Early America lived by sabbath and blasphemy laws yet still maintained a separation between church and state.

Glenn Moots, a professor of political science and philosophy at Northwood University, tells the story of this deep religious influence on modern society.

“The church was a very important institution of civil society,” Moots says on The Overton Window Podcast. Sabbath laws and blasphemy laws, he notes, were embedded into civic order. “Those are some things that we would be hard-pressed to find today, though there are still some kicking around.”

While modern audiences often associate colonial America with religious overreach, Moots invites listeners to look closer. “What constitutes separation?” he asks, pointing out that “there was actually quite a bit of sensitivity to the separation of church and states,” particularly in regions often presumed to have strongly religious societies. Ministers rarely held political office, out of principle, which explains why few members of the clergy signed the Declaration of Independence.

“[Their role] was understood to be protecting the souls of the people,” Moots says. The church’s ministers were to preach, offer sacraments, and discipline their congregations. Magistrates were to govern civil life. Mixing the two roles, according to Moots, “blurred that line.” He points to a widely held belief in the era: “The conscience could not be changed by the law.” Religious guidance was viewed as a necessity for society to function.

Even when church attendance was mandatory, the aim wasn’t spiritual conversion through coercion, but civic cohesion. “The justification for this was largely civil.” The church was seen as the agent of moral instruction, but conversion remained the work of the spirit, not the state.

Religious liberty, in its earliest American expressions, was controversial. Religious pluralism was perceived by many as moral chaos.

The Overton Window began to move as war and revolution reshaped the religious-political imagination. Sermons that once defended the British cause against Catholic France were retooled for rebellion. Ministers were preaching liberty itself as a sacred cause.

“As rights and liberties are being protected or expanded — that's a kind of redemptive work,” Moots says.

As a result, colonists became more open to the idea of religious liberty. Experience in thriving areas with religious liberty, such as the Netherlands, allowed them to visualize the transition.

Even in an increasingly secular society, traces of public piety endure. Moots calls to mind flag-burning debates. Many Americans may say, “I’m all for free speech, but that’s a bit much.” He reflects on the enduring sense that “there’s a kind of reverence for the flag,” and more broadly, “a kind of piety of what may be said, or altered, or argued.”

Some things are still sacred, even in a pluralist society. “People are entitled to a certain degree of respect and acknowledgement.” Moots draws a subtle but clear line from colonial blasphemy laws to modern norms about speech and symbolism. “You’ll always have blasphemy laws. There’s a kind of public piety that people intuitively understand is important.”

The taboos may have shifted, but the existence of taboos has not.

Listen to the full conversation on The Overton Window Podcast.

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