Wednesday, August 31, 2011

What doesn't kill you . . . :-)


(Multiply Archives)
Recently, I finally finished a sort of “homework assignment from God.”  I felt led to read, reread, copy, reread I Peter.  It was a pretty big disciplining experience as well as an enlightening one.
One of the verses that strengthened my resolve in life said: “In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ;”
Here is the thing–”if necessary.”  Any difficulty that arises can not only be used for good(i.e. an opportunity to grow) they are necessary in life.  That awareness along with other verses from the same book (  “. . . Prepare your minds for action . . .” “all of you be harmonious, sympathetic, brotherly, kindhearted, and humble in spirit; not returning evil for evil or insult for insult, but giving a blessing instead; for you were called for the very purpose that you might inherit a blessing.  . . . For the eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous, and his ears attend to their prayers . . .”) Gave a new focus in my life.  I was strengthened in my internal battles against sin, and in my commitment to live for God.  They really go together.  I still trip at times, or become tired and start to drag my feet, but the point is to keep going.
A parallel in the physical world would be my martial arts class that I added on Thursday August 25.  It was hard work getting through the exercises they had us do.  I felt like falling down.  It was, leg lifts, fast as you can go! 20 seconds–10 second breath–drop push ups to the side, as many as you can, 20 seconds–10 second breath before–jump squats back and forward, 20 seconds–10 second breath–jump down sideways, into the air, down the other side, 20 seconds–10 sec. breath–one legged squats, 20 seconds, you can go faster–10 second breath–Do you get the point?  It was hard and fast and they kept us at it for 4 minutes, gave us a 1 minute break and had us going again, and so on until we had gone at least 15 minutes.  The ten second breaks were just long enough to make me realize how weak I was.  They lead us in stretches and then talked with us before dismissing us.  I felt wobbly and amazing, similar to when I realized that the blessing I inherit is the Creator’s personal attention.
Then I realized, I need to keep this up.  If I don’t, I’m going to be a pulp next time.  So Friday morning, I exercised with some roommates a bit.  I was terribly stiff and sore Friday night, but there was still the realization that this was a good thing.  The pain will not last forever, endurance will come.  The same goes for my spiritual life, and that is exciting.
So, now I'm reading Micah (re-reading), and tomorrow will be my second martial arts class.  My legs have just regained approximate normalcy.  Here's to continued growth!

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Well, I had been going to go to sleep, but this is more important.

(From way back at Bethel)

So, on Saturday we set up at a church in preparation for the 'morrow and went to a Baymont Inn to sleep.  (It was really nice).  I had been wearing my new necklace that I had bought.  As usual for that necklace, I took it off before showering.  I set it on the nightstand with my hair-elastic.
 Bus call was 9:00 the next morning.  I set my alarm for 8.  There was a wake-up call (very loud and obnoxious ringing) shortly after 7:30.  We made it shut-up and went back to sleep.  Timing was bad.  I woke up, looked at my cell that had made its way from on top of my computer to right next to my hand and freaked--"8:52!"  I was up.  I alerted my sleeping roomy to the time.  We were dressed and downstairs on the bus by 9:06.  We went, we sang, we ate (lunch was delicious.  I was very hungry) and packed up. And then I realized, I don't have my necklace. 
It was not a happy thought.  But I realized something else.  Ultimately, it was a piece of jewelry, I liked it, I bought it, but --it's a piece of jewelry.  So, I talked to God about it.  It turned out someone else left a mac, so Peter was going to go back to the hotel to ask after that.  I asked him to ask about my necklace. 
The mac was "not found," (rumour chain info) but I heard nothing about the necklace.  I released it.  It was fine, I mean, I was wearing the necklace Samuel gave me (turquoise cross) and that's the main one I wear. 
We sang, shouted, I lost my voice a bit (it's mostly back, courtesy of being not particularly loquacious).  We came back to campus and began to unload.  I went to open the van to pull out the light stuff in there, and Peter handed me a small clear-ish bag with a stiff paper in it, "Here, this is for you." 
"Ok, thanks."  but my voice went from "ok" to "thanks!"  (as much as scratchiness would allow).  The bag held my compass necklace!  I thanked God also.  I was pretty tickled.

