting themselves from a fear so overwhelming you could hardly stand up” he shared. But when the booms dropped, “we did what we had to do”.

I have watched the opening scenes of Saving Private Ryan many times, and each time I do I remember Virgil. And I thank God I never had to do what he did.