The Pulpit and the Revolution: How Biblical Preaching Forged American Independence — The Black Robe Regiment
- Thom H. Paine

- Mar 3
- 3 min read
The Pulpit and the Revolution: The Black Robe Regiment and American Independence
Modern historians often portray the American Revolution as a secular Enlightenment project driven by abstract philosophy divorced from religious conviction. Nothing could be further from the truth. Before it was fought on battlefields, the Revolution was preached from pulpits. At the center of that movement stood what British loyalists derisively called the Black Robe Regiment—colonial clergy whose sermons shaped the moral imagination of a nation.¹
These ministers did not confine faith to private devotion. They preached election sermons and civic addresses that wove Scripture, natural law, and political theory into a coherent theology of liberty. They believed the Bible spoke directly to justice, governance, and resistance to tyranny.
The Black Robe Regiment and the Theology of Resistance
Peter Muhlenberg provides one of the most vivid examples. In January 1776, preaching from

Ecclesiastes—“to everything there is a season”—he concluded there was “a time to pray and a time to fight.” He then removed his clerical robe to reveal a military uniform and enlisted hundreds from his congregation into the patriot cause.² This act symbolized what many colonial pastors believed: liberty under God was worth sacrifice.
The clergy handled Scripture with seriousness. Romans 13 commands submission to governing authorities, yet it also defines the purpose of that authority—to reward good and restrain evil.³ When rulers became tyrants, acting as a terror to good works rather than evil, ministers argued they forfeited moral legitimacy.
Jonathan Mayhew’s 1750 sermon, A Discourse Concerning Unlimited Submission, became foundational to revolutionary thought. Drawing from Romans 13, Mayhew insisted that blind obedience to tyranny contradicted both reason and Scripture.⁴ Kings were bound by covenant; when they violated it, resistance was not rebellion against God but fidelity to Him.
This conviction aligned with what later came to be called the doctrine of lesser magistrates: when higher authorities command what God forbids, or forbid what God commands, lower authorities have both the right and duty to interpose. The apostles’ declaration, “We must obey God rather than men,” provided the moral framework for colonial assemblies and, ultimately, the Continental Congress.⁵
Abraham Keteltas preached in 1777 that the American cause was not merely political but moral—“the cause of justice, liberty, and human nature.”⁶ Such language reveals how deeply the Revolution was understood in spiritual terms. To defend liberty was to defend divine order.
The ministers of the Black Robe Regiment paid dearly for their convictions. Churches were burned. Pastors were imprisoned. John Witherspoon—the only clergyman to sign the Declaration of Independence—saw British troops devastate Princeton. Yet they believed the preservation of liberty justified the cost.
What does this mean for us? Today we are told religious voices must remain silent in public life. Such an idea would have been incomprehensible to the founding generation. They did not seek theocracy, but neither did they embrace moral neutrality. They believed biblical truth had public consequences.
This is not a call for partisan preaching. It is a call for moral courage. The faith that forged American independence was robust, intellectually serious, and unafraid of controversy. It understood that tyranny is not merely political overreach but moral disorder.
The Black Robe Regiment grasped a truth we are in danger of forgetting: freedom is ultimately a spiritual issue. Until that truth is recovered, liberty will remain fragile.
The question is not whether faith belongs in public life. History has already answered that.
The question is whether we have the courage to speak.
Spirit & Truth,
Thom H. Paine
Notes
J. T. Headley, The Chaplains and Clergy of the Revolution (New York: Charles Scribner, 1864), 38–41.
Henry A. Muhlenberg, The Life of Major-General Peter Muhlenberg (Philadelphia: Carey and Hart, 1849), 75.
Romans 13:3 (King James Version).
Jonathan Mayhew, A Discourse Concerning Unlimited Submission (Boston: D. Fowle, 1750), 41–42.
Acts 5:29; Daniel 6:10 (King James Version).
Abraham Keteltas, God Arising and Pleading His People’s Cause (Newburyport, MA: John Mycall, 1777), 26.
*This series, The Founders’ Quill, is an invitation to recover that wisdom. Not to romanticize the past, but to reclaim what made the republic possible. If we are to keep the American republic, we must first remember what it was built upon—and why it still matters.




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