Tonight, I was in a poetical-philosophical mood.  Earlier I had thought slipping....hmmm.....<insert image of page with scrolling illegible words>....slipping and since I was on facebook (randomly), I opened a note and started typing (edited and posted it).  Anyway.
While showering, I poeticized about humanity and grace and the cross, and as I scrubbed I heard a "ting!"  I looked around and saw nothing.  Then I saw my chain hanging.  Then I saw it was not broken but the cross was gone.  Teaches me to wear jewelry to shower.  But I've never--almost never taken it off for anything! Why this time . . . but I couldn't find it around the drain or in the shower. I had just dealt with a similar situation--but this was different. 
This was my cross.  I could feel it or see it and it served as a reminder of The Cross.  That's partly why I liked to wear it.  Again, I realized it was still an ornament, a piece of jewelry, but I told God that it was still different and special because my brother gave it me, and I wanted it back.  I don't know where my other cross is, and I suppose I could get a replacement, but this one was more special--it's the one my brother gave me. 
A thought niggled forward in my brain.  Last week, I was impressed that I needed to deal with my concept of personal property.  Not that God was sitting up there saying, "you need need to deal with this, so--let's see--unclasp now and--ha!--down it goes into the drain!  Now what are you going to do?"  But, thinking of it, I've been risking that happening all these years (not thinking of it, but, still).  Anyway, it was an opportunity to act.
What could I do?  I guess I could send maintenance an e-mail. . . .Ok.  whether it gets results or not, I can do that.  and if you do find a little silver and turquoise (light blue-ish) cross, could you--first sanitize!--return it?  Then i told God that I realized I didn't have to have it and moved on--poeticizing about sin and judgement and forgiveness and mercy between people because the mercy God has given as I dried up and began to gather the shower stuff to leave.
Then I saw it.  On the tiles outside the shower was that little cross.  Lord!  you really are merciful!  Thank you, Lord.  I...just, thanks! I stooped and picked it up. 
How like God.  He knew I valued it more than I would value a replacement.  He also knew that I needed to realize that I didn't need it or any thing aside from Him.  He let it vanish, long enough for me to realize it and long enough for me to surrender it to Him.  Then God showed that it hadn't disappeared into the abysmal sewage, but had just gone out of sight for a moment.  
Then I almost cried, now I did shed a few tears. In any case, as I wear that necklace, I will remember, it is a gift from God, too. 

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Why is mathematics important to theology?

According to Roger Bacon in his Opus Majus there are seven reasons.  One of them has to do with geography.  Basically, his theory is that we cannot rightly understand the scriptures if we do not understand the geographical situation of its histories.  Because, if we cannot understand that, we cannot understand the literal sense of the scripture, and if we cannot grasp the literal, how can we hope to understand any spiritual meaning? 

This was one example offered:
" We note that the Jordan flows down from north to south to the east of Jerusalem, which lies to the west, a little way from the Great [Mediterranean] Sea. Between these two, on this side of Jordan, is Jericho, a city surrounded by its plain. Next comes Mount Olivet, then the Valley of Josaphat, and after it Jerusalem. Now the saints tell us that the world is represented in their method of interpretation by Jordan, both symbolically and because of the river's characteristics. For one thing, it flows into the Dead Sea, a symbol of the Inferno; there are also many other reasons. Jericho, in the view of the saints, symbolizes the flesh. Mount Olivet signifies the loftiness of the spiritual life, because of its own loftiness, and the sweetness of devotion, as sweet as its oil. The Valley of Josaphat signifies lowliness through the meaning of valley, "a low place," and true humility in the presence of majesty, (186) since the translation of the name Josaphat is "in the sight of the Lord." Jerusalem itself means "vision of peace"; in its moral interpretation it points to the holy soul which possesses peace of heart. Allegorically it signifies the Church Militant; analogically, the Church Triumphant.
We all hope to pass with peace in our hearts from the beginning of our life (the dawn of our physical birth and the sunrise of reason's theory and practice) to its end, the sunset of old age; this is our hope expressed in moral terms. We all hope to be true and faithful members of the Church, beneath whose shade we may rest, untroubled by the malign assaults of our enemy; this is the same hope expressed as allegory. We hope that in this life our thoughts may be turned [by analogy] to the heavenly Jerusalem, and that at our death we may pass to that heavenly city, there to dwell in the beauty of peace, in the tents of faith, in rest and in fullness. Whoever hopes for all this must first leave Jordan-this world-behind, either by reducing it to his control, like the saints who live in the world, or abandon it completely, as the monastics do. This is the first stage of progress to a spiritual life, a stage easier than the others.
Having achieved this, he must next do battle with the flesh, something not as easy to overcome as the world, being very close to us and never abandoning its subject.[isn't that the truth!] He must not, therefore, charge it by brute force and destroy it, but must bridle its arrogance slowly and tactfully. This is why it is figured by Jericho and the plain around it; one must advance in penitence along the level road, thus justifying the reasonable obedience of his flesh. For if he foolishly overwhelms his flesh by violence, his spirit can never attain the greater heights. In acting patiently he will be unlike most people who have been turned to penitence, who for a year or two humble their own bodies, but thereafter are good for nothing, unable to benefit themselves or anyone else.
But after a man has put down the world under his feet and has overcome the flesh in the way he should, then-and not until then-he is ready to rise up to the heights of spiritual life and the sweetness of true devotion. From then on he will be able to climb up to Mount Olivet and gain the pinnacle of human perfection and immerse himself in the delight of prayer and contemplation of God. But even when he has trained himself by the ascent from all sides of that height, he must still cross the valley of Josaphat-that is, he must finish the course of his life in complete humility and make himself poor and humble of spirit in the eyes of God, not merely his own or those of his fellow men. For many look humble to themselves and to other men, but in the presence (187) of God and his angels are puffed up with arrogance.[never thought of that]
When at last he has ended his whole life in perfect lowliness, then he has entered Jerusalem, in all three senses of the word. He will possess peace in his heart, the peace which follows perfection of the life of the spirit. "To the ungodly there is no peace," says the Lord. But the saints possess the peace of God, which transcends the senses of mankind. Free from all troubles, he will rest in the peace of the Church Militant-the peace unknown to the faithless and sinful, who drag on in the state of damnation, plagued by the Devil and driven from one sin to another, punished for one, then tormented for another. Even in this life he must play his part, as it is said, by sure and certain hope and by revelation, in that blessed vision of the peace of Jerusalem that is above, which by the grace of God he will win after his death."
I never thought of geography that way . . .

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

A poem

From back at Bethel

First I just want to say, I really did see on three different days, three dead blackbirds.  The first was kind of peacefully melancholy, the second kind of sad, the third, depressing.  It was weird.  So . . .

Three Dead Crows

The first day, the rain came down and wept great tears over one
                    fallen, alone
The second day came and with it cool winds
                         over two were blown
And on the earth the second lay
  under the blue sky,
and the first not far away
   on the corner lies
The third day, the last lay stiff with no wind or tear
                       in dirt and decay.
The fourth day, I also shall disappear
                           and nothing say.

Ah! You my friends had a song to sing!
And who ever flew the way you flew!
But down to the earth is bound the wing
That once through heavens flew
Down to the earth, you who three
    once through blue sky and grey sky
and in bold despite of gravity
  soared.  But now cold death
has reminded me
how slight is the breath of humanity.

The first day came with a weeping sky
         and tears rolled off your back
The second day came with bitter winds
         that ruffled the dull and black
The third day came with only decay
        and in filth you laid and in dearth
The fourth day I shall fade away
        and never walk this earth.


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Blah blah blah

From at Bethel

That is about how I feel.  I have been taking cat naps all night as I have been finishing this amazing research project.  I wish I would have done more work on it earlier, but Library of Congress was being glitchey this weekend.  So.  Here it is.  I am going to share it with you all now that it has been turned in for a little bit.

                 Religion in Culture during the Early American Republic
In any society there must develop some systems of belief and practice that are generally followed.  That is part of what makes up culture.  But whereas in the present age the systems of belief and practice are rather vague and tolerant, during the early years of our republic they were much more strongly delineated.  Then, questions of a religious or moral nature were considered to have a very grave importance.  This is quite natural when one realizes that religion was perceived to have an influence on culture, education, morals, civilization—in short, every aspect of life.  It was not an area that admitted a great deal of tolerance because if error was tolerated, it could lead to the disintegration of civilization.  Naturally, while religion was perceived as a necessary guide to right living and a part of good education, there would be conflicting views about the "right religion" and the correct extent of religious education as well as whether or not other religions should be tolerated in society.  Since the dominant force in culture at that point was protestant, Catholics were among those that often had difficulty finding a place.  Native Americans who did not follow precisely the protestant prescriptions for right living had an even more difficult time.  Despite this, there were some, even from that protestant section of society, who acknowledged the value and the positive aspects of these "fringe" cultures.  After all, truth—even if it is found in one's enemy—is still truth. 
It is interesting to note, in the broader scheme of things, an observation made by Michel Chevalier that in America a laissez-faire government was balanced by "rigid habits of life" and "religious severity," which he contrasts with the opposite occurrence in his native France of "laxity and a toleration" where morals and religion were concerned, and strict and rigid control " under all forms of government, monarchy, empire, or republic,"(142).  He maintains that these sorts of balances are necessary.  The Americans themselves seemed to have felt so also, for they were insistent on civil liberty and just as insistent on moral regulation of conduct.    This idea crops up in Sunday-school books which give advice for practically every situation (Advice to Young Men), business regulation (as observed by Chevalier himself in the Lowell factory town), and in random magazines and papers. 
Coming at this idea of toleration v. regulation is a separate observation on the nature of truth and error--"no error (in faith or belief) is or can be harmless, as no truth is or can be mischievous."  Brownson sets forth this idea in a broad application of the religious concept of faith to every other aspect of life.  He maintains that error should not be suppresses "by imposing any legal or civil disabilities on those who are its advocates," but that it should be allowed to "grapple in an open encounter with Truth."  In this perspective, error is not to be merely tolerated (as that would cause harm), but rather allowed to present itself to be shown false in the light of truth.    Brownson uses this as a launching pad for discussing the origins of the government of the United States, however, by the very nature of his original argument, it can with equal facility be applied to the religious culture of that time frame.  One magazine gave a lengthy story that set Muslims on an equal if not superior moral ground with Yankee protestants when it came to business dealings.  However, for the Muslim to be accepted in North American culture, he attended a church and was perceived as a Christian.  As an isolated instance that may have been condoned, but when approached by a differing religion in greater numbers, there was more resistance and distrust, especially when that group is perceived as withholding their true intentions.  This is why the Catholics came under particular suspicion.
The Catholics, and particularly the Jesuit order, were very often associated with the ideas of intrigue, plot, and conspiracy.  The interesting thing is that some take the time to make the argument that the Jesuits are not just a danger to the broader society, but are even harmful to their own institutions.   In the North American Review, they are said to "wound the honour of the monastical state; . . . .  It even gives occasion to abandon too freely the religious orders; it exempts from the obedience and submission due to the ordinary functionaries."  Not just religious authority is being flouted here, but also civil authority, which seems just as bad to the reviewer.  As the article goes on, it only becomes more eloquent in its invectives against the Jesuits.  They are guilty of, "monstrous errours upon all points of theology," and ”pernicious maxims in morality" which they seek to instill in others.  Besides being accused of efforts to lead into "errour," the Jesuits are also accused of attempting to trap people in ignorance.  The author takes Portugal as an example.  " . . .the plan of these monks was to deceive the Portuguese and to put an obstruction by the same method to the progress of their studies, to the end that, after having nourished and restrained them a long time in ignorance, they might hold them always in a subjection and a dependence as unjust as pernicious."  It is no wonder this author thinks that "a Jew will be more favoured in the world than a Jesuit." 
This sort of opinion is also maintained in "Political Religion—The  Brownson Order and Catholicity" in which the Catholics are accused of encouraging and partaking in all sorts of underhanded dealings and even murder.  Not the "smallest similarity" is to be found between their Catholicism on the authors Protestantism, consequently, the author does not approve of them.  When he turns his attentions to the Jesuit order, the language becomes more intense—"It is at once a government and a conspiracy, militant, secret, and publicist," (602).  The founder of the order is compared to burglars, who "on the verge of doom . . .indulge in fancies of a huger thieving," to describe his inspiration to the founding of the order.  At the root of all this suspicion and hatred lies this fear that is described in the North American: "With the pagans they will be pagans, with the atheists they will be atheists, with the Jews they will be Jews, with the reformers they will be reformers; for the determined purpose of penetrating your intentions, your designs, your hearts and your inclinations, and by these means to seduce you to become like the fool, who says in his heart there is no God." (203).  By subverting truth, these people would hold the young country in darkness.
Not everyone had that extreme fear and distrust of the Catholics as typified in the Jesuits.  In fact, a set of approval was granted to the Catholics through the efforts of the Jesuits among the native tribes of the Americas.  In the Democratic Review, a writer not only comments on the exploration that the Jesuits have done in the North American continent, he also points to the work that the Jesuits have accomplished among the tribes.  "The missions of St. Francis Xavier at Green Bay, or St. Ignace at Mackina, of St Mary at the Straights . . .show conclusively, with what zeal and ardor these heralds of the cross pushed their tabernacles in the wilderness, and made know to these wandering Arabs of the prairies the symbols of the Christian faith."  He notes with wonder that, for the Jesuits, the conversion of "a single Indian" was worth the "hunger, thirst, cold, suffering, disease, death" that they faced.  They are described as "venerable, intellectual and devoted" as opposed to the more insidious picture elsewhere painted.  But here, in the wilderness, the religious influence of these missionaries is pictured as a civilizing and ennobling influence, where in places of an already-acknowledged civilization they are not trusted. 
The key to this inconsistency is education, and specifically moral education.  Religion was considered a vital part of any proper education.  According to an article labeled "Education" in The United States Democratic Review, education is linked to the "social, moral and mental elevation of the great human family." (p149)  The authors specifically associate themselves with the Protestant Episcopal Church.  The argument being made is that as, "education improves and expands the moral and intellectual faculties of man-kind, or that it promotes virtue and lessens vice." (p149).  The emphasis that the author takes is the education of the masses.  By educating the masses, the authors hope to lessen the impact of men of wealth and power who would act solely in accordance with their personal ambitions rather than taking into consideration and care their "fellow-mortals, whose only faults, or rather misfortunes, were ignorance and poverty, which they did not originate and bring upon themselves, and had no power to alter." (161). 
Education becomes a stabilizing factor in society by this rule.  But they do not want just any education.  They demand a practical and a liberal education to be made available for all youths—a public school system.  With this, they have specific ideas about the role of religion in this education system.  They do not want for religious education to be left to basic "catechism, forms, and ordinances; and the imperative duties of passive obedience to superiors" which runs contrary to their ideals of independence and education.  They fear that this would only follow the traditions of government established churches.  "Religion . . . [has] been used in the main as an instrument for enabling governments to keep populations in ignorance and subjection . . .This has been a peculiar feature in the Roman Catholic religion, and it is not much less so in the case of the established Protestant Church Great Britain and Ireland." (153).  This was unacceptable as it was seen as having "kept in ignorance and made poor, and miserable, and irreligious, by laws which are founded upon policy, expediency, and fraud," the lower classes who are such a large bulk of society.  In order to maintain a free and liberal government, we could not afford to have a mass of uneducated, "miserable and irreligious," people.   
A Sunday-school manual takes up this refrain of education for moral and civil development of the people.  Early on it references a common adage,  "A penny saved is a penny gained," to make the point that knowledge is more important than wealth, or, "there is something to be saved and gained more precious than even gold or silver."  The problem that this author sees is that, as the majority of grown-ups have been diligent in acquiring wealth, and perhaps been a trifle negligent in more important matters, the youth are growing up with the idea that wealth is the object in life and that they, "as soon as they begin to think and act for themselves, seem to have all ideas and ends merged in the one great pursuit of wealth for its own sake." (7-8).  For this reason, the author decides that young men must be re-educated in religion.  Without religion, we have an unbalanced picture of our place in the cosmos.  People would think themselves "as God," and "...man, believing thus of himself, would be inclined to love himself, and think lightly of his fellow-man. He would seek his own good, as an end, without reference to the good of his neighbor" (14).   This book goes beyond explaining why youths (particularly young men) should be educated in a particular way and actually describes a form of study to be pursued.  Interestingly, much of the education described is more practical than strictly religious. 
In the Scientific American was a little ditty about a Bishop and a wagoner.  The Bishop complained that the wagoner seemed " better fed than taught"  to which the wagoner replied, "Of course . . . for we feed ourselves, but for teaching, we depend on you."  This was something that was not wanted in America—the dependence of the masses on one small group of people for their education.  On the one hand, many of the privileged felt responsible to fascilitate the education of the lower classes, but on the other, a great emphasis was laid on self-education.  Similarly, the author of the Sunday-school book for young men sets forth advice for the education of young men, that they should apply themselves to such study as is suited to their taste and talents and that they should devote at least a couple hours a day to study.  In giving examples of this sort of procedure, the author draws on tradesmen and laborers who have done well through self-education.  Much of that self-education takes place through diverse reading of informational or instructive texts.  The author describes a proper proportion for the ingesting of writings: "Books of facts and books of principles should make by far the larger portion of a young man's reading, and works of fancy and fiction be resorted to only as mental recreation, or the means of improving the taste." (45).  The books are compared to "nourishment" and the "works of fancy and fiction" are considered to lead to "a puny intellectual growth"  which would not be beneficial to the young man or to society. 
It is not just petitions and manuals that set forth the idea of education and religion together.  In the first issue of the Whig Review, after talking about its political purpose, it claims another reason d'ĂȘtre—to promote intellectual and moral growth.  In other words, a journalist was concerned about the education of the people and wanted to make sure that good growth was encouraged.  In speaking of its focus on literature, it explains, "It affects our morals, . . .  It affects all our philosophy and speculative belief," (4).  Later, when introducing a Miss Barrett's poetry, a contributor comments on the importance of poets whose art draws us to "truth and knowledge".  Were they to be taken from us, besides becoming "coarse and treacherous," "Our religion would lose faith, that imaginative worship of the heart, and be driven back to stocks and stones" (38).  So not only are education and religion linked, but also more pleasurable pursuits of recreational literature are likewise linked to religion. 
Still, the study of more recreational literature is also perceived to have a downside.  The New-England Magazine and article describes the development of a Thomas Sable.  "the study of the classics did much to inspire young Thomas with principles in religion and morals, widely different from those now permitted by customs and laws."(61).  Here is a youth who pursues education, but strictly from the classics of Greek and Roman literature.  The author notes that most of the gods would be imprisoned for felonies if they behaved they way they are depicted in modern society, and that cock-fighting was back then used by a Roman general to inspire his troops.  So, Thomas Sable was not well equipped by his education to live profitably and morally within the context of the wider culture of the time.  The lesson to be learned from this story, was that education can be misused, and literature if not read in proper proportions could do as much to harm a young person's development as it could do good when used correctly.  Quality of education and religious and moral instruction are important. 
A positive example of the right mixture of education and religion was Miss Barrett.  In The American Whig Review a Miss Barrett is extolled as one of the two poets in England, the other being Alfred Tennyson.  She is described as a genius. The spirituality of her poems is much commended as is her evident erudition.  "Learned women are notorious for becoming bold and masculine; but there are few men who could bear about them so many of the rich spoils of books and antiquity, without awkwardness and pedantry."  But Miss Barrett, the reviewer contends, is not guilty of that sort of simplicity or vulgarity in knowledge.  "The secret lies in this:  what with most men and with other women is apt to be a mere matter of acquisition, something foreign and accidental hung upon the original framework of the mind, with her, by a long and natural process of assimilation, has become part of the texture of the mind itself."  She has translated Prometheus and read "the Hebrew Bible from Genesis to Malachi " among other works of erudition and spirituality.  She is very intellectual, but also very spiritual.  Her education is rounded, softened and made whole and feminine by her spirituality.  Conversely, her spirituality is balanced and made more meaningful and given context by her education.
While its influence in cultural education cannot be denied, and indeed was a major focus of religious concern during the early republic, its wider influence must not be neglected.  As is observed by Chevalier, religion also affects cultural relationships: "The Protestant education, much more than our Catholic discipline, draws round each individual a line over which it is difficult to step. The consequence is more coldness in the domestic relations, a more or less complete absence of a full and free expression of the stronger feelings of the soul, but, in turn, every one is obliged and accustomed to show more respect for the feelings of others."  Chevalier notes both a positive and a negative in this—on the one hand, there is more respect given to each individual, but on the other, there is less personal and emotional contact. 
Religion becomes a formalized aspect of society which can cause morality to be legislated, so to speak.  The regulations of the Lowell factory that Chevalier observes include things like, " They must on all occasions, both in their words and in their actions, show that they are penetrated by a laudable love of temperature and virtue, and animated by a sense of their moral and social obligations." And, "All ardent spirits are banished from the Company's grounds, except when prescribed by a physician. All games of hazard and cards are prohibited within their limits and in the boarding-houses."  Female employees are required to "attend regularly at divine service, and rigidly observe the rules of the Sabbath."  He observes a balance between being strict in religion and morals and tolerant and lax in government in the Americas.  Because the morals are maintained with such strictness, the people are more self-regulated and require less governmental interference.  This is in strong contrast to today's system, in which much more power has been given to the government and much less moral responsibility is expected of the average citizen.  Maybe Chevalier had the right idea?
On an interesting note, the magazine that was set forth to involve discourse on science and encourage the development of science in the new States, also seemed to have the greatest amount of poetry.  The Scientific American is perhaps the most poetic of the journals used in this research.  In the midst of technical articles and amusing anecdotes and bits of poetry, it drops in commentary that alludes to the importance of religion.  "Keep that Testament in your vest pocket, over your heart." (Vol2, issue1).  It seems as though, religion is culture in this society.  It is inescapable no matter what subject is under discussion.   
Religion as culture brings up a touching subject that involves some of our more inglorious episodes.  It is concerning our treatment of the Native Americans.  An article on the removal of Indians complains against the natives as not accepting religion and civilization.  "Many of them were carefully taught at our seminaries of education, in the hope that principles of morality and habits of industry would be acquired,"  and missionaries "devoted themselves with generous ardor to the task of instruction, as well in agriculture and the mechanic arts, as in the principles of morality and religion." (67).  But all these influences of education and religion were "unsuccessful and unproductive efforts" according to the author.  He references a tribe that has "dwindled" in number since the Catholic efforts among them and judges that for them, "a sedentary life begins to be irksome.  Already their attention is directed to the trans-Mississippian regions."    He also cites the Delawares who came under Moravian influence as having gone into the west to return to their "pristine habits."  Because, as far as he can see, the whites have done everything they could to help to elevate the natives, he blames "some insurmountable obstacle in the habits or temperament of the Indians," for their lack of cultural and religious assimilation.    He does admit the existence of Cherokees who have assimilated more, but he restricts that movement to some "half-breeds and their immediate connexions."   Even that statement he further qualifies by saying that their chief claim to civilization is that they have taken up slavery, and that that was only to indulge "that unconquerable aversion to labor, so characteristic of all savage tribes" (71).
 The "blessings of religion, the benefits of science and the arts, and the advantages of an efficient and stable government," are listed together as the culture that it is impossible to give to the aborigines of North America.  It seems that the author believes the natives to be a hopeless case as far as culture and religion are concerned, so the author concludes that for their "protection and permanent advantage" and for the "safety of the bordering parties" the natives ought to be removed to separately reserved lands.
Religion was vitally important to the culture of the early American republic.  While some saw that religion could be used to oppress, and some used it to condemn others, still over-all, religion and morality wore the face of liberating benevolence.  It was a means of rising above ones circumstances.  It was an inspiration to education, and a necessary part of proper education.  It was a balancing influence in politics, relationships, morals, and knowledge.  It was the core of culture and civilization.  Perhaps its inter-relationship with freedom is best epitomized by a poetic eulogy that was originally published in a Catholic paper, but then quoted at length in the United States Democratic Review.
" No! Religion and Liberty are not hostile, but kindred to each other. Liberty means
only leave to do good. So soon as men pass that meaning they enter under the rule of
Law. Religion is the source and teacher of all goodness; hence Liberty must he her
ally and her aid. Oh! blessed is the union of Liberty and Religion! This union is the
hope of humanity, the stay of order, the prop of peace, the highest earthly combination
of all that is good, and pure, and holy in our human nature. May this union he perfected
and endure for ever! May it fill the earth and subdue it, and remain unbroken and
unchanged till the night of the last day closes over the ruins of the world."
Not only does it eulogize religion and liberty together as inseparable, it also become a point at which people of differing faiths can come together in respectful agreement.  The Catholic is no longer distrusted as his loyalty to this ideal is made evident.  Instead of being described as a secretive and evil conspirator, he is described as a candid, straightforward journalist.  Humanity has been restored to at least one group that had been marginalized. 
There would still be prejudices and fears that would spring from our understandings or misunderstandings of religion, but that will always be the case while we do not have perfect knowledge.  Religion would still be the cause of division and just as surely it would be a factor that motivated union.  It was a part of the moral fabric of society.  It was often equated with culture and civilization.  It was considered necessary for positive social interaction and a tool that could be used either towards liberty or oppression.  It offered a framework within which people could be judged or accepted.  It was a necessary and ever present reminder of our frailty in the midst of a growing individualism.